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Therefore my mistress' brows are raven black,

CXXXI. Her eyes so suitod, and they mourners seem Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art, 9 At such who, not born fair, no beauty lack, As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel; * Sland'ring creation with a false esteem: 12 For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart

Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe, Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.
That every tongue says beauty should lookso. Yet, in good faith, some say that thee behold,

Thy face hath not the power to make love
How oft, when thou, my music, music play'st, To say they err I dare not be so bold,

Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds Although I swear it to myself alone.
With thysweet fingers, when thougently sway'st And to be sure that is not false I swear,
The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,

A thousand groans, but thinking on thy face, Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap

One on another's neck, do witness bear To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,

Thy black is fairest in my judgment's place. 12 Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest

In nothing art thou black save in thy deeds, reap,

And thence this slander, as I think, proceeds.
At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand!
To be so tickl'd, they would change their state
And situation with those dancing chips, 10 Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me,
O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait, Knowing thy heart torments me with disdain,
Making dead wood more bless'd than living lips. Have put on black and loving mourners be,

Since saucy jacks so happy are in this, Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss. And truly not the morning sun of heaven

Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east,

Nor that full star that ushers in the even, The expense of spirit in a waste of shame

Doth half that glory to the sober west, Is lust in action; and till action, lust

As those two mourning eyes become thy face: Is perjur’d, murderous, bloody, full of blame, O! let it then as well beseem thy heart Savage, extremo, rude, cruel, not to trust;

To mourn for me, since mourning doth thee Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight;

grace, Past reason hunted; and no sooner had, 6 And suit thy pity like in every part. Past reason bated, as a swallow'd bait,

Then will I swear beauty herself is black, On purpose laid to make the taker mad:

And all they foul that thy complexion lack. Mad in pursuit, and in possession so; H Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme; - A bliss in proof,--and prov'd, a very woe; Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan

Before, a joy propos’d; behind, a dream. 12 For that deep wound it gives my friend and me! All this the world well knows; yet none Is 't not enough to torture me alone, knows well

But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must
Toshun the beaven that leads men to this hell. be?

Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken,

And my next self thou harder hast engross’d: 6 only My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Of him, myself, and thee, I am forsaken; Coral is far more red than her lips' red:

A torment thrice threefold thus to be cross'd. If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; Prison my heart in thy steel bosom's ward, If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. But then my friend's heart let my poor heart I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,

bail; But no such roses see I in her cheeks; 6 Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard; And in some perfumes is there more delight Thou canst not then use rigour in my jail: Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee, I love to hear her speak, yet well I know

Perforce am thine, and all that is in me. That music hath a far more pleasing sound: I grant I never saw a goddess go,My mistress, when she walks, treads on the So, now I have confess'd that he is thine, ground:

12 And I myself am mortgag'd to thy will, And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare Myself I'll forfeit, so that other mine As any she belied with false compare. Thou wilt restore, to be my comfort still:


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But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free, Why should my heart think that a several pla For thou art covetous and he is kind; 6 Which my heart knows the wide world's He learn'd but surety-like to write for me,

common place? Under that bond that him as fast doth bind. Or mine eyes, seeing this, say this is not, The statute of thy beauty thou wilt take, To put fair truth upon so foul a face? Thou usurer, that putt'st forth all to use, In things right true my heart and eyes bare And sue a friend came debtor for my sike;

err'd, So him I lose through my unkind abuse.

And to this false plague are they now transHim have I lost; thou hast both him and ferr'd.



CXXXVIII. He pays the whole, and yet am I not free.

When my love swears that she is made of truth CXXXV.

I do believe her, though I know she lies, Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy Will, That she might think me some untutor'd youth, And Will to boot, and Will in over-plus;

Unlearned in the world's false subtleties. More than enough am I that vex thee still, Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young, To thy sweet will making addition thus. Although she knows my days are past the Wilt thou, whose will is large and spacious,

best, Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine? o Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue: Shall will in others seem right gracious,

On both sides thus is simple truth supprest. And in my will no fair acceptance shine? But wherefore says she not she is unjust? The sea, all water, yet receives rain still,

And wherefore say not I that I am old? And in abundance addeth to his store;

O! love's best habit is in seeming trust, So thou, being rich in Will, add to thy Will 11 And age in love loves not to have years told: 12 One will of mine, to make thy large Will more. Therefore I lie with her, and she with me, Let no unkind 'No' fair beseechers kill;

And in our faults by lies we flatter'd be. Think all but one, and me in that one Wil.


Ol call not me to justify the wrong
If thy soul check thee that I come so near,

That thy unkindness lays upon my heart; Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy Will, Wound me not with thine eye, but with thy And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there;

tongue: Thus far for love, my love-suit, sweet, fulfil. Use power with power, and slay me not by art. Will will fulfil the treasure of thy love,

Tell me thou lovest elsewhere; but in my Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one.

sight, In things of great receipt with ease we prove Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside: 6 Among a number one is reckon'd none: What need'st thou wound with cunning, sber Then in the number let me pass untold,

thy might Though in thy stores' account I one must be; Is more than my o'erpress'd defence can bide? For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold Let me excuse thee: ahl my love well knows That nothing me, a something sweet to thee: 12 Her pretty looks have been my enemies; Make but my name thy love, and love that and therefore from my face she turns my still,

foes, And then thou lov’st me,--for my name is That they elsewhere might dart their injuries: Will.

Yet do not so; but since I am near slain,

Kill me outright with looks, and rid my pain. CXXXVII. Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine

OXL. eyes,

Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press That they behold, and see not what they see? My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain; They know what beauty is, see where it lies, Lest sorrow lend me words, and words express Yet what the best is take the worst to be. The manner of my pity-wanting pain. If eyes, corrupt by over-partial looks,

If I might teach thee wit, better it were, Be anchor'd in the bay where all men ride, 6 Though not to love, yet, love, to tell me so; - $ Why of eyes' falsehood hast thou forged As testy sick men, when their deaths be near, hooks,

No news but health from their physiciaa Whereto the judgment of my heart is tied ?




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For, if I should despair, I should grow mad, So runn'st thou after that which flies from thee,
And in my madness might speak ill of thee: Whilst I thy babe chase thee afar behind;
Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad, But if thou catch thy hope, turn back to me,
Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be. 12 Ar! play the mother's part, kiss me, be kind; 12
That I may not be so, nor thou belied,

So will I pray that thou mayst have thy Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud Will, heart go wide.

If thou turn back and my loud crying still.•






CXLIV. In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes, Two loves I have of comfort and despair, For they in thee a thousand errors note; Which like two spirits do suggest me still: But 'tis my heart that loves what they de- The better angel is a man right fair, spise,

The worser spirit a woman, colour'd ill. Who, in despite of view, is pleas'd to dote. To win me soon to hell, my female evil Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune de- Tempteth my better angel from my side, lighted;

And would corrupt my saint to be a devil, Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone. 6 Wooing his purity with her foul pride. Nor taste nor smell desire to be invited

And whether that my angel be turn'd fiend To any sensual feast with thee alone:

Suspect I may, but not directly tell; But my five wits nor my five senses can But being both from me, both to each friend, Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee, I guess one angel in another's bell: Who leaves unsway'd the likeness of a man, Yet this shall I ne'er know, but live in doubt, Thy proud heart's slave and vassal wretch to

Till my bad angel fire my good one out. be: Only my plague thus far I count my gain,

CXLV. That she that makes me sin awards me Those lips that Love's own hand did make, pain.

Breath'd forth the sound that said 'I hate,

To me that languish'd for her sake:

But when she saw my woeful state,
Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate, Straight in her heart did mercy come,

Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving: Chiding that tongue that ever sweet mit Ol but with mine compare thou thine own was us'd in giving gentle doom; state,

And taught it thus anew to greet;
And thou shalt find it merits not reproving; 'I hate,' she alter'd with an end,
Or, if it do, not from those lips of thine, That follow'd it as gentle day
That have profan'd their scarlet ornaments 6 Doth follow night, who like a fiend
And seal'd false bonds of love as oft as mine, From heaven to hell is flown away.
Robb'd others' beds' revenues of their rents. 'I hate' from hate away she threw,

Be it lawful I love thee, as thou lov'st those And sav'd my life, saying—'Not you.'
in Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune

Root pity in thy heart, that when it grows, Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth,
Thy pity may deserve to pitied be.

12 Fool'd by these rebel powers that thee array, If thcu dost seek to have what thou dost Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth, hide,

Painting thy outward walls so costly gay? By self-example mayst thou be denied ! Why so large cost, having so short a lease,

Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend? 6 CXLIII.

Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body's end? One of her feather'd creatures broke away, Then, soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss, Sets down her babe, and makes all quick dis. And let that pine to aggravate thy store; patch

Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross; In pursuit of the thing she would have stay; Within be fed, without be rich no more: Whilst her neglected child holds her in chase, So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on Cries to catch her whose busy care is bent

men, To follow that which flies before her face,

And Death once dead, there's no more dying Not prizing her poor infant's discontent:










My love is as a fever, longing still

O! from what power hast thou this powerful For that which longer nurseth the disease;

might, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, With insufficiency my heart to sway? The uncertain sickly appetite to please. To make me give the lie to my true sight, My reason, the physician to my love,

And swear that brightness doth not grace the Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,

day? Hath left me, and I desperate now approve

Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill, Desire is death, which physic did except. That in the very refuse of thy deeds Past cure I am, now Reason is past care, There is such strength and warrantise of And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;

skill, My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's That, in my mind, thy worst all best exceeds? are,

Who taught thee how to make me love thee At random from the truth vainly express'd; 12 more, For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee The more I hear and see just cause of hate? bright,

0! though I love what others do abbor, Who art as black as hell, as dark as night. With others thou shouldst not abhor my


If thy unworthiness rais'd love in me,

More worthy I to be belov'd of thee.
O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head,
Which have no correspondence with true

Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled, Love is too young to know what conscience is;
That censures falsely what they see aright? Yet who knows not conscience is born of
If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,

love? What means the world to say it is not so? 6 Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss, If it be not, then love doth well denote

Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove: Love's eye is not so true as all men's: no. For, thou betraying me, I do betray How can it? 01 how can Love's eye be My nobler part to my gross body's treason; 6 true,

My soul doth tell my body that he may That is so vex'd with watching and with Triumph in love; flesh stays no further reason, tears?

But rising at thy name doth point out thee No marvel then, though I mistake my view; As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride, The sun itself sees not till heaven clears. 12 He is contented thy poor drudge to be, O cunning Lovel with tears thou keep'st me To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side. blind,

No want of conscience hold it that I call Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should Her 'love' for whose dear love I rise and fall.



CLII. Canst thou, O cruell say I love thee not, In loving the thou know'st I am forsworn, When I against myself with thee partake? But thou art twice forsworn, to me love swearDo I not think on thee, when I forgot

ing; Am of myself, all tyrant, for thy sake? In act thy bed-vow broke, and new faith torn, Who hateth thee that I do call my friend? In vowing new hate after new love bearing. On whom frown'st thou that I do fawn upon? 6 But why of two oaths' breach do I accuse thee, Nay, if thou lour'st on me, do I not spend When I break twenty? I am perjur'd most; o Revenge upon myself with present moan? For all my vows are oaths but to misuse tbet, What merit do I in myself respect,

And all my honest faith in thee is lost: That is so proud thy service to despise, For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindWhen all my best doth worship thy defect,

ness, Commanded by the motion of thine eyes? 12 Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy: 12 But, love, hate on, for now I know thy And, to enlighten thee, gave eyes to blindness, mind;

Or made them swear against the thing they see; Those that can see thou lov'st, and I am For I have sworn thee fair; more perjur'd I, blind.

To swear against the truth so foul a lie!



CLIV. Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep: The little Love-god lying once asleep A maid of Dian's this advantage found, Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand, And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep Whilst many nymphs that vow'd chaste life to In a cold valley-fountain of that ground;

keep Which borrow'd from this holy fire of Love Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand A dateless lively heat, still to endure, 6 The fairest votary took up that fire And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove Which many legions of true hearts had warm'd; Against strange maladies a sovereign cure. And so the general of hot desire But at my mistress' eye Love's brand new-fired, Was, sleeping, by a virgin hand disarm'd. The boy for trial needs would touch my breast; This brand she quenched in a cool well by, I, sick withal, the help of bath desired,

Which from Love's fire took heat perpetual, And thither hied, a sad distemper'd guest, 12 Growing a bath and healthful remedy But found no cure: the bath for my help For men diseas'd; but I, my mistress' thrall, 12 lies

Came there for cure, and this by that I prove, Where Cupid got new fire, my mistress' eyes. Love's fire heats water, water cools not love.





FROM off a bill whose concave womb re-würded Her hair, nor loose nor tied in formal plat, A plaintful story from a sistering vale,

Proclaim'd in her a careless hand of pride; My spirits to attend this double voice accorded, For some, untuck'd, descended her sheav'd hat, And down I laid to list the sad-tun'd tale; 4 Hanging her pale and pined cheek beside; Ere long espied a fickle maid full pale,

Some in her threaden fillet still did bide, Tearing of papers, breaking rings a-twain, And true to bondage would not break from Storming her world with sorrow's wind and thence rain.

Though slackly braided in loose negligence. Upon her head a platted hive of straw, 8 A thousand favours from a maund she drew 36 Which fortified her visage from the sun, Of amber, crystal, and of beaded jet, Whereon the thought might think sometime it Which one by one she in a river threw,

Upon whose weeping margent she was set; The carcass of a beauty spent and done: Like usury, applying wet to wet,

40 Time had not scythed all that youth begun, 12 Or monarch's hands that let not bounty fall Nor youth all quit; but, spite of heaven's fell Where want cries some, but where excess begs rage,

all. Some beauty peep'd through lattice of gear'd age. Of folded schedules had she many a one, Oft did she heave her napkin to her eyne, Which she perus’d, sigh’d, tore, and gave the Which on it had conceited characters,

flood; Laundering the silken figures in the brine Crack'd many a ring of posied gold and bone, That season'd woe had pelleted in tears, Bidding them find their sepulchres in mud; And often reading what content it bears; Found yet more letters sadly penn'd in blood, As often ghrieking undistinguish'd woe 20 With sleided silk feat and affectedly In clamours of all size, both high and low. Enswath'd, and seal'd to curious secrecy. Sometimes her loveli'd eyes their carriage These often bath'd she in her fluxive eyes, ride,

And often kiss'd, and often 'gan to tear; As they did battery to the spheres intend; Cried “O false bloodl thou register of lies, Sometime diverted, their poor balls are tied 24 What unapproved witness dost thou bear; To the orbed earth; sometimes they do extend Ink would have seem'd more black and damned Their view right on; anon their gazes lend

here.' To every place at once, and nowhere fix'd, This said, in top of rage the lines she rents, The mind and sight distractedly commix’d. 28 | Big discontent so breaking their contents.






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