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Be assured 'tis she, or none,

That I love, and love alone.

William Browne [1591-1643?]

TO DIANEME

SWEET, be not proud of those two eyes,
Which, star-like, sparkle in their skies;
Nor be you proud that you can see
All hearts your captives, yours yet free;
Be you not proud of that rich hair,
Which wantons with the love-sick air;
Whenas that ruby which you wear,
Sunk from the tip of your soft ear,
Will last to be a precious stone

When all your world of beauty's gone.

Robert Herrick [1591-1674]

INGRATEFUL BEAUTY THREATENED

KNOW, Celia, since thou art so proud,
'Twas I that gave thee thy renown.
Thou hadst in the forgotten crowd
Of.common beauties lived unknown,
Had not my verse extolled thy name,
And with it imped the wings of Fame.

That killing power is none of thine;

I gave it to thy voice and eyes;
Thy sweets, thy graces, all are mine;

Thou art my star, shin'st in my skies;
Then dart not from thy borrowed sphere
Lightning on him that fixed thee there.

Tempt me with such affrights no more,
Lest what I made I uncreate;

Let fools thy mystic form adore,
I know thee in thy mortal state.
Wise poets, that wrapped Truth in tales,
Knew her themselves through all her veils.

Thomas Carew [1598?-1639?]

"Love Who Will, For I'll Love None" 817

DISDAIN RETURNED

He that loves a rosy cheek,
Or a coral lip admires,
Or from star-like eyes doth seek
Fuel to maintain his fires:
As old Time makes these decay,
So his flames must waste away.

But a smooth and steadfast mind,
Gentle thoughts, and calm desires,
Hearts with equal love combined,
Kindle never-dying fires-
Where these are not, I despise
Lovely cheeks, or lips, or eyes.

No tears, Celia, now shall win
My resolved heart to return;
I have searched thy soul within,
And find naught but pride and scorn;
I have learned thy arts, and now
Can disdain as much as thou.

Some power, in my revenge, convey

That love to her I cast away.

Thomas Carew [1598?-1639?]

"LOVE WHO WILL, FOR I'LL LOVE NONE"

LOVE who will, for I'll love none,
There's fools enough beside me:
Yet if each woman have not one,
Come to me where I hide me,
And if she can the place attain,
For once I'll be her fool again.

It is an easy place to find,

And women sure should know it;
Yet thither serves not every wind,

Nor many men can show it:

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It is the storehouse, where doth lie
All woman's truth and constancy.

If the journey be so long,

No woman will adventer;

But dreading her weak vessel's wrong,

The voyage will not enter:
Then may she sigh and lie alone,

In love with all, yet loved of none.

Thomas Browne [1605-1682]

VALERIUS ON WOMEN

SHE that denies me I would have;
Who craves me I despise:
Venus hath power to rule mine heart,
But not to please mine eyes.

Temptations offered I still scorn;
Denied, I cling them still;

I'll neither glut mine appetite,
Nor seek to starve my will.

Diana, double-clothed, offends;
So Venus, naked quite:

The last begets a surfeit, and
The other no delight.

That crafty girl shall please me best,
That no, for yea, can say;

And every wanton willing kiss

Can season with a nay.

Thomas Heywood [ ? -1650?]

DISPRAISE OF LOVE, AND LOVERS' FOLLIES

IF love be life, I long to die,

Live they that list for me;

And he that gains the most thereby,

A fool at least shall be.

The Constant Lover

But he that feels the sorest fits,

'Scapes with no less than loss of wits. Unhappy life they gain,

Which love do entertain.

In day by feigned looks they live,
By lying dreams in night;

Each frown a deadly wound doth give,
Each smile a false delight.

If 't hap their lady pleasant seem,
It is for others' love they deem:
If void she seem of joy,

Disdain doth make her coy.

Such is the peace that lovers find,

Such is the life they lead,

Blown here and there with every wind,

Like flowers in the mead;

Now war, now peace, now war again,
Desire, despair, delight, disdain:

Though dead in midst of life,

In peace, and yet at strife.

819

Francis Davison [fl. 1602]

THE CONSTANT LOVER

OUT upon it, I have loved

Three whole days together!
And am like to love three more,
If it prove fair weather.

Time shall moult away his wings.

Ere he shall discover

In the whole wide world again

Such a constant lover.

But the spite on't is, no praise

Is due at all to me:

Love with me had made no stays,

Had it any been but she.

Had it any been but she,

And that very face,

There had been at least ere this

A dozen in her place.

SONG

John Suckling [1609-1642]

From "Aglaura"

WHY SO pale and wan, fond lover?

Prithee, why so pale?

Will, when looking well can't move her,

Looking ill prevail?

Prithee, why so pale?

Why so dull and mute, young sinner?

Prithee, why so mute?

Will, when speaking well can't win her,

Saying nothing do't?

Prithee, why so mute?

Quit, quit, for shame, this will not move:

This cannot take her.

If of herself she will not love,

Nothing can make her:

The devil take her!

John Suckling [1609-1642]

WISHES TO HIS SUPPOSED MISTRESS

WHOE'ER she be,

That not impossible She

That shall command my heart and me:

Where'er she lie,

Locked up from mortal eye

In shady leaves of destiny:

Till that ripe birth

Of studied Fate stand forth,

And teach her fair steps tread our earth:

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