Small poems of Divers sorts :: :: University of Virginia Library

Farewell fair Saint! But when you are away
And far remote, think of me once a day.
When shall I see again your Amber-haire?
Look on your stately forehead, arched fair?

View those two Suns, your heart-bewitching eies?
Your Nose, and Mouth, and all your Rarities?
Hear your sweet tongue again, whose words alone
Would make deaf Mortalls hear, if not a stone?
Not till I come to London: Phœbus, hie;
Drive not the Sun so slowly through the skie.
If these short dayes, these Winter-days will seem
So tedious, then what should I think of them
If they were Summer-Hours? Surely I
Should wish (like Phaeton) thou might'st fall & die:
For in your absence I shall take delight
In Dreams of you t'wear out the longest Night.
I love, and that is all that I can say;
My vehement thoughts take all my words away.
The more I think to write, I can the less:
His heart is safe who can his love express.
Know I am yours much more then I can tell,
And say (with grief) sweet'st of your Sex! Farewell.