University of Virginia Library

[Deare, though vnconstant, these I send to you]

Deare , though vnconstant, these I send to you
As witnesses, that still my Loue is true.
Receiue these Lines as Images of Death,
That beare the Infants of my latest breath,
And to my tryumph, though I dye in woe,
With welcome glory, since you will it so,
Especially, my ending is the lesse,
When I Examples see of my distresse.
As Dido, one whose misery was had
By Loue, for which shee in Deathes robes was clad;
Yet lost shee lesse then I, for I possest
And loue enioy'd, she lik'd, what was profest
Most cruell, and the death-lik'st kind of ill,
To lose the blessing of contentments will.
Faire Ariadne neuer tooke more care,
Then I did how you might in safety fare,
Her thrid my life was to draw you from harme,
My study wholly how I might all charme
That dangerous were, while pleasures you optain'd,
And I the hazard with the labour gain'd:
Yet shee this his life sau'd, he her honor lost,
That false Prince Theseus flying, left her crost
With his abandoning her truth, and loue
Leaning her desolate, alone to proue
His Loue, or ended, or but giuen for neede,
Caus'd her with misery to gaine that meed.
I Ariadne am alike oppress'd,
Alike deseruing, and alike distress'd:
Vngratefull Demophon, to Phillis faire
A Thracian Lady, causs'd by like dispaire,
Or greater farr, for after feruent loue,
In which bless'd time he freely still did proue:
What is desir'd, or lou'd, he left this Queene
And bliss, for a lesse Kingdome which had beene
Before his fathers, and by reason right,
For Theseus was his Sire that King of spight.
Thus did he both inherit state, and ill,
While Phillis selfe, her louely selfe did kill,
Making a Tree her Throne, a Cord the end
Of her affections, which his shame did send.
I strangled am, with your vnkindnes choak'd
While cruelty is with occasions cloak'd.
Medea Witch, with her enchanting skill
Did purchase what was craued by her will,
Yet was by Iason left at last, which showes
Loue only free from all bewitching blowes.
But his owne witchcraft, which is worst of ills,
Neuer absenting till all ioy it spills.
Charms it may be, with-held you now from me,
Breake through them, leaue that Circes so oft free,
The Syrens songe, Calypsoes sweete delights
And looke on faith, which light is of true lights.
Turne backe the eyes of your chang'd heart, and see
How much you sought, how fondly once sought me,
What trauell did you take to win my loue?
How did you sue that I as kind would proue?
This is forgot as yester dayes lik'd sport,
Loue winning lasting long, once won proues short.
I like Penelope haue all this time
Of your absenting, let no thought to clime
In me of change, though courted, and pursu'd
By loue, perswasions, and euen fashons rude
Almost to force extending, yet still she
Continued constant, and as I am free.
Ten yeares a cause was for Vlisses stay
While Troy beseiged was, but then away
Was homeward bent by all, saue him who stayd,
And ten yeares more on forraine beautyes pray'd.
Against his will, he oft his will enioyed.
And with variety at last was cloy'd.
Chainge wearyed him, when weary he return'd,
And from his wandring then to staydnes turn'd.
Come you now backe, I thus inuite you home,
And loue you, as if you did neuer roame:
I haue forgot it as if neuer done,
And doe but thinke me a new to be wone.
I shall appeare, it may be, as I did,
And all passd falts shall in my breast be hid,
Try me againe, and you shall truely find,
Where fairenesse wanteth, clearenes of a minde;
Fairer, and richer then the masse of all
Their persons, which from me haue made you fall,
If ioyn'd together, and from thence to frame
A minde of beauteous faith, fit for the name
Of worthy Constancy inrich'd with truth,
Which gaue me to you, and so held my youth
In young desires, still growing to your loue,
Nourish them now, and let me your loue proue.
Leaue the new powerfull charms of strangers tongus,
Which alwayes truth with their faire falshood wrongs.
Come backe to me, who neuer knew the plot
To crosse your minde, or to thy will an nott:
Come, I say, come againe, and with Vlisses
Enioy the blessings of your best blisses;
Happy the comfort of a chaste loues bed,
Blessed the pillow that vpholds the head
Of loyall louing, shame's the others due,
Leaue those for me who cannot be but true.
Come, and giue life, or in your stay send death
To her that liues in you, else drawes no breath.