 | The poems (1923) |  |
To one Blacke, and not very Hansome, who expected com̄endation.
What though your eyes bee starres, your haire, bee night
And all that Beauty wch addornes yor face
Yeeld in effect but such a sullen Light
It hardly serves, for to sett of that Grace
Wch every shaddowe yeeldeth in his Place,
Yet more then any other you delight.
And all that Beauty wch addornes yor face
Yeeld in effect but such a sullen Light
It hardly serves, for to sett of that Grace
Wch every shaddowe yeeldeth in his Place,
Yet more then any other you delight.
98
For since I loue not wth mine eyes but Hart
Your red or white so little could incline,
Whither it came from nature or from art,
I should not thinke it eyther yours or mine,
As that wch doth but wth the skinne confine
And wth the Light that gave it first departe.
Your red or white so little could incline,
Whither it came from nature or from art,
I should not thinke it eyther yours or mine,
As that wch doth but wth the skinne confine
And wth the Light that gave it first departe.
Let novises in Love themselves addresse
Vnto those parts, which superficiall bee,
Cloris, I must ingeniously confesse
Nothinge appeares a reall faire to me
Wch at the most but sometimes I do see
But never can at any time possesse;
Vnto those parts, which superficiall bee,
Cloris, I must ingeniously confesse
Nothinge appeares a reall faire to me
Wch at the most but sometimes I do see
But never can at any time possesse;
Giue me a Beauty at such distance sett
That all the senses wch I would imploy
Beinge wth in an euen compasse mett
Each sense may there such equall share injoy
That neyther one the other shall destroy
Or force it for to pay its fellowes debt.
That all the senses wch I would imploy
Beinge wth in an euen compasse mett
Each sense may there such equall share injoy
That neyther one the other shall destroy
Or force it for to pay its fellowes debt.
So though wth douelike murmurs I did rest
Faster enchanted then wth any spell
Lyinge wth in your armes, vpon your brest
Sippinge a Nectar kisse, whose fragrant smell
My tongue wth in your Lipps alone should tell,
I would not thinke my powers were opprest.
Faster enchanted then wth any spell
Lyinge wth in your armes, vpon your brest
Sippinge a Nectar kisse, whose fragrant smell
My tongue wth in your Lipps alone should tell,
I would not thinke my powers were opprest.
Then leaue your simpringe, Cloris, and make hast
Wth out delightinge thus to heare me pray,
That all your sweets I may together tast.
Should I too longe on one Perfection stay
I might bee forced to linger on my way
Or leave thee wth the prayse, of beinge chast.
Wth out delightinge thus to heare me pray,
That all your sweets I may together tast.
Should I too longe on one Perfection stay
I might bee forced to linger on my way
Or leave thee wth the prayse, of beinge chast.
| The poems (1923) | |