Love's Dialect :: :: University of Virginia Library

VVhich of thy vertues shall I first admire,
(Rare peece of natures wonder?) O inspire
My over-Amorous soule, yee Virgins nine
That blesse the fount of flowing Hippocrene:
Create a fancy in me, that may flye
Above the towring head of Rapsody.
Negra, thou art not faire; I cannot say
The blushing morne (bright Herald to the day)
Riseth in either Cheeke; nor yet suppose
The blamelesse Lilly and chast bashfull Rose
Have a contention there, for these (we know)
Change with their seasons, they but bud, and blow,
And then expire for ever; all their story
Is at an end, when they begin their glory.

But thou art Black, and therein lovely (too)
Constant, as Fate, unto thy changelesse Hue,
(Like to thy inward soule) where we may finde
Thy face to be fit Emblem to thy mind,
Constant in all chaste thoughts; and a black night
Sometimes allowes more pleasure, then the light
Of a cleare Summer morning, when we please
To dedicate our wearied braines to ease
On a soft Pillow; Marriage-beds allow
The night for lovers actions and (we know)
That, ere the seasons of the yeare decay,
Night claim's as much of rule, as doth the Day.

Thy Blacknesse is thy happinesse; by thee
The paint of white and red Adulterie
Can have no entertainement; all mens eyes
May trust thy face, for it brookes no disguise;
Thou need'st no Scarfes, no Black-bags here prevaile,
Thy face is both thy Beauty and thy Vaile.

Wert thou not blind (some say) thou wouldst despaire,
For being so, thou thinkst thy selfe as faire
As Helen was, but those are fooles, and know
No reason to alleadge, untill I show
The perfect truth; thou doest reserve thy eyes
But to looke inward, where true beauty lyes.
Thou lookst not on vaine glory, idle toyes
That mocke the sence, and are not reall joyes,
But lights that lead to misery; In thee
It is a vertue that thou canst not see.

Some call the Wrinckled (Negra) and are bold
To tell me that my Mistresse is as old
As twice my age, (Thus all seeke to beguile
Thy pretious worth) each wrinckle is a smile,
(Had they my eyes to see) Then, they would know
(If they be smiles) why they continue so;
I answer'd that those smiles are alwayes shewne,
To tell thou still art friends with every one.

So art thou termed crooked, cause they see
Thee (like the figure of Humility)
Still bending to the earth; but thou art wise
And wilt salute all creatures (since thy eyes

Deny thee to make choyse) twere better be
Alwayes so bent, then lose humillity.

Then doe they call thee Dumbe, (alas) because
Thou art not frequent in the talking lawes
Of idle women; must the cruell throng
Of ranke backbiters say thou hast no tongue?
Admit thou hast not, tis not thy intent
That thy chast silence should give free consent
To every motion; then they wonder what
Thou movest thy head, or point'st thy fingers at,
These were Enigmaes to them, till I told
The meaning, and the Riddle did unfould,
That none but they, who in thy thoughts abode,
Can understand the vertue of thy nod.

So, art thou none but mine; for onely I,
Retaine the knowledge of that mystery,
And I am thine, who (spight of envious mocks)
Will marry thee—by way of Paradox;
No otherwise (beleeve me Negra;) so
Ile lye with thee, and beget children too.
Thus you that marry ill, and live worse lives,
(Like me) make Para-doxes of your wives.