2.

Complaisant Nymph, who do'est thus kindly share
In griefs, whose cause thou do'est not know!
Hadst thou but Eyes, as well as Tongue and Ear,
How much compassion wouldst thou show!
Thy flame, whilst living, or a flower,

Was of less beauty, and less rav'ishing power;
Alas, I might as easilie,

Paint thee to her, as describe Her to Thee.

3.

By repercussion Beams engender Fire,
Shapes by reflexion shapes beget;

The voyce it self, when stopt, does back retire,
And a new voice is made by it.
Thus things by opposition

The gainers grow; my barren Love alone,
Does from her stony breast rebound,
Producing neither Image, Fire, nor Sound.

The rich Rival.

I.

Hey say you're angry, and rant mightilie,
Because I love the same as you;

TH

Alas! you're very rich; 'tis true;

But prithee Fool, what's that to Love and Me?

You'have Land and Money, let that serve; And know you'have more by that than you deserve.

2.

When next I see my fair One, she shall know,
How worthless thou art of her bed;

And wretch, I'll strike thee dumb and dead,
With noble verse not understood by you;
Whilst thy sole Rhetorick shall be

Joynture, and Jewels, and Our Friends agree.

3.

Pox o' your friends, that dote and Domineere:
Lovers are better Friends than they:

Let's those in other things obey;

The Fates, and Stars, and Gods must govern here.
Vain names of Blood! in Love let none
Advise with any Blood, but with their own.

4.

'Tis that which bids me this bright Maid adore; No other thought has had access!

Did she now beg I'd love no less,

And were she'an Empress, I should love no more;
Were she as just and true to Me,
Ah, simple soul, what would become of Thee!

H

Against Hope.

I.

Ope, whose weak Being ruin'd is,
Alike if it succeed, and if it miss;

Whom Good or Ill does equally confound,
And both the Horns of Fates Dilemma wound.
Vain shadow! which dost vanish quite,
Both at full Noon, and perfect Night!

The Stars have not a possibility

Of blessing Thee;

If things then from their End we happy call, 'Tis Hope is the most Hopeless thing of all.

2.

Hope, thou bold Taster of Delight, Who whilst thou shouldst but tast, devour'st it quite! Thou bringst us an Estate, yet leav'st us Poor,

By clogging it with Legacies before!

The Joys which we entire should wed,
Come deflowr'd Virgins to our bed;

Good fortunes without gain imported be,
Such mighty Custom's paid to Thee.
For Joy, like Wine, kept close does better tast;
If it take air before, its spirits wast.

3.

Hope, Fortunes cheating Lottery!

Where for one prize an hundred blanks there be;
Fond Archer, Hope, who tak'st thy aim so far,
That still or short, or wide thine arrows are!

Thin, empty Cloud, which th'eye deceives
With shapes that our own Fancy gives!
A Cloud, which gilt and painted now appears,
But must drop presently in tears!

When thy false beams o're Reasons light prevail,
By Ignes fatui for North-Stars we sail.

4.

Brother of Fear, more gaily clad!

The merrier Fool o'th' two, yet quite as Mad:
Sire of Repentance, Child of fond Desire!
That blow'st the Chymicks, and the Lovers fire!
Leading them still insensibly 'on

By the strange witchcraft of Anon!

By Thee the one does changing Nature through
Her endless Labyrinths pursue,

And th'other chases Woman, whilst She goes
More ways and turns than hunted Nature knows.

For Hope.

I.

Ope, of all Ills that men endure,

The only cheap and Universal Cure!

Thou Captives freedom, and Thou sick Mans Health!
Thou Losers Victory, and thou Beggars wealth!
Thou Manna, which from Heav'n we eat,
To every Tast a several Meat!

Thou strong Retreat! thou sure entail'd Estate,
Which nought has power to alienate!

Thou pleasant, honest Flatterer! for none
Flatter unhappy Men, but thou alone!

2.

Hope, thou First-fruits of Happiness!
Thou gentle Dawning of a bright Success!
Thou good Prepar'ative, without which our Joy
Does work too strong, and whilst it cures, destroy;
Who out of Fortunes reach dost stand,
And art a blessing still in hand!

Whilst Thee, her Earnest-Money we retain,
We certain are to gain,

Whether she'her bargain break, or else fulfill;
Thou only good, not worse, for ending ill!

3.

Brother of Faith, 'twixt whom and Thee
The joys of Heav'en and Earth divided be!
Though Faith be Heir, and have the fixt estate,
Thy Portion yet in Moveables is great.
Happiness it self's all one

In Thee, or in possession !

Only the Future's Thine, the present His!

Thine's the more hard and noble bliss;
Best apprehender of our joys, which hast
So long a reach, and yet canst hold so fast!

4.

Hope, thou sad Lovers only Friend!

Thou Way that mayst dispute it with the End!
For Love I fear's a fruit that does delight

The Tast it self less than the Smell and Sight.
Fruition more deceitful is

Than Thou canst be, when thou dost miss

Men leave thee by obtaining, and strait flee
Some other way again to Thee;
And that's a pleasant Country, without doubt,
To which all soon return that travel out,

;

I

Loves Ingratitude.

I.

Little thought, thou fond ingrateful Sin,

When first I let thee in,

And gave thee but a part

In my unwary Heart,

That thou wouldst e're have grown,
So false or strong to make it all thine own.

2.

At mine own breast with care I fed thee still,
Letting thee suck thy fill,
And daintily I nourisht Thee
With Idle thoughts and Poetrie!
What ill returns dost thou allow?

I fed thee then, and thou dost starve me now.

3.

There was a time, when thou wast cold and chill,
Nor hadst the power of doing ill;
Into my bosom did I take,

This frozen and benummed Snake,

Not fearing from it any harm ;

But now it stings that breast which made it warm.

4.

What cursed weed's this Love! but one grain sow,
And the whole field 'twill overgrow;

Strait will it choak up and devour
Each wholesome herb and beauteous flour!

Nay unless something soon I do,

"Twill kill I fear my very Lawrel too.

5.

But now all's gone, I now, alas, complain,
Declare, protest, and threat in vain.
Since by my own unforc'd consent,
The Traytor has my Government,
And is so settled in the Throne,

That 'twere Rebellion now to claim mine own.