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'Nor gives it satisfaction to our blood |
That we must curb it upon others' proof, |
To be forbod the sweets that seems so good |
For fear of harms that preach in our behoof. |
O appetite, from judgement stand aloof! |
The one a palate hath that needs will taste, |
Though Reason weep, and cry it is thy last. |
'For further I could say this man's untrue, |
And knew the patterns of his foul beguiling; |
Heard where his plants in others' orchards grew; |
Saw how deceits were gilded in his smiling; |
Knew vows were ever brokers to defiling; |
Thought characters and words merely but art, |
And bastards of his foul adulterate heart. |
'And long upon these terms I held my city, |
Till thus he 'gan besiege me: "Gentle maid, |
Have of my suffering youth some feeling pity, |
And be not of my holy vows afraid. |
That's to ye sworn to none was ever said; |
For feasts of love I have been called unto, |
Till now did ne'er invite nor never woo. |
'"All my offences that abroad you see |
Are errors of the blood, none of the mind; |
Love made them not; with acture they may be, |
Where neither party is nor true nor kind. |
They sought their shame that so their shame did find; |
And so much less of shame in me remains |
By how much of me their reproach contains. |
'"Among the many that mine eyes have seen, |
Not one whose flame my heart so much as warmed, |
Or my affection put to th' smallest teen, |
Or any of my leisures ever charmed. |
Harm have I done to them, but ne'er was harmed; |
Kept hearts in liveries, but mine own was free, |
And reigned commanding in his monarchy. |
'"Look here what tributes wounded fancies sent me, |
Of paled pearls and rubies red as blood; |
Figuring that they their passions likewise lent me |
Of grief and blushes, aptly understood |
In bloodless white and the encrimsoned mood- |
Effects of terror and dear modesty, |
Encamped in hearts, but fighting outwardly. |
'"And, lo, behold these talents of their hair, |
With twisted metal amorously empleached, |
I have receiv'd from many a several fair, |
Their kind acceptance weepingly beseeched, |
With the annexions of fair gems enriched, |
And deep-brained sonnets that did amplify |
Each stone's dear nature, worth, and quality. |
'"The diamond? why, 'twas beautiful and hard, |
Whereto his invised properties did tend; |
The deep-green em'rald, in whose fresh regard |
Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend; |
The heaven-hued sapphire and the opal blend |
With objects manifold; each several stone, |
With wit well blazoned, smiled, or made some moan. |
'"Lo, all these trophies of affections hot, |
Of pensived and subdued desires the tender, |
Nature hath charged me that I hoard them not, |
But yield them up where I myself must render- |
That is, to you, my origin and ender; |
For these, of force, must your oblations be, |
Since I their altar, you enpatron me. |
'"O then advance of yours that phraseless hand |
Whose white weighs down the airy scale of praise; |
Take all these similes to your own command, |
Hallowed with sighs that burning lungs did raise; |
What me your minister for you obeys |
Works under you; and to your audit comes |
Their distract parcels in combined sums. |
'"Lo, this device was sent me from a nun, |
Or sister sanctified, of holiest note, |
Which late her noble suit in court did shun, |
Whose rarest havings made the blossoms dote; |
For she was sought by spirits of richest coat, |
But kept cold distance, and did thence remove |
To spend her living in eternal love. |
'"But, O my sweet, what labour is't to leave |
The thing we have not, mast'ring what not strives, |
Playing the place which did no form receive, |
Playing patient sports in unconstrained gyves! |
She that her fame so to herself contrives, |
The scars of battle scapeth by the flight, |
And makes her absence valiant, not her might. |
'"O pardon me in that my boast is true! |
The accident which brought me to her eye |
Upon the moment did her force subdue, |
And now she would the caged cloister fly. |
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