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Stand still, and I will read to thee
These three hours that we have spent,Walking here, two shadows wentAlong with us, which we ourselves produc’d.But, now the sun is just above our head,We do those shadows tread,And to brave clearness all things are reduc’d.So whilst our infant loves did grow,Disguises did, and shadows, flowFrom us, and our cares; but now ’tis not so.That…
Till I have peace with thee, warr other Men,
All other Warrs are scrupulous; Only thou0 fayr free Citty, maist thyselfe allowTo any one: In Flanders, who can tellWhether the Master presse; or men rebell?Only we know, that which all Ideots say,They beare most blows which come to part the fray.France in her lunatique giddines did hateEver our men, yea and our God of…
Good we must love, and must hate ill,
But there are things indifferent,Which wee may neither hate, nor love,But one, and then another prove,As we shall find our fancy bent.If then at first wise Nature hadMade women either good or bad,Then some wee might hate, and some choose ;But since she did them so create,That we may neither love, nor hate,Only this rests,…
For God’s sake hold your tongue, and let me love,
My five grey hairs, or ruin’d fortune flout,With wealth your state, your mind with arts improve,Take you a course, get you a place,Observe his Honour, or his Grace,Or the King’s real, or his stamped faceContemplate, what you will, approve,So you will let me love.Alas, alas, who’s injur’d by my love?What merchant’s ships have my sighs…
Thou art not so black as my heart,
What would’st thou say ? shall both our properties by thee be spoke,—Nothing more endless, nothing sooner broke?Marriage rings are not of this stuff ;Oh, why should ought less precious, or less toughFigure our loves ? except in thy name thou have bid it say,‘—I’m cheap, and nought but fashion ; fling me away.’Yet stay…
Now thou hast loved me one whole day,
Wilt thou then antedate some new-made vow?Or say that nowWe are not just those persons which we were?Or, that oaths made in reverential fearOf love, and his wrath, any may forswear?Or, as true deaths, true marriages untie,So lovers’ contracts, images of those,Bind but till sleep, death’s image, them unloose?Or your own end to justify,For having…