When I break twenty? I am perjured most,
For all my vows are oaths but to misuse7 thee,
And all my honest faith in thee is lost.
For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness9,
Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy,
And to enlighten11 thee gave eyes to blindness,
Or made them swear against the thing they see.
For I have sworn thee fair: more perjured eye13,
To swear against the truth so foul14 a lie.
Sonnet 153
Cupid1 laid by his brand and fell asleep.
A maid of Dian2's this advantage found,
And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep3
In a cold valley-fountain of that ground4,
Which borrowed from this holy fire of love
A dateless6 lively heat, still to endure,
And grew7 a seething bath, which yet men prove
Against strange8 maladies a sovereign cure.
But at my mistress' eye love's brand new-fired9,
The boy10 for trial needs would touch my breast.
I, sick withal11, the help of bath desired,
And thither hied12, a sad distempered guest,
But found no cure: the bath for my help lies
Where Cupid got new fire -- my mistress' eyes.
Sonnet 154
The little Love-god1 lying once asleep
Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand2,
Whilst many nymphs that vowed chaste life to keep
Came tripping by, but in her maiden hand
The fairest votary5 took up that fire
Which many legions of true hearts had warmed,
And so the general7 of hot desire
Was, sleeping, by a virgin hand disarmed.
This brand she quenched in a cool well by,
Which from love's fire took heat perpetual,
Growing a bath and healthful remedy
For men diseased12: but I, my mistress' thrall,
Came there for cure, and this by that I prove:
Love's fire heats water, water cools not love.
FINIS
"A LOVER'S COMPLAINT"
From off a hill whose concave womb1 reworded
A plaintful2 story from a sist'ring vale,
My spirits t'attend3 this double voice accorded
And down I laid to list4 the sad-tuned tale,
Ere5 long espied a fickle maid full pale,
Tearing of papers6, breaking rings atwain,
Storming her world with sorrow's wind and rain.
Upon her head a plaited hive of straw8
Which fortified her visage from the sun,
Whereon the thought10 might think sometime it saw
The carcass11 of a beauty spent and done.
Time had not scythed all that youth begun,
Nor youth all quit13 but, spite of heaven's fell rage,
Some beauty peeped through lattice14 of seared age.
Oft did she heave15 her napkin to her eyne
Which on it had conceited characters16,
Laund'ring17 the silken figures in the brine
That seasoned18 woe had pelleted in tears
And often reading what contents it bears,
As often shrieking undistinguished20 woe
In clamours of all size21, both high and low.
Sometimes her levelled22 eyes their carriage ride
As23 they did batt'ry to the spheres intend:
Sometime diverted their poor balls24 are tied
To th'orbed25 earth; sometimes they do extend
Their view right on26, anon their gazes lend
To every place at once and, nowhere fixed,
The mind and sight distractedly commixed28.
Her hair, nor loose nor29 tied in formal plait,
Proclaimed in her a careless hand of pride
For some, untucked, descended her sheaved31 hat,
Hanging her pale and pined32 cheek beside,
Some in her threaden fillet33 still did bide,
And true to bondage would not break from thence,
Though slackly braided in loose negligence.
A thousand favours36 from a maund she drew
Of amber, crystal and of beaded jet,
Which one by one she in a river threw
Upon whose weeping margent39 she was set,
Like usury40, applying wet to wet,
Or monarch's hands that lets not bounty fall
Where want cries some, but where excess begs all41.
Of folded schedules43 had she many a one
Which she perused, sighed, tore and gave the flood44,
Cracked many a ring of posied gold and bone45
Bidding them find their sepulchres46 in mud,
Found yet more letters sadly penned in blood,
With sleided48 silk feat and affectedly
Enswathed49 and sealed to curious secrecy.
These often bathed she in her fluxive50 eyes
And often kissed and often gave to tear51,
Cried, 'O false blood, thou register of lies,
What unapproved53 witness dost thou bear!
Ink would have seemed more black and damned here!54'
This said, in top of55 rage the lines she rents,
Big discontent so breaking their contents56.
A reverend57 man that grazed his cattle nigh --
Sometime58 a blusterer that the ruffle knew
Of court, of city, and had let go by
The swiftest hours, observed as they flew59 --
Towards this afflicted fancy61 fastly drew
And, privileged by age, desires62 to know
In brief the grounds and motives of her woe.
So slides he down upon his grained bat64,
And comely-distant65 sits he by her side,
When he again desires her, being sat,
Her grievance with his hearing to divide67.
If that from him there may be aught68 applied
Which may her suffering ecstasy69 assuage,
'Tis promised in the charity of age.
'Father71,' she says, 'though in me you behold
The injury of many a blasting72 hour,
Let it not tell your judgement I am old:
Not age, but sorrow, over me hath power,
I might as yet have been a spreading75 flower,
Fresh to myself, if I had self-applied
Love to myself and to no love beside.
'But woe is me! Too early I attended78
A youthful suit79 -- it was to gain my grace --
O, one by nature's outwards80 so commended
That maidens' eyes stuck over all81 his face.
Love82 lacked a dwelling and made him her place
And when in his fair parts she did abide,
She was new lodged and newly deified.
'His browny locks did hang in crooked85 curls
And every light occasion86 of the wind
Upon his lips their silken parcels hurls87.
What's sweet to do, to do will aptly find88:
Each eye that saw him did enchant the mind,
For on his visage was in little90 drawn
What largeness thinks in paradise was sawn91.
'Small show of man was yet upon his chin,
His phoenix down93 began but to appear
Like unshorn94 velvet on that termless skin
Whose bare out-bragged the web it seemed to wear95.
Yet showed his visage by that cost96 more dear,
And nice affections97 wavering stood in doubt
If best were as it was, or best without.
'His qualities were beauteous as his form,
For maiden-tongued100 he was and thereof free;
Yet if men moved101 him, was he such a storm
As oft 'twixt May and April is to see,
When winds breathe sweet unruly though they be.
His rudeness so wit
h his authorized youth
Did livery105 falseness in a pride of truth104.
'Well could he ride and often men would say,
"That horse his mettle107 from his rider takes.
Proud of subjection, noble by the sway108,
What rounds109, what bounds, what course, what stop he makes!"
And controversy110 hence a question takes:
Whether the horse by him became his deed111,
Or he112 his manage by th'well-doing steed.
'But quickly on this side the verdict went:
His real habitude114 gave life and grace
To appertainings115 and to ornament,
Accomplished in himself, not in his case116:
All aids117, themselves made fairer by their place,
Came for additions118, yet their purposed trim
Pieced not119 his grace, but were all graced by him.
'So on the tip of his subduing120 tongue
All kind of arguments and question deep,
All replication122 prompt and reason strong,
For his advantage still did wake and sleep123,
To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep:
He had the dialect125 and different skill,
Catching all passions in his craft of will126,
'That127 he did in the general bosom reign
Of young, of old and sexes both enchanted
To dwell with him in thoughts, or to remain
In personal duty, following where he haunted130:
Consents bewitched, ere he desire have granted,
And dialogued for him what he would say,
Asked their own wills and made their wills obey131.
'Many there were that did his picture get,
To serve their eyes, and in it put their mind135
Like fools that in th'imagination set
The goodly objects137 which abroad they find
Of lands and mansions, theirs in thought138 assigned,
And labouring in more pleasures to bestow them139
Than the true gouty landlord which doth owe them.
'So many have, that never touched his hand,
Sweetly supposed them142 mistress of his heart.
My woeful self, that did in freedom stand,
And was my own fee-simple144, not in part,
What with his art in youth and youth in art,
Threw my affections in his charmed146 power,
Reserved the stalk and gave him all my flower147.
'Yet did I not, as some my equals did,
Demand of him, nor being desired yielded149.
Finding myself in honour so forbid,
With safest distance I mine honour shielded.
Experience for me many bulwarks152 builded
Of proofs new-bleeding153, which remained the foil
Of this false jewel and his amorous spoil154.
'But, ah, who ever shunned by precedent155
The destined ill she must herself assay156?
Or forced examples, gainst her own content,
To put the by-past perils in her way157?
Counsel may stop awhile159 what will not stay:
For when we rage160, advice is often seen
By blunting us to make our wits161 more keen.
'Nor gives it satisfaction to our blood162
That we must curb it upon others' proof163;
To be forbod164 the sweets that seems so good,
For fear of harms that preach in our behoof165.
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 knew170 the patterns of his foul beguiling,
Heard where his plants171 in others' orchards grew,
Saw how deceits were gilded in his smiling,
Knew vows were ever brokers173 to defiling,
Thought characters and words174 merely but art
And bastards of his foul adulterate175 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's180 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 abroad183 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 kind185:
They sought their shame that so their shame did find187
And so much less of shame in me remains
By how much of me their reproach contains188.
' "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 teen192,
Or any of my leisures193 ever charmed.
Harm have I done to them, but ne'er was harmed:
Kept hearts in liveries195, but mine own was free,
And reigned, commanding in his monarchy.
' "Look here, what tributes wounded fancies197 sent me
Of pallid198 pearls and rubies red as blood,
Figuring199 that they their passions likewise lent me
Of grief and blushes, aptly understood
In bloodless white and the encrimsoned mood,
Effects202 of terror and dear modesty,
Encamped in hearts but fighting outwardly.
' "And, lo, behold these talents204 of their hair,
With twisted205 metal amorously impleached,
I have received from many a several fair206,
Their kind acceptance207 weepingly beseeched,
With th'annexions208 of fair gems enriched,
And deep-brained209 sonnets that did amplify
Each stone's dear210 nature, worth and quality.
' "The diamond -- why, 'twas beautiful and hard,
Whereto his invised212 properties did tend --
The deep-green em'rald, in whose fresh regard213
Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend --
The heaven-hued215 sapphire and the opal blend
With objects manifold216: each several stone,
With wit well blazoned217, smiled or made some moan.
' "Lo, all these trophies of affections hot218,
Of pensived219 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 force223 must your oblations be,
Since I their altar, you enpatron me224.
' "O then, advance of yours that phraseless225 hand,
Whose white weighs down the airy scale of praise,
Take all these similes227 to your own command,
Hallowed228 with sighs that burning lungs did raise.
What me, your minister, for you obeys229,
Works under you and to your audit230 comes
Their distract parcels231 in combined sums.
' "Lo232, this device was sent me from a nun,
Or sister sanctified, of holiest note233,
Which late234 her noble suit in court did shun,
Whose rarest havings235 made the blossoms dote,
For she was sought by spirits of richest coat236
But kept cold237 distance and did thence remove
To spend her living238 in eternal love.
' "But, O my sweet, what labour is't239 to leave
The thing we have not, mast'ring what not strives240,
Paling241 the place which did no form receive,
Playing patient sports in unconstrained gyves242?
She that her fame so to herself contri
ves243,
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 accident247 which brought me to her eye
Upon the moment did her force subdue
And now she would the caged cloister249 fly.
Religious love250 put out religion's eye:
Not to be tempted, would she be immured,
And now, to tempt all, liberty procured251.
' "How mighty then you are! O hear me tell!
The broken bosoms that to me belong
Have emptied all their fountains255 in my well
And mine I pour your ocean all among:
I strong257 o'er them and you o'er me being strong,
Must for258 your victory us all congest
As compound259 love to physic your cold breast.
' "My parts260 had power to charm a sacred nun,
Who, disciplined, ay, dieted in grace,
Believed her eyes when they t'assail begun262,
All vows and consecrations263 giving place.
O most potential264 love! Vow, bond, nor space,
In thee hath neither sting265, knot, nor confine,
For thou art all and all things else are thine.
' "When thou impressest267, what are precepts worth
Of stale example? When thou wilt inflame,
How coldly those impediments stand forth
Of wealth, of filial fear270, law, kindred, fame!
Love's arms are peace, gainst271 rule, gainst sense, gainst shame,
And sweetens, in the suff'ring pangs272 it bears,
The aloes273 of all forces, shocks and fears.
' "Now all these hearts that do on mine depend,
Feeling it break, with bleeding groans275 they pine,
And supplicant their sighs to you extend
To leave the batt'ry that you make gainst mine,
Lending soft audience to my sweet design
And credent soul to that strong-bonded oath
That shall prefer and undertake my troth280278."
'This said, his watery eyes he did dismount281,
Whose sights till then were levelled on my face:
Each cheek a river running from a fount
With brinish284 current downward flowed apace.
O, how the channel285 to the stream gave grace,
Who286 glazed with crystal gate the glowing roses
That flame through water which their hue encloses!
'O father, what a hell of witchcraft lies
In the small orb of one particular tear.
But with the inundation290 of the eyes