A Lovers Complaint | Page 5

mine eyes have seen,
Not one whose flame my
heart so much as warm'd,
Or my affection put to the smallest teen,

Or any of my leisures ever charm'd:
Harm have I done to them, but
ne'er was harmed;
Kept hearts in liveries, but mine own was free,

And reign'd, 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 encrimson'd mood;
Effects of terror and dear modesty,

Encamp'd in hearts, but fighting outwardly.
'And, lo! behold these talents of their hair,
With twisted metal
amorously empleach'd,
I have receiv'd from many a several fair,

(Their kind acceptance weepingly beseech'd,)
With the annexions of
fair gems enrich'd,
And deep-brain'd sonnets that did amplify
Each
stone's dear nature, worth, and quality.
'The diamond, why 'twas beautiful and hard,
Whereto his invis'd
properties did tend;
The deep-green emerald, 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 blazon'd, smil'd, or made some moan.
'Lo! all these trophies of affections hot,
Of pensiv'd and subdued
desires the tender,
Nature hath charg'd 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,
Hallow'd 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,
mastering what not strives?
Paling 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:
Religious love put out religion's eye:

Not to be tempted, would she be immur'd,
And now, to tempt all,
liberty procur'd.
'How mighty then you are, O hear me tell!
The broken bosoms that to
me belong
Have emptied all their fountains in my well,
And mine I
pour your ocean all among:
I strong o'er them, and you o'er me being
strong,
Must for your victory us all congest,
As compound love to
physic your cold breast.
'My parts had pow'r to charm a sacred nun,
Who, disciplin'd and
dieted in grace,
Believ'd her eyes when they t oassail begun,
All
vows and consecrations giving place.
O most potential love! vow,
bond, nor space,
In thee hath neither sting, knot, nor confine,
For
thou art all, and all things else are thine.
'When thou impressest, what are precepts worth
Of stale example?
When thou wilt inflame,
How coldly those impediments stand forth,

Of wealth, of filial fear, law, kindred, fame!
Love's arms are peace,
'gainst rule, 'gainst sense, 'gainst shame.
And sweetens, in the
suffering pangs it bears,
The aloes of all forces, shocks and fears.
'Now all these hearts that do on mine depend,
Feeling it break, with
bleeding groans they pine,
And supplicant their sighs to your extend,

To leave the battery 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 troth.
'This said, his watery eyes he did dismount,
Whose sights till then
were levell'd on my face;
Each cheek a river running from a fount

With brinish current downward flow'd apace:
O, how the channel to
the stream gave grace!
Who, glaz'd 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 inundation of the eyes
What rocky
heart to water will not wear?
What breast so cold that is not warmed
here?
O cleft effect! cold modesty, hot wrath,
Both fire from hence
and chill extincture hath.
'For lo! his passion, but an art of craft,
Even there resolv'd my reason
into tears;
There my white stole of chastity I daff'd,
Shook off my
sober guards, and civil fears;
Appear to him, as he to me appears,

All melting; though our drops this difference bore:
His poison'd me,
and mine did him restore.
'In him a plenitude of subtle matter,
Applied to cautels, all strange
forms receives,
Of burning blushes or of weeping water,
Or
swooning paleness; and he takes and leaves,
In either's aptness, as it
best deceives,
To blush at speeches rank, to weep at woes,
Or to