Hero and Leander and Other Poems | Page 3

hate,
For will in us is over-rul'd by fate.
When two
are stript long ere the course begin,
We wish that one should lose, the
other win;
And one especially do we affect
Of two gold ingots, like
in each respect:
The reason no man knows; let it suffice,

What we
behold is censur'd by our eyes.
Where both deliberate, the love is
slight:
Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight?
He kneel'd; but
unto her devoutly pray'd:
Chaste Hero to herself thus softly said,

"Were I the saint he worships, I would hear him;"
And, as she spake
those words, came somewhat near him.
He started up; she blush'd as
one asham'd;
Wherewith Leander much more was inflam'd.
He
touch'd her hand; in touching it she trembled:
Love deeply grounded,
hardly is dissembled.
These lovers parled by the touch of hands:


True love is mute, and oft amazed stands.
Thus while dumb signs
their yielding hearts entangled,
The air with sparks of living fire was
spangled;
And Night, deep-drench'd in misty Acheron,
Heav'd up
her head, and half the world upon
Breath'd darkness forth (dark night
is Cupid's day):
And now begins Leander to display
Love's holy fire,
with words, with sighs, and tears;
Which, like sweet music, enter'd
Hero's ears;
And yet at every word she turn'd aside,
And always cut
him off, as he replied.
At last, like to a bold sharp sophister,
With
cheerful hope thus he accosted her.
"Fair creature, let me speak
without offence:
I would my rude words had the influence
To lead
thy thoughts as thy fair looks do mine!
Then shouldst thou be his
prisoner, who is thine.
Be not unkind and fair; mis-shapen stuff
Are
of behaviour boisterous and rough.
O, shun me not, but hear me ere
you go!
God knows, I cannot force love as you do:
My words shall
be as spotless as my youth,
Full of simplicity and naked truth.
This
sacrifice, whose sweet perfume descending
From Venus' altar, to
your footsteps bending,
Doth testify that you exceed her far,
To
whom you offer, and whose nun you are.
Why should you worship
her? her you surpass
As much as sparkling diamons flaring glass.
A
diamond set in lead his worth retains;
A heavenly nymph, belov'd of
human swains,
Receives no blemish, but oftimes more grace;

Which makes me hope, although I am but base,
Base in respect of
thee divine and pure,
Dutiful service may thy love procure;
And I in
duty will excel all other,
As thou in beauty dost exceed Love's mother.

Nor heaven nor thou were made to gaze upon:
As heaven preserves
all things, so save thou one.

A stately builded ship, well rigg'd and
tall,
The ocean maketh more majestical:
Why vow'st thou, then, to
live in Sestos here,
Who on Love's seas more glorious wouldst appear?

Like untun'd golden strings all women are,
Which long time lie
untouch'd, will harshly jar.
Vessels of brass, oft handed, brightly
shine:
What difference betwixt the richest mine
And basest mould,
but use? for both, not us'd,
Are of like worth. Then treasure is abus'd,

When misers keep it: being put to loan,
In time it will return us two

for one.
Rich robes themselves and others do adorn;
Neither
themselves nor others, if not worn.
Who builds a palace, and rams up
the gate,
Shall see it ruinous and desolate:
Ah, simple Hero, learn
thyself to cherish!
Lone women, like to empty houses, perish.
Less
sins the poor rich man, that starves himself
In heaping up a mass of
drossy pelf,
Than such as you: his golden earth remains,
Which,
after his decease, some other gains;
But this fair gem, sweet in the
loss alone,
When you fleet hence, can be bequeath'd to none;
Or, if
it could, down from th' enamell'd sky
All heaven would come to
claim this legacy,
And with intestine broils the world destroy,
And
quite confound Nature's sweet harmony.
Well therefore by the gods
decreed it is,
We human creatures should enjoy that bliss.
One is no
number; maids are nothing, then,
Without the sweet society of men.

Wilt thou live single still? one shalt thou be,
Though never singling
Hymen couple thee.
Wild savages, that drink of running springs,

Think water far excels all earthly things;
But they, that daily taste
neat wine, despise it:
Virginity, albeit some highly prize it,

Compar'd with marriage, had you tried them both,
Differs as much as
wine and water doth.
Base bullion for the stamp's sake we allow:

Even so for men's impression do we you;
By which alone, our
reverend fathers say,
Women receive perfection every way.
This
idol, which you term virginity,
Is neither essence subject to the eye,

No, nor to any one exterior sense,
Nor hath it any place of
residence,
Nor is't of earth or mould celestial,
Or capable of any
form at all.
Of that which hath no being, do not boast:
Things that
are not at all, are never lost.

Men foolishly do call it virtuous:
What
virtue is it, that is born with us?
Much less can honour be ascrib'd
thereto:
Honour is purchas'd by the deeds we do
Believe me, Hero,
honour is not won,
Until some honourable deed be done.
Seek you,
for chastity, immortal fame,
And know that some have wrong'd
Diana's name?
Whose name is it, if she be false or not,
So she be
fair, but some vile tongues will blot?
But you are fair,