The Choise of Valentines | Page 6

thus striuing, we perseuer:?But what so firme that maie continue euer??"Oh not so fast," my rauisht Mistriss cryes,?"Leaste my content, that on thy life relyes, 180
Be brought too-soone from his delightfull seate,?And me unwares of hoped bliss defeate.?Together lett us marche unto content,?And be consumed with one blandishment." 184
As she prescrib'd so kept we crotchet-time,?And euerie stroake in ordre lyke a chyme,?Whilst she, that had preseru'd me by hir pittie,?Unto our musike fram'd a groaning dittie. 188
"Alass! alass! that loue should be a sinne!?Euen now my blisse and sorrowe doeth beginne.?Hould wyde thy lapp, my louelie Danae,?And entretaine the golden shoure so free, 192
That trikling falles into thy treasurie.?As Aprill-drops not half so pleasant be,?Nor Nilus overflowe to ?gipt plaines?As this sweet-streames that all hir ioints imbaynes. 196
With "Oh!" and "Oh!" she itching moues hir hipps,?And to and fro full lightlie starts and skips:?She ierkes hir leggs, and sprauleth with hir heeles;?No tongue maie tell the solace that she feeles, 200
"I faint! I yeald! Oh, death! rock me a-sleepe!?Sleepe! sleepe desire! entombed in the deepe!"?"Not so, my deare," my dearest saint replyde,?"For, from us yett, thy spirit maie not glide 204
Untill the sinnowie channels of our blood?Without their source from this imprisoned flood;?And then will we (that then will com too soone),?Dissolued lye, as though our dayes were donne." 208
The whilst I speake, my soule is fleeting hence,?And life forsakes his fleshie residence.?Staie, staie sweete ioye, and leaue me not forlorne?Why shouldst thou fade that art but newelie borne? 212
"Staie but an houre, an houre is not so much:?But half an houre; if that thy haste is such,?Naie, but a quarter--I will aske no more--?That thy departure (which torments me sore), 216
Maie be alightned with a little pause,?And take awaie this passions sudden cause."?He heare's me not; hard-harted as he is,?He is the sonne of Time, and hates my blisse. 220
Time nere looke's backe, the riuers nere returne;?A second springe must help me or I burne.?No, no, the well is drye that should refresh me,?The glasse is runne of all my destinie: 224
Nature of winter learneth nigardize?Who, as he ouer-beares the streame with ice?That man nor beaste maie of their pleasance taste,?So shutts she up hir conduit all in haste, 228
And will not let hir Nectar ouer-flowe,?Least mortall man immortall ioyes should knowe.?Adieu! unconstant loue, to thy disporte?Adieu! false mirth, and melodie too short; 232
Adieu! faint-hearted instrument of lust;?That falselie hath betrayde our equale trust.?Hence-forth no more will I implore thine ayde,?Or thee, or man of cowardize upbrayde. 236
My little dilldo shall suply their kinde:?A knaue, that moues as light as leaues by winde;?That bendeth not, nor fouldeth anie deale,?But stands as stiff as he were made of steele; 240
And playes at peacock twixt my leggs right blythe,?And doeth my tickling swage with manie a sighe.?For, by saint Runnion! he'le refresh me well;?And neuer make my tender bellie swell. 244
Poore Priapus! whose triumph now must falle,?Except thou thrust this weakeling to the walle.?Behould! how he usurps, in bed and bowre?And undermines thy kingdom euerie howre; 248
How slye he creepes betwixt the barke and tree,?And sucks the sap, whilst sleepe detaineth thee.?He is my Mistris page at euerie stound,?And soone will tent a deepe intrenched wound. 252
He wayte's on Courtlie Nimphs that be so coye,?And bids them skorne the blynd-alluring boye.?He giues yong guirls their gamesome sustenance,?And euerie gaping mouth his full sufficeance. 256
He fortifies disdaine with forraine artes,?And wanton-chaste deludes all loving hartes.?If anie wight a cruell mistris serue's,?Or, in dispaire, (unhappie) pines and staru's, 260
Curse Eunuke dilldo, senceless counterfet?Who sooth maie fill, but never can begett.?But, if revenge enraged with dispaire,?That such a dwarf his wellfare should empaire, 264
Would faine this womans secretarie knowe,?Lett him attend the markes that I shall showe:?He is a youth almost two handfulls highe,?Streight, round, and plumb, yett hauing but one eye, 268
Wherein the rhewme so feruentlie doeth raigne,?That Stigian gulph maie scarce his teares containe;?Attired in white veluet, or in silk,?And nourisht with whott water, or with milk, 272
Arm'd otherwhile in thick congealed glasse,?When he, more glib, to hell be lowe would passe.?Vpon a charriot of five wheeles he rydes,?The which an arme strong driuer stedfast guides, 276
And often alters pace as wayes growe deepe,?(For who, in pathes unknowne, one gate can keepe?)?Sometimes he smoothlie slideth doune the hill;?Another while, the stones his feete doe kill; 280
In clammie waies he treaddeth by and by,?And plasheth and sprayeth all that be him nye.?So fares this iollie rider in his race,?Plunging and sousing forward in lyke case, 284
He dasht, and spurted, and he plodded foule,?God giue thee shame, thou blinde mischapen owle!?Fy-fy, for grief: a ladies chamberlaine,?And canst not thou thy tatling tongue refraine? 288
I reade thee beardles blab, beware of stripes,?And be aduised what thou vainelie pipes;?Thou wilt be whipt with nettles for this