ON HER PLEADING WANT OF TIME .

I.

On Thames' bank a gentle youth
For Lucy sigh'd with matchless truth
Ev'n when he sigh'd in rhyme;
The lovely maid his flame return'd,
And would with equal warmth have burn'd,
But that she had not time.

II.

Oft' he repair'd with eager feet
In secret shades his fair to meet
Beneath th' accustom'd lime;
She would have fondly met him there,
And heal'd with love each tender care,
But that she had not time.

III.

I.

Fair Nature's sweet simplicity,
With elegance refin'd,
Well in thy feat, my Friend! I see,
But better in thy mind.

II.

To both from courts and all their state
Eager I fly, to prove
Joys far above a courtier's fate,
Tranquillity and love.

Time makes great states decay,
Time doth Maye's pompe disgrace,
Time drawes deepe furrowes in the fairest face,
Time wisdome, force, renowne doth take away,
Time doth consume the yeeres,
Time changes workes in heauen's eternall spheares:
Yet this fierce tyrant, which doth all deuoure,
To lessen loue in mee shall haue no power.

And would yee, louers, know
Why Loue doth naked goe?
Fond, waggish, changeling lad,
Late whilst Thaumantia's voyce
Hee wondring heard, it made him so rejoyce,
That hee o'rejoy'd ran mad,
And in a franticke fit threw cloathes away,
And since from lip and lap hers can not straye.

Beauty, sweet despot! at whose rosy throne,
With fond obeisance, bows the willing earth;
Whose yoke the brave, whose sway the scepter'd, own;
Say, did the gods, in anger, give thee birth?

But to destroy, bright angel, wert thou sent?
The lovely plague, alluring scourge of Heav'n!
Was that soft eye, to scatter torments, meant?
Were those sweet smiles, to kindle anguish, giv'n?

Say, with severe intent, hath Nature fram'd
Of all her works the fairest as the last?
Hath she the lily's white, in vengeance, sham'd?

Who doth presume my Mistress's name to scan,
Goes about more then any way he can,
Since all men think that it is Susan . Echo Ann .

What say'st? Then tell who is as white as Swan,
While others set by her are pale and wan,
Then, Echo , speak, Is it not Susan ? Ec. Ann .

Tell, Echo , yet, whose middle's but a span,
Some being gross as bucket, round as pan;
Say, Echo , then, Is it not Susan ? Ec. Ann .

Say, is she not soft as meal without bran,
Though yet in great hast once from me she ran,
Must I not however love Susan ? Ec. Ann .

Deep Sighs, Records of my unpitied Grief,
Memorials of my true, though hopeless Love,
Keep time with my sad thoughts, till wish'd Relief
My long despairs for vain and causless prove.

Yet if such hap never to you befall,
I give you leave, break time, break heart and all.

Those eyes, deare eyes, bee spheares,
Where two bright sunnes are roll'd;
That faire hand to behold,
Of whitest snowe appeares:
Then while yee coylie stand,
To hide from mee those eyes,
Sweet, I would you aduise
To choose some other fanne than that white hand;
For if yee doe, for trueth most true this know,
That sunnes ere long must needes consume warme snow.

Sweet, bide with me and let my love
Be an enduring tether;
Oh, wanton not from spot to spot,
But let us dwell together.

You 've come each morn to sip the sweets
With which you found me dripping,
Yet never knew it was not dew
But tears that you were sipping.

You gambol over honey meads
Where siren bees are humming;
But mine the fate to watch and wait
For my beloved's coming.

The sunshine that delights you now
Shall fade to darkness gloomy;
You should not fear if, biding here,
You nestled closer to me.

There were three cavaliers that went over the Rhine,
And gayly they called to the hostess for wine.
" And where is thy daughter? We would she were here, —
Go fetch us that maiden to gladden our cheer! "

" I 'll fetch thee thy goblets full foaming, " she said,
" But in yon darkened chamber the maiden lies dead. "
And lo! as they stood in the doorway, the white
Of a shroud and a dead shrunken face met their sight.

Then the first cavalier breathed a pitiful sigh,
And the throb of his heart seemed to melt in his eye,