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One on another's neck do witness bear :
Thy black is faireft in my judgment's place.
In nothing art thou black, fave in thy deeds,
And thence this flander, as I think, proceeds.
Thine eyes I love, and they as pitying me,
Knowing thy heart torments me with disdain,
Have put on black, and loving mourners be,
Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
And truly not the morning-fun of heaven
Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east;
Nor that full star that ushers in the even,
Doth half that glory to the sober weit,
As those two mourning eyes become thy face :
Oh! let it then as well beieem thy heart
To mourn for me, fince mourning doth thee grace,
And fute thy pity like in every part.
Then will I swear beauty herself is black,
And all they foul that thy complection lack.
Besh rew that heart that makes my heart to groang.
For that deep wound it gives my friend and me;
Is't not enough to torture me alone,
But slave to llavery my sweetelt friend must be
Me from mytelf thy cruel eye hath taken,
And my next self thou harder haft engross'd;
Of him, myself, and thee I am forsaken,
A torment thrice.three-fold thus to be cross'd.
Prison my heart in thy steel bofom's ward,
But then my friend's heart let my poor heart bail ;.
Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard,
Thou canst not then use rigour in my jail,
And yet thou wilt, for I being pent in thee,
Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.
So now I have confeft that he is thine,
And I myself am mortgag’ to thy will;
Myself I'll forfeit, so that other mine
Thou wilt restore to me, my comfort still.
But thou wilt not, nor he will not be freeg
For thou art covetous, and he is kind;
He learn'd, but surety-like to write for me,
Under that bond that him as fast doch bind,
The Itatute of thy beauty thou wilt take,
Thou usurer, that put'it forth all to use;
And fue a friend, caine debtor for my fake,
So him I lose thro' my unkind abuse.
Him have I lost, thou hast both him and me;
pays the whole, and yet I am not free.
Whoever hath her with, thou hast thy Will, -
And Will to boot, and Will in overplus;
More than enough am I that vex thee still,
To thy sweet will making addition thus.
Wilt thou, whose will is large and spacious,
Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine?:
Shall will in others seem right gracious,
And in my will no fair acceptance shine ?--
The sea all water, yet receives sain still,
And in abundance addeth to his store;
So thou being rich in Willy add to thy Will
One will of mine, to make thy large Will more.-
Let no unkind, no fair beseechers kill,
Think all but one, and me in that one Willo
If thy soul check thee that I come fo near,
Swear to thy blind foul that I was thy Will;
And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there;
Thus far for love, my love-suit sweet fulfil.
Will will fulfil the treasure of thy love,
I fill it full with wills, and my will one :
In things of great receipt with ease we proveg,
Among a number one is reckon'd none.
Then in the number let me pass untold,
Tho' in thy store's account I one must be :-
For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold
That nothing me, a something sweet to thee.
Make but my name thy love, and love that still
And then shou lov'lt me, for my name is Will..
His Heart: wounded by her Eye:
Thou blind fool, love, what dost thou to mine eyes,
That they behold, and see not what they fee?
They know what beauty is, fee where it lies;
Yet what the best is, take the worst to be.
If eyes corrupt by over-partial looks,
Be anchor'd in the bay where all men ride ;
Why of eyes falfhood haft thou forged hooks,
Whereto the judgment of my heart is tyd ?
Why should my heart think that a several plot,
Which my heart knows the wide world's common
Or mine eyes feeing this, say this is not [place?
To put fair truth upon fo feul'a face ;
In things right true niy heart and eyes have err'd,
And to this falíe plague are they now transferr’d.
O! call not me to justify the wrong,
That thy ur.kindness lays upon my heart ;
Wound me not with thine eye, but with thy tongue;
Use power with power, and nay me not by art:
Tell me thou lov'ft elsewhere; but in my fighty.
Dear heart forbear to glance thine eye aside ;.
What needst thou wound with cunning, when thy
Is more than my o'er-prest defence can bide? [mighe
Let me excuse thee ; ah ! my love well knows,
Her pretty looks have been my enemies,
And therefore from
face fhe turns my foes. That they elsewhere might dart their injuries.
Yet do not so, but since I am near lain,
Kill me out right with looks, and rid my pain:
Be wise as chou art cruel, do not press
My tongue-ty'd patience with too much disdain :
Left forrow lend me words, and words express
The manner of thy pity-wanting pain.
If I might teach you wit, better it were,
Tho' not to love yet love to tell me fo:
As testy fick men, when their deaths be near,
No news but health from their physicians know..
For if I should despair, I should grow mad;
And in my madnefs might speak ill of thee ;
Now this ill wresting world is grown fo bad,
Mad llanderers by mad ears believed be.
That I may not be so, nor thou bely’d,
Bear thine eyes ftrait, tho' thy proud heart go wide.
In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note ;
But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who in despite of view is pleas'd to doao.
Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delighted;
Nor tender feeling to bale touches prone,
Nor tafte, nor smell defire to be invited
To any sensual fealt with thee alone:
my five wits, nor my five senses can
Diffuade one foolish heart from serving thee;
Who lives unsway'd the likeness of a man,
Thy proud heart's flave and vassal wretch to be :-
Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
That she that makes me sin, rewards my pain. -
Love is my fin, and my dear virtue hate ;
Hate of fin, grounded on a sinful loving :
O! but with mine, compare thou thine own state,
And thou shalt find it merits not reproving :
Or if it do, not from those lips of thine,
That have profan'd their scarlet ornaments,
And seal'a falle bonds of love as oft as mine,
Robb’d others beds revenues of their rents.
Be it lawful, I love thee, as thou lov'st those,
Whom thine eyes woo, as mine in portune thee;
Root pity in thy heart, that when it grows,
Thy pity may deserve to pity'd be.
If thou doft seek to have what thou dost hide
By self example may'st thou be deny'd !
Lo! as a careful housewife runs to catch
One of her feather'd creatures broke away;
Sets down her babe, and makes ail swift dispatch,
In pursuit of the thing the would have stay :
Whilst her neglected child holds her in chafe,
Cries to catch her, whose busy care is bent