But thou, which lov'st to be

Subtle to plague thyself, wilt say

"Alas! if you must go, what's that to me?
Here lies my business, and here will I stay:
You go to friends, whose love and means present
Various content

To your eyes, ears, and taste, and every part:
If then your body go, what need your heart?

Well, then, stay here: but know

When thou hast said and done thy most,

A naked thinking heart, that makes no show,
Is to a woman but a kind of ghost;

How shall she know my heart? Or, having none,
Know thee for one?

Practice may make her know some other part,
But take my word, she doth not know a heart.

Meet me in London, then,

Twenty days hence, and thou shalt see

Me fresher and more fat, by being with men,
Than if I had stay'd still with her and thee.
For God's sake, if you can, be you so too:
I will give you

There to another friend, whom you shall find
As glad to have my body as my mind.

175

THE GOOD MORROW

I WONDER, by my troth, what thou and I

Did, till we loved? were we not weaned till then?
But sucked on country pleasures, childishly?

Or snored we in the Seven Sleepers' den?

'Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be;

If ever any beauty I did see.

Which I desired, and got, 'twas but a dream of thee.

And now good-morrow to our waking souls,

Which watch not one another out of fear;

For love all love of other sights controls,
And makes one little room an everywhere.
Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone;
Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown,
Let us possess one world; each hath one, and is one.

My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,
And true plain hearts do in the faces rest;
Where can we find two better hemispheres
Without sharp north, without declining west?
Whatever dies, was not mixed equally;
If our two loves be one, or thou and I

Love so alike that none can slacken, none can die.

176

PRESENT IN ABSENCE

ABSENCE, hear thou my protestation

Against thy strength,

Distance, and length;

Do what thou canst for alteration:

For hearts of truest mettle

Absence doth join, and Time doth settle.

Who loves a mistress of such quality,
His mind hath found
Affection's ground

Beyond time, place, and all mortality.
To hearts that cannot vary

Absence is present, Time doth tarry.

By absence this good means I gain,
That I can catch her,

Where none can watch her,
In some close corner of my brain:
There I embrace and kiss her;
And so enjoy her and none miss her.

(K) HC XL

177

JOSHUA SYLVESTER
[1563-1618]

LOVE'S OMNIPRESENCE

WERE I as base as is the lowly plain,

And you, my Love, as high as heaven above,
Yet should the thoughts of me your humble swain
Ascend to heaven, in honour of my Love.

Were I as high as heaven above the plain,
And you, my Love, as humble and as low
As are the deepest bottoms of the main,
Whereso'er you were, with you my love should go.

Were you the earth, dear Love, and I the skies,
My love should shine on you like to the sun,
And look upon you with ten thousand eyes

Till heaven wax'd blind, and till the world were done.

Whereso'er I am, below, or else above you,
Whereso'er you are, my heart shall truly love you.

178

WILLIAM ALEXANDER, EARL OF STIRLING

[1567 (?)-1640]

TO AURORA

O IF thou knew'st how thou thyself dost harm,
And dost prejudge thy bliss, and spoil my rest;
Then thou would'st melt the ice out of thy breast
And thy relenting heart would kindly warm.

O if thy pride did not our joys controul,

What world of loving wonders should'st thou see!
For if I saw thee once transform'd in me,
Then in thy bosom I would pour my soul;

179

Then all my thoughts should in thy visage shine,
And if that aught mischanced thou should'st not moan
Nor bear the burthen of thy griefs alone;

No, I would have my share in what were thine:

And whilst we thus should make our sorrows one,
This happy harmony would make them none.

RICHARD CORBET

[1582-1635]

FAREWELL, REWARDS AND FAIRIES

FAREWELL, rewards and fairies,

Good housewives now may say,
For now foul sluts in dairies
Do fare as well as they.

And though they sweep their hearths no less
Than maids were wont to do,

Yet who of late for cleanless

Finds sixpence in her shoe?

Lament, lament, old Abbeys,

The Fairies' lost command!
They did but change Priests' babies,
But some have changed your land.
And all your children, sprung from thence,
Are now grown Puritans,

Who live as Changelings ever since

For love of your demains.

At morning and at evening both
You merry were and glad,

So little care of sleep or sloth
These pretty ladies had;

When Tom came home from labour,

Or Cis to milking rose,

Then merrily went their tabor,

And nimbly went their toes.

Witness those rings and roundelays
Of theirs, which yet remain,
Were footed in Queen Mary's days
On many a grassy plain;
But since of late, Elizabeth,
And later, James came in,
They never danced on any heath
As when the time hath been.

By which we note the Fairies
Were of the old Profession.
Their songs were 'Ave Mary's',
Their dances were Procession.
But now, alas, they all are dead;
Or gone beyond the seas;
Or farther for Religion fled;
Or else they take their ease.

A tell-tale in their company
They never could endure!
And whoso kept not secretly
Their mirth, was punished, sure;
It was a just and Christian deed
To pinch such black and blue.
Oh how the commonwealth doth want
Such Justices as you!

180

THOMAS HEYWOOD

[D. 1650 (?)]

PACK, CLOUDS, AWAY

PACK, clouds, away, and welcome day,
With night we banish sorrow;
Sweet air, blow soft, mount, larks, aloft
To give my Love good-morrow!

Wings from the wind to please her mind,

Notes from the lark I'll borrow;