ALL THINGS IN LOVE Some glory in their birth, some in their skill, And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure, But these particulars are not my measure; Thy love is better than high birth to me, Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take THE SOURCE OF LIFE But do thy worst to steal thyself away, Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs, Than that which on thy humour doth depend; Thou canst not vex me with inconstant mind, But what's so blesséd-fair that fears no blot? TRUST AND MISTRUST So shall I live, supposing thou art true, For there can live no hatred in thine eye, Is writ in moods and frowns and wrinkles strange; But heaven in thy creation did decree That in thy face sweet love should ever dwell; How like Eve's apple doth thy beauty grow, THE LIFE WITHOUT PASSION They that have power to hurt and will do none, They rightly do inherit heaven's graces The summer's flower is to the summer sweet, But if that flower with base infection meet, For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds. THE VIRTUE OF BEAUTY How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame That tongue that tells the story of thy days, O, what a mansion have those vices got Take heed, dear heart, of this large privilege; |