ALL THINGS IN LOVE

Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,
Some in their wealth, some in their bodies' force,
Some in their garments, though new-fangled ill,
Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse

And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure,
Wherein it finds a joy above the rest :

But these particulars are not my measure;
All these I better in one general best..

Thy love is better than high birth to me,
Richer than wealth, prouder than garments' cost,
Of more delight than hawks or horses be;
And having thee, of all men's pride I boast :

Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take
All this away and me most wretched make.

THE SOURCE OF LIFE

But do thy worst to steal thyself away,
For term of life thou art assuréd mine,
And life no longer than thy love will stay,
For it depends upon that love of thine.

Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs,
When in the least of them my life hath end.
I see a better state to me belongs

Than that which on thy humour doth depend;

Thou canst not vex me with inconstant mind,
Since that my life on thy revolt doth lie.
- what a happy title do I find,
Happy to have thy love, happy to die!

But what's so blesséd-fair that fears no blot?
Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.

TRUST AND MISTRUST

So shall I live, supposing thou art true,
Like a deceivéd husband; so love's face
May still seem love to me, though alter'd new ;
Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place :

For there can live no hatred in thine eye,
Therefore in that I cannot know thy change.
In many's looks the false heart's history

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;
Whate'er thy thoughts or thy heart's workings be
Thy looks should nothing thence but sweetness tell.

How like Eve's apple doth thy beauty grow,
If thy sweet virtue answer not thy show!

THE LIFE WITHOUT PASSION

They that have power to hurt and will do none,
That do not do the thing they most do show,
Who, moving others, are themselves as stone,
Unmovéd, cold, and to temptation slow,——

They rightly do inherit heaven's graces
And husband nature's riches from expense;
They are the lords and owners of their faces,
Others but stewards of their excellence.

The summer's flower is to the summer sweet,
Though to itself it only live and die :

But if that flower with base infection meet,
The basest weed outbraves his dignity :

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
Which, like a canker in the fragrant rose,
Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name!
O, in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose!

That tongue that tells the story of thy days,
Making lascivious comments on thy sport,
Cannot dispraise but in a kind of praise;
Naming thy name blesses an ill report.

O, what a mansion have those vices got
Which for their habitation chose out thee,
Where beauty's veil doth cover every blot,
And all things turn to fair that eyes can see!

Take heed, dear heart, of this large privilege;
The hardest knife ill-used doth lose his edge.