THE WORLD'S WAY TIRED with all these, for restful death I cry,— And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity, And gilded honour shamefully misplaced, And art made tongue-tied by authority, And captive Good attending captain Ill: -Tired with all these, from these would I be gone, Save that, to die, I leave my Love alone. THE ONE AND ONLY AH! wherefore with infection should he live, That sin by him advantage should achieve Why should false painting imitate his cheek And steal dead seeing of his living hue? Why should he live, now Nature bankrupt is, Beggar'd of blood to blush through lively veins ? For she hath no exchequer now but his, And, proud of many, lives upon his gains. O! him she stores, to show what wealth she had In days long since, before these last so bad. AGE UNSHAMED THUS is his cheek the map of days outworn, When beauty lived and died as flowers do now, Before these bastard signs of fair were born, Before the golden tresses of the dead, Ere beauty's dead fleece made another gay : In him those holy antique hours are seen, And him as for a map doth Nature store, MEDIO DE FONTE THOSE parts of thee that the world's eye doth view Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend; All tongues, the voice of souls, give thee that due, Uttering bare truth, even so as foes commend. Thy outward thus with outward praise is crown'd; But those same tongues that give thee so thine own In other accents do this praise confound By seeing farther than the eye hath shown. They look into the beauty of thy mind, And that, in guess, they measure by thy deeds ; Then, churls, their thoughts, although their eyes were kind, To thy fair flower add the rank smell of weeds : But why thy odour matcheth not thy show, INEVITABLE SLANDER THAT thou art blamed shall not be thy defect, For slander's mark was ever yet the fair; The ornament of beauty is suspect, A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air. So thou be good, slander doth but approve Thou hast pass'd by the ambush of young days If some suspect of ill mask'd not thy show, owe. |