VANITAS VANITATUM

N loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn,

IN

But thou art twice forsworn, to me love

swearing,

In act thy bed-vow broke and new faith torn
In vowing new hate after new love bearing.

But why of two oaths' breach do I accuse thee,
When I break twenty? I am perjured most;
For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee,
And all my honest faith in thee is lost,

For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness,
Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy,

And, to enlighten thee, gave eyes to blindness,
Or made them swear against the thing they see ;

For I have sworn thee fair; more perjured I,
To swear against the truth so foul a lie!

YOUTH AND AGE

CRABBED Age and Youth cannot live together:

Youth is full of pleasance, age is full of care; Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather; Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare.

Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short;

Youth is nimble, age is lame;

Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold;
Youth is wild, and age is tame.

Age, I do abhor thee; Youth, I do adore thee;

O, my Love, my Love is young!

Age, I do defy thee: O, sweet shepherd, hie thee, For methinks thou stay'st too long.

FAIR AND FALSE

AIR is my Love, but not so fair as fickle ;

FAIR

Mild as a dove, but neither true nor trusty; Brighter than glass, and yet, as glass is, brittle; Softer than wax, and yet, as iron, rusty :

A lily pale, with damask dye to grace her,
None fairer, nor none falser to deface her.

Her lips to mine how often hath she join'd,
Between each kiss her oaths of true love swearing!
How many tales to please me hath she coin'd,
Dreading my love, the loss thereof still fearing!
Yet in the midst of all her pure protestings,
Her faith, her oaths, her tears, and all were
jestings.

She burn'd with love, as straw with fire flameth; She burn'd out love, as soon as straw out-burneth; She framed the love, and yet she foil'd the framing; She bade love last, and yet she fell a-turning.

Was this a lover, or a lecher whether?

Bad in the best, though excellent in neither.

TO-MORROW

LORD, how mine eyes throw gazes to the east !

My heart doth charge the watch; the morning rise

Doth cite each moving sense from idle rest.

Not daring trust the office of mine eyes,

While Philomela sits and sings, I sit and mark,

And wish her lays were tunéd like the lark;

For she doth welcome daylight with her ditty,
And drives away dark dismal-dreaming night :
The night so pack'd, I post unto my pretty;
Heart hath his hope, and eyes their wished sight;
Sorrow changed to solace, solace mix'd with

sorrow;

For why, she sigh'd, and bade me come to

morrow.

Were I with her, the night would post too soon ;
But now are minutes added to the hours;
To spite me now, each minute seems a moon ;
Yet not for me, shine sun to succour flowers!

Pack night, peep day; good day, of night now borrow :

Short, night, to-night, and length thyself to

morrow.