Will, when speaking well can't win her, Saying nothing do't?

Prythee, why so mute?

Quit, quit, for shame! this will not move,

This cannot take her;

If of herself she will not love,

Nothing can make her :

The Devil take her !-Sir J. Suckling.

CLXXVIII.

ON A GIRDLE.

THAT which her slender waist confined
Shall now my joyful temples bind;
No monarch but would give his crown
His arms might do what this has done!
It was my heaven's extremest sphere,
The pale which held that lovely deer:
My joy, my grief, my hope, my love,
Did all within this circle move.

A narrow compass, and yet there
Dwelt all that's good and all that's fair;
Give me but what this ribband bound,
Take all the rest the sun goes round.

E. Waller.

CLXXIX.

CHLORIS.

CHLORIS! if ere May be done

You but offer to be gone,

Flowers will wither, green will fade,

Nothing fresh nor gay be had.

Farewell pleasure! farewell Spring!
Farewell every sweeter thing!
The Year will pine away and mourn,
And Winter instantly return.

But if you vouchsafe to stay
Only till the end of May,
Take it upon Flora's word,
Never sweeter Spring was tow'rd,
Never was Favonian wind
More propitiously inclined,

Never was in heaven nor earth
Promised more profuser mirth.

Such sweet force your presence has
To bring joy to every place;
Such a virtue has your sight,
All are cheered and gladded by't;
Such a freshness as does bring
Along with it perpetual Spring;

Such a gaiety the while,

As makes both heaven and earth to smile.

Richard Flecknoe.

CLXXX.

AGAINST THEM WHO LAY

UNCHASTITY TO THE SEX OF
WOMEN.

THEY meet but with unwholesome springs,
And summers which infectious are;
They hear but when the mermaid sings,
And only see the falling star,

Who ever dare

Affirm no woman chaste and fair.

Go, cure your fevers; and you'll say
The dog-days scorch not all the year;
In copper mines no longer stay,
But travel to the west, and there
The right ones see,

And grant all gold's not alchemy.

What madman, 'cause the glow-worm's flame
Is cold, swears there's no warmth in fire?
'Cause some make forfeit of their name,
And slave themselves to man's desire,
Shall the sex, free

From guilt, damn'd to the bondage be?

Nor grieve, Castara, though 'twere frail;
Thy virtue then would brighter shine,
When thy example should prevail,
And every woman's faith be thine :
And were there none,

'Tis majesty to rule alone.—IV. Habington.

CLXXXI.

A LOVER'S PROBLEM.

I PRYTHEE send me back my heart,
Since I cannot have thine:

For if from yours you will not part,
Why then shouldst thou have mine?

Yet now I think on't, let it lie,
To find it were in vain,
For th' hast a thief in either eye
Would steal it back again.

Why should two hearts in one breast lie
And yet not lodge together?

O love, where is thy sympathy,
If thus our breasts thou sever?

But love is such a mystery,

I cannot find it out:

For when I think I'm best resolv'd,
I then am most in doubt.

Then farewell care, and farewell woe,

I will no longer pine:

For I'll believe I have her heart,

As much as she hath mine.

Sir John Suckling.

CLXXXII.

TO ALTHEA FROM PRISON.

WHEN Love with unconfined wings

Hovers within my gates,

And my divine Althea brings

To whisper at the grates :
When I lie tangled in her hair,
And fetter'd to her eye;

The birds that wanton in the air,
Know no such liberty.

When flowing cups run swiftly round
With no allaying Thames,

Our careless heads with roses bound,
Our hearts with loyal flames;
When thirsty grief in wine we steep,
When healths and draughts go free,

Fishes that tipple in the deep,

Know no such liberty.

When (like committed linnets) I

With shriller throat shall sing

The sweetness, mercy, majesty,
And glories of my King;

When I shall voice aloud, how good
He is, how great should be;
Enlarged winds that curl the flood,
Know no such liberty.

Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take
That for an hermitage;

If I have freedom in my love,
And in my soul am free,
Angels alone that soar above,

Enjoy such liberty.-Colonel Lovelace.

CLXXXIII.

TO HIS LOVE.

My dear and only Love! I

pray

That little world of thee
Be govern'd by no other sway
Than purest monarchy:
For if confusion have a part,
Which virtuous souls abhor,
And hold a synod in thy heart,
I'll never love thee more.

As Alexander I will reign,
And I will reign alone :
My thoughts did evermore disdain
A rival on my throne.

He either fears his fate too much,
Or his deserts are small,

That dares not put it to the touch
To gain or lose it all.