They heare but when the mermaid sings,

And onely see the falling starre,

Who ever dare,

Affirme no woman chaste and faire.

Goe cure your fevers; and you'll say
The dog-dayes scorch not all the yeare;

In copper mines no longer stay,

But travell to the West, and there

The right ones see,

And grant all gold's not alchemie.

What madman, 'cause the glow-worme's flame
Is cold, sweares 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 fraile ;
Thy vertue then would brighter shine,
When thy example should prevaile,
And every woman's faith be thine:
And were there none,

'Tis majesty to rule alone.

W. HABINGTON.

LXXIX

CASTARA

LIKE the violet which alone

Prospers in some happy shade;
My Castara lives unknown,
To no looser eye betray'd.

For she's to herself untrue,

Who delights i' the public view.

Such is her beauty, as no arts

Have enriched with borrowed grace;

Her high birth no pride imparts,

For she blushes in her place.

Folly boasts a glorious blood,
She is noblest, being good.

She her throne makes reason climbe,
While wild passions captive lie,

And each article of time

Her pure thoughts to heaven fly:
All her vowes religious be,
And her love she vowes to me.

W. HABINGTON.

LXXX

THE NIGHT-PIECE TO JULIA

HER eyes the glow-worme lend thee,
The shooting starres attend thee;
And the elves also,

Whose little eyes glow,

Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee.

No Will-o'-th'-Wispe mislight thee;

Nor snake, or slow-worme bite thee :
But on, on thy way,

Not making a stay,

Since ghost there's none t' affright thee.

Let not the darke thee cumber;

What though the moon does slumber?

The starres of the night

Will lend thee their light

Like tapers cleare without number.

Then Julia let me woo thee,
Thus, thus to come unto me;
And when I shall meet

Thy silv'ry feet,

My soul I'll poure into thee.

R. HERRICK.

LXXXI

THE POWER OF LOVE

THERE are two births, the one when light
First strikes the new awaken'd sense;

The other when two souls unite,

And we must count our life from thence:

When you lov'd me and I lov'd you,
Then both of us were born anew.

Love then to us did new souls give,

And in those souls did plant new powers; Since when another life we live,

The breath we breathe is his not ours: Love makes those young, whom age doth chill, And whom he finds young, keeps young still.

W. CARTWRIGHT.

LXXXII

TO HIS COY MISTRESS

HAD we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime,
We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass one long, love's day.

Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Should'st rubies find; I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews;
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires and more slow;
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;

An age at least to every part,

And the last age should show your heart.

For, lady, you deserve this state,

Nor would I love at lower rate.

But at my back I always hear
Time's winged chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.

Thy beauty shall no more be found,

Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound

My echoing song: then worms shall try
That long preserv'd virginity;

And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust :

The grave's a fine and private place,

But none, I think, do there embrace.