Then thus thy leaves we justly may commend, The bravest heroes, for their country's good, Which casts at Portescue's, and all the board Some leaves may paste strings there in other books, But hardly much; and yet I think this true. The healths, which my brain bears, must be far less : And, rather than read all, I would read none. I. D SONNET. THE TOKEN. SEND me some tokens, that my hope may live, No, nor the corals, which thy wrist enfold, To show our thoughts should rest in the same hold; No, nor thy picture, though most gracious, Within the writings, which thou hast address'd. Send me nor this, nor that, t' increase my score; But swear thou think'st I love thee, and no more. |