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One on another's neck do witnefs bear:
Thy black is fairest in my judgment's place.

In nothing art thou black, fave in thy deeds,
And thence this flander, as I think, proceeds.

Thine eyes I love, and they as pitying me,
Knowing thy heart torments me with difdain,
Have put on black, and loving mourners be,
Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
And truly not the morning-fun of heaven
Better becomes the grey cheeks of the eaft;
Nor that full ftar that uthers in the even,
Doth half that glory to the fober welt,
As those two mourning eyes become thy face:
Oh let it then as well befeem thy heart

To mourn for me, fince mourning doth thee grace,
And fute thy pity like in every part.

Then will I fwear beauty herself is black,
And all they foul that thy complection lack.

Unkind Abufe.

Befhrew that heart that makes my heart to groan,
For that deep wound it gives my friend and me;
Is't not enough to torture me alone,

But flave to flavery my fweetett friend muft be?
Me from myfelf thy cruel eye hath taken,
And my next felf thou harder haft engross'd;
Of him, myfelf, and thee I am forfaken,
A torment thrice three-fold thus to be cross'd.
Prifon my heart in thy fteel bofom's ward,
But then my friend's heart let my poor heart bail;
Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard,
Thou canst not then ufe rigour in my jail.

And yet thou wilt, for I being pent in thee,
Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.

So now I have confeft that he is thine,
And I myself am mortgag'd to thy will;
Myfelf I'll forfeit, fo that other mine.
Thou wilt reftore to me, my comfort ftill.
But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free,
For thou art covetous, and he is kind;
He learn'd, but furety-like to write for me,
Under that bond that him as faft doth bind.
The ftatute of thy beauty thou wilt take,
Thou ufurer, that put'it forth all to use;
And fue a friend, came debtor for my fake,
So him I lose thro'
my unkind abuse.

Him have I loft,

thou haft both him and me;. He pays the whole, and yet I am not free.

Love Suit:

Whoever hath her with, thou haft thy Will,
And Will to boot, and Will in overplus ;
More than enough am I that vex thee ftill,
To thy fweet will making addition thus.
Wilt thou, whofe will is large and spacious,
Not once vouchfafe to hide my will in thine?
Shall will in others feem right gracious,
And in my will no fair acceptance shine ?
The fea all water, yet receives rain ftill,
And in abundance addeth to his store;
So thou being rich in Will, add to thy Will
One will of mine, to make thy large Will more. -
Let no unkind, no fair befeechers kill,

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Think all but one, and me in that one Will.

If thy foul check thee that I come so near,
Swear to thy blind foul that I was thy Will;
And will, thy foul knows, is admitted there;
Thus far for love, my love-fuit fweet fulfil.
Will will fulfil the treasure of thy love,
I fill it full with wills, and my will one:
In things of great receipt with ease we prove,.
Among a number one is reckon'd none.
Then in the number let me pass untold,
Tho' in thy store's account I one must be :-
For nothing hold me, fo it please thee hold
That nothing me, a fomething fweet to thee.

Make but my name thy love, and love that ftill
And then thou lov't me, for my name is Will..

His Heart wounded by her Eye.

Thou blind fool, love, what doft thou to mine eyes,
That they behold, and fee not what they see?
They know what beauty is, fee where it lies;
Yet what the beft is, take the worft to be.
If eyes corrupt by over-partial looks,
Be anchor'd in the bay where all men ride;
Why of eyes falfhood haft thou forged hooks,.
Whereto the judgment of my heart is ty'd?
Why fhould my heart think that a several plot,
Which my heart knows the wide world's common
Or mine eyes feeing this, fay this is not [place?
To put
fair truth upon fo foul a face;

In things right true my heart and eyes have err'd,
And to this falíe plague are they now transferr'd.

O call not me to juftify the wrong,

That thy unkindnefs lays upon my heart;

Wound me not with thine eye, but with thy tongue;
Use power with power, and slay me not by art:
Tell me thou lov'ft elsewhere; but in my fight,.
Dear heart forbear to glance thine eye afide ;.
What need'ft thou wound with cunning, when thy
Is more than my o'er-preft defence can bide? [might.
Let me excufe thee; ah! my love well knows,
Her pretty looks have been my enemies,
And therefore from my face the turns my foes.
That they elsewhere might dart their injuries.
Yet do not fo, but fince I am near flain,

Kill me out right with looks, and rid my pain:

Be wife as thou art cruel, do not prefs
My tongue-ty'd patience with too much difdain::
Left forrow lend me words, and words exprefs
The manner of thy pity-wanting pain.
If I might teach you wit, better it were,
Tho' not to love yet love to tell me fo:
As tefty fick men, when their deaths be near,
No news but health from their physicians know..
For if I fhould defpair, I fhould grow mad,
And in my madnefs might fpeak ill of thee ;
Now this ill wrefting world is grown fo bad,
Mad flanderers by mad ears believed be.

That I may not be fo, nor thou bely'd,
Bear thine eyes ftrait, tho' thy proud heart go wide.

A Proteftation.

In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But 'tis my heart that leves what they defpife,
Who in defpite of view is pleas'd to doat.

Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delightedj-
Nor tender feeling to bafe touches prone,

Nor taste, nor fmell defire to be invited
To any fenfual feast with thee alone:
But my five wits, nor my five fenfes can
Diffuade one foolish heart from ferving thee;
Who lives unfway'd the likeness of a man,
Thy proud heart's flave and vaffal wretch to be:
Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
That the that makes me fin, rewards my pain..

Love is my fin, and my dear virtue hate;
Hate of fin, grounded on a finful loving:
O! but with mine, compare thou thine own ftate,
And thou shalt find it merits not reproving:
Or if it dọ, not from thofe lips of thine,
That have profan'd their fearlet ornaments,
And feal'd falfe bonds of love as oft as mine,
Robb'd others beds revenues of their rents.
Be it lawful, I love thee, as thou lov'ft thofe,
Whom thine eyes woo, as mine importune thee;
Root pity in thy heart, that when it grows,
Thy pity may deserve to pity'd be.

If thou doft feek to have what thou dost hide,
By felf example may'ft thou be deny'd!

An Allufion.

Lo! as a careful housewife runs to catch
One of her feather'd creatures broke away;
Sets down her babe, and makes all fwift difpatchy
In pursuit of the thing the would have stay :
Whilft her neglected child holds her in chafe,
Cries to catch her, whose busy care is bent

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