The loves and heroines of the poets . 114 LOVES AND HEROINES. Tis no sin loves fruit to steal,But the sweet theft to reveal:To be taken, to he have crimes accounted been. TO TUE SAME. Kiss me, sweet: the wary lover Can your favours keep, and cover, When the common courting jay All your bounties will betray. Kiss again ! no creature comes; Kiss, and score up wealthy sums On my lips, thus hardly sundered, While you breathe. First give a hundred, Then a thousand, then another Hundred, then unto the other Add a thousand, and so more; Till you eqvuil with the store. All the grass that Rn
The loves and heroines of the poets . 114 LOVES AND HEROINES. Tis no sin loves fruit to steal,But the sweet theft to reveal:To be taken, to he have crimes accounted been. TO TUE SAME. Kiss me, sweet: the wary lover Can your favours keep, and cover, When the common courting jay All your bounties will betray. Kiss again ! no creature comes; Kiss, and score up wealthy sums On my lips, thus hardly sundered, While you breathe. First give a hundred, Then a thousand, then another Hundred, then unto the other Add a thousand, and so more; Till you eqvuil with the store. All the grass that Rnnmey yields. Or the sands in Chelsea fields, Or the drops in silver Thames, Or the stars that gild his streams, In the silent summers-nights, When youths ply their stolen delights ; That the curious may not know How to tell em as they flow, And the envious, when they find What their number is, be pined. TO CELIA. Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And Ill not look for BEN JONSON. 115 The thirst that from the suul doth rise. Doth ask a drink divine:But might I of Joves nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee Lite a rosy wreath, Not 80 much honouring thee,As giving it a hope that there It could not withered thou thereon didst only breathe, And sent st it back to nie;Since when it grows, and smells, 1 swear, Not of itself, but thee. [Underwoodxr l(i40.]A CELEBRATION OF CHABIS. mS EXCUSE FOB LOVING. Let it not your wonder move,Less your laughter, that 1 I now write fifty years,I have had, and have my peers;Poets, though divine, are men :Some have loved as old it is not always , or fortune gives the grace ;Or the feature, or the youth ;But the language, and the truth,With the ardour, and the passion,Gives the lover weight and you then will read the , prepare you to be sorry,Tliat you never knew till now,Either whom to love, or how : 116 LOVE
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1860, booksubjectlovepoetry, bookyear1
