Classic Poem

1.

Deare eyes farewell, my Sunne once, now my end,
While your kinde willing grace I felt, all joy
In soule I knew withdrawne, you now destroy
The house that being gave to loves best friend.

You now alas to other objects bend
That warmth of blisse which best delights enjoy,
Striving to win an oft won idle toy,
By falshood nurs'd, such creatures seldome mend.

Try your new loves, affect the choyce of store,
And be assur'd they likewise will choose more,
Which I yet grieve; for though the losse I beare

I would have none with you to challenge right;
But beare you must for making choyce so light:
Yet still your beames Ile love, shine you elsewhere.

2.

O deadly rancour to a constant heart,
Frownes, and neglect, my only favours be:
Sometimes a cold respect is granted me;
But hot flames to those eyes joy in my smart.

Once yet for Justice sake weigh my hard part,
In gratefulnesse I should kinde usage see;
For being tied alone to you, els free,
Till by your wrongs now joynd with heart-broke smart.

A glorious triumph you no doubt shall have,
To crowne your victory on murders grave,
While falshood beares the armes my life hath won.

I onely twise seaven yeares love shall gaine
Change, worse then absence, or death's cruelst paine:
The last yet got, you have your labour done.

3.

A surgeon I would aske, but 'tis too late,
To stay the bleeding wound of my hurt heart:
The roote is toucht, and the last drops depart
As weeping for succeeding others fate.

Alas that my kild heart should waile my state,
Or leisure have to thinke on ought but smart,
Nor doth it, but with pitie beare a part,
With her embrac'd yours like a loving mate.

But now unmarried by a new disdaine
Cold death must take the body from her love
And thou poore heart must end for my unworth.

Conscience is lost, and outward fairenes gaines
The place where worth did, or else seemd to move,
Thus world like change new triall still brings forth.

4.

O Memorie, could I but loose thee now,
At least learne to forget as I did move
My best, and onely thoughts to waite on love,
And be as Registers of my made vow.

Could I but let my mind to reason bow,
Or see plaine wrongs, neglects, and slightings prove
In that deare Sphear, which as the Heavens above
I prizd, and homage to it did allow.

Canst thou not turne as well a Traitor too
Since Heaven-like powers teach thee what to doo?
Canst not thou quite forget thy pleasures past;

Those blessed houres, the onely time of blisse,
When we feard nothing but we time might misse
Long enough to enjoy what's now off cast.

5.

Leave me vaine Hope, too long thou hast possest
My mind, made subject to thy flattring skill,
While Aprill mornings did my pleasures fill,
But cloudy dayes soone changd me from that rest;

And weeping afternoones to me adrest,
My utter ruine framd by Fortunes will,
When knowledge said Hope did but breed, and kill,
Producing only shadowes at the best.

Yet Hope tis true, thy faults did faire appeare
And therefore loth to thinke thou counseldst me
Or wilfully thy errors would not see
But catch at Sunne moates which I held most deare

Till now alas with true felt losse I know,
Thy selfe a Bubble each faire face can blow.

6.

Though you forsake me, yet alas permit
I may have sorrow, for my poysn'd crosse;
Thinke not, though dead, to joy I cannot hit
Upon a torture, for my soule-pierc'd losse.

Or if by chance I smile, I hopes ingrosse,
Nor for I die not, I doe bliss admit,
Most griefe will oft give leave for show to toss
Upon the waves, where Shipwrack'd comfort split.

Thinke then your will, and left, leave me yet more:
Vexe not my loathed life, to ruine bent;
Be satisfied with glut of your bad change:

Lay me unthought on, in the love-kill'd store,
My griefe's my owne, or since for you 'tis sent,
Let me have that part from you while you range.

7.

Some doe, perhaps, both wrong my love, and care,
Taxing me with mistrust, and Jelousie,
From both which sinnes in love like freedome, free
I live, these slanders but new raised are.

What though from griefe, my soule I doe not spare,
When I perceive neglect's slight face on me?
While unto some the loving smiles I see,
I am not Jealous, they so well doe fare.

But doubt my selfe lest I lesse worthy am,
Or that it was but flashes, no true flame,
Dazl'd my eyes, and so my humour fed.

If this be jealousie, then doe I yeeld,
And doe confesse I thus goe arm'd to field,
For by such Jealousie my love is led.

From a long way, and Pilgrimage for Love,
I am return'd weary'd with Travels paine,
Not finding ease, or those vexations moove;
First, to my soule they are, where to remaine
They vow to setle; then alas, can I
Thinke of a rest, but travell till I die.

Did I boast of liberty?
'Twas an insolency vaine:
I doe onely looke on thee,
And I captive am againe.

Love farewell I now discover
Thee a Tyrant o're a lover,
All thy promis'd sweets prove crosses,
Thy rewards are only losses.

A pritty thing I did deeme thee,
Innocent, and mild esteeme thee,
But I find thee as curst matter
As a swelling high wrought water.

Cupids name a pleasant folly
Hath beguiled hearts most holly,
Even to sacrifize in homage,
Life and soule unto their domage.

Mine an offering once I profferd,
Happily refusd when offerd,
Ile keepe now but to revile thee,
From the craft which did beguile me.

Faithfull lovers keepe from hence
None but false ones here can enter:
This conclusion hath from whence
Falsehood flowes, and such may venter.
Egypts Pyramids inclose their Kings,
But this farr braver, nobler things;
Vertue, Beauty, Love, Faith, all heere lye
Kept in Myras Tombe, shut from eye:
The Phoenix dyes to raise another faire,
Borne of her ashes, to be heire;
So this sweete Place may claime that right in woe,
Since heere she lyes, Heaven willing so.

If a cleere fountaine still keeping a sad course,
Weepe out her sorrowes in drops, which like teares fall;
Marvell not if I lament my misfortune,
Brought to the same call.

Who thought such faire eyes could shine, and dissemble?
Who thought such sweete breath could poyson loves shame?
Who thought those chast eares could so be defiled?
Hers be the sole blame.
While love deserv'd love, of mine still she fail'd not,
Foole I to love still where mine was neglected,
Yet faith, and honor, both of me claim'd it,
Although rejected.
Oft have I heard her vow, never sweete quiet
Could once possesse her while that I was else where,
But words were breath then, and as breath they wasted
Into a lost Ayre.
So soone is love lost, not in heart imprinted,
Silly I, knew not the false power of changing,
Love I expected, yet (ah) was deceived,
More her fond ranging.

Infant Love tyed me not to mistrust change,
Vowes kept me fearelesse, yet all those were broken:
Love, faith, and friendship by her are dissolved,
Suffer'd unspoken.

That which to some their wishes ends present,
Is counted day, which former crosses mend,
Yet night-like day my blessings do prevent,
And brings that losse, whereto my mischeifs tend.

By dayes approach, alasse, that light doth end,
Which is the only light of my content,
And more I see, day strive her light to lend
The darker am I, by sad parting rent.

Like one long kept in prison, brought to light;
But for his end, condemned nere to bee
Freed from his Dungeon, till that wretched hee,
Conclude his living with his latest sight.

So now with griefe, doth day appeare to mee,
And Oh! too early since we parting see. Wo.

Fond aged man, why doe you on me gaze,
Knowing my answer? resolution take;
Follow not fondly in an unusd Maze
As if impossibilities to shake.
For know I hate you still, and your poore love
Can mee as soone as Rocks to pitie move. Man.

Alas my dearest soule, too long I knew
I lov'd in vaine, your scorne I felt likewise,
Your hate I saw; yet must I still pursue
Your fairest sight, though you doe me despise;
For love is blind, and though I aged be,
I can nor part from it, nor it from me. Wo.

What blame dost thou deserve, if thou wilt still
Follow my hate, who will not breath to change,
And strive to gaine as if from scorne, or ill
Loving disdaine as Juels rich, and strang:
Or canst thou vainely hope thy wailing cries
Can move a pitty? no let this suffice. Man.

Pitie, alas I nere could looke to see
So much good hap; yet Deere be not too cruell,
Though you thus young hate aged love in me,
My love hath youth, or you shall see loves fuell
Deserving your reward, then not denie,
Let me now see those eyes kind, or I die. Wo.

These eyes of mine thou never shalt behold,
If clouds of true disdaine may dim desire,
They shall as blacke be as thy faults are bold,
Demanding what's unfit; a poore old fire
Wasted like Triumphs, sparcles onely live,
And troubled rise from embers which outlive. Man.

I doe confesse a boldnesse tis in me
Ought to resist, if your sweet selfe command;
Yet blind me needs you must, for if I see,
Mine eyes must rest on you, and gazing stand:
Heaven not forbids the bacest worme her way,
Hide that deare beauty, I must needs decay. Wo.

My beauty I will hide, mine eyes put out,
Rather then be perplexed with thy sight,
A mischiefe certaine worse is, then a doubt,
Such is thy sight, thy absence my delight;
Yet mine the ill, since now with thee I stay.
Tyred with all misfortune cannot stray. Man.

Thy beautie hide? O no, still cruell live
To me most haplesse; dim not that bright light
Which to this Earth all lights and beauties give.
Let me not cause for ever darkest night,
No, no, blessed be those eyes and fairest face,
Lights of my soule, and guides to all true grace.

My sweet commanderesse shall I yet obay
And leave you here alas unguarded? shall
I not then for sorrow ever stray
From quiet peace, or hope, and with curst thrall
Sit downe and end? yet if you say I must
Here will I bide in banishment accurst:
While you passe on be cruell, happy still
That none else triumph may upon mine ill.

1.

A sheapherd who noe care did take
Of aught butt of his flock
Whose thoughts noe pride cowld higher make
Then to maintaine his stock,
Whose sheepe his love was, and his care,
Theyr good his best delight,
The lambs his joye, theyr sport his fare,
His pleasure was theyr sight,

2.

Till love, an envier of mans blis
Did turne this merry lyfe
To teares, to wishes which ne're miss
Incombrances with strife,
For wheras hee was best content
With looking on his sheepe:
His time in woes must now bee spent,
And broken is his sleepe;

3.

Thus first his woefull chang began
A lambe hee chanc'd to miss
Which to find out about hee ran
Yett finds nott wher itt is,
Butt as hee past O! fate unkind
His ill lead him that way
Wheras a willow tree behind
A faire young mayden lay;

4.

Her bed was on the humble ground
Her hed upon her hand
While sighs did show her hart was bound
In lov's untying band,
Clear tears her cleerest eyes lett fall
Upon her love borne face
Which heavnly drops did sorrow call
Prowd wittnes of disgrace;

5.

The sheapherd stayd, and fed his eyes
Nor furder might hee pas
But ther his freedome to sight ties
His bondage his joye was.
His lambe hee deems nott haulf soe faire
Though itt were very white,
And liberty hee thinks a care
Nor breathes butt by her sight,

6.

His former lyfe is alterd quite,
His sheep feed in her eyes,
Her face his field is of delight,
And flocks hee doth dispise,
The rule of them hee leaves to none
His scrip hee threw away,
And many hee forsakes for one,
One hee must now obay:

7.

Unhapy man whose loosing found
What better had bin lost
Whose gaine doth spring from such a grownd
Wherby hee must bee crost,
The worldly care hee now neglects
For Cupids service ties
Care only to his fond respects
Wher wavelike treasure lies.

8.

As this lost man still gazing stood
Amased att such a sight
Immagining noe heavnly food
To feed on butt her sight
Wishing butt her beams to behold
Yett grievd hee for her griefe
When mournfully hee did unfolde
Her woes without reliefe.

9.

His new sun rose, and rising sayd
Farwell faire willow tree
The roote of my estate decayd
The fruit for haples mee,
What though thy branch a signe be made
Of labor lost in love?
Thy beauty doth noe sooner vade
Then those best fortunes prove;

10.

My songs shall end with willow still,
Thy branches I will weare:
Thou wilt accompany my ill,
And with mee sorrow beare,
True freind sayd she, then sigh'd, and turn'd,
Leaving that restles place,
And sheapheard who in passions burn'd
Lamenting his sad case;

11.

This mayd now gon, alone he left,
Still on her foot steps gaz'd,
And hartles growne by love bereft
Of mirth, in spiritt raysed,
To satisfy his restles thought
Hee after her will hy,
His ruin to bee sooner brought,
And sooner harme to try,

12.

Then thus his latest leave hee tooke,
My sheepe sayd hee farwell,
Lett som new sheapherd to you looke
Whose care may mine excell,
I leave you to your freedome now
Loves lawes soe fast mee bind
As noe time I can you allow;
Or goe poore flock, and find.

13.

The mayd whom I soe deerly love;
Say itt was her deere sight
Which from your keepe doth me remove,
And kills my first delight,
Goe you my dog who carefull were
To guard my sheepe from harme,
Looke to them still noe care forbear
Though love my sences charme;

14.

Butt you my pipe that musique gave,
And pleasd my silent rest
Of you I company will crave
Our states now suteth best,
For if that faire noe pitty give
My dying breath shall cry
Through thee the paines wherein I live
Wherby I breathe to dy;

15.

Madly hee ran from ease to paine
Nott sick yett far from well,
Hart rob'd by two faire eyes, his gaine
Must prove his worldly hell,
After his hart hee fast doth hy,
His hart to her did fly,
And for a byding place did cry,
Within her brest to ly;

16.

She that refus'd: when hee her spide
Her whom hee held most deere
Ly weeping by a rivers side
Beholding papers neere.
Her ruling eyes must yett bee dimd
While pearlike tears she shed
Like shadowes on a picture limd,
Att last thes words she read.

17.

When I unconstant am to thee
Or faulse doe ever prove,
Lett hapines bee banisht mee
Nor have least taste of love:
Butt this alas too soone cride she
Is (Ô) by thee forgott
My hopes, and joys now murderd bee,
And faulshood is my lott;

18.

Too late I find what t'is to trust
To words, or othes, or tears,
Since they that use them prove unjust,
And couler butt owr fears.
Poore fooles ordain'd to bee deceav'd;
And trust to bee betraide,
Scornd when owr harts ar us bereav'd
Sought to, awhile delay'd;

19.

Yett though that thou soe faulse hast bin
I still will faithfull bee
And though thou think'st to leave, noe sin
I'le make my loyalty
To shine soe cleere as thy foule fault
To all men shalbee knowne,
Thy chang to thy changd hart bee brought,
My faith abroad bee blowne.

20.

ThIs having sayd againe she rose
The papers putting by,
And once againe a new way chose
Striving from griefe to fly;
Butt as she going was along
That pleasant runing streame
She saw the sallow trees amonge
The sheapherd Aradeame.

21.

For soe this woefull lad was call'de,
But when she him beheld,
What wichcraft hath thee now inthralld,
And brought thee to this field?
What can the cause or reason bee
That thou art hether come
Wher all must taste of misery,
And mirth with griefe intombe?

22.

Iff mirthe must heere intombed bee
Faire sheapherdes sayd hee
This place the fittest is for mee
If you use crueltie,
For know I hether com to see
Your self, wherin now lies
My lyfe, whose absence martir'd mee
Whose sight my powre tyes.

23.

Give mee butt leave to live with you,
Itt is the lyfe I crave:
To you I bound am to bee true,
My lyfe to you I gave,
When first I did behold you ly
In shade of willow tree
That time, my soule did to you ty,
Those eyes did murther mee.

24.

Is this the reason? ah cride she
The more I waile your cace
Who thus partaker needs little bee
In griefe, and in disgrace,
I pitty you, butt can nott ayde
You, nor redress your ill
Since joy, and paine together payd
Scarce satisfies the will;

25.

Iff I doe ty you I release
The bond wherin you are,
Your freedome shall nott finde decrease
Nor you accuse my care,
The paine I have is all my owne
Non can of itt beare part,
Sorrow my strength hath overthrowne:
Disdaine hath kil'd my hart;

26.

And sheapherd if that you doe love
This counsell take of mee
This humour fond, in time remove
Which can butt torture thee,
Take itt from her who too too well
Can wittnes itt is soe,
Whose hope seem'd heav'n, yett prov'd a hell,
And comfort chang'd to woe.

27.

For I was lov'd, or soe I thought
And for itt lov'd againe,
But soone those thoughts my ruin brought,
And nourisht all my paine,
They gave the milk that fed beliefe
Till wean'd they proved dry,
Theyr latter nourishment was griefe
Soe famish'd I must dy;

28.

Then see your chance; I can nott chang
Nor my affection turne
Disdaine, which others move to rang
Makes mee more constant burne;
My sighs I'me sure can nott you please,
My griefe noe musique prove,
My flowing teares your passions ease,
Nor woes delight your love,

29.

Iff my sight have your freedome wunn
Receave itt back againe
Soe much my self I find undun
By guifts which prove noe gaine
As I lament with them that love
Soe true in love I ame,
And liberty wish all to prove
Whose harts waste in this flame,

30.

Yett give mee leave (sigh'd hee with tears)
To live butt wher you are,
My woes shall waite upon your fears,
My sighs attend your care,
I'le weepe whenever you shall waile,
If you sigh I will cry
When you complaine, I'le never faile
To waile my misery.

31.

I will you guard, and safely keepe
From danger, and from feare,
Still will I wach when you doe sleep,
And for both sorrows beare,
Make mee nott free I bondage crave
Nor seek els butt to serve,
This freedom will procure my grave,
Thes bonds my lyfe preserve.

32.

For lyfe, and joye, and ease, and all
Alas lies in your hands
Then doe nott cause my only fall,
I tyde ame in such bands.
Part hence I can nott, nor love leave,
Butt heer must ever byde
Then pitty lett my paine receave,
Doe nott from mercy slide;

33.

Iff that sayd she you constant are
Unto your coming ill
I'le leave this place yett lett all care
Accompany mee still;
And sheapherd live, and hapy bee,
Lett judgment rule your will,
Seeke one whose hart from love is free,
And who your joye may fill;

34.

For I lov's bondslave ame, and tyde
In fetters of disdaine:
My hopes ar frozen, my spring dri'de,
My sommer drownd with paine;
I lov'd, and wurse, I sayd I lov'd,
Free truth my ruin brought
And soe your speech the like hath mov'd,
And loss for gaining bought,

35.

With that away she hasted fast,
Left him his cares to hold
Who now to sorrow makes all hast,
Woes drive his hopes to fold,
Now hee can see, and weeping say
His fortune blind hee finds
A hart to harbour his decay,
A state which mischief binds.

36.

This now hee feels, and woefully
His birth, and lyfe hee blames,
Yett passion rules when reasons ly
In dark, or quenched flames;
That place hee first beheld her in
His biding hee doth make:
The tree his liberty did win
Hee calls his martir stake;

37.

And pleasingly doth take his fall,
His griefe accounts delight,
Freedome, and joye his bitter thrall,
His food her absent sight,
In contraries his pleasures bee
While mourning gives him ease,
His tomb shall bee that haples tree
Wher sorrow did him seaze.

38.

And thus did live, though dayly dide
The sheapherd Aradeame
Whose ceasles tears which never drid
Were turn'd into a streame
Him self the hed, his eyes the spring
Which fed that river cleere,
And to true harts this good doth bring
When they aproach itt neere;

39.

And drinke of itt to banish quite
All ficle thoughts of chang
Butt still in one choyce to delight,
And never think to rang;
Of this sweet water I did drink
Which did such faith infuse
As since to change I can nott think
Love will death sooner chuse.

Rise, rise from sluggishnes, fly fast my Deere,
The early Larke prevents the rising lights:
The Sunne is risen, and shines in the rights
Of his bright glory, till your eyes appeare.

Arise, and make your two Sunnes so cleare show,
As he for shame his beames call backe againe,
And drowne them in the Sea for sorrowes paine,
That you, Commandresse of the light may know,

The dutie Sunne, and all must yeeld to you
Where richnesse of desert doth lie imbracd,
Night by your brightnes wholly now defac'd,
And Day alone left to you as lights due.

Yet be as waighty still in love to me,
Presse me with love, rather then lightly flie
My passions like to women, made to tie
Of purpose to unloose, and oft be free.

Thus may your lightnesse shewing ruine me,
I cannot live if your affections dye,
Or leave off living in my constancy
Be light and heavy too, so wee agree.

1

Have I lost my liberty,
And my selfe, and all, for thee
O Love?
Yet wilt thou no favour give
In my losse thy blame will live;
Alas remove.

2

Pitie claimes a just reward,
But proud thoughts are thy best guard
Once smile:
Glory tis to save a life
When deceivers are in strife
Which to beguile.

3

Your gaine hath my paine begot,
But neglect doth prove my lot,
O turne,
Say it was some other harme,
And not your still sought for Charme
Did make me burne.

4

Thus may you all blame recall,
Saving me from ruins thrall
Then love
Pitie me, Ile no more say
You to cruelty did sway,
But loyall prove.

5

Else be sure your tricks Ile blaze,
And your triumph Castle raze
Take heed,
Conquerours cannot remaine
Longer then mens hearts they gaine,
Worse will you speed.

6

You a King set up by Love,
Traytors soone may you remove
From hy,
Take this counsell serve loves will
And seeke not a heart to kill,
Least both doe cry.

Love growne proud with victory,
Seekes by sleights to conquer me,
Painted showes he thinks can bind
His commands in womens mind.
Love but glories in fond loving,
I most joy in not removing.

Love a word, a looke, a smile,
In these shapes can some beguile,
But he some new way must move
To make me a vassell prove.
Love but &

Love must all his shadowes leave
Or himselfe he will deceive,
Who loves not the perfect skie,
More then clouds that wanton flie.
Love but &

Love, yet thus thou maist me win,
If thy staidnesse would begin
Then like friends w' would kindly meete
When thou proov'st as true as sweete
Love then glory in thy loving
And Ile joy in my removing.

This no wonder's of much waight,
'Tis the hell of deepe deceit.