The Fool of nature, stood with stupid eyes
And gaping Mouth, that testify'd Surprize,
Fix'd on her Face, nor cou'd remove his Sight,
New as he was to Love, and Novice in Delight:
Long mute he stood, and leaning on his Staff,
His Wonder witness'd with an Ideot laugh;
Then would have spoke, but by his glimmering Sense
First found his want of Words, and fear'd Offence:
Doubted for what he was he should be known,
By his Clown-Accent and his Country-Tone.
Through the rude Chaos thus the running Light
Shot the first Ray that pierc'd the Native Night:

One with eyes the fairest
Cometh from his dwelling,
Some one loves thee, rarest,
Bright beyond my telling.
In thy grace thou shinest
Like some nymph divinest,
In her caverns dewy: —
All delights pursue thee,
Soon pied flowers, sweet-breathing,
Shall thy head be wreathing.

They sin who tell us Love can die.
With life all other passions fly,
All others are but vanity.
In Heaven Ambition cannot dwell,
Nor Avarice in the vaults of Hell;
Earthly these passions of the Earth,
They perish where they have their birth;
But Love is indestructible.
Its holy flame for ever burneth,
From Heaven it came, to Heaven returneth;
Too oft on Earth a troubled guest,
At times deceived, at time opprest,
It here is tried and purified,
Then hath in Heaven its perfect rest:
It soweth here with toil and care,

LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP

Nothing was heard in the room but the hurrying pen of the stripling,
Or an occasional sigh from the laboring heart of the Captain,
Reading the marvellous words and achievements of Julius Caesar
After a while he exclaimed, as he smote with his hand, palm downwards,
Heavily on the page: " A wonderful man was this Caesar!
You are a writer, and I am a fighter, but here is a fellow
Who could both write and fight, and in both was equally skilful! "

Love is that madness which all lovers have;
But yet 'tis sweet and pleasing so to rave:
'Tis an enchantment, where the reason's bound;
But paradise is in the enchanted ground;
A palace, void of envy, cares and strife,
Where gentle hours delude so much of life.
To take those charms away, and set me free,
Is but to send me into misery;
And prudence, of whose cure so much you boast,
Restores those pains which that sweet folly lost.

Alas! if I think of her, my throat becomes
dry, my hand falls back, my breasts harden and
hurt, and I shiver and I cry as I walk. If I
see her, my heart stops and my hands tremble,
my feet freeze, a redness of flame rises to my
cheeks, my temples beat in agony. If I touch
her, I grow mad, my arms stiffen and my knees
give under me. I fall before her, and I go to
my bed like a woman who is going to die. I feel
I am wounded by every word she speaks. Her love
is a torture, and those who pass by hear my
lamentations . . . Alas! how can I call her

The storm lasted all night. Selenis, with her lovely
hair, came to spin with me. She stayed for fear of
the mud, and we filled my little bed, clasped close
to each other. When two girls go to bed together, sleep
stays at the door. " Bilitis, tell me, tell me, whom
do you love?" To caress me softly she slipped her leg
over mine. And over my mouth she said: " Bilitis, I
know whom you love. Shut your eyes. I am Lycas!"
I answered, touching her: " Can I not see that you
are a girl? Your pleasantry is out of place." But

To CASTARA.

What Lovers will say when she and he are dead.

I wonder when w'are dead, what men will say;
 Will not poore Orphan Lovers weepe,
 The parents of their Loves decay;
And envy death the treasure of our sleepe?
Will not each trembling Virgin bring her feares
 To th' holy silence of my Vrne?
 And chide the Marble with her teares,
'Cause she so soone faith's obsequie must mourne.
For had Fate spar'd but Araphill (she'le say)
 He had the great example stood,
 And forc't unconstant man obey

The harmony of Love.

Amphion , O thou holy shade!
 Bring Orpheus up with thee:
That wonder may you both invade,
 Hearing Loves harmony.
You who are soule, not rudely made
 Vp, with Materiall eares,
Are fit to reach the musique of these spheares.
Harke! when Castara's orbs doe move
 By my first moving eyes,
How great the Symphony of Love,
 But 'tis the destinies
Will not so farre my prayer approve,
 To bring you hither, here
Lest you meete heaven, for Elizium there.
Tis no dull Sublunary flame

To CASTARA.

Of the knowledge of Love.

Where sleepes the North-wind when the South inspires
Life in the spring, and gathers into quires
The scatter'd Nightingales; whose subtle eares
Heard first th' harmonious language of the Spheares;
Whence hath the stone Magneticke force t' allure
Th' enamourd iron; From a seed impure
Or naturall did first the Mandrake grow;
What powre ith' Ocean makes it ebbe and flow;
What strange materials is the azure skye
Compacted of; of what its brightest eye