Rom fairest creatures we defire increase,
That thereby beauties Rose might neuer die,
But as the riper should by time decease,
His tender heire might beare his memory :
But thou contracted to thine owne bright eyes,
Feed'ft thy lights flame with felfe fubftantiall fewell,
Making a famine where aboundance lies,
Thy felfe thy foe, to thy fweet felfe too cruell:
Thou that art now the worlds fresh ornament,
And only herauld to the gaudy fpring,
Within thine own bud buriest thy content,
And tender chorle makst wast in niggarding:
Pitty the world, or else this glutton be,
To eate the worlds due, by the graue and thee.
VVHen fortie Winters fhall befeige thy brow,
And digge deep trenches in thy beauties field,
Thy youthes proud liuery fo gaz'd on now,
Wil be a totter'd weed of smal worth held:
Then being askt, where all thy beautie lies,
Where all the treasure of thy lufty daies;
To say within thine owne deepe funken eyes,
Where an all-eating fhame, and thriftleffe praise.
How much more praise deferu'd thy beauties vse,
If thou couldft anfwere this faire child of mine
Shall fum my count, and make my old excuse
Proouing his beautie by fucceffion thine.
This were to be new made when thou art ould, And fee thy blood warme when thou feel'ft it could,
Ooke in thy glaffe and tell the face thou vewest,
Now is the time that face fhould forme an other,
Whose fresh repaire if now thou not renewest,
Thou doo'ft beguile the world, vnblesse some mother.
For where is fhe fo faire whofe vn-eard wombe
Difdaines the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he fo fonde will be the tombe,
Of his felfe loue to stop pofterity?
Thou art thy mothers glaffe and fhe in thee
Calls backe the louely Aprill of her prime,
So thou through windowes of thine age fhalt fee,
Difpight of wrinkles this thy goulden time.
But if thou liue remembred not to be,
Die fingle and thine Image dies with thee.
Nthrifty louelineffe why doft thou spend,
Vpon thy felfe thy beauties legacy?
Natures bequeft giues nothing but doth lend,
And being franck fhe lends to those are free:
Then beautious nigard why dooft thou abuse,
The bountious largeffe giuen thee to giue?
Profitles vferer why dooft thou vse
So great a fumme of fummes yet can'st not liue?
For hauing traffike with thy felfe alone,
Thou of thy felfe thy fweet felfe doft deceaue,
Then how when nature calls thee to be
What acceptable Audit can't thou leaue?
Thy vnuf'd beauty must be tomb'd with thee,
Which vfed liues th' executor to be.
THofe howers that with gentle worke did frame,
The louely gaze where euery eye doth dwell
Will play the tirants to the very fame,
And that vnfaire which fairely doth excell:
For neuer refting time leads Summer on,
To hidious winter and confounds him there,
Sap checkt with frost and luftie leau's quite gon.
Beauty ore-fnow'd and barenes euery where,
Then were not fummers diftillation left
A liquid prifoner pent in walls of glasse,
Beauties effect with beauty were bereft,
Nor it nor noe remembrance what it was.
But flowers diftil'd though they with winter meete,
Leefe but their show, their substance still liues sweet.
'Hen let not winter's wragged hand deface,
In thee thy fummer ere thou be diftil'd:
Make sweet some viall; treasure thou fome place,
With beautits treasure ere it be felfe kil'd:
That vfe is not forbidden vfery,
Which happies those that pay the willing lone;
That's for thy felfe to breed an other thee,
Or ten times happier be it ten for one,
Ten times thy felfe were happier then thou art,
If ten of thine ten times refigur'd thee,
Then what could death doe if thou should'st depart,
Leauing thee liuing in pofterity?
Be not felfe-wild for thou art much too faire,
To be deaths conqueft and make wormes thine heire.
Oe in the Orient when the gracious light.
Lifts vp his burning head, each vnder eye
Doth homage to his new appearing fight,
Seruing with lookes his facred maiesty,
And hauing climb'd the steepe vp heauenly hill,
Refembling strong youth in his middle age,
Yet mortall lookes adore his beauty still,
Attending on his goulden pilgrimage:
But when from high-moft pich with wery car,
Like feeble age he reeleth from the day,
The eyes (fore dutious) now conuerted are
From his low tract and looke an other way:
So thou, thy felfe out-going in thy noon :
Vnlok'd on dieft vnleffe thou get a fonne.
Vfick to heare, why hear'st thou musick sadly, Sweets with sweets warre not, ioy delights in ioy: Why lou'st thou that which thou receaust not gladly, Or elfe receau'ft with pleasure thine annoy?
If the true concord of well tuned founds,
By vnions married do offend thine eare,
They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
In fingleneffe the parts that thou should'st beare:
Marke how one ftring fweet husband to an other,
Strikes each in each by mutuall ordering;
Resembling fier, and child, and happy mother,
Who all in one, one pleafing note do fing:
Whofe fpeechleffe fong being many, feeming one,
Sings this to thee thou single wilt proue none.
IS it for feare to wet a widdowes eye,
That thou confum'st thy felfe in single life?
Ah; if thou iffuleffe fhalt hap to die,
The world will waile thee like a makeleffe wife,
The world wilbe thy widdow and still weepe,
That thou no forme of thee haft left behind,
When euery priuat widdow well may keepe,
By childrens eyes, her husbands fhape in minde:
Looke what an vnthrift in the world doth spend
Shifts but his place, for ftill the world inioyes it
But beauties wafte hath in the world an end,
And kept vnvfde the vfer so destroyes it :
No loue toward others in that bofome fits
That on himselfe fuch murdrous fhame commits.
For fhame deny that thou bear'st loue to any
Who for thy felfe art fo vnprouident
Graunt if thou wilt, thou art belou'd of many,
But that thou none lou'ft is moft euident:
For thou art so possest with murdrous hate,
That gainst thy felfe thou stickst not to conspire,
Seeking that beautious roofe to ruinate
Which to repaire should be thy chiefe defire :
O change thy thought, that I may change my minde,
Shall hate be fairer log'd then gentle loue?
Be as thy prefence is gracious and kind,
Or to thy felfe at least kind harted proue,
Make thee an other selfe for loue of me,
That beauty still may liue in thine or thee.
S faft as thou fhalt wane so fast thou grow'st,
In one of thine, from that which thou departeft,
And that fresh bloud which yongly thou beftow'ft,
Thou maist call thine, when thou from youth conuertest,
Herein liues wisdome, beauty, and increase,
Without this follie, age, and could decay,
If all were minded fo, the times fhould ceafe,
And threefcoore yeare would make the world away:
Let those whom nature hath not made for store,
Harsh, featureleffe, and rude, barrenly perrish,
Looke whom the best indow'd, fhe gaue the more;
Which bountious guift thou shouldft in bounty cherrish,
She caru'd thee for her feale, and ment therby,
Thou shouldft print more, not let that coppy die.
When I doe count the clock that tels the time,
And fee the braue day funck in hidious night,
When I behold the violet paft prime,
And fable curls or filuer'd ore with white :
When lofty trees I fee barren of leaues,
Which erft from heat did canopie the herd
|