114. UPON A DELAYING LADY Come, come away Or let me go; Must I here stay Because you're slow, And will continue so; --Troth, lady, no. I scorn to be A slave to state; And since I'm free, I will not wait, Henceforth at such a rate, For needy fate. If you desire My spark should glow, The peeping fire You must blow; Or I shall quickly grow To frost, or snow. 115. THE CRUEL MAID --AND, cruel maid, because I see You scornful of my love, and me, I'll trouble you no more, but go My way, where you shall never know What is become of me; there I Will find me out a path to die, Or learn some way how to forget You and your name for ever;--yet Ere I go hence, know this from me, What will in time your fortune be; This to your coyness I will tell; And having spoke it once, Farewell. --The lily will not long endure, Nor the snow continue pure; The rose, the violet, one day See both these lady-flowers decay; And you must fade as well as they. And it may chance that love may turn, And, like to mine, make your heart burn And weep to see't; yet this thing do, That my last vow commends to you; When you shall see that I am dead, For pity let a tear be shed; And, with your mantle o'er me cast, Give my cold lips a kiss at last; If twice you kiss, you need not fear That I shall stir or live more here. Next hollow out a tomb to cover Me, me, the most despised lover; And write thereon, THIS, READER, KNOW; LOVE KILL'D THIS MAN. No more, but so. 116. TO HIS MISTRESS, OBJECTING TO HIM NEITHER TOYING OR TALKING You say I love not, 'cause I do not play Still with your curls, and kiss the time away. You blame me, too, because I can't devise Some sport, to please those babies in your eyes; By Love's religion, I must here confess it, The most I love, when I the least express it. Shall griefs find tongues; full casks are ever found To give, if any, yet but little sound. Deep waters noiseless are; and this we know, That chiding streams betray small depth below. So when love speechless is, she doth express A depth in love, and that depth bottomless. Now, since my love is tongueless, know me such, Who speak but little, 'cause I love so much. 117. IMPOSSIBILITIES: TO HIS FRIEND My faithful friend, if you can see The fruit to grow up, or the tree; If you can see the colour come Into the blushing pear or plum; If you can see the water grow To cakes of ice, or flakes of snow; If you can see that drop of rain Lost in the wild sea once again; If you can see how dreams do creep Into the brain by easy sleep:-- --Then there is hope that you may see Her love me once, who now hates me.