But what can stay my thoughts, they may not start? Or put my tongue in durance for to die? When as these eyes, the keys of mouth and heart Open the lock, where all my love doth lie. I'll seal them up within their lids for ever! So thoughts and words and looks shall die together. How shall I then gaze on my mistress' eyes? My thoughts must have some vent, else heart will break. My tongue would rust, as in my mouth it lies; If eyes and thoughts were free, and that not speak. Speak then! and tell the passions of Desire! Which turns mine eyes to floods, my thoughts to fire. * * * * * Whoever thinks, or hopes of love for love? Or who beloved, in CUPID's laws doth glory? Who joys in vows, or vows not to remove: Who, by this light god, hath not been made sorry? Let him see me! eclipsed from my sun; With dark clouds of an earth, quite overrun. Who thinks that sorrows felt, desires hidden, Or humble faith in constant honour armed, Can keep love from the fruit that is forbidden? Who thinks that change is by entreaty charmed? Looking on me; let him know Love's delights Are treasures hid in caves, but kept by sprites! * * * * * My Thoughts are winged with Hopes, my Hopes with Love. Mount Love unto the moon in clearest night! And say, "As she doth in the heavens move, In earth so wanes and waxeth my delight." And whisper this, but softly, in her ears! "Hope oft doth hang the head, and Trust shed tears." And you, my Thoughts, that some mistrust do carry! If for mistrust, my mistress do you blame, Say, "Though you alter, yet you do not vary As she doth change; and yet remain the same: Distrust doth enter hearts, but not infect; And love is sweetest, seasoned with suspect." If she for this, with clouds do mask her eyes, And make the heavens dark with her disdain; With windy sighs disperse them in the skies! Or with thy tears dissolve them into rain! Thoughts, Hopes, and Love return to me no more, Till CYNTHIA shine, as she hath done before! * * * * * If My complaints could passions move, Or make LOVE see wherein I suffer wrong; My passions were enough to prove That my despairs had governed me too long. O LOVE, I live and die in thee! Thy wounds do freshly bleed in me! Thy grief in my deep sighs still speaks, Yet thou dost hope when I despair! My heart for thy unkindness breaks! Thou say'st, "Thou can'st my harms repair." And when I hope: thou mak'st me hope in vain! Yet for redress, thou let'st me still complain!