Then, if when I have loved my round, Thou prov’st the pleasant she; With spoils of meaner beauties crowned I laden will return to thee, Even sated with variety. SIR JOHN SUCKLING _THE CONSTANT LOVER_ Out upon it! I have loved Three whole days together, And am like to love three more, If it prove fair weather. Time shall moult away his wings Ere he shall discover In the whole wide world again Such a constant lover. But the spite on ’tis, no praise Is due at all to me: Love with me had made no stays, Had it any been but she. Had it any been but she, And that very face, There had been at least ere this A dozen dozen in her place. _THE REMONSTRANCE_ Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can’t move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale? Why so dull and mute, young sinner? Prithee, why so mute? Will, when speaking well can’t win her, Saying nothing do’t? Prithee, why so mute? Quite, quit, for shame! this will not move, This cannot take her; If of herself she will not love, Nothing can make her: The devil take her! John Milton, second only to Shakespeare in all literature, is not usually looked upon as a humorist. A wise commentator (of more wisdom than wit), has said, of Milton, “Few great poets are so utterly without humor; alone among the greatest poets he has not sung of love.” We take objection to both these statements, though with the second we are not now concerned. But surely no humorless pen could have indited _L’Allegro_, and as to less subtle humor, we give in evidence the well known Epitaph on the Carrier. _FROM L’ALLEGRO_