[_Despair._] Note here the skill and success of the use of the short--almost 'bob'--lines, and the _In Memoriam_ arrangement of rhyme in the last half of each stanza.] _The Picture._ Thou that both feel'st and dost admire The flames shot from a painted fire, Know Celia's image thou dost see: Not to herself more like is she. He that should both together view Would judge both pictures, or both true. But thus they differ: the best part Of Nature this is; that of Art. [_The Picture._] The conceit wraps up the point of the epigram.] _Opinion._ Whence took the diamond worth? the borrow'd rays That crystal wears, whence had they first their praise? Why should rude feet contemn the snow's chaste white, Which from the sun receives a sparkling light, Brighter than diamonds far, and by its birth Decks the green garment of the richer earth? Rivers than crystal clearer, when to ice Congeal'd, why do weak judgements so despise? Which, melting, show that to impartial sight Weeping than smiling crystal is more bright. 10 But Fancy those first priz'd, and these did scorn, Taking their praise the other to adorn. Thus blind is human sight: opinion gave To their esteem a birth, to theirs a grave; Nor can our judgements with these clouds dispense, Since reason sees but with the eyes of sense. [_Opinion._] As in _The Dream_, distinctly nervous stopped couplet.] POEMS PRINTED IN 1647 AND REPRINTED IN 1656 BUT NOT IN 1651 _The Dream._ That I might ever dream thus! that some power To my eternal sleep would join this hour! So, willingly deceiv'd, I might possess In seeming joys a real happiness. Haste not away: oh do not dissipate A pleasure thou so lately didst create! Stay, welcome Sleep; be ever here confin'd; Or if thou wilt away, leave her behind. [_The Dream._] Closed couplets, already of considerable accomplishment. Reprinted in _1656_ in an enlarged form; after ll. 1-4 the poem continued:-- Death, I would gladly bow beneath thy charms, If thou couldst bring my Doris to my arms, That thus at last made happy I might prove In life the hell, in death the heaven of love. Haste not away so soon, mock not my joy, With the delusive sight or empty noise Of happiness; oh do not dissipate A pleasure thou so lately didst create! Shadows of life or death do such bliss give, That 'tis an equal curse to wake or live. Stay then, kind Sleep; be ever here confin'd; Or if thou wilt away, leave her behind. ] _To Chariessa, beholding herself in a Glass._