MADAM, The blushes I betray, When at your feet I humbly lay These papers, beg you would excuse Th' obedience of a bashful Muse, Who, bowing to your strict command, Trusts her own errors to your hand, Hasty abortives, which, laid by, She meant, ere they were born should die: But since the soft power of your breath Hath call'd them back again from Death, 10 To your sharp judgement now made known, She dares for hers no longer own; The worst she must not, these resign'd She hath to th' fire, and where you find Those your kind Charity admir'd, She writ but what your eyes inspir'd. [_To the Lady D._] This in _1647_ is the Dedication 'To my most honour'd Aunt the Lady Dormer'. She was a daughter of Sir William Hammond and wife of Sir Robert Dormer, Knight, of Chearsley, Bucks. In _1647_ Stanley added to the poem '_Madam, Your Ladyships Greatest admirer and most humble Servant_, THO. STANLEY'.] _Love Deposed._ You that unto your mistress' eyes Your hearts do sacrifice, And offer sighs or tears at Love's rich shrine, Renounce with me Th' idolatry, Nor this infernal Power esteem divine. The brand, the quiver, and the bow, Which we did first bestow, And he as tribute wears from every lover, I back again 10 From him have ta'en, And the impostor, now unveil'd, discover. I can the feeble child disarm, Untie his mystic charm, Divest him of his wings, and break his arrow; We will obey No more his sway, Nor live confin'd to laws or bounds so narrow. And you, bright Beauties, that inspire The Boy's pale torch with fire, 20 We safely now your subtle power despise, And unscorch'd may Like atoms play, And wanton in the sunshine of your eyes. Nor think hereafter by new arts You can bewitch our hearts, Or raise this devil by your pleasing charm; We will no more His power implore, Unless, like Indians, that he do no harm. 30 _The Divorce._ Dear, back my wounded heart restore, And turn away thy powerful eyes; Flatter my willing soul no more! Love must not hope what Fate denies. Take, take away thy smiles and kisses! Thy love wounds deeper than disdain; For he that sees the heaven he misses, Sustains two hells, of loss and pain. Shouldst thou some other's suit prefer, I might return thy scorn to thee, 10 And learn apostasy of her, Who taught me first idolatry. Or in thy unrelenting breast Should I disdain or coyness move, He by thy hate might be releas'd, Who now is prisoner to thy love.