They with preposterous grief the world delude, Who mourn for their lost mates in solitude; Since widowhood more strongly doth enforce The much lamented lot of their divorce. Themselves then of their losses guilty are, Who may, yet will not, suffer a repair. Those were barbarian wives, that did invent Weeping to death at th' husband's monument; 50 But in more civil rites she doth approve Her first, who ventures on a second love; For else it may be thought, if she refrain, She sped so ill, she durst not try again. Up then, my Love, and choose some worthier one, Who may supply my room when I am gone; So will the stock of our affection thrive No less in death, than were I still alive. And in my urn I shall rejoice, that I Am both testator thus and legacy. 60 [_The Legacy._] The remark made above applies especially to _The Legacy_, for there are no known or likely circumstances in King's life corresponding to it; while at the same time it might be the fancy of a young lover-husband. The first six stanzas have something of the 'yew-and-roses' charm of their great originals: the last four justify the ancients in holding that extravagance too often comports frigidity.] _The Short Wooing._ Like an oblation set before a shrine, Fair one! I offer up this heart of mine. Whether the Saint accept my gift or no, I'll neither fear nor doubt before I know. For he whose faint distrust prevents reply, Doth his own suit's denial prophesy. Your will the sentence is; who free as Fate Can bid my love proceed, or else retreat. And from short views that verdict is decreed Which seldom doth one audience exceed. 10 Love asks no dull probation, but like light Conveys his nimble influence at first sight. I need not therefore importune or press; This were t' extort unwilling happiness: And much against affection might I sin: To tire and weary what I seek to win. Towns which by ling'ring siege enforced be Oft make both sides repent the victory. Be Mistress of yourself: and let me thrive Or suffer by your own prerogative. 20 Yet stay, since you are Judge, who in one breath Bear uncontrolled power of Life and Death, Remember (Sweet) pity doth best become Those lips which must pronounce a suitor's doom. If I find that, my spark of chaste desire Shall kindle into Hymen's holy fire: Else like sad flowers will these verses prove, To stick the coffin of rejected Love. [_The Short Wooing._] A fair average metaphysicality.] _St. Valentine's Day_