_Un guardo—un guardo? no, troppo pietate E per misero Amante un guardo intero; Solo un de' vostri raggi, occhi girate, O parte del bel bianco, o del bel nero. E se troppo vi par, non mi mirate; Ma fate sol sembiante di mirarmi, Che nol potete far senza bearmi._[1] This is a new thought in amatory poetry; and the difficulty of striking out a new thought in such poetry, is of all difficulties the greatest. Think of a look from the white of an eye! Even part of a look however is more than a lady will bestow upon one whom she does not favour; and more than one whom she favours will consent to part with. An Innamorato Furioso in one of Dryden's tragedies says: I'll not one corner of a glance resign! [Footnote 1: CHIABRERA.] Poor Robert Greene, whose repentance has not been disregarded by just posterity, asked his mistress in his licentious days, to look upon him with one eye, (no doubt he meant a sheep's eye;) this also was a new thought; and he gave the reason for his request in this sonnet— On women nature did bestow two eyes, Like heaven's bright lamps, in matchless beauty shining, Whose beams do soonest captivate the wise, And wary heads, made rare by art's refining. But why did nature, in her choice combining, Plant two fair eyes within a beauteous face? That they might favour two with equal grace. Venus did soothe up Vulcan with one eye, With the other granted Mars his wished glee. If she did so whom Hymen did defy, Think love no sin, but grant an eye to me! In vain else nature gave two stars to thee. If then two eyes may well two friends maintain, Allow of two, and prove not nature vain. Love, they say, invented the art of tracing likenesses, and thereby led the way to portrait painting. Some painters it has certainly made; whether it ever made a poet may be doubted: but there can be no doubt that under its inspiration more bad poetry has been produced than by any, or all other causes. Hæc via jam cunctis nota est, hæc trita poetis Materia, hanc omnis tractat ubique liber.[2] As the most forward bud Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, Even so by Love the young and tender wit Is turn'd to folly.[3]