Noonday and midnight shall at once be seen: Trees, at one time, shall be both sere and green: Fire and water shall together lie In one self-sweet-conspiring sympathy: Summer and winter shall at one time show Ripe ears of corn, and up to th' ears in snow: Seas shall be sandless; fields devoid of grass; Shapeless the world, as when all chaos was, Before, my dear Perilla, I will be False to my vow, or fall away from thee. 155. LOVE PERFUMES ALL PARTS. If I kiss Anthea's breast, There I smell the phœnix nest: If her lip, the most sincere Altar of incense I smell there-- Hands, and thighs, and legs are all Richly aromatical. Goddess Isis can't transfer Musks and ambers more from her: Nor can Juno sweeter be, When she lies with Jove, than she. 156. TO JULIA. Permit me, Julia, now to go away; Or by thy love decree me here to stay. If thou wilt say that I shall live with thee, Here shall my endless tabernacle be: If not, as banish'd, I will live alone There where no language ever yet was known. 157. ON HIMSELF. Love-sick I am, and must endure A desperate grief, that finds no cure. Ah me! I try; and trying, prove _No herbs have power to cure love._ Only one sovereign salve I know, And that is death, the end of woe. 158. VIRTUE IS SENSIBLE OF SUFFERING. Though a wise man all pressures can sustain, His virtue still is sensible of pain: Large shoulders though he has, and well can bear, He feels when packs do pinch him, and the where. 159. THE CRUEL MAID. And cruel maid, because I see You scornful of my love and me, I'll trouble you no more; but go My way where you shall never know What is become of me: there I Will find me out a path to die, Or learn some way how to forget You and your name for ever: yet, Ere I go hence, know this from me, What will, in time, your fortune be: This to your coyness I will tell, And, having spoke it once, farewell. The lily will not long endure, Nor the snow continue pure; The rose, the violet, one day, See, both these lady-flowers decay: And you must fade as well as they. And it may chance that Love may turn, And, like to mine, make your heart burn And weep to see't; yet this thing do, That my last vow commends to you: When you shall see that I am dead, For pity let a tear be shed; And, with your mantle o'er me cast, Give my cold lips a kiss at last: If twice you kiss you need not fear That I shall stir or live more here. Next, hollow out a tomb to cover Me--me, the most despisèd lover, And write thereon: _This, reader, know: Love kill'd this man_. No more, but so. 160. TO DIANEME.