Twice or thrice had I loved thee, Before I knew thy face or name; So in a voice, so in a shapelesse flame, _Angells_ affect us oft, and worship'd bee; Still when, to where thou wert, I came, 5 Some lovely glorious nothing I did see. But since my soule, whose child love is, Takes limmes of flesh, and else could nothing doe, More subtile then the parent is, Love must not be, but take a body too, 10 And therefore what thou wert, and who, I bid Love aske, and now That it assume thy body, I allow, And fixe it selfe in thy lip, eye, and brow. Whilst thus to ballast love, I thought, 15 And so more steddily to have gone, With wares which would sinke admiration, I saw, I had loves pinnace overfraught, Ev'ry thy haire for love to worke upon Is much too much, some fitter must be sought; 20 For, nor in nothing, nor in things Extreme, and scatt'ring bright, can love inhere; Then as an Angell, face, and wings Of aire, not pure as it, yet pure doth weare, So thy love may be my loves spheare; 25 Just such disparitie As is twixt Aire and Angells puritie, 'Twixt womens love, and mens will ever bee. [Aire and Angels. _1633-69_, _A18_, _D_, _H49_, _JC_, _Lec_, _N_, _O'F_, _P_, _S_, _S96_, _TCC_, _TCD:_ _no title_, _B_, _H40_] [4 bee; _Ed:_ bee, _1633-69_] [5 came,] came _1633_] [6 I did] did I _1669_ see. _Ed:_ see, _1633-69_] [7 since _Ed:_ since, _1633-69_] [11 who, _Ed:_ who _1633-69_] [14 lip, eye,] lips, eyes, _1669_, _Chambers_] [19 Ev'ry thy _1633-39_, _A18_, _B_ (Even), _D_, _H40_, _H49_, _JC_, _Lec_, _N_, _O'F_, _S_ (Ever), _S96_, _TC:_ Thy every _1650-69_] [22 scatt'ring _Ed:_ scattring, _1633-35:_ scattering _1639-69_] [27 Aire _1633-54 and all MSS.:_ Airs _1669_, _Chambers_] _Breake of day._ 'Tis true, 'tis day; what though it be? O wilt thou therefore rise from me? Why should we rise, because 'tis light? Did we lie downe, because 'twas night? Love which in spight of darknesse brought us hether, 5 Should in despight of light keepe us together. Light hath no tongue, but is all eye; If it could speake as well as spie, This were the worst, that it could say, That being well, I faine would stay, 10 And that I lov'd my heart and honor so, That I would not from him, that had them, goe. Must businesse thee from hence remove? Oh, that's the worst disease of love, The poore, the foule, the false, love can 15 Admit, but not the busied man. He which hath businesse, and makes love, doth doe Such wrong, as when a maryed man doth wooe.