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For life is short, and learning long,
All pleasure mixt with woe ;
And joys do come and go.
And joy enjoyed no while ;
This helps thee to beguile.
But after death is perfect skill,
And joy without decay ;
And steals our joys away ;
To spend the day in vain ;
To go to bed again.
Nor know not what we have ;
LOVE THE ONLY PRICE OF LOVE.
The fairest pearls that northern seas do breed,
For precious stones from eastern coasts are sold ;
Gold values all, and all things value gold.
No mortal thing can bear so high a price,
But that with mortal thing it may be bought ;
The corn of Sicil buys the western spice;
French wine of us, of them our cloth is sought. No pearls, no gold, no stones, no corn, no spice, No cloth, no wine, of Love can pay the price.
What thing is Love, which nought can countervail ?
Nought save itself, ev'n such a thing is Love.
As lowest earth doth yield to heaven above.
A POESY TO PROVE AFFECTION IS NOT LOVE,
Conceit, begotten by the eyes,
For as the seeds, in springtime sown,
Affection follows Fortune's wheels,
Desire himself runs out of breath,
As ships in ports desired are drowned ;
And yet some poets fain would prove
Sir Walter Raleigh.
The World's a bubble, and the Life of Man
Less than a span;
So to the tomb ;
With cares and fears.
What life is best?
Courts are but only superficial schools
To dandle fools :
Of savage men :
Domestic cares afflict the husband's bed,
Or pains his head :
Or do things worse :
Or wish them gone:
Our own affections still at home to please
Is a disease:
Peril and toil:
We are worse in peace :-
NATURAL COMPARISONS WITH PERFECT LOVE.
The lowest trees have tops; the ant her gall;
The fly her spleen ; the little sparks their heat: The slender hairs cast shadows, though but small ;
And bees have stings, although they be not great. Seas have their surges, so have shallow springs; And love is love, in beggars as in kings.
Where rivers smoothest run, deep are the fords ;
The dial stirs, yet none perceives it move ;
The turtles cannot sing, and yet they love.
THE SOUL'S ERRAND.
Go, Soul, the body's guest,
Upon a thankless errand;
The truth shall be thy warrant.
And shines like rotten wood;
What's good, and doth no good.
Acting by others' action;
Not strong but by affection.
That manage the Estate,
Their practice only hate.