Venus and Adonis

“Affection is a coal that must be cool'd; Else, suffer'd, it will set the heart on fire: The sea hath bounds, but deep desire hath none;”

“Alas! poor world, what treasure hast thou lost! What face remains alive that's worth the viewing? Whose tongue is music now? what canst thou boast Of things long since, or anything ensuing? ”

“An oven that is stopp'd, or river stay'd, Burneth more hotly, swelleth with more rage: So of concealed sorrow may be said; Free vent of words love's fire doth assuage;”

“And as she runs, the bushes in the way Some catch her by the neck, some kiss her face, Some twine about her thigh to make her stay: She wildly breaketh from their strict embrace, Like a milch doe, whose swelling dugs do ache, Hasting to feed her fawn hid in some brake. ”

“And at his look she flatly falleth down For looks kill love, and love by looks reviveth; A smile recures the wounding of a frown; But blessed bankrupt, that by love so thriveth!”

“And more than so, presenteth to mine eye The picture of an angry-chafing boar, Under whose sharp fangs on his back doth lie An image like thyself, all stain'd with gore; Whose blood upon the fresh flowers being shed Doth make them droop with grief and hang the head.”

“And now she beats her heart, whereat it groans, That all the neighbour caves, as seeming troubled, Make verbal repetition of her moans; Passion on passion deeply is redoubled: ”

“And now the happy season once more fits, That love-sick Love by pleading may be blest; For lovers say, the heart hath treble wrong When it is barr'd the aidance of the tongue.”

“And straight, in pity of his tender years, They both would strive who first should dry his tears.”

“And therefore hath she brib'd the Destinies, To cross the curious workmanship of nature To mingle beauty with infirmities, And pure perfection with impure defeature; Making it subject to the tyranny Of mad mischances and much misery;”

“And when thou hast on foot the purblind hare, Mark the poor wretch, to overshoot his troubles How he outruns the winds, and with what care He cranks and crosses with a thousand doubles: The many musits through the which he goes Are like a labyrinth to amaze his foes.”

“Anon he rears upright, curvets and leaps, As who should say, 'Lo! thus my strength is tried; And this I do to captivate the eye Of the fair breeder that is standing by.”

“Anon their loud alarums he doth hear; And now his grief may be compared well To one sore sick that hears the passing bell.”

“Art thou a woman's son, and canst not feel What 'tis to love? how want of love tormenteth? O! had thy mother borne so hard a mind, She had not brought forth thee, but died unkind.”

“Art thou asham'd to kiss? then wink again, And I will wink; so shall the day seem night; Love keeps his revels where there are but twain; Be bold to play, our sport is not in sight:”

“As falcon to the lure, away she flies; The grass stoops not, she treads on it so light; And in her haste unfortunately spies The foul boar's conquest on her fair delight;”

“Being mad before, how doth she now for wits? Struck dead at first, what needs a second striking? Poor queen of love, in thine own law forlorn, To love a cheek that smiles at thee in scorn!”

“Being so enrag'd, desire doth lend her force Courageously to pluck him from his horse. Over one arm the lusty courser's rein Under her other was the tender boy, ”

“Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear, Or like a fairy, trip upon the green, Or, like a nymph, with long dishevell'd hair, Dance on the sands, and yet no footing seen:

“Both favour, savour hue, and qualities, Whereat the impartial gazer late did wonder, Are on the sudden wasted, thaw'd and done, As mountain-snow melts with the mid-day sun.”

“But all in vain, good queen, it will not be: She hath assay'd as much as may be prov'd; Her pleading hath deserv'd a greater fee; She's Love, she loves, and yet she is not lov'd.”

“By this, far off she hears some huntsman holloa; A nurse's song no'er pleas'd her babe so well: The dire imagination she did follow This sound of hope doth labour to expel; ”

“By this, poor Wat, far off upon a hill, Stands on his hinder legs with listening ear, To hearken if his foes pursue him still:”

“Call it not, love, for Love to heaven is fled, Since sweating Lust on earth usurp'd his name; Under whose simple semblance he hath fed Upon fresh beauty, blotting it with blame; ”

“Cynthia for shame obscures her silver shine Till forging Nature be condemn'd of treason, For stealing moulds from heaven that were divine; Wherein she fram'd thee in high heaven's despite, To shame the sun by day and her by night. ”

“Didst thou not mark my face? was it not white? Saw'st thou not signs of fear lurk in mine eye? Grew I not faint? And fell I not downright? Within my bosom, whereon thou dost lie, My boding heart pants, beats, and takes no rest, But, like an earthquake, shakes thee on my breast.”

“EVEN as the sun with purple-colour'd face Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn, Rose-cheek'd Adonis tried him to the chase; Hunting he lov'd, but love he laugh'd to scorn;”

“Each envious briar his weary legs doth scratch, Each shadow makes him stop, each murmur stay: For misery is trodden on by many, And being low never reliev'd by any. ”

“Even as an empty eagle, sharp by fast, Tires with her beak on feathers, flesh and bone, Shaking her wings, devouring all in haste, Till either gorge be stuff'd or prey be gone;”

“Fair queen,' quoth he, 'if any love you owe me, Measure my strangeness with my unripe years: Before I know myself, seek not to know me; No fisher but the ungrown fry forbears: The mellow plum doth fall, the green sticks fast, Or being early pluck'd is sour to taste.”

“Fie! lifeless picture, cold and senseless stone, Well-painted idol, image dull and dead, Statue contenting but the eye alone, Thing like a man, but of no woman bred:”

“For now she knows it is no gentle chase, But the blunt boar, rough bear, or lion proud, Because the cry remaineth in one place, Wilere fearfully the dogs exclaim aloud: Finding their enemy to be so curst, They all strain courtesy who shall cope him first.”

“For there his smell with others being mingled, The hot scent-snuffing hounds are driven to doubt, Ceasing their clamorous cry till they have singled With much ado the cold fault cleanly out; Then do they spend their mouths: Echo replies, As if another chase were in the skies.

“For who hath she to spend the night withal, But idle sounds resembling parasites; Like shrill-tongu'd tapsters answering every call, Soothing the humour of fantastic wits?”

“Forc'd to content, but never to obey, Panting he lies, and breatheth in her face; She feedeth on the steam, as on a prey, And calls it heavenly moisture, air of grace; ”

“Foul words and frowns must not repel a lover; What though the rose have prickles, yet 'tis pluck'd: Were beauty under twenty locks kept fast, Yet love breaks through and picks them all at last.”

“Good night,' quoth she; and ere he says adieu, The honey fee of parting tender'd is: Her arms do lend his neck a sweet embrace; Incorporate then they seem, face grows to face.

“Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry, Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie. 'Within this limit is relief enough, Sweet bottom-grass and high delightful plain,”

“Grim-grinning ghost, earth's worm, what dost thou mean To stifle beauty and to steal his breath, Who when he liv'd, his breath and beauty set Gloss on the rose, smell to the violet? ”

“Had I no eyes but ears, my ears would love That inward beauty and invisible; Or were I deaf, thy outward parts would move Each part in me that were but sensible: Though neither eyes nor ears, to hear nor see, Yet should I be in love by touching thee.”

“Her lips are conquerors, his lips obey, Paying what ransom the insulter willeth; Whose vulture thought doth pitch the price so high, That she will draw his lips' rich treasure dry. ”

“Her more than haste is mated with delays, Like the proceedings of a drunken brain, Full of respects, yet nought at all respecting, In hand with all things, nought at all effecting.”

“Her song was tedious, and outwore the night, For lovers' hours are long, though seeming short: If pleas'd themselves, others, they think, delight In such like circumstance, with such like sport:”

“Here come and sit, where never serpent hisses; And being set, I'll smother thee with kisses: 'And yet not cloy thy lips with loath'd satiety, But rather famish them amid their plenty, ”

“High crest, short ears, straight legs and passing strong, Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide: Look, what a horse should have he did not lack, Save a proud rider on so proud a back. ”

“His brawny sides, with hairy bristles arm'd, Are better proof than thy spear's point can enter; His short thick neck cannot be easily harm'd; Being ireful, on the lion he will venture: The thorny brambles and embracing bushes, As fearful of him, part, through whom he rushes.”

“His louring brows o'erwhelming his fair sight, Like misty vapours when they blot the sky, Souring his cheeks, cries, 'Fie! no more of love: The sun doth burn my face; I must remove.”

“Hot, faint, and weary, with her hard embracing, Like a wild bird being tam'd with too much handling, Or as the fleet-foot roe that's tir'd with chasing, Or like the froward infant still'd with dandling,”

“How like a Jade he stood, tied to the tree, Servilely master'd with a leathern rein! But when he saw his love, his youth's fair fee, He held such petty bondage in disdain;”

“Is thine own heart to shine own face affected? Can thy right hand seize love upon thy left? Then woo thyself, be of thyself rejected, Steal thine own freedom, and complain on theft.”

“It shall be cause of war and dire events, And set dissension 'twixt the son and sire; Subject and servile to all discontents, As dry combustious matter is to fire:”

“It shall be fickle, false, and full of fraud, Bud and be blasted in a breathing-while; The bottom poison, and the top o'erstraw'd With sweets that shall the truest sight beguile: The strongest body shall it make most weak, Strike the wise dumb and teach the fool to speak.”

“It shall be sparing and too full of riot, Teaching decrepit age to tread the measures; The staring ruffian shall it keep in quiet, Pluck down the rich, enrich the poor with treasures; It shall be raging mad, and silly mild, Make the young old, the old become a child. ”

“Like the fair sun, when in his fresh array He cheers the morn, and all the world relieveth: And as the bright sun glorifies the sky, So is her face illumin'd with her eye;”

“Lo! here the gentle lark, weary of rest, From his moist cabinet mounts up on high, And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast The sun ariseth in his majesty; Who doth the world so gloriously behold, That cedar-tops and hills seem burnish'd gold.”

“Lo! in this hollow cradle take thy rest, My throbbing heart shall rock thee day and night: There shall not be one minute in an hour Wherein I will not kiss my sweet love's flower.”

“Look! the world's comforter, with weary gait His day's hot task hath ended in the west; The owl, night's herald, shrieks, 'tis very late; The sheep are gone to fold, birds to their nest, And coal-black clouds that shadow heaven's light Do summon us to part, and bid good night.”

“Look, how a bright star shooteth from the sky So glides he in the night from Venus' eye;”

“Look, how the world's poor people are amaz'd At apparitions, signs, and prodigies, Whereon with fearful eyes they long have gaz'd, Infusing them with dreadful prophecies; ”

“Love comforteth like sunshine after rain, But Lust's effect is tempest after sun; Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain, Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done. Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies; Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies.”

“Make use of time, let not advantage slip; Beauty within itself should not be wasted: Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime Rot and consume themselves in little time.”

“More I could tell, but more I dare not say; The text is old, the orator too green. Therefore, in sadness, now I will away;”

“My smooth moist hand, were it with thy hand felt. Would in thy palm dissolve, or seem to melt.”

“Ne'er settled equally, but high or low; That all love's pleasure shall not match his woe.”

“No, lady, no; my heart longs not to groan, But soundly sleeps, while now it sleeps alone.”

“Now was she just before him as he sat, And like a lowly lover down she kneels; With one fair hand she heaveth up his hat, Her other tender hand his fair cheek feels:”

“Now which way shall she turn? what shall she say? Her words are done, her woes the more increasing; The time is spent, her object will away, And from her twining arms doth urge releasing:”

“O Jove!' quoth she, 'how much a fool was I, To be of such a weak and silly mind To wail his death who lives and must not die Till mutual overthrow of mortal kind;”

“O! how her eyes and tears did lend and borrow; Her eyes seen in the tears, tears in her eye; Both crystals, where they view'd each other's sorrow, Sorrow that friendly sighs sought still to dry; But like a stormy day, now wind, now rain, Sighs dry her cheeks, tears make them wet again.”

“O! what a war of looks was then between them; Her eyes petitioners to his eyes suing; His eyes saw her eyes as they had not seen them; Her eyes woo'd still, his eyes disdain'd the wooing: And all this dumb play had his acts made plain With tears, which, chorus-like, her eyes did rain.”

“O! where am I?' quoth she, 'in earth or heaven, Or in the ocean drench'd, or in the fire? What hour is this? or morn or weary even? Do I delight to die, or life desire?

“On his bow-back he hath a battle set Of bristly pikes, that ever threat his foes; His eyes like glow-worms shine when he doth fret; His snout digs sepulchres where'er he goes; Being mov'd, he strikes whate'er is in his way, And whom he strikes his crooked tushes slay. ”

“Or as the wolf doth grin before he barketh, Or as the berry breaks before it staineth, Or like the deadly bullet of a gun, His meaning struck her ere his words begun.”

“Or, as the snail, whose tender horns being hit, Shrinks backwards in his shelly cave with pain, And there, all smother'd up, in shade doth sit, Long after fearing to creep forth again; ”

“Over my altars hath he hung his lance, His batter'd shield, his uncontrolled crest, And for my sake hath learn'd to sport and dance To toy, to wanton, dally, smile, and jest; Scorning his churlish drum and ensign red Making my arms his field, his tent my bed. ”

“Rich preys make true men thieves; so do thy lips Make modest Dian cloudy and forlorn, Lest she should steal a kiss and die forsworn.”

“So in thyself thyself art made away; A mischief worse than civil home-bred strife, Or theirs whose desperate hands themselves do slay, Or butcher-sire that reeves his son of life. Foul-cankering rust the hidden treasure frets, But gold that's put to use more gold begets.' ”

“So white a friend engirts so white a foe: This beauteous combat, wilful and unwilling, Show'd like two silver doves that sit a-billing.”

“Sometime he runs among a flock of sheep, To make the cunning hounds mistake their smell, And sometime where earth-delving conies keep, To stop the loud pursuers in their yell, And sometime sorteth with a herd of deer; Danger deviseth shifts, wit waits on fear:”

“Still she entreats, and prettily entreats, For to a pretty ear she tunes her tale; Still is he sullen, still he lours and frets, 'Twixt crimson shame and anger ashy-pale;”

“The iron bit he crusheth 'tween his teeth, Controlling what he was controlled with. His ears up-prick'd; his braided hanging mane Upon his compass'd crest now stand on end;”

“The one doth flatter thee in thoughts unlikely, In likely thoughts the other kills thee quickly.”

“The sun that shines from heaven shines but warm, And lo! I lie between that sun and thee: The heat I have from thence doth little harm, Thine eye darts forth the fire that burneth me; And were I not immortal, life were done Between this heavenly and earthly sun.”

“Therefore, despite of fruitless chastity, Love-lacking vestals and self-loving nuns, That on the earth would breed a scarcity And barren dearth of daughters and of sons, Be prodigal: the lamp that burns by night Dries up his oil to lend the world his light. ”

“This said, impatience chokes her pleading tongue, And swelling passion doth provoke a pause; Red cheeks and fiery eyes blaze forth her wrong; Being judge in love, she cannot right her cause:”

“Thus he that overrul'd I oversway'd, Leading him prisoner in a red-rose chain: Strong-temper'd steel his stronger strength obey'd, Yet was he servile to my coy disdain. ”

“Thus weary of the world, away she hies, And yokes her silver doves; by whose swift aid Their mistress, mounted, through the empty skies In her light chariot quickly is convey'd; Holding their course to Paphos, where their queen Means to immure herself and not be seen.”

“Thy mermaid's voice hath done me double wrong; I had my load before, now press'd with bearing: Melodious discord, heavenly tune, harsh-sounding, Ear's deep-sweet music, and heart's deep-sore wounding.”

“To see his face the lion walk'd along Behind some hedge, because he would not fear him; To recreate himself when he hath sung, The tiger would be tame and gently hear him; If he had spoke, the wolf would leave his prey, And never fright the silly lamb that day.”

“To take advantage on presented joy Though I were dumb, yet his proceedings teach thee. O learn to love, the lesson is but plain, And once made perfect, never lost again. ”

“Upon the earth's increase why shouldst thou feed, Unless the earth with thy increase be fed? By law of nature thou art bound to breed, That thine may live when thou thyself art dead;”

“Variable passions throng her constant woe, As striving who should best become her grief; All entertain'd, each passion labours so, That every present sorrow seemeth chief, But none is best; then join they all together, Like many clouds consulting for foul weather.”

“Were never four such lamps together mix'd, Had not his clouded with his brow's repine; But hers, which through the crystal tears gave light Shone like the moon in water seen by night. ”

“What cares he now for curb or pricking spur? For rich caparisons or trapping gay? He sees his love, and nothing else he sees, Nor nothing else with his proud sight agrees. ”

“What is thy body but a swallowing grave, Seeming to bury that posterity Which by the rights of time thou needs must have, If thou destroy them not in dark obscurity? ”

“What wax so frozen but dissolves with tempering, And yields at last to every light impression? Things out of hope are compass'd oft with venturing, Chiefly in love, whose leave exceeds commission: ”

“When he beheld his shadow in the brook, The fishes spread on it their golden gills; When he was by, the birds such pleasure took, That some would sing, some other in their bills Would bring him mulberries and ripe-red cherries He fed them with his sight, they him with berries.”

“Where they resign their office and their light To the disposing of her troubled brain; Who bids them still consort with ugly night, And never wound the heart with looks again;”

“Whereat amaz'd, as one that unaware Hath dropp'd a precious jewel in the flood, Or 'stonish'd as night-wanderers often are, Their light blown out in some mistrustful wood; Even so confounded in the dark she lay, Having lost the fair discovery of her way. ”

“Whereat her tears began to turn their tide, Being prison'd in her eye, like pearls in glass; Yet sometimes falls an orient drop beside, Which her cheek melts, as scorning it should pass To wash the foul face of the sluttish ground, Who is but drunken when she seemeth drown'd.”

“Which after him she darts, as one on shore Gazing upon a late-embarked friend, Till the wild waves will have him seen no more, Whose ridges with the meeting clouds contend: So did the merciless and pitchy night Fold in the object that did feed her sight.”

“Who wears a garment shapeless and unfinish'd? Who plucks the bud before one leaf put forth? If springing things be any jot diminish'd, They wither in their prime, prove nothing worth;”

“Whose frothy mouth bepainted all with red, Like milk and blood being mingled both together, A second fear through all her sinews spread, Which madly hurries her she knows not whither: ”

“Wonder of time,' quoth she, 'this is my spite, That, you being dead, the day should yet be light.”

“Would they not wish the feast might ever last, And bid Suspicion double-lock the door, Lest Jealousy, that sour unwelcome guest, Should, by his stealing in, disturb the feast?' ”