Cannot be heard so high: I'll look no more;
Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight
Topple* down headlong.

34_iv. 6.

90

The dreadful summit of the cliff, That beetlest o'er his base into the sea, The very place puts toyst of desperation, Without more motive, into every brain, That looks so many fathoms to the sea, And hears it roar beneath.

36-i. 4.

91

From the dread summit of this chalky bourn :
Look up a-height; the shrill-gorged || lark so far
Cannot be seen or heard.

34-iv. 6.

92 These things seem small and undistinguishable, Like far-off mountains turned into clouds. 7-iv. 1.

93 Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court ? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, The season's difference; as, the icy fang, And churlish chiding of the winter's wind; Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say, This is no flattery: these are counsellors, That feelingly persuade me what I am.

And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues ip trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.

10_ii. 1. 94

Pacing through the forest, Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy, Lo, what befel ! he threw his eye aside,

And, mark, what object did present itself!
Under an oak, whose boughs were moss'd with age,
And high top bald with dry antiquity,
A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair,
Lay sleeping on his back: about his neck
A green and gilded snake had wreath'd itself,
Who with her head, nimble in threats, approach'd
The opening of his mouth; but suddenly
Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itself,
And with indented glides did slip away
Into a bush: under which bush's shade
A lioness, with udders all drawn dry,
Lay couching, head on ground, with cat-like watch,
When that the sleeping man should stir; for 'tis
The royal disposition of that beast,
To prey on nothing, that doth seem as dead :
This seen, Orlando did approach the man,
And found it was his brother.

10-iv. 3.

95 Natural graces, that extinguish art. 21-v. 3.

96 0, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop’s* ear: Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!

35-i. 5.

97 Her stature, as wand-like straight; As silver-voiced: her eyes as jewel-like, And cased as richly: in pace another Juno; Who starves the ears she feeds, and makes them

hungry, The more she gives them speech.

33-v. 1.

98

Her lily hand her rosy cheek lies under,
Cozening the pillow of a lawful kiss ;

a

Without the bed her other fair hand was,
On the green coverlet: whose perfect white
Show'd like an April daisy on the grass,
With pearly sweat, resembling dew of night.
Her eyes like marigolds, had sheath'd their light;
And, canopied in darkness, sweetly lay,
Till they might open to adorn the day.

Poems.

99 Fair ladies, mask'd, are roses in their bud : Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture shown, Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown. 8-v. 2.

100

Her sunny locks Hang on her temples like a golden fleece. 9—i. 1.

101 That whiter skin of hers than snow, And smooth as monumental alabaster. 37-. 2.

102

a

You seem to me as Dian in her orb;
As chaste as is the bud, ere it be blown. 6-iv. 1.

103

She looks as clear
As morning roses newly wash'd with dew. 12- ii. 1.

104
Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good,
A shining gloss, that fadeth suddenly;
A flower that dies, when first it 'gins to bud;
A brittle glass, that's broken presently ;
A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower,
Lost, faded,

broken, dead within an hour.
And as good lost, is seld or never found,
As faded gloss no rubbing will refresh,
As flowers dead, lie wither'd on the ground,
As broken glass no cement can redress,
So beauty blemish'd once, for ever's lost,
In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost. Poems.

105

The fringed curtains of thine eye.

1-i. 2

106

I saw sweet beauty in her face,
Such as the daughter* of Agenor had,
That made great Jove to humble him to her hand,
When with his knees he kiss'd the Cretan strand.

I saw her coral lips to move,
And with her breath she did perfume the air :
Sacred and sweet, was all I saw in her. 12-i. I.

107

I have not seen So likely an ambassador of love : A day in April never came so sweet, To show how costly summer was at hand, As this fore-spurrer comes before his lord. 9_ii. 9.

108
If she be made of white and red,

Her faults will ne'er be known;
For blushing cheeks by faults are bred,

And fears by pale-white shown:
Then, if she fear, or be to blame,

By this you shall not know,
For still her cheeks possess the same,

Which native she doth owe.

8-i. 2.

109

She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i’ the bud, Feed on her damask cheek : she pined in thought ; And, with a green and yellow melancholy, She sat (like Patience on a monument) Smiling at grief.

4-ii. 4.

110

Thine eye would emulate the diamond.

111
My beauty, though but mean,
Needs not the painted flourish of your praise ;
Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye,
Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's* tongues.

8-ii. 1.

112 Thou tell'st me, there is murder in mine eye: "Tis pretty, sure, and very probable, That eyes,—that are the frail'st and softest things, Who shut their coward gates on atomies, Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers !

10—iii. 5. 113

Move these eyes ? Or whether, riding on the balls of mine, Seem they in motion ? Here are sever'd lips, Parted with sugar breath ; so sweet a bar Should sunder such sweet friends: Here in her hairs The painter plays the spider; and hath woven A golden mesh to entrap the hearts of men, Faster than gnats in cobwebs : But her eyes,How could he see to do them ? having made one, Methinks it should have power to steal both his, And leave itself unfurnish’d.

9-iii. 2. 114

Fairest ladyWhat! are men mad ? hath nature given them eyes To see this vaulted arch, and the rich crop Of sea and land, which can distinguish 'twixt The fiery orbs above, and the twinn'd stonest Upon the number'd beach ? and can we not Partition make with spectacles so precious Twixt fair and foul ?

31-i. 7. 115

He hath achieved a maid, That paragons description, and wild fame;