Cannot be heard so high: I'll look no more; 90 The dreadful summit of the cliff, That beetlest o'er his base into the sea, The very place puts toys of desperation, Without more motive, into every brain, That looks so many fathoms to the sea, And hears it roar beneath. 91 34-iv. 6. 36-i. 4. From the dread summit of this chalky bourn :§ 92 34-iv. 6. These things seem small and undistinguishable, 93 7-iv. 1. Hath not old custom made this life more sweet And this our life, exempt from public haunt, 94 Pacing through the forest, Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy, Lo, what befel! he threw his eye aside, 10-ii. 1. Whims. 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 Lay couching, head on ground, with cat-like watch, To prey on nothing, that doth seem as dead: 95 10-iv. 3. Natural graces, that extinguish art. 21-v. 3. 96 O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! 97 Her stature, as wand-like straight; As silver-voiced: her eyes as jewel-like, And cased as richly in pace another Juno; : 35-i. 5. Who starves the ears she feeds, and makes them Her lily hand her rosy cheek lies under, 33-v. 1. Without the bed her other fair hand was, 99 Fair ladies, mask'd, are roses in their bud: Poems. Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture shown, 8-v. 2. You seem to me as Dian in her orb; 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, And as good lost, is seld or never found, Poems. 105 The fringed curtains of thine eye. 106 I saw sweet beauty in her face, Such as the daughter* of Agenor had, I—i. 2. That made great Jove to humble him to her hand, And with her breath she did perfume the air: Sacred and sweet, was all I saw in her. 107 I have not seen So likely an ambassador of love : A day in April never came so sweet, 108 If she be made of white and red, For still her cheeks possess the same, 109 She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, 12-i. 1. 9-ii. 9. 8-i. 2. Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought; 111 My beauty, though but mean, Needs not the painted flourish of your praise; 112 Thou tell'st me, there is murder in mine eye: "Tis pretty, sure, and very probable, 8-ii. 1. That eyes, that are the frail'st and softest things, Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers! 113 Move these eyes? Or whether, riding on the balls of mine, 10-iii. 5. Should sunder such sweet friends: Here in her hairs 9-iii. 2. 114 Fairest lady— What! are men mad? hath nature given them eyes 115 He hath achieved a maid, That paragons description, and wild fame; *Chapman, is market-man. 31-i. 7. †The pebbles on the sea shore are so much of the same size and shape, that twinn'd may mean as like as twins. |