| WHO ere she be, | |
| That not impossible she | |
| That shall command my heart and me; | |
| |
| Where ere she lye, | |
| Lock't up from mortall Eye, | 5 |
| In shady leaves of Destiny; | |
| |
| Till that ripe Birth | |
| Of studied fate stand forth, | |
| And teach her faire steps to our Earth; | |
| |
| Till that Divine | 10 |
| Idæa, take a shrine | |
| Of Chrystall flesh, through which to shine; | |
| |
| Meet you her my wishes, | |
| Bespeake her to my blisses, | |
| And be ye call'd my absent kisses. | 15 |
| |
| I wish her Beauty, | |
| That owes not all his Duty | |
| To gaudy Tire, or glistring shoo-ty. | |
| |
| Something more than | |
| Taffata or Tissew can, | 20 |
| Or rampant feather, or rich fan. | |
| |
| More than the spoyle | |
| Of shop, or silkewormes Toyle, | |
| Or a bought blush, or a set smile. | |
| |
| A face thats best | 25 |
| By its owne beauty drest, | |
| And can alone command the rest. | |
| |
| A face made up, | |
| Out of no other shop | |
| Than what natures white hand sets ope. | 30 |
| |
| A cheeke where Youth, | |
| And Blood, with Pen of Truth | |
| Write, what the Reader sweetly ru'th. | |
| |
| A Cheeke where growes | |
| More than a Morning Rose: | 35 |
| Which to no Boxe his being owes. | |
| |
| Lipps, where all Day | |
| A lovers kisse may play, | |
| Yet carry nothing thence away. | |
| |
| Lookes that oppresse | 40 |
| Their richest Tires, but dresse | |
| And cloath their simplest Nakednesse. | |
| |
| Eyes, that displaces | |
| The Neighbour Diamond, and out-faces | |
| That Sunshine, by their own sweet Graces. | 45 |
| |
| Tresses, that weare | |
| Jewells, but to declare | |
| How much themselves more pretious are. | |
| |
| Whose native Ray, | |
| Can tame the wanton Day | 50 |
| Of Gems, that in their bright shades play. | |
| |
| Each Ruby there, | |
| Or Pearle that dare appeare, | |
| Be its own blush, be its own Teare. | |
| |
| A well tam'd Heart, | 55 |
| For whose more noble smart, | |
| Love may be long chusing a Dart. | |
| |
| Eyes, that bestow | |
| Full quivers on loves Bow; | |
| Yet pay lesse Arrowes than they owe. | 60 |
| |
| Smiles, that can warme | |
| The blood, yet teach a charme, | |
| That Chastity shall take no harme. | |
| |
| Blushes, that bin | |
| The burnish of no sin, | 65 |
| Nor flames of ought too hot within. | |
| |
| Joyes, that confesse, | |
| Vertue their Mistresse, | |
| And have no other head to dresse. | |
| |
| Feares, fond and slight, | 70 |
| As the coy Brides, when Night | |
| First does the longing Lover right. | |
| |
| Teares, quickly fled, | |
| And vaine, as those are shed | |
| For a dying Maydenhead. | 75 |
| |
| Dayes, that need borrow, | |
| No part of their good Morrow, | |
| From a fore spent night of sorrow. | |
| |
| Dayes, that in spight | |
| Of Darkenesse, by the Light | 80 |
| Of a cleere mind are Day all Night. | |
| |
| Nights, sweet as they, | |
| Made short by Lovers play, | |
| Yet long by th' absence of the Day. | |
| |
| Life, that dares send | 85 |
| A challenge to his end, | |
| And when it comes say Welcome Friend. | |
| |
| Sydnæan showers | |
| Of sweet discourse, whose powers | |
| Can Crown old Winters head with flowers. | 90 |
| |
| Soft silken Hours, | |
| Open sunnes, shady Bowers; | |
| 'Bove all, Nothing within that lowers. | |
| |
| What ere Delight | |
| Can make Dayes forehead bright, | 95 |
| Or give Downe to the Wings of Night. | |
| |
| In her whole frame, | |
| Have Nature all the Name, | |
| Art and ornament the shame. | |
| |
| Her flattery, | 100 |
| Picture and Poesy, | |
| Her counsell her owne vertue be. | |
| |
| I wish, her store | |
| Of worth may leave her poore | |
| Of wishes; And I wish——No more. | 105 |
| |
| Now if Time knowes | |
| That her whose radiant Browes | |
| Weave them a Garland of my vowes, | |
| |
| Her whose just Bayes, | |
| My future hopes can raise, | 110 |
| A trophie to her present praise; | |
| |
| Her that dares be, | |
| What these Lines wish to see: | |
| I seeke no further, it is she. | |
| |
| 'Tis she, and here | 115 |
| Lo I uncloath and cleare, | |
| My wishes cloudy Character. | |
| |
| May she enjoy it, | |
| Whose merit dare apply it, | |
| But Modesty dares still deny it. | 120 |
| |
| Such worth as this is | |
| Shall fixe my flying wishes, | |
| And determine them to kisses. | |
| |
| Let her full Glory, | |
| My fancyes, fly before ye, | 125 |
| Be ye my fictions; But her story. | |
| |
