| |
| BASE Love, the stain of youth, the scorn of age, | |
| The folly of a man, a woman’s rage; | |
| The canker of a froward will thou art, | |
| The business of an idle empty heart; | |
| The rack of jealousy and sad Mistrust, | 5 |
| The smooth and justified excuse of lust; | |
| The thief which wastes the taper of our life; | |
| The quiet name of restless jars and strife; | |
| The fly which dost corrupt and quite distaste | |
| All happiness if thou therein be cast; | 10 |
| The greatest and the most conceal’d impostor | |
| That ever vain credulity did foster; | |
| A mountebank extolling trifles small, | |
| A juggler playing loose, not fast with all; | |
| An alchemist, whose promises are gold, | 15 |
| Payment but dross, and hope at highest sold. | |
| This, this is Love, and worse than I can say. | |
| When he a master is, and bears the sway, | |
| He guides like Phaeton, burns and destroys, | |
| Parches and stifles what would else be joys. | 20 |
| But when clear Reason, sitting in the throne, | |
| Governs his beams—which otherwise are none | |
| But darts and mischiefs—oh, then, sunlike, he | |
| Doth actuate, produce, ripen and free | |
| From grossness, those good seeds which in us lie | 25 |
| Till then as in a grave, and there would die. | |
| All high perfections in a perfect lover | |
| His warmth does cherish, and his light discover. | |
| He gives an even temper of delight | |
| Without a minute’s loss; nor fears affright | 30 |
| Nor interrupt the joys such love doth bring, | |
| Nor no enjoying can dry up the spring. | |
| Unto another he lends out our pleasure, | |
| That—with the use—it may come home a treasure. | |
| Pure link of bodies where no lust controls, | 35 |
| The fastness and security of souls! | |
| Sweetest path of life, virtue in full sail, | |
| Tree-budding hope whose fruit doth never fail! | |
| To this dear love I do no rebel stand, | |
| Though not employ’d, yet ready at command. | 40 |
| Wherefore, O Reason high, thou who art king | |
| Of the world’s king, and dost in order bring | |
| The wild affections, which so often swerve | |
| From the just rule, and rebel passions serve; | |
| Thou without whose light love’s fire is but smoke, | 45 |
| Which puts out eyes and mind’s true sense doth choke; | |
| Restore this lover to himself again, | |
| Send him a lively feeling of his pain, | |
| Give him a healthy and discerning taste | |
| Of food and rest, that he may rest at last, | 50 |
| By strength of thee, from his strange strong disease, | |
| Wherein the danger is that it doth please. | |
| Grant this, O Reason, at his deep’st request | |
| Who never loved to see your power suppress’d. | |
| And now to you, Sir Love, your love I crave; | 55 |
| Of you no mastery I desire to have. | |
| But that we may, like honest friends, agree, | |
| Let us to Reason fellow-servants be. | |
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