THE FLEA.
MARK but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou de me is ;
It suckd me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be.
Thou knowst that this ot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead ;
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pamperd swells with one blood made of two ;
And this, alas ! is more than we would do.
O stay, three lives in one flea spare,
Where we almost, yea, more than married are.
This flea is you and I, and this
Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is.
Though parents grudge, and you, were met,
And cloisterd in these living walls of jet.
Though use make you apt to kill me,
Let not to that self-murder added be,
And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.
Cruel and sudden, hast thou since
Purpled thy nail in blood of innoce?
Wherein could this flea guilty be,
Except in that drop which it suckd from thee?
Yet thou triumphst, and sayst that thou
Findst not thyself nor me the weaker now.
Tis true ; then learn how false fears be ;
Just so much honour, when thou yieldst to me,
Will waste, as this fleas death took life from thee.
THE GOOD-MORROW.
I WONDER by my troth, what thou and I
Did, till we loved ? were we not weand till then ?
But suckd on try pleasures, childishly ?
Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers den ?
Twas so ; but this, all pleasures fancies be ;
If ever ay I did see,
Which I desired, and got, twas but a dream of thee.
And now good-morrow to our waking souls,
Which watot one another out of fear ;
For love all love of hts trols,
And makes otle room an everywhere.
Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone ;
Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown ;
Let us possess one world ; each hath one, and is one.
My fa thine eye, thine in mine appears,
And true plais do in the faces rest ;
Where we find two better hemispheres
Without sharp north, without dei ?
Whatever dies, was not mixd equally ;
If our two loves be one, or thou and I
Love so alike that none sla, none die.
SONG.
GO and catch a falling star,
Get with child a mandrake root,
Tell me where all past years are,
Or who cleft the devils foot,
Teach me to hear mermaids singing,
Or to keep off envys stinging,
And find
What wind
Serves to advan ho mind.
If thou best born te sights,
Things invisible to see,
Ride ten thousand days and nights,
Till age snow white hairs on thee,
Thou, when thou returnst, wilt tell me,
All strange wohat befell thee,
And swear,
No where
Lives a woman true and fair.
If thou findst one, let me know,
Such a pilgrimage were sweet;
Yet do not, I would not go,
Though at door we might meet,
Though she were true, when you met her,
And last, till you write your letter,
Yet she
Will be
False, ere I e, to two, or three.
WOMANS STANCY.
NOW thou hast loved me one whole day,
To-morrow when thou leavest, what wilt thou say ?
Wilt thou then ae some new-made vow ?
Or say that now
We are not just those persons which we were ?
Or that oaths made in reverential fear
Of Love, and his wrath, any m