Page:Shakespeare Collection of Poems.djvu/53

Whereon with fearful Eyes they long have gazed,
Infusing them with dreadful prophecies,
So she, at these sad signs, draws up her breath,
And, sighing it again, exclaims on death.

Hard-favoured Tyrant, ugly, meagre, lean,
Hateful divorce of Love (thus chides she Death)
Grim-grinning Ghost, earths worm, what dost thou mean,
To stifle beauty, and to steal his breath?
Who when he liv'd, his breath and beauty set
Gloss on the Rose, smell to the Violet.

If he be dead, O no; it cannot be,
Seeing his beauty, thou shouldst strike at it.
O yes, it may: thou hast no eyes to see,
But hatefully at random dost thou hit.
Thy Mark is feeble age; but thy false dart
Mistakes that aim, and cleaves an Infants heart.

Hadst thou but bid beware, then he had spoke,
And hearing him, thy power had lost his power:
The destinies will curse thee for this stroke,
They bid thee crop a weed, thou pluckest a flower:
Loves golden arrow at him should have fled,
And not Deaths Ebon Dart to strike him dead.

Dost thou drink tears, that thou provok'st such weeping?
What may a heavy groan advantage thee?
Why hast thou cast into eternal sleeping
Those eyes that taught all other eyes to see?

Now