44
COWLEY'S POEMS.
THE SAME.
For Heaven's sake, what d' you mean to do?
Keep me, or let me go, one of the two;
Youth and warm hours let me not idly lose,
The little time that Love does choose:
If always here I must not stay,
Let me be gone whilst yet ’tis day;
Lest I, faint and benighted, lose my way.
Keep me, or let me go, one of the two;
Youth and warm hours let me not idly lose,
The little time that Love does choose:
If always here I must not stay,
Let me be gone whilst yet ’tis day;
Lest I, faint and benighted, lose my way.
’Tis dismal, one so long to love
In vain; till to love more as vain must prove;
To hunt so long on nimble prey, till we
Too weary to take others be:
Alas! ’tis folly to remain,
And waste our army thus in vain,
Before a city which will ne'er be ta'en.
In vain; till to love more as vain must prove;
To hunt so long on nimble prey, till we
Too weary to take others be:
Alas! ’tis folly to remain,
And waste our army thus in vain,
Before a city which will ne'er be ta'en.
At several hopes wisely to fly,
Ought not to be esteem'd inconstancy;
’Tis more inconstant always to pursue
A thing that always flies from you;
For that at last may meet a bound,
But no end can to this be found,
’Tis nought but a perpetual fruitless round.
Ought not to be esteem'd inconstancy;
’Tis more inconstant always to pursue
A thing that always flies from you;
For that at last may meet a bound,
But no end can to this be found,
’Tis nought but a perpetual fruitless round.
When it does hardness meet, and pride,
My love does then rebound t' another side;
But, if it aught that 's soft and yielding hit,
It lodges there, and stays in it.
My love does then rebound t' another side;
But, if it aught that 's soft and yielding hit,
It lodges there, and stays in it.
