|
| My body'a sack of bones, broken within, |
| And powders blew staines scatter'd on my skinne; |
| If rivall fooles taxe thee to'have lov'd a man, |
| So foule, and coarse, as, Oh, I may seeme than, |
| This shall say what I was: and thou shalt say, |
| Doe his hurts reach me? doth my worth decay? |
| Or doe they reach his judging minde, that he |
| Should now love lesse, what he did love to see? |
| That which in him was faire and delicate, |
| Was but the milke, which in loves childish state |
| Did nurse it: who now is growne strong enough |
| To feed on that, which to disus'd tasts seemes tough. |
|
| Eleg. VI. |
|
| Oh, let me not serve so, as those men serve, |
| Whom honors smoaks at once fatten and sterve; |
| Poorely enrich't with great mens words or lookes; |
| Nor so write my name in thy loving bookes |
| As those Idolatrous flatterers, which still |
| Their Princes stiles, which many Realmes fulfill |
| Whence they no tribute have, and where no sway. |
| Such services I offer as shall pay |
| Themselves, I hate dead names: Oh then let me |
| Favorite in Ordinary, or no favorite bee. |
| When my soule was in her own body sheath'd; |
| Not yet by oathes betroath'd, nor kisses breath'd |
| Into my Purgatory, faithlesse thee, |
| Thy heart seem'd waxe, and steele thy constancy:
|
[CW: So,] |