|
| Eleg. X. |
| The Dreame. |
|
| Image of her whom I love, more than she, |
| Whose faire impression in my faithfull heart, |
| Makes mee her Medall, and makes her love me, |
| As Kings doe coynes, to which their stamps impart |
| The value: goe, and take my heart from hence, |
| Which now is growne too great and good for me: |
| Honours oppresse weake spirits, and our sense |
| Strong objects dull; the more, the lesse we see. |
| When you are gone, and Reason gone with you, |
| Then Fantasie is Queene and Soule, and all; |
| She can present joyes meaner than you doe; |
| Convenient, and more proportionall. |
| So, if I dreame I have you, I have you, |
| For, all our joyes are but fantasticall. |
| And so I scape the paine, for paine is true; |
| And sleepe which locks up sense, doth lock out all. |
| After a such fruition I shall wake, |
| And, but the waking, nothing shall repent; |
| And shall to love more thankfull Sonnets make, |
| Then if more honour, teares, and paines were spent. |
| But dearest heart, and dearer Image stay; |
| Alas, true joyes at best are dreame enough; |
| Though you stay here you passe too fast away: |
| For even at first lifes Taper is a snuffe.
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[CW: Fill'd] |