No More Learning

_The Dreame. _

Image of her whom I love, more then she,
Whose faire impression in my faithfull heart,
Makes mee her _Medall_, and makes her love mee,
As Kings do coynes, to which their stamps impart
The value: goe, and take my heart from hence, 5
Which now is growne too great and good for me:
_Honours_ oppresse weake spirits, and our sense
Strong objects dull; the more, the lesse wee see.
When you are gone, and _Reason_ gone with you,
Then _Fantasie_ is Queene and Soule, and all; 10
She can present joyes meaner then you do;
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; 15
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. 20
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.
Fill'd with her love, may I be rather grown 25
Mad with much _heart_, then _ideott_ with none.


[Eleg. X. The Dreame. _1635-54:_ Elegie X. _1669:_ Elegie.
_1633:_ Picture. _S96:_ Elegie.
_or no title_, _A18_, _B_,
_D_, _H40_, _H49_, _L74_, _Lec_, _N_, _O'F_, _P_, _S_, _S96_,
_TCC_, _TCD_]

[7 sense] sense, _1633_]

[8 dull; _1635-69:_ dull, _1633_]

[16 out] up _B_, _P_, _S_]

[17 a such _1633-54:_ such a _1669_]

[22 _dreame_] _dreams_ _1669_]




ELEGIE XI.

_The Bracelet. _

_Vpon the losse of his Mistresses Chaine, for which he made
satisfaction. _

Not that in colour it was like thy haire,
For Armelets of that thou maist let me weare:
Nor that thy hand it oft embrac'd and kist,
For so it had that good, which oft I mist:
Nor for that silly old moralitie, 5
That as these linkes were knit, our love should bee:
Mourne I that I thy seavenfold chaine have lost;
Nor for the luck sake; but the bitter cost.
O, shall twelve righteous Angels, which as yet
No leaven of vile soder did admit; 10
Nor yet by any way have straid or gone
From the first state of their Creation;
Angels, which heaven commanded to provide
All things to me, and be my faithfull guide;
To gaine new friends, t'appease great enemies; 15
To comfort my soule, when I lie or rise;
Shall these twelve innocents, by thy severe
Sentence (dread judge) my sins great burden beare?
Shall they be damn'd, and in the furnace throwne,
And punisht for offences not their owne? 20
They save not me, they doe not ease my paines,
When in that hell they'are burnt and tyed in chains.
Were they but Crownes of France, I cared not,
For, most of these, their naturall Countreys rot
I think possesseth, they come here to us, 25
So pale, so lame, so leane, so ruinous;
And howsoe'r French Kings most Christian be,
Their Crownes are circumcis'd most Iewishly.
Or were they Spanish Stamps, still travelling,
That are become as Catholique as their King, 30
Those unlickt beare-whelps, unfil'd pistolets
That (more than Canon shot) availes or lets;
Which negligently left unrounded, looke
Like many angled figures, in the booke
Of some great Conjurer that would enforce 35
Nature, as these doe justice, from her course;
Which, as the soule quickens head, feet and heart,
As streames, like veines, run through th'earth's every part,
Visit all Countries, and have slily made
Gorgeous _France_, ruin'd, ragged and decay'd; 40
_Scotland_, which knew no State, proud in one day:
And mangled seventeen-headed _Belgia_.
Or were it such gold as that wherewithall
Almighty _Chymiques_ from each minerall,
Having by subtle fire a soule out-pull'd; 45
Are dirtely and desperately gull'd:
I would not spit to quench the fire they'are in,
For, they are guilty of much hainous Sin.
But, shall my harmlesse angels perish? Shall
I lose my guard, my ease, my food, my all? 50
Much hope which they should nourish will be dead,
Much of my able youth, and lustyhead
Will vanish; if thou love let them alone,
For thou wilt love me lesse when they are gone;
And be content that some lowd squeaking Cryer 55
Well-pleas'd with one leane thred-bare groat, for hire,
May like a devill roare through every street;
And gall the finders conscience, if they meet.
Or let mee creepe to some dread Conjurer,
That with phantastique scheames fils full much paper; 60
Which hath divided heaven in tenements,
And with whores, theeves, and murderers stuft his rents,
So full, that though hee passe them all in sinne,
He leaves himselfe no roome to enter in.
But if, when all his art and time is spent, 65
Hee say 'twill ne'r be found; yet be content;
Receive from him that doome ungrudgingly,
Because he is the mouth of destiny.
Thou say'st (alas) the gold doth still remaine,
Though it be chang'd, and put into a chaine; 70
So in the first falne angels, resteth still
Wisdome and knowledge; but,'tis turn'd to ill:
As these should doe good works; and should provide
Necessities; but now must nurse thy pride.