No More Learning

_Leave to wait_, cease waiting.


477. UPON A LADY FAIR BUT FRUITLESS.

Twice has Pudica been a bride, and led
By holy Hymen to the nuptial bed.
Two youths she's known thrice two, and twice three years;
Yet not a lily from the bed appears:
Nor will; for why, Pudica this may know,
_Trees never bear unless they first do blow_.


478. HOW SPRINGS CAME FIRST.

These springs were maidens once that lov'd,
But lost to that they most approv'd:
My story tells by Love they were
Turn'd to these springs which we see here;
The pretty whimpering that they make,
When of the banks their leave they take,
Tells ye but this, they are the same,
In nothing chang'd but in their name.


479. TO ROSEMARY AND BAYS.

My wooing's ended: now my wedding's near
When gloves are giving, gilded be you there.


481. UPON A SCAR IN A VIRGIN'S FACE.

'Tis heresy in others: in your face
That scar's no schism, but the sign of grace.


482.
UPON HIS EYESIGHT FAILING HIM.

I begin to wane in sight;
Shortly I shall bid good-night:
Then no gazing more about,
When the tapers once are out.


483. TO HIS WORTHY FRIEND, M. THOS. FALCONBIRGE.

Stand with thy graces forth, brave man, and rise
High with thine own auspicious destinies:
Nor leave the search, and proof, till thou canst find
These, or those ends, to which thou wast design'd.
Thy lucky genius and thy guiding star
Have made thee prosperous in thy ways thus far:
Nor will they leave thee till they both have shown
Thee to the world a prime and public one.
Then, when thou see'st thine age all turn'd to gold,
Remember what thy Herrick thee foretold,
When at the holy threshold of thine house
_He boded good luck to thy self and spouse_.
Lastly, be mindful, when thou art grown great,
_That towers high rear'd dread most the lightning's threat:
Whenas the humble cottages not fear
The cleaving bolt of Jove the thunderer_.


484. UPON JULIA'S HAIR FILL'D WITH DEW.

Dew sat on Julia's hair
And spangled too,
Like leaves that laden are
With trembling dew:
Or glitter'd to my sight,
As when the beams
Have their reflected light
Danc'd by the streams.


485. ANOTHER ON HER.

How can I choose but love and follow her
Whose shadow smells like milder pomander?