No More Learning

92. THE BAG OF THE BEE.

About the sweet bag of a bee
Two cupids fell at odds,
And whose the pretty prize should be
They vow'd to ask the gods.

Which Venus hearing, thither came,
And for their boldness stripp'd them,
And, taking thence from each his flame,
With rods of myrtle whipp'd them.

Which done, to still their wanton cries,
When quiet grown she'd seen them,
She kiss'd, and wip'd their dove-like eyes,
And gave the bag between them.


93. LOVE KILLED BY LACK.

Let me be warm, let me be fully fed,
_Luxurious love by wealth is nourished_.
Let me be lean, and cold, and once grown poor,
I shall dislike what once I lov'd before.


94. TO HIS MISTRESS.

Choose me your valentine,
Next let us marry--
Love to the death will pine
If we long tarry.

Promise, and keep your vows,
Or vow ye never--
Love's doctrine disallows
Troth-breakers ever.

You have broke promise twice,
Dear, to undo me,
If you prove faithless thrice
None then will woo ye.


95.
TO THE GENEROUS READER.

See and not see, and if thou chance t'espy
Some aberrations in my poetry,
Wink at small faults; the greater, ne'ertheless,
Hide, and with them their father's nakedness.
Let's do our best, our watch and ward to keep;
Homer himself, in a long work, may sleep.


96. TO CRITICS.

I'll write, because I'll give
You critics means to live;
For should I not supply
The cause, th' effect would die.


97. DUTY TO TYRANTS.

Good princes must be pray'd for; for the bad
They must be borne with, and in rev'rence had.
Do they first pill thee, next pluck off thy skin?
_Good children kiss the rods that punish sin_.
Touch not the tyrant; let the gods alone
To strike him dead that but usurps a throne.

_Pill_, plunder.


98. BEING ONCE BLIND, HIS REQUEST TO BIANCA.

When age or chance has made me blind,
So that the path I cannot find,
And when my falls and stumblings are
More than the stones i' th' street by far,
Go thou afore, and I shall well
Follow thy perfumes by the smell;
Or be my guide, and I shall be
Led by some light that flows from thee.