No More Learning

O y^t myne eyes, o that myne hart
Were both enlarged to contayne
the beames & ioyes shee doth impart,
whilst shee this bowre doth not disdayne; 20
this bowre vnfit for such a gueste,
but since she makes it now her Inn,
Would god twere like her sacred breast
most fayre w^{th}out, most rich w^{th}in.


[<My Love. > _Ed_: _no title and no punctuation_, _Bur_]

[4 wane _Ed_: weane _Bur_]

[12 never _Ed_: ne're _Bur_]




<_O Eyes! _>

O Eyes, what do you see?
O eares what do you heare?
that makes y^o wish to bee
All eyes or else all eare?
I see a face as fayre 5
As mans eye ever saw,
I here as sweet an ayre
as y^t w^{ch} rocks did draw,
I wish, when in such wise
I see or heare y^e same, 10
I had all Argus eyes
or else y^e eare<s> of fame.


[<O Eyes! > _Ed_: _no title and no punctuation_, _Bur_]

[12 eare<s> _Ed_: eare _Bur_:

Cui, quot sunt corpore plumae,
Tot vigiles oculi subter, mirabile dictu,
Tot linguae, totidem ora sonant, _tot subrigit auris_.

Virgil: _Aen. _ iv. 181-3.
]




<_Silence Best Praise. _>

Comend her? no.
I dare not terme her fayre,
nor sugred sweet, nor tall, nor louely browne;
suffice it y^t she is w^{th}out compare;
but how, I dare not tell lest she should frowne.
but those parts <least> w^{ch} others make theyre pryde, 5
and feed there fancies w^{th} devised lyes;
giue me but leaue to pull my saint asyde,
and tell her in her eare that she is wise.
to write of beauties rare ther is noe art,
for why tis common to there sex & kind, 10
but making choice of natures better part
my Muse doth most desire to prayse her mind.
But as her vertue<s> clayme a crowne of bayes,
So manners makes me sylent in her prayse.


[<Silence Best Praise. > _Ed_: _no title_, _Bur_]

[1 fayre, _Ed_: fayre _Bur_]

[2 sweet, . . . tall, . . . browne; _Ed_: _no stops_, _Bur_]

[3 compare; _Ed_: compare _Bur_]

[4 frowne. _Ed_: frowne _Bur_]

[5 <least> _Ed_: lest _Bur_

pryde, _Ed_: pryde _Bur_]

[6 lyes; _Ed_: lyes _Bur_]

[7 asyde, _Ed_: asyde _Bur_]

[8 wise. _Ed_: wise _Bur_]

[9-10 art, . . .