188
GONDIBERT,
55.
When low I dig, where desart-Rivers run,
Dive deep in Seas, through Forrests follow winds,
Or reach with Optick Tubes the ragged Moon,
My sight no cause of Love's swift motion finds.
When low I dig, where desart-Rivers run,
Dive deep in Seas, through Forrests follow winds,
Or reach with Optick Tubes the ragged Moon,
My sight no cause of Love's swift motion finds.
56.
Love's fatal haste, in yours, I will not blame,
Because I know not why his wings were giv'n;
Nor doubt him true, not knowing whence he came,
Nor Birtha chide, who thought you came from Heav'n.
Love's fatal haste, in yours, I will not blame,
Because I know not why his wings were giv'n;
Nor doubt him true, not knowing whence he came,
Nor Birtha chide, who thought you came from Heav'n.
57.
If you lay snares, we erre when we escape;
Since evil practise learns Men to suspect
Where falshood is, and in your noble shape,
We should by finding it, our skill detect.
If you lay snares, we erre when we escape;
Since evil practise learns Men to suspect
Where falshood is, and in your noble shape,
We should by finding it, our skill detect.
58.
Yet both your griefs I'le chide, as ignorance;
Call you unthankfull; for your great griefs show
That Heav'n has never us'd you to mischance,
Yet rudely you repine to feel it now.
Yet both your griefs I'le chide, as ignorance;
Call you unthankfull; for your great griefs show
That Heav'n has never us'd you to mischance,
Yet rudely you repine to feel it now.
59.
If your contextures be so weak, and nice,
Weep that this windy world you ever knew;
You are not in those Calms of Paradice,
Where slender Flow'rs as safe as Cedars grew.
If your contextures be so weak, and nice,
Weep that this windy world you ever knew;
You are not in those Calms of Paradice,
Where slender Flow'rs as safe as Cedars grew.
60.
This which your Youth calls grief, was frowardness
In flatter'd Infancy, and as you bear
Unkindly now amidst Youth's joys distress,
So then, unless still rock'd, you froward were.
This which your Youth calls grief, was frowardness
In flatter'd Infancy, and as you bear
Unkindly now amidst Youth's joys distress,
So then, unless still rock'd, you froward were.
61.
Griefs conflicts gave these Hairs their silver shine;
(Torn Ensigns which victorious Age adorn)
Youth is a Dress too garish, and too fine
To be in foul tempestuous weather worn.
Griefs conflicts gave these Hairs their silver shine;
(Torn Ensigns which victorious Age adorn)
Youth is a Dress too garish, and too fine
To be in foul tempestuous weather worn.
Grief's
