UPON A PAIRE OF GARTERS.

Go loveinge woode-bynde, clip with louely grace,
those two sweet plants which beare ye flowers of loue
Go silken vines, those tender elmes embrace,
Which flourish still, although their roots doe moue.
As soone as you possess your blessed places,
You are advancèd and ennobled more
Then dyodemes, which were white silken laces
That ancient kings about there forehead wore:
Sweete bands, take heed lest you vnge[n]tly bynd,
Or with your stricktnes make too deepe a print:
Was neuer tree had such a tinder rynd,
Although her inward hart be hard as flynt;
And let your knots be fast, and loose at will,
she must be free, though I stand bounden still.

[TO HIS LADY-LOVE.]

In this sweete booke, ye treasury of witt,
All virtues, beautyes, passions, written be:
And with such life they are sett forth in it
as still methinkes yt which I read I see.
But this booke's Mrs. is a liveing booke,
Which hath indeed those vertues in her mynde,
And in whose face though envey's selfe do looke,
Even envye's eye shall all those beautyes fynd.
Onely ye passions y are printed here,
In her calme thoughts can no impression make:
She will not love, nor hate, nor hope, nor feare,
Though others seeke theise passions for her sake.
So in ye sonne, some say there is no heate
though his reflecting beames doe fire begett.

[TOBACCO.][260]

Homer[261] of Moly and Nepenthe singes:
Moly, the gods most soveraigne hearbe divine.
Nepenth Hellen's[262] drink, which gladnes brings,—
Hart's greife repells, and doth ye witts refine.
But this our age another world hath found,
From whence an hearbe of heavenly power is brought:
Moly is not soe soveraigne for a wound
Nor hath Nepenth[e] so great wonders wrought.
It is tobacco: whose sweete subtile fume
The hellish torment of ye teeth doth ease,
By drawing downe and drieing up ye rume[263]
The mother and the nurse of each disease.[264]

ELEGIES OF LOUE.

Like as the diuers-fretchled[265] Butter-flye,
When Winter's frost is fallne upon his winge,
Hath onely left life's possibility,
and lies halfe dead untill the cherefull Spring: