RIch is the diamond, a gem of price; Yet such the nature strange is of the same, That who the powder thereof drinks, straight dies: And, as if poison 'twere, doth take his bane. So thou another precious jewel art; In name and nature not unmuch alike: Since death thou giv'st unto the loving heart; If but a kiss one sucks from thee most sweet. Whilst he doth swallow down his sugared bait; The joy's so great, it kills him through conceit.
XXI.
THe Grecians used to offer up their hair Unto their rivers: whom they did esteem As mighty gods; and them great honour bare, As if no virtue small in them had been. Do thou the like, sweet Laura, unto me! Who, for my love, deserves a greater fee. Thy golden tresses on me do bestow! Who hold whole rivers flowing in mine eyes: Yet would not I, thou off shouldst cut them though. Dost muse? and ask, How this thou may'st devise? I'll tell thee. Give thyself to me for mine! So shalt thou give, uncut, thy tresses fine.
XXII.
ONe lovely glance, which from the eyes did pass Of Lady mine, hath changed my gentle heart From hardest diamond to brittle glass: And now again (unto my bitter smart), Through dreadful frown, she turns it suddenly As 'twas before, from glass to diamond. So if She will, She may (and presently, As likes her) change me; who to her am bound. If cruel She; my heart is hard to break: If pitiful; 'tis gentle, brittle, weak.