"GRant, fairest kind, a kiss unto thy friend!" A blush replied; and yet a kiss I had. It is not heaven that can such nectar send; Whereat my senses, all amazed, were glad. This done, She fled as one that was afraid; And I desired to kiss, by kissing more. My Love, she frowned; and I my kissing stayed: Yet wished to kiss her as I did before. Then as the vine, the propping elm doth clasp, Loth to depart, till both together die; So fold me, Sweet; until my latest gasp! That in thy arms, to death I kissed, may lie. Thus whilst I live, for kisses I must call: Still kiss me, Sweet, or kiss me not at all!
SONNET XVII.
AS are the sands, fair Licia, on the shore; Or coloured flowers, garlands of the Spring; Or as the frosts not seen nor felt before; Or as the fruits that Autumn forth doth bring; As twinkling stars, the tinsel of the night; Or as the fish that gallop in the seas; As airs, each part that still escapes our sight: So are my Sighs, controllers of my ease. Yet these are such as needs must have an end, For things finite, none else hath Nature done: Only the sighs which from my heart I send Will never cease, but where they first began. Accept them, Sweet, as incense due to thee! For you immortal made them so to be.
SONNET XVIII.
I swear, fair Licia, still for to be thine; By heart, by eyes, by what I hold most dear! Thou checkedst mine oath, and said, "These were not mine; And that I had no right by them to swear." Then by my sighs, my passions, and my tears, My vows, my prayers, my sorrow, and my love, My grief, my joy, my hope, and hopeless fears My heart is thine, and never shall remove! These are not thine, though sent unto thy view; All else I grant, by right they are thine own. Let these suffice, that what I swear is true; And more than this, if that it could be known. So shall all these, though troubles, ease my grief, If that they serve to work in thee belief.