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| She'is all States, and all Princes, I, |
| Nothing else is. |
| Princes doe but play us, compar'd to this, |
| All honor's mimique; All wealth alchimie; |
| Thou sunne art halfe as happy'as wee, |
| In that the world's contracted thus. |
| Thine age askes ease, and since thy duties bee |
| To warme the world, that's done in warming us. |
| Shine here to us, and thou art every where; |
| This bed thy center is, these walls, thy spheare. |
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|
| The Indifferent. |
|
| I can love both faire and browne, |
| Her whom abundance melts, and her whom want betraies, |
| Her who loves lonenesse best, and her who maskes and plaies, |
| Her whō the country form'd, & whō the town, |
| Her who beleeves, and her who tries, |
| Her who still weepes with spungie eyes, |
| And her who is dry corke, and never cries; |
| I can love her, and her, and you and you, |
| I can love any, so she be not true. |
|
| Will no other vice content you? |
| Wil it not serve your turn to do, as did your mothers? |
| Or have you all old vices spent, and now would finde out others? |
| Or doth a feare, that men are true, torment you? |
| Oh we are not, be not you so, |
| Let mee, and doe you, twenty know.
|
[CW: Rob] |