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| At one first blowe, did shiver it as glass.| [f. 78] |
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| Yett nothing Can to nothing fall, |
| Nor any place be empty quite |
| Therefore I thinke my brest hath all |
| Those peeces still, though they be not vnite, |
| And now as broken glasses show, |
| A hundred lesser faces, soe |
| My rags of hart can like, wish, and adore, |
| But after one such loue, can, loue noe more.| |
|
| * |
| Stand still and I will read to thee |
| A lecture, loue, in loves philosophie, |
| Those three houres, wch we haue spent |
| In walking here, two shaddowes went, |
| Along with vs, wch we our selues producd; |
| But now the Sunne is iust aboue our heads |
| Wee doe those shaddowes tread. |
| And to braue Cleernes, all thinges are reducd, |
| So whiles our infant loue did grow, |
| Disguises did, and shaddowes flowe |
| From vs & our Care; But now tis not soe. |
| That loue hath not attaind the last* degree |
| Wch is still dilligent, least others see,.|
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[CW: Except] |