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I had not taught thee then, the Alphabet |
Of flowers, how they devisefully being set, |
And bound up, might with speechless secrecy |
Deliver errands mutely, and mutually. |
Remember since, all thy words us'd to be |
To every suitor, I, If my friends agree. |
Since, houshold charms, thy husbands name to teach |
Were all the love tricks, that thy wit could reach: |
And since, an hours discourse could scarce have made |
One answer in thee, and that ill arrayed |
In broken proverbs, and torn sentences. |
Thou art not by so many duties his, |
(That from the worlds Common having sever'd thee, |
Inlaid thee, neither to be seen, nor see) |
As mine: who have with amorous delicacies |
Refin'd thee into a bliss-ful Paradise. |
Thy graces and good works my creatures be, |
I planted knowledg and lifes tree in thee: |
Which, Oh, shall strangers taste? Must I, alas, |
Frame and enamel Plate, and drink in glass? |
Chafe wax for others seales? break a colts force, |
And leave him then being made a ready horse? |
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Elegie. VIII. |
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As the sweet sweat of Roses in a Still, |
As that which from chaf'd Muskets pores doth trill, |
As the Almighty Balm of th'early East, |
Such are the sweat drops of my Mistris breast, |
And on her neck her skin such lustre sets, |
They seem no sweat drops, but pearl coronets. |
Rank sweaty froth thy Mistresses brow defiles, |
Like spermatique issue of ripe menstruous boyles.
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[CW: Or] |