p.
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If that bee simply perfectest, Which cann by noe waie bee exprest But Negatiues, my loue is soe To all which all loue, I saie no If any who decipher best, What wee knowe not our selues can know Let him teach mee that nothing: this As yett my ease and comfort is, Though I speed not I, cannot misse. Lett mee powre forth My teares before thy face, while I staye heere For thy stampe ioynes them, and thy stamp they beare, And by this Mintage they are some thinge worth; For thus they bee Pregnant of thee, Fruites of mvch griefe they are; Emblemes of more: When a teare falls that thou falls which itt bore So thou and I are nothinge then when on a diuers shore. On a round ball A workeman that hath copies by can laie An Europe, Affrick, and an Asia, And quickly make that which was nothing all Soe doth each teare Which shee doth weare A Globe, yea world, by that impression grow Till thy teares mixt with myne doe overflow This world, by water sent from thee, my heauen dissolued soe. [CW: O more] |
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