IX. Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye The world will wail thee, like a makeless wife ; No love toward others in that bofom fits That on himself fuch murderous fhame commits. X. For fhame! deny that thou bear'st love to any, Grant, if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many, Which to repair should be thy chief defire. O, change thy thought, that I may change my mind! Be, as thy presence is, gracious and kind, XI. As faft as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow'st If all were minded fo, the times fhould cease XII. When I do count the clock that tells the time, And fable curls all filver'd o'er with white; That thou among the wastes of time must go, [fence And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make deSave breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence. XIII. O, that you were yourself! but, love, you are Yourself again, after yourself's decease, When your fweet iffue your fweet form fhould bear. Which husbandry in honour might uphold And barren rage of death's eternal cold? O, none but unthrifts! Dear my love, you know |