Against that time, if ever that time come,
When I shall fee thee frown on my defects,
When as thy love hath cast his utmost sum,
Call'd to that audit by advised respects;
Against that time when thou shalt strangely pass,
And scarcely greet me with that sun, thine eye,
When love, converted from the thing it was,
Shall reasons find of settled gravity;
Against that time do I enfconce me here
Within the knowledge of mine own desert,
And this my hand against myself uprear,
To guard the lawful reasons on thy part:
To leave poor me thou hast the strength of laws,
Since why to love I can allege no cause.
How heavy do I journey on the way,
When what I feek, my weary travel's end,
Doth teach that ease and that repose to say,
'Thus far the miles are measured from thy friend!'
The beast that bears me, tired with my woe,
Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me,
As if by some instinct the wretch did know
His rider loved not speed, being made from thee:
The bloody fpur cannot provoke him on
That sometimes anger thrufts into his hide,
Which heavily he answers with a groan
More sharp to me than spurring to his fide;
For that fame groan doth put this in my
My grief lies onward, and my joy behind.
Thus can my love excufe the flow offence
Of my dull bearer when from thee I speed:
From where thou art why should I hafte me thence?
Till I return, of posting is no need.
O, what excufe will my poor beast then find,
When swift extremity can seem but slow?
Then should I fpur, though mounted on the wind,
In winged speed no motion shall I know:
Then can no horse with my defire keep pace;
Therefore defire, of perfect'ft love being made,
Shall neigh, no dull flesh in his fiery race;
But love, for love, thus fhall excuse my jade,-
'Since from thee going he went wilful-flow,
Towards thee I'll run and give him leave to go.'
So am I as the rich, whose blessed key
Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure,
The which he will not every hour survey,
For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.
Therefore are feafts fo folemn and fo rare,
Since, feldont coming, in the long year fet,
Like ftones of worth they thinly placed are,
Or captain jewels in the carcanet.
So is the time that keeps you as my cheft,
Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide,
To make some special inftant special bleft,
By new unfolding his imprison'd pride.
Blessed are you, whose worthiness gives scope,
Being had, to triumph; being lack'd, to hope.
What is your substance, whereof are you made,
That millions of strange shadows on you tend?
Since every one hath, every one, one shade,
And you, but one, can every shadow lend.
Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit
Is poorly imitated after you;
On Helen's cheek all art of beauty set,
And you in Grecian tires are painted new:
Speak of the spring and foison of the year,
The one doth shadow of your beauty show,
The other as your bounty doth appear;
you in every blessed shape we know.
In all external grace you have some part,
But you like none, none you, for constant heart.
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