Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/375

 327. Why so Pale and Wan?

Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale?

Why so dull and mute, young sinner? Prithee, why so mute? Will, when speaking well can't win her, Saying nothing do't?       Prithee, why so mute?

Quit, quit for shame! This will not move; This cannot take her. If of herself she will not love, Nothing can make her: The devil take her!

328. When, Dearest, I but think of Thee

When, dearest, I but think of thee, Methinks all things that lovely be Are present, and my soul delighted: For beauties that from worth arise Are like the grace of deities, Still present with us, tho' unsighted.

Thus while I sit and sigh the day With all his borrow'd lights away, Till night's black wings do overtake me, Thinking on thee, thy beauties then, As sudden lights do sleepy men, So they by their bright rays awake me.