Page:Works of Sir John Suckling.djvu/57

Rh shadow'd landskip, fare ye well: How I have lov'd you none can tell, At least, so well As he that now hates more Than e'er he lov'd before.

But, my dear nothings, take your leave: No longer must you me deceive, Since I perceive All the deceit, and know Whence the mistake did grow.

As he, whose quicker eye doth trace A false star shot to a mark'd place, Does run apace, And, thinking it to catch, A jelly up does snatch:

So our dull souls, tasting delight Far off, by sense and appetite, Think that is right And real good; when yet 'Tis but the counterfeit.

O, how I glory now, that I Have made this new discovery! Each wanton eye Inflam'd before: no more Will I increase that score.

If I gaze now, 'tis but to see What manner of death's-head 'twill be. When it is free From that fresh upper skin, The gazer's joy and sin.