Page:Works of Sir John Suckling.djvu/89

Rh Was useless in our conversation, Where each meant more than could by both be said. Whence hadst thou thy intelligence; from earth? That part of us ne'er knew that we did love. Or from the air? Our gentle sighs had birth From such sweet raptures as to joy did move. Our thoughts, as pure as the chaste morning's breath, When from the night's cold arms it creeps away, Were cloth'd in words and maiden's blush that hath More purity, more innocence than they. Nor from the water couldst thou have this tale: No briny tear hath furrow'd her smooth cheek; And I was pleas'd: I pray what should he ail That had her love, for what else could he seek? We short'ned days to moments by love's art, Whilst our two souls in amorous extasy Perceiv'd no passing time, as if a part Our love had been of still eternity. Much less could have it from the purer fire: Our heat exhales no vapour from coarse sense. Such as are hopes, or fears, or fond desires; Our mutual love itself did recompense. Thou hast no correspondency in heaven, And th' elemental world thou seest is free: Whence hadst thou then this talking, monster? even From hell, a harbour fit for it and thee. Curst be th' officious tongue that did address Thee to her ears, to ruin my content: May it one minute taste such happiness, Deserving lose 't, unpitied it lament! I must forbear her sight, and so repay In grief those hours joy shortened to a dram: Each minute I will lengthen to a day, And in one year outlive Methusalem.

decrees, that do at once exact From such a love as worthy hearts should own So wild a passion, And yet so tame a presence As, holding no proportion, Changes into impossible obedience.