;

    But t,

    e, nor love,

    But one, and ther prove,

    As we s.

    If t first ure had

    Made her good or bad,

    t e, and some choose ;

    But since se,

    t e,

    Only ts, all all may use.

    If t would be seen ;

    Good is as visible as green,

    And to all eyes itself betrays.

    If t last ;

    Bad dotself, and ote ;

    So they deserve nor blame, nor praise.

    But ts are ours ;

    but tastes,  devours,

    And  leaves all, doth as well ;

    C cs of meat ;

    And w,

    fling ahe shell?

    I SCARCE believe my love to be so pure

    As I  it was,

    Because it doth endure

    Vicissitude, and season, as the grass ;

    Meter, when I swore

    My love e, if spring make it more.

    But if this medicine, love, which cures all sorrow

    it only be no quintessence,

    But mixd of all stuffs, vexing soul, or sense,

    And of tive vigour borrow,

    Love抯 not so pure, and abstract as they use

    to say,  their Muse ;

    But as all else, being elemented too,

    Love sometimes emplate, sometimes do.

    And yet no greater, but more eminent,

    Love by the spring is grown ;

    As in t

    Stars by t enlarged, but shown,

    Gentle love deeds, as blossoms on a bough,

    From loves a do bud out now.

    If, as in er stirrd more circles be

    Produced by one, love sucions take,

    t one heaven make,

    For tric