And died to kiss his shadow in the brook. 'Art thou asham'd to kiss? then wink again, And I will wink; so shall the day seem night; Love keeps his revels where there are but twain; Be bold to play, our sport is not in sight: These blue-vein'd violets whereon we lean Never can blab, nor know not what we mean. 'The tender spring upon thy tempting lip Shows thee unripe, yet mayst thou well be tasted. Make use of time, let not advantage slip; Beauty within itself should not be wasted: Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime Rot and consume themselves in little time. 'Were I hard-favour'd, foul, or wrinkled-old, Ill-nurtur'd, crooked, churlish, harsh in voice, O'erworn, despised, rheumatic, and cold, Thick-sighted, barren, lean, and lackingjuice, Then mightst thou pause, for then I were not for thee; But having no defects, why dost abhor me? 'Torches are made to light, jewels to wear, Dainties to taste, fresh beauty for the use, Herbs for their smell, and sappy plants to bear; Things growing to themselves are growth's abuse: Seeds spring from seeds, and beauty breedeth beauty; Thou wast begot; to get it is thy duty. 'Upon the earth's increase why shouldst thou feed, Unless the earth with thy increase be fed? By law of nature thou art bound to breed, That thine may live when thou thyself art dead; And so in spite of death thou dost survive, In that thy likeness still is left alive.' By this the love-sick queen began to sweat, For where they lay the shadow had forsook them, And Titan, tired in the mid-day heat, With burning eye did hotly overlook them; Wishing Adonis had his team to guide, So he were like him and by Venus' side. And now Adonis with a lazy spright, And with a heavy, dark, disliking eye, His louring brows o'erwhelming his fair sight, Like misty vapours when they blot the sky, Souring his cheeks, cries, 'Fie! no more of love: The sun doth burn my face; I must remove.' 'Ay me,' quoth Venus, 'young, and so unkind? What bare excuses mak'st thou to be gone; I'll sigh celestial breath, whose gentle wind Shall cool the heat of this descending sun: I'll make a shadow for thee of my hairs; If they burn too, I'll quench them with my tears. 'The sun that shines from heaven shines but warm, And lo! I lie between that sun and thee: The heat I have from thence doth little harm, Thine eye darts forth the fire that burneth me; And were I not immortal, life were done Between this heavenly and earthly sun. 'Art thou obdurate, flinty, hard as steel? Nay, more than flint, for stone at rain relenteth. Art thou a woman's son, and canst not feel What 'tis to love? how want of love tormenteth? O! had thy mother borne so hard a mind, She had not brought forth thee, but died unkind. 'What am I that thou shouldst contemn me this? Or what great danger dwells upon my suit? What were thy lips the worse for one poor kiss? Speak, fair; but speak fair words, or else be mute: Give me one kiss, I'll give it thee again, And one for interest, if thou wilt have twain. 'Fie! lifeless picture, cold and senseless stone, Well-painted idol, image dull and dead, Statue contenting but the eye alone, Thing like a man, but of no woman bred: Thou art no man, though of a man's complexion, For men will kiss even by their own direction.'
