Let foolish lovers, if they will love dung, With Canvas, not with Arras, clothe their shame : Yet if you go, I pass not; take your way: THE ROSE. PRESS me not to take more pleasure And to use a larger measure First, there is no pleasure here: Or if such deceits there be, Such delights I mean to say ; Who have pass'd my right away. But I will not much oppose What is fairer than a rose ? What is sweeter? yet it purgeth. Purgings enmity disclose, Enmity forbearance urgeth. If then all that worldlings prize So this flower doth judge and sentence But I health, not physic choose : Say that fairly I refuse, For my answer is a rose. DISCIPLINE. THROW away thy rod, Take the gentle path. Come ye hither all, whose love Is your dove, And exalts you to the sky: Here is love, which, having breath Even in death, After death can never die. O what sweetness from the bowl Such as is, and makes divine! Is some star (fled from the sphere) Melted there, As we sugar melt in wine? |