The Given Love

I’LL on; for what should hinder me

From loving and enjoying thee?

Thou canst not those exceptions make,

Which vulgar, sordid mortals take-

That my fate’s too mean and low;

‘T were pity I should love thee so,

If that dull cause could hinder me

In loving and enjoying thee.

It does not me a whit displease,

That the rich all honours seize;

That you all titles make your own,

Are valiant, learned, wise, alone:

But, if you claim o’er women too

The power which over men ye do;

If you alone must lovers be;

For that, Sirs, you must pardon me.

Rather than lose what does so near

Concern my life and being here,

I’ll some such crooked ways invent,

As you, or your forefathers, went:

I’ll flatter or oppose the king,

Turn Puritan, or any thing;

I’ll force my mind to arts so new:

Grow rich, and love as well as you.

But rather thus let me remain,

As man in paradise did reign;

When perfect love did so agree

With innocence and poverty,

Adam did no jointure give;

Himself was jointure to his Eve:

Untouch’d with avarice yet, or pride,

The rib came freely back t’ his side.

A curse upon the man who taught

Women, that love was to be bought!

Rather dote only on your gold,

And that with greedy avarice hold;

For, if woman too submit

To that, and sell herself for it,

Fond lover! you a mistress have

Of her that’s but your fellow-slave.

What should those poets mean of old

That made their God to woo in gold?

Of all men, sure, they had no cause

To bind love to such costly laws;

And yet I scarcely blame them now;

For who, alas! would not allow,

That women should such gifts receive,

Could they, as he, be what they give?

If thou, my dear, thyself shouldst prize,

Alas! what value would suffice?

The Spaniard could not do’t, though he

Should to both Indies jointure thee.

Thy beauties therefore wrong will take,

If thou shouldst any bargain make;

To give all, will befit thee well;

But not at under-rates to sell.

Bestow thy beauty then on me,

Freely, as nature gave’t to thee;

‘T is an exploded popish thought

To think that heaven may be bought.

Prayers, hymns, and praises, are the way,

And those my thankful Muse shall pay:

Thy body, in my verse enshrin’d,

Shall grow immortal as thy mind.

I’ll fix thy title next in fame

To Sacharissa’s well-sung name.

So faithfully will I declare

What all thy wondrous beauties are,

That when, at the last great assize,

All women shall together rise,

Men straight shall cast their eyes on thee

And know at first that thou art she.

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A few random poems:

External links

Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus

Talking Writing Monster’s Page –

Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh

Poems in English 

• In Commendation Of Musick by William Strode by William Strode
• Her Epitaph by William Strode by William Strode
• For A Gentleman, Who, Kissinge His Friend At His Departure Left A Signe Of Blood On Her by William Strode by William Strode
• Epitaph On Mr. Bridgeman by William Strode by William Strode
• Consolatorium, Ad Parentes by William Strode by William Strode
• Chloris in the Snow by William Strode by William Strode
• Anthem For Good Fryday by William Strode by William Strode
• An Epitaph On Sr John Walter, Lord Cheife Baron by William Strode by William Strode
• An Epitaph On Mr. Fishborne The Great London Benefactor, And His Executor by William Strode by William Strode
• An Eare-Stringe by William Strode by William Strode
• An Antheme by William Strode by William Strode
• A Watch-String by William Strode by William Strode
• A Watch Sent Home To Mrs. Eliz: King, Wrapt In Theis Verses by William Strode by William Strode
• A Translation Of The Nightingale Out Of Strada by William Strode by William Strode
• A Superscription On Sir Philip Sidney’s Arcadia, Sent For A Token by William Strode by William Strode
• A Strange Gentlewoman Passing By His Window by William Strode by William Strode
• A Song On The Baths by William Strode by William Strode
• A Song On A Sigh by William Strode by William Strode
• A Riddle: On A Kiss by William Strode by William Strode
• A Purse-String by William Strode by William Strode

More external links (open in a new tab):

Russian Commerce Agency

Dealing Monster

Doska or the Board – write anything

Search engines:

Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)

Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.

Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees

Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.

Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.

 

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