TO AMORET WEEPING.
Leave Amoret, melt not away so fast Thy eyes' fair treasure; Fortune's wealthiest cast Deserves not one such pearl; for these, well spent, Can purchase stars, and buy a tenement For us in heaven; though here the pious streams Avail us not; who from that clue of sunbeams Could ever steal one thread? or with a kind Persuasive accent charm the wild loud wind? Fate cuts us all in marble, and the Book Forestalls our glass of minutes; we may look But seldom meet a change; think you a tear Can blot the flinty volume? shall our fear Or grief add to their triumphs? and must we Give an advantage to adversity? Dear, idle prodigal! is it not just We bear our stars? What though I had not dust Enough to cabinet a worm? nor stand Enslav'd unto a little dirt, or sand? I boast a better purchase, and can show The glories of a soul that's simply true. But grant some richer planet at my birth Had spied me out, and measur'd so much earth Or gold unto my share: I should have been Slave to these lower elements, and seen My high-born soul flag with their dross, and lie A pris'ner to base mud, and alchemy. I should perhaps eat orphans, and suck up A dozen distress'd widows in one cup; Nay, further, I should by that lawful stealth, Damn'd usury, undo the commonwealth; Or patent it in soap, and coals, and so Have the smiths curse me, and my laundress too; Geld wine, or his friend tobacco; and so bring The incens'd subject rebel to his king; And after all--as those first sinners fell-- Sink lower than my gold, and lie in hell. Thanks then for this deliv'rance! blessed pow'rs, You that dispense man's fortune and his hours, How am I to you all engag'd! that thus By such strange means, almost miraculous, You should preserve me; you have gone the way To make me rich by taking all away. For I--had I been rich--as sure as fate, Would have been meddling with the king, or State, Or something to undo me; and 'tis fit, We know, that who hath wealth should have no wit, But, above all, thanks to that Providence That arm'd me with a gallant soul, and sense, 'Gainst all misfortunes, that hath breath'd so much Of Heav'n into me, that I scorn the touch Of these low things; and can with courage dare Whatever fate or malice can prepare: I envy no man's purse or mines: I know That, losing them, I've lost their curses too; And Amoret--although our share in these Is not contemptible, nor doth much please-- Yet, whilst content and love we jointly vie, We have a blessing which no gold can buy.