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My Dearest Rival, Least Our Love |
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Written by Sir John Suckling
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MY dearest rival, lest our love
Should with excentric motion move,
Before it learn to go astray,
We'll teach and set it in a way,
And such directions give unto 't,
That it shall never wander foot.
Know first then, we will serve as true
For one poor smile, as we would do,
If we had what our higher flame
Or our vainer wish could frame.
Impossible shall be our hope ;
And love shall only have his scope
To join with fancy now and then,
And think what reason would condemn :
And on these grounds we'll love as true,
As if they were most sure t' ensue :
And chastly for these things we'll stay,
As if to-morrow were the day.
Meantime we two will teach our hearts
In love's burdens bear their parts :
Thou first shall sigh, and say she's fair ;
And I'll still answer, past compare.
Thou shalt set out each part o' th' face,
While I extol each little grace :
Thou shalt be ravisht at her wit ;
And I, that she so governs it :
Thou shalt like well that hand, that eye,
That lip, that look, that majesty,
And in good language them adore ;
While I want words, and do it more.
Yea we will sit and sigh a while,
And with soft thoughts some time beguile ;
But straight again break out, and praise
All we had done before, new-ways.
Thus will we do, till paler death
Come with a warrant for our breath ;
And then, whose fate shall be to die
First of us two, by legacy
Shall all his store bequeath, and give
His love to him that shall survive ;
For no one stock can ever serve
To love so much as she'll deserve.
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