Not like your country neighbors that commit Their vice of loving for a Christmas fit, Which is indeed but friendship of the spit; But as a friend, which name yourself receive, And which you, being the worthier, gave me leave In letters, that mix spirits, thus to weave. Which, how most sacred I will ever keep, Though you sometimes proclaim me too severe, Little know they, that profess amity,. And less they know, who being free to use That friendship which no chance but love did choose, Will unto license that fair leave abuse. It is an act of tyranny, not love, In practised friendship wholly to reprove, As flattery, with friends' humors still to move. From each of which I labor to be free; For no man lives so out of passion's sway 'Tis true, I'm broke! vows, oaths, and all I had Of credit lost. And I am now run mad, Or do upon myself some desperate ill; may This sadness makes no approaches, but to kill. God and the good know to forgive and save; 45 This and the next three Elegies are all addressed to the same person. The lady, whoever she was, appears to have had a love affair with the poet, who, in a moment of intoxication, had betrayed her confidence and disclosed the secret of their connection.-G. I will not stand to justify my fault, Or go about to countenance the vice, By naming in what company 'twas in, As I would urge authority for sin : No, I will stand arraigned and cast, to be The subject of your grace in pardoning me, And, styled your mercy's creature, will live more Your honor now, than your disgrace before. Think it was frailty, mistress, think me man, Think that yourself, like heaven, forgive me can: Where weakness doth offend, and virtue grieve, There greatness takes a glory to relieve. Think that I once was yours, or may be now; Nothing is vile, that is a part of you. Error and folly in me may have crossed Your just commands: yet those, not I, be lost. I am regenerate now, become the child Of your compassion; parents should be mild; There is no father that for one demerit, Or two, or three, a son will disinherit; That is the last of punishments is meant; No man inflicts that pain till hope be spent ; An ill-affected limb, whate'er it ail, We cut not off till all cures else do fail, And then with pause; for severed once, that's gone, Would live his glory that could keep it on. Do not despair my mending; to distrust Before you prove a medicine, is unjust; Could you demand the gifts you gave, again! Why was 't? did e'er the clouds ask back their rain? The sun his heat and light? the air his dew? O may your wisdom take example hence! It shakes even Him that all things else doth shake. And how more fair and lovely looks the world That makes us live, not that which calls to die. And with the vulgar doth it not obtain He, when he sees a sorrow, such as this, Forgiven him and in that line stand I, : Rather than once displease you more, to die, Can pump for, or a libel without salt Produce; though threatening with a coal or chalk, On every wall, and sung where'er I walk. |