pure pearls,
Dropp'd from the eyes of ravish'd girls
Or writhing brides; when (panting) they
Give unto love the straiter way.
For music now, he has the cries
Of feigned-lost virginities;
The which the elves make to excite
A more unconquered appetite.
The king's undrest; and now upon
The gnat's watchword the elves are gone.
And now the bed, and Mab possess'd
Of this great little kingly guest;
We'll nobly think, what's to be done,
He'll do no doubt; _this flax is spun_.

_Mickle_, much.
_Carries hay in's horn_ (f[oe]num habet in cornu), is dangerous.
_Peltish_, angry.
_Redeem_, gain.
_Lemster ore_, Leominster wool.
_Tyres_, head-dresses.
_Picks_, diamonds on playing-cards were so called from their points.
_Peeps_, pips.
_Whitflaws_, whitlows.
_Corrupted_, _i.e._, phosphorescent.
_Winds his errors up_, brings his wanderings to an end.
_Dandillions_, dandelions.
_Comply_, embrace.
_Spinner_, spider.
_Proof_, sign.

444. TO HIS PECULIAR FRIEND, MR. THOMAS SHAPCOTT, LAWYER.

I've paid thee what I promis'd; that's not all;
Besides I give thee here a verse that shall
(When hence thy circummortal part is gone),
Arch-like, hold up thy name's inscription.
Brave men can't die, whose candid actions are
Writ in the poet's endless calendar:
Whose vellum and whose volume is the sky,
And the pure stars the praising poetry.
Farewell

_Circummortal_, more than mortal.
_Candid_, fair.

445. TO JULIA IN THE TEMPLE.

Besides us two, i' th' temple here's not one
To make up now a congregation.
Let's to the altar of perfumes then go,
And say short prayers; and when we have done so,
Then we shall see, how in a little space
Saints will come in to fill each pew and place.

446. TO OENONE.

What conscience, say, is it in thee,
When I a heart had one,
To take away that heart from me,
And to retain thy own?

For shame or pity now incline
To play a loving part;
Either to send me kindly thine,
Or give me back my heart.

Covet not both; but if thou dost
Resolve to part with neither,
Why! yet to show that thou art just,
Take me and mine together.

447. HIS WEAKNESS IN WOES.

I cannot suffer; and in this my part
Of patience wants. _Grief breaks the stoutest hea