ike a bee, Love gentle still doth bring
Honey to salve where he before did sting.

42. TO LOVE.

I'm free from thee; and thou no more shalt hear
My puling pipe to beat against thine ear.
Farewell my shackles, though of pearl they be;
Such precious thraldom ne'er shall fetter me.
He loves his bonds who, when the first are broke,
Submits his neck unto a second yoke.

43. ON HIMSELF.

Young I was, but now am old,
But I am not yet grown cold;
I can play, and I can twine
'Bout a virgin like a vine:
In her lap too I can lie
Melting, and in fancy die;
And return to life if she
Claps my cheek, or kisseth me:
Thus, and thus it now appears
That our love outlasts our years.

44. LOVE'S PLAY AT PUSH-PIN.

Love and myself, believe me, on a day
At childish push-pin, for our sport, did play;
I put, he pushed, and, heedless of my skin,
Love pricked my finger with a golden pin;
Since which it festers so that I can prove
'Twas but a trick to poison me with love:
Little the wound was, greater was the smart,
The finger bled, but burnt was all my heart.

_Push-pin_, a game in which pins are pushed with an endeavor to cross
them.

45. THE ROSARY.

One ask'd me where the roses grew:
I bade him not go seek,
But forthwith bade my Julia show
A bud in either cheek.

46. UPON CUPID.

Old wives have often told how they
Saw Cupid bitten by a flea;
And thereupon, in tears half drown'd,
He cried aloud: Help, help the wound!
He wept, he sobb'd, he call'd to some
To bring him lint and balsamum,
To make a tent, and put it in
Where the stiletto pierced the skin;
Which, being done, the fretful pain
Assuaged, and he was well again.

_Tent_, a roll of lint for probing wounds.

47. THE PARCAE; OR, THREE DAINTY DESTINIES: THE ARMILLET.

Three lovely sisters working were,
As they were closely set,
Of soft and dainty maidenhair
A curious armillet.
I, smiling, asked them what they did,
Fair Destinies all three,
Who told me they had drawn a thread
Of life, and 'twas for me.
They show'd me then how fine 'twas spun,
And I reply'd thereto,--
"I care not now how soon 'tis done,
Or cut, if cut by you".

48. SORROWS SUCCEED.

When one is past, another care we have:
_Thus woe succeeds