Front Page Titles (by Subject) THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM - The Poems and Glossary (Oxford ed.)
THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM - William Shakespeare, The Poems and Glossary (Oxford ed.) 
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (The Oxford Shakespeare), ed. with a glossary by W.J. Craig M.A. (London: Oxford University Press, 1916).
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THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM
- When my love swears that she is made of truth,
- I do believe her, though I know she lies,
- That she might think me some untutor’d youth,
- Unskilful in the world’s false forgeries.
- Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
- Although I know my years be past the best,6
- I smiling credit her false-speaking tongue,
- Outfacing faults in love with love’s ill rest.
- But wherefore says my love that she is young?
- And wherefore say not I that I am old?
- O! love’s best habit is a soothing tongue,
- And age, in love, loves not to have years told.12
- Therefore I’ll lie with love, and love with me,
- Since that our faults in love thus smother’d be.
- Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
- Which like two spirits do suggest me still;
- The better angel is a man, right fair,
- The worser spirit a woman, colour’d ill.
- To win me soon to hell, my female evil
- Tempteth my better angel from my side,6
- And would corrupt a saint to be a devil,
- Wooing his purity with her fair pride:
- And whether that my angel be turn’d fiend
- Suspect I may, but not directly tell;
- For being both to me, both to each friend,
- I guess one angel in another’s hell.12
- The truth I shall not know, but live in doubt,
- Till my bad angel fire my good one out.
- Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye,
- ’Gainst whom the world could not hold argument,
- Persuade my heart to this false perjury?
- Vows for thee broke deserve not punishment.
- A woman I forswore; but I will prove,
- Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee:6
- My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love;
- Thy grace being gain’d cures all disgrace in me.
- My vow was breath, and breath a vapour is;
- Then thou, fair sun, that on this earth dost shine,
- Exhale this vapour vow; in thee it is:
- If broken, then it is no fault of mine.12
- If by me broke, what fool is not so wise
- To break an oath, to win a paradise?
- Sweet Cytherea, sitting by a brook
- With young Adonis, lovely, fresh, and green,
- Did court the lad with many a lovely look,
- Such looks as none could look but beauty’s queen.
- She told him stories to delight his ear;
- She show’d him favours to allure his eye;6
- To win his heart, she touch’d him here and there,—
- Touches so soft still conquer chastity.
- But whether unripe years did want conceit,
- Or he refus’d to take her figur’d proffer,
- The tender nibbler would not touch the bait,
- But smile and jest at every gentle offer:12
- Then fell she on her back, fair queen, and toward:
- He rose and ran away; ah! fool too froward.
- If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love?
- O! never faith could hold, if not to beauty vow’d:
- Though to myself forsworn, to thee I’ll constant prove;
- Those thoughts, to me like oaks, to thee like osiers bow’d.
- Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine eyes,
- Where all those pleasures live that art can comprehend.6
- If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suffice;
- Well learned is that tongue that well can thee commend;
- All ignorant that soul that sees thee without wonder;
- Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire:
- Thine eye Jove’s lightning seems, thy voice his dreadful thunder,
- Which, not to anger bent, is music and sweet fire,12
- Celestial as thou art, O! do not love that wrong,
- To sing heaven’s praise with such an earthly tongue.
- Scarce had the sun dried up the dewy morn,
- And scarce the herd gone to the hedge for shade,
- When Cytherea, all in love forlorn,
- A longing tarriance for Adonis made
- Under an osier growing by a brook,
- A brook where Adon us’d to cool his spleen:6
- Hot was the day; she hotter that did look
- For his approach, that often there had been.
- Anon he comes, and throws his mantle by,
- And stood stark naked on the brook’s green brim:
- The sun look’d on the world with glorious eye,
- Yet not so wistly as this queen on him:12
- He, spying her, bounc’d in, whereas he stood:
- ‘O Jove,’ quoth she, ‘why was not I a flood!’
- Fair is my love, but not so fair as fickle;
- Mild as a dove, but neither true nor trusty;
- Brighter than glass, and yet, as glass is, brittle;
- Softer than wax, and yet, as iron, rusty:
- A lily pale, with damask dye to grace her,
- None fairer, nor none falser to deface her.6
- Her lips to mine how often hath she join’d,
- Between each kiss her oaths of true love swearing!
- How many tales to please me hath she coin’d,
- Dreading my love, the loss thereof still fearing!
- Yet in the midst of all her pure protestings,
- Her faith, her oaths, her tears, and all were jestings.12
- She burn’d with love, as straw with fire flameth;
- She burn’d out love, as soon as straw outburneth;
- She fram’d the love, and yet she foil’d the framing;
- She bade love last, and yet she fell a-turning.
- Was this a lover, or a lecher whether?17
- Bad in the best, though excellent in neither.
- If music and sweet poetry agree,
- As they must needs, the sister and the brother,
- Then must the love be great ’twixt thee and me,
- Because thou lov’st the one, and I the other.
- Dowland to thee is dear, whose heavenly touch
- Upon the lute doth ravish human sense;6
- Spenser to me, whose deep conceit is such
- As, passing all conceit, needs no defence.
- Thou lov’st to hear the sweet melodious sound
- That Phœbus’ lute, the queen of music, makes;
- And I in deep delight am chiefly drown’d
- Whenas himself to singing he betakes.12
- One god is god of both, as poets feign;
- One knight loves both, and both in thee remain.
- Fair was the morn when the fair queen of love,
- * * * * * * *
- Paler for sorrow than her milk-white dove,
- For Adon’s sake, a youngster proud and wild;
- Her stand she takes upon a steep-up hill:
- Anon Adonis comes with horn and hounds;6
- She, silly queen, with more than love’s good will,
- Forbade the boy he should not pass those grounds:
- ‘Once,’ quoth she, ‘did I see a fair sweet youth
- Here in these brakes deep-wounded with a boar,
- Deep in the thigh, a spectacle of ruth!11
- See, in my thigh,’ quoth she, ‘here was the sore.
- She showed hers; he saw more wounds than one,
- And blushing fled, and left her all alone.
- Sweet rose, fair flower, untimely pluck’d, soon vaded,
- Pluck’d in the bud, and vaded in the spring!
- Bright orient pearl, alack! too timely shaded;
- Fair creature, kill’d too soon by death’s sharp sting!
- Like a green plum that hangs upon a tree,
- And falls, through wind, before the fall should be.6
- I weep for thee, and yet no cause I have;
- For why thou left’st me nothing in thy will:
- And yet thou left’st me more than I did crave;
- For why I craved nothing of thee still:
- O yes, dear friend, I pardon crave of thee,
- Thy discontent thou didst bequeath to me.12
- Venus, with young Adonis sitting by her
- Under a myrtle shade, began to woo him:
- She told the youngling how god Mars did try her,
- And as he fell to her, so fell she to him.
- ‘Even thus,’ quoth she, ‘the war-like god embrac’d me,’
- And then she clipp’d Adonis in her arms;6
- ‘Even thus,’ quoth she, ‘the war-like god unlac’d me,’
- As if the boy should use like loving charms.
- ‘Even thus,’ quoth she, ‘he seized on my lips,’
- And with her lips on his did act the seizure;
- And as she fetched breath, away he skips,
- And would not take her meaning nor her pleasure.12
- Ah! that I had my lady at this bay,
- To kiss and clip me till I ran away.
- Crabbed age and youth cannot live together:
- Youth is full of pleasure, age is full of care;
- Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather;
- Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare.
- Youth is full of sport, age’s breath is short;
- Youth is nimble, age is lame;6
- Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold;
- Youth is wild, and age is tame.
- Age, I do abhor thee, youth, I do adore thee;
- O! my love, my love is young:
- Age, I do defy thee: O! sweet shepherd, hie thee,
- For methinks thou stay’st too long.12
- Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good;
- A shining gloss that vadeth suddenly;
- A flower that dies when first it ’gins to bud;
- A brittle glass that’s broken presently:
- A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower,
- Lost, vaded, broken, dead within an hour.6
- And as goods lost are seld or never found,
- As vaded gloss no rubbing will refresh,
- As flowers dead lie wither’d on the ground,
- As broken glass no cement can redress,
- So beauty blemish’d once ’s for ever lost,
- In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost.12
- Good night, good rest. Ah! neither be my share:
- She bade good night that kept my rest away;
- And daff’d me to a cabin hang’d with care,
- To descant on the doubts of my decay.
- ‘Farewell,’ quoth she, ‘and come again to-morrow:’
- Fare well I could not, for I supp’d with sorrow.6
- Yet at my parting sweetly did she smile,
- In scorn of friendship, nill I construe whether:
- ’T may be, she joy’d to jest at my exile,
- ’T may be, again to make me wander thither:
- ‘Wander,’ a word for shadows like myself,11
- As take the pain, but cannot pluck the pelf.
- Lord! how mine eyes throw gazes to the east;
- My heart doth charge the watch; the morning rise
- Doth cite each moving sense from idle rest.
- Not daring trust the office of mine eyes,
- While Philomela sits and sings, I sit and mark,
- And wish her lays were tuned like the lark;18
- For she doth welcome daylight with her ditty,
- And drives away dark dismal-dreaming night:
- The night so pack’d, I post unto my pretty;
- Heart hath his hope, and eyes their wished sight;
- Sorrow chang’d to solace, solace mix’d with sorrow;
- For why, she sigh’d and bade me come to-morrow.24
- Were I with her, the night would post too soon;
- But now are minutes added to the hours;
- To spite me now, each minute seems a moon;
- Yet not for me, shine sun to succour flowers!
- Pack night, peep day; good day, of night now borrow:
- Short, night, to-night, and length thyself to-morrow.30