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��CHARLES WEBBE

403. A 'gainst Indifference

ORE love or more disdain I crave +

Sweet, be not still indifferent: O send me quickly to my grave,

Or else afford me more content ! Or love or hate me more or less, For love abhors all lukewarmness.

Give me a tempest if 'twill drive Me to the place where I would be ;

Or if you'll have me still alive, Confess you will be kind to me.

Give hopes of bliss or dig my grave :

More love or more disdain I crave.

��SIR GEORGE ETHEREGE 404. t Song

f ADIES, though to your conquering eyes

• • • Love owes his chiefest victories,

And borrows those bright arms from you With which he does the world subdue, Yet you yourselves are not above The empire nor the griefs of love.

Then rack not lovers with disdain, Lest Love on you revenge their pain : You are not free because you're fair: The Boy did not his Mother spare. Beauty 's but an offensive dart : It is no armour for the heart. 47*

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