[Recusancy]

Oh, let me not serve so, as those men serve,Whom honour's smokes at once fatten and starve,Poorly enrich't with great men's words or looks ;Nor so write my name in thy loving booksAs those idolatrous flatterers, which stillTheir princes' style with many realms fulfill,Whence they no tribute have, and where no sway.Such services I offer as shall payThemselves; I hate dead names. O, then let meFavourite in ordinary, or no favourite be.When my soul was in her own body sheath'd,Nor yet by oaths betroth'd, nor kisses breath'dInto my purgatory, faithless thee,Thy heart seem'd wax, and steel thy constancy.So, careless flowers strow'd on the water's faceThe curled whirlpools suck, smack, and embrace,Yet drown them; so the taper's beamy eyeAmorously twinkling beckons the giddy fly,Yet burns his wings ; and such the devil is,Scarce visiting them who are entirely his.When I behold a stream, which from the springDoth with doubtful melodious murmuring,Or in a speechless slumber, calmly rideHer wedded channel's bosom, and there chide,And bend her brows, and swell, if any boughDo but stoop down to kiss her upmost brow ;Yet, if her often gnawing kisses winThe traitorous banks to gape, and let her in,She rusheth violently, and doth divorceHer from her native and her long-kept course,And roars, and braves it, and in gallant scorn,In flattering eddies promising return,She flouts her channel, which thenceforth is dry ;Then say I: "That is she, and this am I."Yet let not thy deep bitterness begetCareless despair in me, for that will whetMy mind to scorn ; and O, love dull'd with painWas ne'er so wise, nor well arm'd, as disdain.Then with new eyes I shall survey thee, and spyDeath in thy cheeks, and darkness in thine eye,Though hope bred faith and love ; thus taught, I shall,As nations do from Rome, from thy love fall ;My hate shall outgrow thine, and utterlyI will renounce thy dalliance ; and when IAm the recusant, in that resolute stateWhat hurts it me to be excommunicate?