The wounds her lightest glances give:--
In pity then be harsh, and deal
Such wounds that I
May hourly die,
And, by a word restored, live.



WRITTEN UPON LOVE'S FRONTIER-POST.

(From 'Troy Town'.)

Toiling love, loose your pack,
All your sighs and tears unbind:
Care's a ware will break a back,
Will not bend a maiden's mind.

In this State a man shall need
Neither priest nor law giver:
Those same lips that are his creed
Shall confess their worshipper.

All the laws he must obey,
Now in force and now repeal'd,
Shift in eyes that shift as they,
Till alike with kisses seal'd.



TITANIA.