Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO HIS RIVAL, by JOHN SUCKLING



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TO HIS RIVAL, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Now we have taught our love to know
Last Line: And in her grave buried lie.


Now we have taught our love to know
That it must creep where 't cannot go,
And be for once content to live,
Since here it cannot have to thrive;
It will not be amiss t' enquire
What fuel should maintain this fire:
For fires do either flame too high,
Or, where they cannot flame, they die.
First then (my half but better heart)
Know this must wholly be her part;
(For thou and I, like clocks, are wound
Up to the height, and must move round):
She then, by still denying what
We fondly crave, shall such a rate
Set on each trifle, that a kiss
Shall come to be the utmost bliss.
Where sparks and fire do meet with tinder,
Those sparks more fire will still engender:
To make this good, no debt shall be
From service or fidelity;
For she shall ever pay that score,
By only bidding us do more:
So (though she still a niggard be)
In gracing, where none 's due, she 's free.
The favours she shall cast on us,
(Lest we should grow presumptuous)
Shall not with too much love be shown,
Nor yet the common way still done;
But ev'ry smile and little glance
Shall look half lent, and half by chance:
The ribbon, fan, or muff that she
Would should be kept by thee or me,
Should not be giv'n before too many,
But neither thrown to 's, when there 's any;
So that herself should doubtful be
Whether 'twere fortune flung 't, or she.
She shall not like the thing we do
Sometimes, and yet shall like it too;
Nor any notice take at all
Of what, we gone, she would extol.
Love she shall feed, but fear to nourish;
For where fear is, love cannot flourish;
Yet live it must, nay must and shall,
While Desdemona is at all:
But when she 's gone, then love shall die,
And in her grave buried lie.





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