Fragmenta aurea A collection of all the incomparable peeces, written by Sir John Suckling. And published by a friend to perpetuate his memory. Printed by his owne copies.

Against Absence.

MY whining Lover, what needs all These vows of life Monastical? Despairs, retirements, jealousies, Aud subtile sealing up of eyes? Come, come, be wise; return again, A finger burnt's as great a pain; And the same Physick, self same art Cures that, would cure a flaming heart: Would'st thou whilst yet the fire is in But hold it to the fire again. If you (Dear Sir) the plague have got, What matter is't whether or not They let you in the same house lie, Or carry you abroad to die? He whom the plague, or Love once takes, Every Room a Pest-House makes.

Absence were good if't were but sence That onely holds th'Intelligence: Pure love alone no hurt would do, But love is love, and magick too; Brings a mistresse a thousand miles, And the sleight of looks beguiles, Makes her entertain thee there, And the same time your Rival here; And (oh! the divel) that she should Say finer things now then she would; So nobly Fancy doth supply What the dull sence lets fall and die. Beauty like mans old enemy's known To tempt him most when hee's alone: The ayre of some wild o'regrown wood, Or pathlesse Grove is the Boyes food. Return then back, and feed thine eye, Feed all thy sences, and feast high. Spare dyet is the cause Love lasts, For Surfets sooner kill than Fasts.