Send me some token, that my hope may live,
Or that my easelesse thoughts may sleep and rest;
Send me some honey to make sweet my hive,
That in my passion I may hope the best.
I beg noe ribbond wrought with thine owne hands,
To knit our loves in the fantastick straine
Of new-toucht youth; nor Ring to shew the stands
Of our affection, that as that's round and plaine,
So should our loves meet in simplicity;
No, nor the Coralls which thy wrist infold,
Lac'd up together in congruity,
To shew our thoughts should rest in the same hold;
No, nor thy picture, though most gracious,
And most desir'd, because best like the best;
Nor witty Lines, which are most copious,
Within the Writings which thou hast addrest.
Send me nor this, nor that, t'increase my store,
But swear thou thinkst I love thee, and no more.
[Sonnet. The Token. 1649-69 (following Vpon Mr. Thomas
Coryats Crudities. at close of Epicedes): Ad Lesbiam. S96:
no title, B, Cy: Sonnet. O'F: Elegie. P]
[1 token B, O'F, S96: Tokens 1650-69, P]
[4 passion S96: passions 1650-69, B, P]
[5 noe B, O'F, P, S96: nor 1650-69]
[9 simplicity; Ed: simplicity. 1650-69]
[11 in 1650-69: with B, O'F, S96]
[12 hold; Ed: hold. 1650-69]
[14 desir'd because ... best; B, O'F, S96: desired
'cause 'tis like thee best; 1650-54: desired 'cause 'tis
like the best; 1669, Chambers]
[17 store, B, O'F, P, S96: score, 1650-69]