WHen all the Stars are by thee told, (The endless Sums of heavenly Gold) Or when the Hairs are reckoned all, From sickly Autumn's Head that fall, Or when the drops that make the Sea, Whilst all her sands thy Counters be; Thou then, and Thou alone maist prove Th' Arithmetician of my Love. An hundred Loves at Athens score, At Corinth write an hundred more. Fair Corinth does such Beauties beare, So few is an Escaping there. Write then at Chios seventy three; Write then at Lesbos (let me see) Write mee at Lesbos ninety down, Full ninety Loves, and half a One. And next to these let me present The fair Ionian Regiment. And next the Carian Company, Five hundred both Effectively. Three hundred more at Rhodes and Crete; Three hundred 'tis I'am sure Complete. For arms at Crete each Face doth bear, And every Eye's an Archer there. Go on; this stop why dost thou make? Thou thinkst, perhaps, that I mistake. Seems this to thee too great a summe? Why many a Thousand are to come; The mighty Xerxes could not boast Such different Nations in his Host. On; for my Love, if thou be'st weary, Must finde some better Secretary. I have not yet my Persian told, Nor yet my Syrian Loves enroll'd, Nor Indian, nor Arabian; Nor Cyprian Loves, nor African; Nor Scythian, nor Italian flames; There's a whole Map behinde of Names, Of gentle Loves i' th' Temperate Zone, And cold ones in the Frigid One, Cold frozen Loves with which I pine, And parched Loves beneath the Line. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HIS SAVIOURS WORDS, GOING TO THE CROSSE by ROBERT HERRICK THE SLEEPER by EDGAR ALLAN POE IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 14 by ALFRED TENNYSON BUONAPARTE by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE LAST LOOK O' HAME by HEW AINSLIE TO THE MISS WEBSTERS, WITH DR. AIKIN'S WISH by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |