CYNTHIADES: TO CYNTHIA ON HIS BEING ONE WITH HER by FRANCIS KYNASTON

WHEN pure refined gold is made in coin
And silver is put to 't as the allay,
Unless they both do melt, they will not join,
There being to mix them both no other way.
So bars of iron in like kind will not
Be piec'd together, nor be made in one,
Unless they both be made alike red-hot:
Then join they as they had together grown.
By this I find, there is no hope for me,
Ever to be united as a part
Of thy sweet self, or to be mixt with thee:
Breast join'd to breast, and heart commix'd with heart,
For that thy hard congeal'd and snow-white breast,
Cold as the North, that sends forth frosty weather,
And mine with flames of love warm as the West,
Will ne'er admit that we should lie together:
Unless my tears like showers of April rain,
Do thaw thy ice to water back again:
Or else unless my naked breasts being laid
On thine, and alike cold, it may be said,
Of both our bosoms being joined so,
That alabaster frozen was in snow;
That so what heat together could not hold,
Should be combin'd, and made one, by the cold.

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