Sir John Suckling(1609–1642)

Sonnet 11 ("Of thee, kind boy, I ask no red and white")

Of t h e e , kind boy, I ask no red a n d w h i t e , 3

T o m a k e u p m y delight;

N o o d d b e c o m i n g graces,

Black eyes, or little know-not-whats in faces;

Make me but mad enough, give me good store

Of love for h e r I c o u n t ;

I ask no m o r e ,

'Tis love in love that m a k e s t h e sport.

There's n o s u c h t h i n g a s that w e b e a u t y call,

It is mere cozenage 0 all;fraud

For t h o u g h s o m e , l o n g ago,

Liked c e r t a i n c o l o r s 4 m i n g l e d s o a n d so,

That doth not tie me now from choosing new;

If I a fancy take

To b l a c k a n d b l u e ,

T h a t f a n c y d o t h i t b e a u t y m a k e .

'Tis n o t t h e m e a t , b u t 'tis t h e a p p e t i t e

M a k e s e a t i n g a d e l i g h t ;

A n d if I like o n e d i s h

M o r e t h a n a n o t h e r , t h a t a p h e a s a n t is;

What in our watches, that in us is found:

So to the height and nick 0critical point

W e u p b e w o u n d ,

N o m a t t e r b y w h a t h a n d o r trick.