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You that are more than our discreeter fear
Dares praise with such full art, what make you here?
Here, where the summer is so little seen,
That leaves (her cheapest wealth) scarce reach at green.
You come as if the silver planet were
Misled awhile from her much-injur'd sphere,
And t ease the travels of her beams to-night,
In this small lanthorn would contract her light.

Sir W. Davenant's Works, p. 218,

1673, fol.

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Love's sooner felt than seen ; his substance thin
Betwixt those snowy mounts in ambush lies :
Oft in the eyes he spreads the subtle gin,
He therefore soonest wins that fastest flies.
Fly thence, my dear; fly fast, my Thomalin :
Who him encounters once for ever dies.

But if he lurk between the ruddy lips,

Unhappy souls that thence his nectar sips, While down into his heart the sugar'd poison slips !

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Oft in a voice he creeps down through the ear,
Oft from a blushing cheek he lights his fire ;
Oft shrouds his golden flame in likest hair*,
Oft in a soft smooth skin doth close retire:


* Oft shrouds his golden flame in likest hair.] Randolph, in some


Oft in a smile, oft in a silent tear,
And if all fail, yet Virtue's self he'll hire:

Himself's a dart, when pothing else can move.

Who then the captive soul can well reprove,
When Love, and Virtue's self become the darts of Love?

Piscatory Eclogues, bv P. Fletcher,

Ecl. vi. stan. 12, 13, Edit. 1633.



JEALOUSY! daughter of Envy and Love,
Most wayward issue of a gentle sire;
Foster'd with fears, thy father's joys t' improve ;
Mirth-marring monster, born a subtle liar;
Hateful unto thyself, fiying thine own desire :

Feeding upon suspect, that doth renew thee;
Happy were lovers if they never knew thee.


Thou hast a thousand gates thou enterest by,
Condemning trembling passions to our heart:
Hundred-ey'd Argus, ever-waking spy,
Pale hag, infernal fury, pleasure's smart,
Envious observer, prying in every part:

bumorous verses inscribed “ To his well-timb'red Mistresse,” gives the following directions :

Then place the garret of her head above,
Thatch'd with a yellow hair to keep in love.

P. 126, Edit, 1643.

Suspicious, fearful, gazing still about thee;
O would to God that love could be without thee !

Complaint of Rosamond, by S. Daniel,

Poetical Works, Vol. I. p. 51,
Edit. 1718.





me whereas the sun doth parch the green,
Or where his beams do not dissolve the ice;
In temperate heat, where he is felt and seen,

presence press'd of people, mad or wise:
Set me in high or yet in low degree,
In longest night or in the shortest day;
In clearest sky, or where clouds thickest be,
In lusty youth, or when my hairs are gray:
Set me in heaven, in earth, or else in hell,
In hill or dale, or in the foaming flood;
Thrall, or at large, alive whereso I dwell,
Sick or in health, in evil fame or good:
Hers will I be, and only with this thought
Content myself, although my chance be nought.


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STARVE not yourself, because you may
Thereby make me pine away;
Nor let brittle beauty make
You your wiser thoughts forsake:
For that lovely face will fail,
Beauty's sweet, but beauty's frail;
Tis sooner past, 'tis sooner done,
Than summer's rain, or winter's sun :
Most fleeting when it is most dear;
'Tis gone, while we but say 'tis here.
These curious locks so aptly twin'd,
Whose every hair a soul doth bind,
Will change their auburn hue, and grow
White, and cold as winter's snow.
That eye which now is Cupid's nest


and all the rest
Will follow; in the cheek, chin, nose,
Nor lily shall be found, nor rose.
And what will then become of all
Those, whom now you servants call ?
Like swallows, when their summer's done,
They'll fly, and seek some warmer sun.

T. Carew's Poems.


Will prove


Tell me, ye wand’ring spirits of the air,
Did you not see a nymph more bright, more fair
Than beauty's darling, or of looks more sweet
Than stoľn content ? If such an one you meet,

Wait on her hourly wheresoe'er she flies,

and cry, Amyntor for her absence dies.

Go search the vallies ; pluck up ev'ry rose,
You'll find a scent, a blush of her in those ;
Fish, fish for pearl or coral, there you'll see
How oriental all her colours be,
Go call the echoes to your aid,


cry, Chloris, Chloris ; for that's her name for whom I die.

But stay awhile, I have inform’d you ill,
Were she on earth she had been with me still :
Go fly to heav'n, examine ev'ry sphere,
And try what star hath lately lighted there ;

If any brighter than the sun you see,
Fall down, fall down and worship it, for that is she.

Select Airs. Printed for J. Playford,


* These verses are somewhat on the plan of Tasso's Amore Fuggitivo, who was indebted to the first Idyllium of Moschus. See an elegant paraphrase of thiş in Crashaw's Delights of the Muses, p. 110, Edit. 1670. Likewise the Hue and after Cupid, by Ben Jonson, in his Masque on the Marriage of Lord Haddington.

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