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I

Know that all beneath the Moone decayes,

And what by mortalles in this world is brought,
In 'Time's great periods shall returne to pought,
That faireft states have fatall nights and dayes:
I know how all the Muses heavenly layes ;
With toyle of spright which are so dearly bought,
As idle sounds, of few, or none are fought,
And that nought lighter is than airie praise.
I know fraile Beautie like the purple flowre,
To which one morne of birth and death affords,
That Love a jarring is of mindes accords,
Where Sense and Will invassall Reason's power :

Know what I list, this all can not mee move
But that (oh mee !) I both must write and love.

Drummond, Edinb. 1616.

to ;
Yield Citherea's Son those Arks of Love :
Bequeath the Heav'ns the Stars that I adore;
And to th'Orient do thy Pearls remove.
Yield thy hands pride unto the ivory white;
T' Arabian Odors give thy breathing sweet ;
Refore thy Blush unto Aurora br ht;
To Thetis give the honour of thy Feet.

Let

Let Venus have thy Graces her refign'd ;
And thy sweet Voice give back unto the Spheres ;
But yet restore thy fierce and cruel Mind
To Hyrcan Tygers, and to ruthless Bears.

Yield to the Marble thy hard Heart again ;
So shalt thou ceale to plague, and I to pain.

Daniel, XIX. Son.

1718. Ed. a V.

SINC
INCE there's no help, come let us kiss and part,

Nay, I have done, you get no more of me,
And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart,
That thus to cleanly I myself can free,
Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows,
And when we meet at any time again,
Be it not seen in either of our brows,
That we one jot of former love retain ;
Now at the last galp of Love's latest breath,
When his pulfe failing, passion speechless lies,
When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death,
And Innocence is closing up his eyes,

Now if thou would'st, when all have given him over
From death to life thou might'st him yet recover.

Dayton, LXI. Son.

1

TO

HIS L U TE.

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Mente, bee as thou wast, when thou didst grow

With thy greene mother in some shadie grove,
When immelodious windes but made thee move,
And birds on thee their ramage did bestow.
Sith that deare voyce, which did thy sounds approve
Which vied in such harmonious straines to flow,
Is reft from Earth to tune those spheares above,
What art thou but a harbinger of woe?
Thy pleafing notes be pleasing notes no more,
But orphane wailings to the fainting eare,
Each hoppe a figh, each sound drawes foorth a teare,
Be therefore filent as in woods before,

Or if that any hand to touch thee daigne,
Like widow'd Turtle still her losse complaine.

Drummond, Edin. Ed. 1616.

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1

To

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CA
ARE-charmer Sleep, Son of the fable Night;

Brother to Death, in filent darkness born ;
Relieve my languish, and rellore the light;
With dark forgetting of my care, return.
And let the day be time enough to mourn
The Shipwreck of my ill-advised Youth:
Let waking eyes suffice to wail their fcorn,
Without the torments of the night's untruth.
Cease, dreams, the images of day-desires,
To model forth the pasfions of the morrow;
Never let rifing Sun approve you liars,
To add more grief to aggravate my sorrow.

Still let me sleep, embracing clouds in vaia';
And never wake to feel the day's disdain.

Daniel, XLI. Soti.

1

My

MY

Y heart was sain, and none but you and I;

Who should I think the murder should commit?
Since but yourself there was no creature by,
But only I; guiltlefs of murd'ring ito
It slew itself; the verdict on the view
Do quit the dead, and me not accessary :
Well, well, I fear it will be prov'd by you,
The evidence fo great a proof doth carry.
But O, see, see, we need enquire po further,
Upon your lips the scarlet drops are found,
And in your eye the Boy that did the murder,
Your cheeks yet pale, fince first he gave the wound.

By this I fee, however things be past,
Wet Heaven will still have murder out at last.

Drayton, II. Son..

A

LEXIS, here shee stay'd, among these pines

(Sweet Hermitrefle) shee did alone repaire, Here did the spreade the treasure of her haire, More rich than that brought from the Cholchian mines. She set her by these musket Eglantines ; The happie place the print seemes yet to beare, Her voyce did sweeten here thy sugred lines, To which windes, trees, beasts, birds, did lend their eare ;

Mee

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