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Aftrophel! (faid fhe) my love,

Cease in these effects to prove.

Now be ftill; yet, ftill believe me,

Thy grief more than death doth grieve me.
If that any thought in me

Can tafte comfort, but of thee; .
Let me feed with hellish anguish,
And joyless, helpless, endless languish!
If those eyes you praised, be
Half fo dear, as you to me,
Let me home return ftark-blinded

Of thofe eyes, and blinder minded!
If to fecret of my heart,

I do any with impart,

Where thou art not foremost placed,

Be both wish and I defaced.

All

If more may be faid, I say

my

life on thee I lay:

If thou love-my love content thee

For, all love, all faith is meant thee.
Truft me, while I thee deny,

In myself the smart I try.

Tyrant honour thus doth use thee,
Stella's felf might not refuse thee.
Therefore, dear, this no more move,
Left, (though I leave not thy love,
Which too deep in me is framed)
I should blush when thou art named."

Therewithal, away she went;
Leaving him by paffion rent

With what she had done and spoken,
That therewith my fong is broken.

SONNE T.

ONLY

NLY joy, now here you are,
Fit to hear and ease my care;
Let my whispering voice obtain
Sweet reward, for sharpest pain.

Take me to thee, and thee to me—
No, no, no, no, my dear, let be..

Night hath closed all in her cloak,
Twinkling ftars love-thoughts provoke,
Danger hence good care doth keep,
Jealousy itself doth sleep.

Take me, &c.

Better place no wit can find,
Cupid's yoke to loose, or bind :

These sweet flow'rs on fine bed too,
Us in their best language woo.
Take me, &c.

That you heard was but a mouse :
Dumb sleep holdeth all the house:

Yet, asleep, methinks they fay,

66

Young folks, take time while you may."
Take me, &c.

Your fair mother is abed,

Candles out, and curtains spread:
She thinks you do letters write;
Write, but let me first indite.
Take me, &c.

Sweet (alas!) why faine you thus?
Concord better fitteth us;

Leave to Mars the force of hands,
Your pow'r in your beauty ftands.

Take me, &c.

Woe to me! and do you fwear
Me to hate! but I forbear!

Curfed be my dest'nies all,

That brought me to fo high a fall!

Soon with my death I will please thee.-
No! no! no! no! my dear, let be!

SONNE T.

BECAUSE I breathe not love to every one,
Nor do not use fuch colours for to wear,
Nor nourish special locks of vowed hair,
Nor give each speech a full point of a groan;
The courtly nymphs, acquainted with the moan
Of them, who in their lips love's standards bear
Where he? (fay they of me) now dare I swear
He cannot love! No, no; let him alone.

And think fo ftill! fo Stella know my mind;
Profefs indeed I do not Cupid's art :

But you, fair maids, at length this truth shall find,
That his right badge is worn but in the heart :
Dumb fwans, not chirping pies, do lovers prove;
They love indeed, who quake to say they love.

SONG.

WHO is it that this dark night,
Underneath my window plaineth ?"
It is one, who from thy fight,
Being (ah!) exil'd, disdaineth
Every other vulgar light.

"Why, alas! and are you he?

Are not yet these fancies changed?"
Dear, when you find change in me,
Though from me you be eftranged,
Let my change to ruin be,

"What if you new beauties fee?
Will not they ftir new affection ?”
I will think they pictures be
(Image-like of faint perfection)
Poorly counterfeiting thee.

"Peace! I think that some give ear.
Come, no more, left I get anger."
Blifs! I will my blifs forbear,
Fearing, fweet, you to endanger;
But my foul fhall harbour there.

"Well, begone; begone, I fay,

Left that Argus' eyes perceive you."

O! unjust is Fortune's sway,

Which can make me thus to leave you,

And from louts to run away!

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