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I KNOW that all beneath the moon decays;
(With toil of sp'rit which are so dearly bought!)
To which one morn of birth and death affords! That Love, a jarring is of minds' accords; Where Sense and Will invassal Reason's power!
Know what I list, this all can not me move!
SWEET Spring! thou turn'st, with all thy goodly Train, Thy head, with flames; thy mantle bright with flowers! The Zephyrs curl the green locks of the plain,
The clouds, for joy, in pearls weep down their showers. Thou turn'st, sweet Youth! but, ah! my pleasant hours And happy days, with thee come not again! The sad memorials only of my pain
Do with thee turn; which turn my sweets in sours! Thou art the same, which still thou wast before,
Delicious, wanton, amiable, fair!
But She, whose breath embalmed thy wholesome air, Is gone! nor gold, nor gems, her can restore! Neglected Virtue! seasons go and come; While thine forgot lie closèd in a tomb!
O, SACRED Blush, impurpling cheeks' pure skies With crimson wings, which spread thee like the Morn! O, bashful Look, sent from those shining eyes;
Which, though cast down on earth, couldst heaven O, Tongue, in which most luscious nectar lies; [adorn! That can, at once, both bless and make forlorn! Dear coral Lip, which Beauty beautifies,
That trembling stood, ere that her words were born.
Ye all from love dissuade so sweetly me,
SLEEP! Silence's child! Sweet father of soft Rest!
Thou spar'st, alas! who cannot be thy guest.
To inward light, which thou art wont to show. With feigned solace ease a true-felt woe! Or if, deaf God! thou do deny that grace;
Come as thou wilt! and what thou wilt, bequeath! I long to kiss the Image of my Death!
SHE, whose fair flowers no Autumn makes decay,
Did walk alone, to brave the pride of May.
(To bind the Boy) She took: but he, afraid, At her approach, sprang swiftly in the air;
And, mounting far from reach, looked back, and said, 'Why shouldst thou, Sweet! me seek in chains to Sith in thine eyes I daily am confined!' [bind;
ALEXIS! here, She stayed! Among these pines,
Here, did She spread the treasure of her hair, More rich than that brought from the Colchian mines. She set her by these musket eglantines;
The happy place, the print seems yet to bear! Her voice did sweeten here thy sugared lines;
To which, winds, trees, beasts, birds, did lend their ear.
But, ah! what served it to be happy so!
PANGLORY'S WOOING SONG.
THEREFORE, above the rest, AMBITION sat.
His Court with glitterant pearl was all enwalled; And round about the wall, in Chairs of State
And most majestic splendour, were installed A hundred Kings: whose temples were impaled In golden diadems, set here and there With diamonds, and gemmèd everywhere; And of their golden verges none disceptered were.
High over all, PANGLORY'S blazing throne,
(In her bright turret, all of crystal wrought) Like PHOEBUS' lamp in the midst of heaven shone: Whose starry top (with pride infernal fraught) Self-arching columns, to uphold were taught. In which her image still reflected was, By the smooth crystal; that, most like her glass, In beauty, and in frailty, did all others pass.
A silver wand, the Sorceress did sway:
And for a crown of gold, her hair she wore; Only a garland of rosebuds did play
About her locks; and in her hand she bore
Whose colours, like the rainbow, ever vanished.
Such watʼry orbicles young boys do blow
Out from their soapy shells; and much admire The swimming world, which tenderly they row With easy breath, till it be waved higher : But if they chance but roughly once aspire, The painted bubble instantly doth fall! Here, when she came, she gan for music call; And sang this Wooing Song, to welcome Him withal
'LOVE is the blossom, where there blows
Not all the skill, his wounds can stench!
Once a leavy coat to wear;
'Only bend thy knee to me;