SONG 1.

Conquest by flight.

LADIES, fly from Love's smooth tale!
Oaths steep'd in tears do oft prevail ;
Grief is infectious, and the air

Inflam'd with sighs will blast the fair.
Then stop your ears when lovers cry!
Lest yourself weep when no soft eye
Shall with a sorrowing tear repay
That pity which you cast away.

Young men, fly, when Beauty darts
Amorous glances at your hearts!
The fixed mark gives the shooter aim;
And ladies' looks have power to maim,
Now 'twixt their lips, now in their eyes,
Wrapp'd in a smile or kiss, Love lies.-
Then fly betimes; for only they

Conquer Love that run away.

1 The second stanza of this song is also to be found in "Festum Voluptatis, or the Banquet of Pleasure," by S[amuel] P[ecke], 1639, 4to.

DIALOGUE.

[From a MS. in the possession of Mr. Malone.]

Q. TELL me, Utrechia', (since my fate,
And thy more powerful form decrees
My heart an immolation at thy shrine,
Where I am only 2 to incline,)
How I must love, and at what rate;
By what despairs, and what degrees,

I may* my hopes enlarge, and my desires confine?

A. First, when thy flames begin,

See they burn all within ;

And so, as lookers-on may not descry

5

Smoke in a sigh, or sparkles in an eye.

6

I would have had my love a good while there,
Ere thine own heart had been aware:

7

And I myself would choose to know it,

First, by thy care and cunning not to show it.

Q. When my love is, your own way, thus betray'd, Must it still be afraid?

May it not be sharp-sighted then 10, as well,

And from that knowledge, hope' it may

Tell itself3 a louder way?

A. Let it alone a while:

5

And so, thou may'st beguile
My heart, perhaps, to a consent
Long ere it meant.

For whilst I dare not disapprove,
Lest I' betray a knowledge of thy love,
I shall be so accustom'd to allow,
That I shall scarce know how

To be displeas'd when thou shalt it avow.

Q. When, by love's powerful' silent sympathy,
Our souls are got thus nigh,

And that, by one another seen,

They need 10

no breath to go between,

Though in the main agreement of our breasts
Only" our hearts subscribe as interests;

Yet, it will 12 need

Our tongues' 13 sign too, as witness to the deed.

A. Speak then: but when you whisper out1 the tale

Let it be so disorder'd, that I may

Guess only thence what you would say.

1

Then, to be able to speak sense

Were an offence:

And, 'twill thy passion tell the subtlest way,
Not to know what to say.

1" to be able" wanting.

N.B. The variations in the notes are from a copy printed in the works of Sir R. Fanshaw, who translated this dialogue into Latin hexameters.

WILLIAM STRODE

WAS born about 1600, and died in 1644. He became D.D. and canon of Christ-Church, having served the offices of proctor and public orator to the University, and had the reputation of being a good preacher, an exquisite speaker, and an eminent poet.

The following specimens are extracted from a miscellany called "Wit restored," 1658, 12mo.

Answer to "The Lover's Melancholy."

[Vide P. 55 of this volume.]

RETURN, my joys! and hither bring
A tongue not made to speak, but sing,
A jolly spleen, an inward feast,
A causeless laugh without a jest,
A face which gladness doth anoint,
An arm, for joy, flung out of joint,
A spriteful gait that leaves no print,
And makes a feather of a flint,
A heart that's lighter than the air,
An eye still dancing in its sphere,
Strong mirth which nothing shall control,
A body nimbler than a soul,