For the star-light of her eyes Brighter shines through those dark skies. Black, or fair, or tall, or low, I alike with all can sport, The bold sprightly Thais woo, Or the frozen vestal court. Every beauty takes my mind, Tied to all, to none confin'd. The Exequies. DRAW near You lovers, that complain Of fortune or disdain, And to my ashes lend a tear! Melt the hard marble with your groans, Whose cold embraces the sad subject hide Of all Love's cruelties, and Beauty's pride! No verse, No epicedium bring; Nor peaceful requiem sing, To charm the terrors of my herse! Vast griefs are dumb: softly, oh softly mourn! Lest you disturb the peace attends my urn. Yet strew Upon my dismal grave Such offerings as you have; For kinder flowers can take no birth SONG. WHEN, dearest beauty, thou shalt pay Thus, whilst the difference thou shalt prove Betwixt a feign'd and real love, Whilst he, more happy, but less true, Shall reap those joys I did pursue, And with those pleasures crowned be By Fate, which love design'd for me, Then thou perhaps thyself wilt find Cruel too long, or too soon kind. 66 ROBERT HEATH 66 I KNOW nothing more of, than that he was the author of Clarastella," (a collection of love-verses) together with Poems occasional, Elegies, Epigrams, Satyrs," in one volume, 12mo, printed in 1650. SONG. INVEST my head with fragrant rose, Thus, crown'd with Paphian myrtle, I 'Tis wine and love, and love in wine, Life's short, and winged pleasures fly; On down and floods then, swan-like, I 'Tis wine and love, and love in wine, To Clarastella saying she would commit herself to a Nunnery. [From 9 stanzas.] STAY, Clarastella, prithee stay! As well as me in fond disdain ? Wilt thou be cruel to thyself? chastise Thy harmless body, 'cause your powerful eyes Is it a sin to be belov'd? If but the cause you could remove, And, when such beauty tempts, can love refrain? And you with beauty's glory stor'd, He made you, like himself, for view, To be beheld, and then ador'd. |