LXIX. THOMAS MIDDLETON, 1580?-1627. L HIPPOLITO'S SONG. OVE is like a lamb, and love is like a lion; Fly from love, he fights; fight, then does he fly on. Love is all on fire, and yet is ever freezing; Love is much in winning, yet is more in leesing; Love is ever true, and yet is ever lying; Love does dote in liking, and is mad in loathing; LXX. PHINEAS FLETCHER, 1581-1650. A HYMN. ROP, drop, slow tears, DROP And bathe those beauteous feet, Which brought from heaven The news and Prince of peace: Cease not, wet eyes, His mercies to entreat; To cry for vengeance Sin doth never cease: In your deep floods Drown all my faults and fears; Nor let his eye See sin, but through my tears. LXXI. THOMAS CAREW, 1589?-1639. A SONG. SK me no more where Jove bestows, Ask me no more whither do stray Ask me no more whither doth haste Ask me no more where those stars light Ask me no more if east or west The phoenix builds her spicy nest; For unto you at last she flies, And in your fragrant bosom dies. LXXII. GEORGE WITHER, 1590?-1667. THE SHEPHERD'S RESOLUTION. HALL I, wasting in despair, SHA Die because a woman's fair? Or make pale my cheeks with care, 'Cause another's rosy are? Be she fairer than the day, Or the flowery meads in May; What care I how fair she be? Should my heart be grieved or pined, If she be not so to me, What care I how kind she be? Shall a woman's virtues move Me to perish for her love? |