JOHN LILLY. CUPID AND CAMPASPE. CUPID and my Campaspe play'd At cards for kisses; Cupid paid: He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows, Growing on 's cheek (but none knows how) SONG. Yes! O yes! if any maid Whom leering Cupid has betray'd O yes! O yes! has any lost A heart which many a sigh hath cost? Which, as a pearl, Disdain doth wear? Is any one undone by fire, 1 And turn'd to ashes through desire? Being cheated of her golden sleep, Stol'n by sick thoughts? the pirate's found, What he's to trust to: Boy, give car. DANIE L. SONNETS. BEAUTY, sweet love, is like the morning dew, Soon doth it fade that makes the fairest flourish, When thou, surcharg'd with burthen of thy years, The date of age, the calends of our deathBut ah! no more-this must not be foretold, For women grieve to think they must be old. I Must not grieve my love, whose eyes would read Lines of delight whereon her youth might smile, Flowers have time before they come to seed, And she is young, and now must sport the while. And sport (sweet maid) in season of these years, Pity and smiles must only yield thee praise. SONNETS. LOOK, Delia, how we' esteem the half-blown rose, The image of thy blush, and summer's honour; But strait her wide-blown pomp comes to decline; . LET others sing of knights and palladines, In aged accents and untimely words, Paint shadows in imaginary lines, Which well the reach of their high wits records; Authentic shall my verse in time to come; That fortify thy name against old age; Against the dark, and time's consuming rage. Though the' error of my youth they shall discover; Suffice they shew-I liv'd, and was thy lover! SONNETS. RESTORE thy tresses to the Golden ore; To Cytherea's son those arks of love; Bequeath the Heavens the stars that I adore; And to the Orient do thy pearls remove: Yield thy hands' pride unto the Ivory white; To' Arabian odours give thy breathing sweet; Restore thy blush unto Aurora bright; To Thetis give the honour of thy feet: Let Venus have thy graces her resign'd; And thy sweet voice give back unto the Spheres ; -But then restore thy fierce and cruel mind To Hyrcan tigers, and to ruthless bears: Yield to the marble thy hard heart again; So shalt thou cease to plague, and I to plain. AND whitler, poor Forsaken! wilt thou go, To go from sorrow, and thine own distress; When ev'ry place presents like face of woe, And no remove can make thy sorrows less? Yet go, Forsaken! leave these woods, these plains; Leave her and all, and all for her that leaves Thee and thy love forlorn, and both disdains; And of both wrongful deems, and ill conceives. Seek out some place; and see if any place Can give the least release unto thy grief; Convey thee from the thought of thy disgrace, Steal from thyself, and be thy care's own thief. But yet what comfort shall I hereby gain? Bearing the wound, I needs must feel the pain! N. BRETON. PHILLIDA AND CORYDON. N the merry month of May, IN In a morn by break of day, With a troop of damsels playing, Forth I yode forsooth a maying. When anon by a wood side, Where that May was in his pride, I espied, all alone, Phillida and Corydon. Much ado there was, God wot, THE SHEPHERD'S ADDRESS TO HIS MUSE. GOOD muse, rock me asleep With some sweet harmony: This weary eyes is not to keep Thy wary company. |