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Sweet spring, thou turn'st with all thy goodly train,
Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part-
A SAD SONG.
Weep no more, nor sigh, nor groan,
Beaumont and Fletcher,
INVOCATION TO SLEEP.
Come, Sleep, and with thy sweet deceiving
Lock me in delight awhile;
I may feel an influence,
Though but a shadow, but a sliding,
Let me know some little joy!
Through an idle fancy wrought:
Beaumont and Flctcher.
Lay a garland on my hearse
My love was false, but I was firm
Beaumont and Fletcher.
THE SHEPHERD'S PRAISE OF HIS SACRED DIANA. Praised be Diana's fair and harmless light,
Praised be the dews, wherewith she moists the ground: Praised be her beams, the glory of the night,
Praised be her power, by which all powers abound. Praised be her nymphs, with whom she decks the woods,
Praised be her knights, in whom true honour lives : 6 Praised be that force by which she moves the floods,
Let that Diana shine which all these gives. In heaven Queen she is among the spheres,
She, mistress-like, makes all things to be pure; Eternity in her oft change she bears,
She beauty is, by her the fair endure.
Mortality below her orb is placed ;
It is not growing like a tree
In bulk, doth make men better be ;
It was the plant and flower of light. In small proportions we just beauties see, And in short measures life may perfect be.
Which in his height of pride,
To the King sending ;
Their fall portending.
Be not amazed.
By fame been raised.
Nor more esteem me.
Loss to redeem me.
No less our skill is,
Lopped the French lilies.'