Dwell in mine arms, aloft we'll hover, There all, but books of fancy's writing. Be but my darling, age to free thee THE DEATH OF SPRING. HERE lies the blithe Spring, Yet in April herself fell a crying: A sweating sickness she got, Yet no month can say, Stuck her coffins with flowers great plenty: An epitaph o'er her hearse, But assure you the lines were not dainty. HAYM SUMMER SPORTS. AYMAKERS, rakers, reapers, and mowers, Dress up with musk-rose her eglantine bowers, Sing, dance, and play, 'Tis holiday; The Sun does bravely shine On our ears of corn. Rich as a pearl Comes every girl, This is mine, this is mine, this is mine; Let us die, ere away they be borne. Bow to the Sun, to our queen, and that fair one Each bonny lass here is counted a rare one, Will teach the woods to resound, Their bleating dams, 'Mongst kids shall trip it round; For joy thus our wenches we follow. Wind, jolly huntsmen, your neat bugles shrilly, Spring up, you falconers, the partridges freely, Over ridge, over plain, The dogs have the stag in chase: And sousing kills with a grace! DRINKING SONG. AST away care; he that loves sorrow CA Lengthens not a day, nor can buy to-morrow; Money is trash; and he that will spend it, Wine is a charm, it heats the blood too, Cowards it will arm, if the wine be good too; Quickens the wit, and makes the back able, Pots fly about, give us more liquor, Merrily, &c. Brothers of a rout, our brains will flow quicker; Empty the cask; score up, we care not; Fill all the pots again; drink on, and spare not. Merrily, &c. THE LOVER'S MELANCHOLY. 1628. FLY FLY HENCE, SHADOWS! LY hence, shadows, that do keep Yet the heart doth ever waken THE BROKEN HEART. 1633. BEAUTY BEYOND THE REACH OF ART. CAN you paint a thought? or number Can you count soft minutes roving Sooner do both that and this, Beauty's beauty; such a glory, All loves, all hearts, BRIDAL SONG. COMFORTS lasting, loves encreasing, Like soft hours never ceasing; Plenty's pleasure, peace complying, Without jars, or tongues envying; Hearts by holy union wedded, More than theirs by custom bedded; Fruitful issues; life so graced, Not by age to be defaced; Budding as the year ensu❜th, Every spring another youth: All what thought can add beside, Crown this Bridegroom and this Bride! LOVE IS EVER DYING. no more, no more, too late Sighs are spent; the burning tapers Of a life as chaste as fate, Pure as are unwritten papers, Are burned out: no heat, no light Love's martyrs must be ever, ever dying. A DIRGE. GLORIES, pleasures, pomps, delights and ease, Can but please The outward senses, when the mind Love only reigns in death; though art THE LADY'S TRIAL. 1638. LOSE NOT OPPORTUNITY. PLEASURES, beauty, youth attend ye, Do, do! be kind as fair, Lose not opportunity for air. She is cruel that denies it, Bounty best appears in granting; |