For time fhall come when thefe divided friends
Shall joyne againe, and know no feverall ends,
But change this short and momentary kisse
To strict embraces of celeftiall bliffe.
Bofworth-field and other Poems by Sir J. Beaumont-Ed. 1629.
On Lady Katherine Paston, who died March 10,
AN Man be filent and not praises find,
For her who lived the praise of woman-kind,
Whose outward frame was lent the world to gefs,
What shapes our fouls fhall wear in happiness,
Whofe virtue did all ill fo overfwaye,
That her whole life was a communion daye.
From the Church of Pafton,
Norfolk.
<On Eleanor Freeman, who died A. D. 1650, aged 21.
A Virgin bloffom in her May,
Of youth and virtues turn'd to clay;
Rich earth accomplish'd with thofe graces
That adorn Saints in heavenly places.
Let not Death boaft his conquering power
She'll rife a Star, that fell a Flower.
From the Church of Tewksbury,
Gloucestershire.
NEAR to this Eglantine
Enclosed lies the milke-white Armeline;
Once Chloris onlie joye,
Now only her annoy;
Who envied was of the moft happy fwaines,
That keepe their flockes on Mountaines, Dales, or Plaines:
For oft the bore the wanton in her arme,
And oft her bed and bofom did him warme;
Now when unkindly fates did him deftroy,
Bleft dog he had the grace,
With tears for him that Chloris wet her face.
Drummond, p. 203. Ed. 8vo.
To the Queen, entertain'd at Night by the Countess of Anglesey.
AIRE as unfhaded light; or as the day
In its first birth, when all the year was May;
Sweet, as the Altars fmoak, or as the new
Unfolded bud, fwel'd by the early dew;
Smooth, as the face of waters first appear'd,
Ere tides began to strive, or winds were heard:
Kind as the willing Saints, and calmer farre,
Than in their fleeps forgiven hermits are;
You that are more, then our difcreter feare
Dares praise, with fuch full art, what make you here?
Here, where the Summer is fo little feen,
That leaves, (her cheapest wealth) scarce reach at green.
You come, as if the filver Planet were
Misled a while from her much-injur'd Sphere,
And t' ease the travailes of her beames to-night,
In this fmall Lanthorn would contract her light.
The Works of Sir W. Davenant,
Lond. 1673. Fol. p. 218.
LOVE's fooner felt, then feen; his substance thinne
Betwixt those fnowy mounts in ambush lies:
Oft in the eyes he spreads his fubtil ginne;
He therefore fooneft winnes that fastest flies,
Fly thence, my dear, fly faft, my Thomalin:
Who him encounters once, for eyer dies:
But if he lurke between the ruddy lips,
Unhappie foul, that thence his nectar fips, While down into his heart the fugred poifon flips!
Oft in a voice he creeps down through the eare:
Oft from a blushing cheek he lights his fire;
Oft shrouds his golden flame in likest hair:
Oft in a foft-smooth skin doth close retire:
Oft in a smile: oft in a filent teare:
And if all fail, yet Virtue's felf he'll hire :
Himfelf's a dart, when nothing els can move.
Who then the captive foul can well reprove,
When Love, and Vertue's felf become the darts of Love?
Pifcat. Eclog. by Ph. Fletcher,
Ecl. 6. St. 12, 13. Ed. 1633.
Jealoufy! Daughter of Envy and Love,
Moft wayward iffue of a gentle Sire;
Fofter'd with fears, thy Father's joys t' improve ;
Mirth-marring Monster, born a fubtle liar;
Hateful unto thyself, flying thine owne desire ;
Feeding upon Sufpect, that doth renew thee;
Happy were Lovers if they never knew thee,
Thou hast a thousand gates thou enterest by,
Condemning trembling Paffions to our heart:
Hundred-ey'd Argus, ever-waking spy,
Pale hag, infernal fury, pleasure's fmart,
Envious obferver, prying in every part:
Sufpicious, fearful, gazing ftill about thee;
O would to God that Love could be without thee!
Daniel's Compl. of Rosamond,
Ed. 1718, vol. I. p. 516
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