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Do but look on her eyes, they do light
All that Love's world compriseth ! Do but look on her, she is bright
As Love's star when it riseth ! Do but mark, her forehead's smoother Than words that soothe her! And from her arch'd brows, such a grace Sheds itself through her face, As alone there triumphs to the life All the gain, all the good of the elements' strife. Have you seen but a bright lily grow,
Before rude hands have touch'd it?
Before the soil hath smutch'd it?
He that loves a rosy cheek,
Or a coral lip admires,
Fuel to maintain his fires;
But a smooth and steadfast mind,
Gentle thoughts, and calm desires,-
Kindle never-dying fires;
EPITAPH ON SALATHIEL PARRY, A CHILD OF
QUEEN ELIZABETH'S CHAPPEL.
WEEPE with me all you that read
This little storie :
Death's selfe is sorry.
In grace and feature,
Which own'd the creature.
When Fates turn'd cruell,
The stage's jewell;
Old men so duely,
He plai'd so truely.
They all consented ;
They have repented.
In bathes to steep him ;
FAIN would I, Chloris, ere I die,
Whose breast has all the wealth I have,
“ WHAT WIGHT HE LOVED."
SHALL I tell you whom I love?
Hearken then awhile to me,
As I now shall versifie,
Nature did her so much right,
That she scornes the help of art,
As ere yet embraced a hart,
Wit she hath without desire
To make knowne how much she hath ;
Than may fitly sweeten wrath.
Reason masters every sense,
And her virtues grace her birth ; Lovely as all excellence,
Modest in her most of mirth : Likelihood enough to prove Onely worth could kindle love.
Such she is, and if you know
Such a one as I have sung,
That she be but somewhile young,
AMONGST the myrtles as I walk'd, Love and my sighs, thus intertalk’d: “Tell me,” said I, in deep distress, “Where may I find my shepherdess?” “Thou fool,” said Love, “know'st thou not this, In every thing that's good, she is? In yonder tulip go
With that I stopt. Said Love, “these be,
A DIALOGUE BETWEEN HIMSELF AND MIS.
TRESS ELIZA WHEELER, UNDER THE
(H.) My dearest love, since thou wilt go,
And leave me here behind thee;
The place where I may find thee.
And set about with lilies;
May find your Amarillis.
Or with thy youthful hours?
queen of men-not flowers.
With posies, since 'tis fitter
And like the stars to glitter.
A shepherdess so homely.
['th' Court that's half so comely.
I prithee stay. (A.) I must away; (H.) Let's kiss first, then we'll sever; (AMBO.) And tho' we bid adieu to-day, We shall not part for ever.