Beauty, like Mans old Enemy's, known A Supplement of an imperfect Copy of Verses of Mr. Will. Shakespear's, By the Author. I. NE of her Hands, one of her Cheeks lay under, Which therefore fwell'd, and feem'd to part asunder, The one look'd pale, and for Revenge did long, II. Out of the Bed the other fair Hand was On a green Sattin Quilt, whole perfect white Look'd like a Dazy in a Field of Grass, * Shakespear. *And fhow'd like unmelt Snow unto the Sight, Thus fat There lay this pretty Perdue, fafe to keep The rest o'th' Body that lay fast asleep. III. Her Eyes (and therefore it was Night) close laid, But yet the Doors were of fuch fine Stuff made, Which turn'd to Smiles ftill as't came near her Face. IV. Her Beams (which some dull Men call'd Hair) divided, HAT none beguiled be by Time's quick flowing, Are quicker And thicker Where Love hath its Notions: Hope is the main Spring on which moves Defire, Clicking And ne'er giving o'er. Occafion's the Hand which still's moving round, Kiffes, Strange Bliffes, And what you beft like. 1. 'Tis T I. IS now, fince I fate down before (Time ftrangely fpent) a Year and more, II. Made my Approaches, from her Hand Unto her Lip did rife, And did already understand The Language of her Eyes. III. Proceeded on with no less Art, IV. When this did nothing, I brought down A thousand thousand to the Town, V. I then refolv'd to ftarve the Place VI. To draw her out, and from her Strength, I drew all Batteries in: And brought my self to lye at length VII. When VII. When I had done what Man cou'd do, And fmil'd at all was done. VIII. I fent to know from whence and where, A Spie inform'd, Honour was there, IX. March, march, (quoth I) the Word ftraight give, That Giant upon Air will live, And hold it out for ever. X. To fuch a place our Camp remove I hate a Fool that ftarves her Love Upon my Lord Brohall's Wedding. I DIALOGUE. S. N Bed, dull Man? B. When Love and Hymen's Revels are begun, S. Dull Heretick, thou woud'ft fay, Broball Is Broball our gallant Friend gone to Church, as Martyrs to the Fire: Who marry differ but i'th' end, Since both do take The hardest Way to what they most defire: The Haste and Eagerness Men have to feal A Sprig of Willow in his Hat he wore, A careless Smile broke forth, which spoke his Mind, And feem'd to fay fhe might have been more kind. When this (dear Jack) I faw Thought I How weak is Lovers Law? The Bonds made there (like Gypfies Knots) with Ease But was the fair Nymph's Praise or Power less There must be fome to thoot and batter down, To Hawks (good Jack) and Hearts There may Be feveral Ways and Arts; One watches them perchance, and makes them tame: Another, when they're ready, fhews them Game. |