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To th' Church he did allow her dresse,
True Beauty, to true Holinesse.
Peace, which he lov'd in life, did lend
Her hand to bring him to his end.
When Age and Death call’d for the score,
No surfets were to reckon for.
Death tore not-therefore-but sans strife
Gently untwin'd his thread of life.
What remaines then, but that thou
Write these lines, Reader, in thy brow,
And by his faire example’s light,
Burne in thy imitation bright.
So while these lines can but bequeath
A life perhaps unto his death ;
His better Epitaph shall bee,
His life still kept alive in thee.

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OUT OF CATULLUS.1

1

Come and let us live my deare,
Let us love and never feare,
What the sowrest fathers say :
Brightest Sol that dyes to day

1 Appeared originally in . Delights' of 1646 (pp. 132-3), and was reprinted in 1648 (p. 42); but not in 1670. Our text is that of 1648; but all agree. The original is found in Carm. v.=2. The SANCROFT M.s. reads line 4 • Blithest :' line 9. numerous:' line 12 'A:' line 17 our' G.

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2. Where ere she lye,

Lock't up from mortall ere,
In shady leaves of Destiny ;

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3. Till that ripe birth

Of studied Fate stand forth,
And teach her faire steps tread our Earth ;

4. Till that divine

Idæa, take a shrine
Of chrystall flesh, through which to shine;

5. Meet you her, my wishes,

Bespeake her to my blisses,
And be ye callid, my absent kisses.

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6. I wish her, beauty

That owes not all its duty
To gaudy tire or glistring shoo-ty.

7. Something more than

Taffata or tissew can,
Or rampant feather, or rich fan.

8. More than the spoyle

Of shop, or silkeworme's toyle,
Or a bought blush, or a set smile.

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9. A face that's best

By its owne beauty drest,
And can alone commend the rest.

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18. Each ruby there,

Or pearle that dares appeare,
Be its own blush, be its own teare.

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19. A well tam'd heart,

For whose more noble smart,
Love may be long chusing a dart.

20. Eyes, that bestow

Full quivers on Love's bow;
Yet pay lesse arrowes than they owe.

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21. Smiles, that can warme

The blood, yet teach a charme,
That Chastity shall take no harme.

22. Blushes, that bin

The burnish of no sin,
Nor flames of ought too hot within.

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23. Ioyes, that confesse,

Vertue their mistresse,
And have no other head to dresse.

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24. Feares, fond, and flight,

As the coy bride's, when Night
First does the longing lover right.

25. Teares, quickly fled,

And vaine, as those are shed
For a dying maydenhead.

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