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Side 216 - COME live with me and be my Love, And we will all the pleasures prove That valleys, groves, hills and fields, Woods or steepy mountain yields.
Side 125 - Marlow, now at least fifty years ago; and the milkmaid's mother sung an answer to it, which was made by Sir Walter Raleigh, in his younger days. They were old-fashioned poetry, but choicely good; I think much better than the strong lines that are now in fashion in this critical age.
Side 125 - Beauty sat bathing by a spring, Where fairest shades did hide her; The winds blew calm, the birds did sing, The cool streams ran beside her. My wanton thoughts enticed mine eye To see what was forbidden, But better memory said, fie! So vain desire was chidden. Hey, nonny, nonny, &c.
Side 218 - Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten: In folly ripe, in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw and ivy buds, Thy coral clasps and amber studs, All these in me no means can move To come to thee, and be thy love.
Side 4 - Take me to thee, and thee to me. No, no, no, no, my dear, let be.
Side 168 - Thy grief more than death would grieve me. If that any thought in me Can taste comfort but of thee, Let me, fed with hellish anguish, Joyless, hopeless, endless languish.
Side 125 - Love in my bosom like a bee Doth suck his sweet; Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah, wanton, will ye?
Side xxxvii - Turn I my looks unto the skies, Love with his arrows wounds mine eyes; If so I gaze upon the ground, Love then in every flower is found. Search I the shade to fly...