Rosalind's Description

Her eyes are sapphires set in snow,
Refining heaven by every wink;
The Gods do fear whenas they glow,
And I do tremble when I think.

Heigh ho, would she were mine!

Her cheeks are like the blushing cloud
That beautifies Aurora's face,

Or like the silver crimson shroud
That Phoebus' smiling looks doth grace;
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!

Her lips are like two budded roses
Whom ranks of lilies neighbour nigh,
Within which bounds she balm encloses,
Apt to entice a deity:

Heigh ho, would she were mine!

Her neck is like a stately tower
Where Love himself imprison'd lies,
To watch for glances every hour
From her divine and sacred eyes:
Heigh ho, for Rosaline!

Her paps are centres of delight,
Her paps are orbs of heavenly frame,
Where Nature moulds the dew of light
To feed perfection with the same:

Heigh ho, would she were mine!

With orient pearl, with ruby red,
With marble white, with sapphire blue
Her body every way is fed;

Yet soft in touch and sweet in view:
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!

ΙΟ

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Nature herself her shape admires;
The Gods are wounded in her sight;
And Love forsakes his heavenly fires
And at her eyes his brand doth light:

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Heigh ho, would she were mine!
Then muse not, Nymphs, though I bemoan
The absence of fair Rosaline,

Since for her fair there 's fairer none,
Nor for her virtues so divine:

Heigh ho, fair Rosaline;

Heigh ho, my heart! would God that she were

CUPID and my Campaspe played
At cards for kisses,-Cupid paid;

He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows,
His mother's doves, and team of sparrows,—
Loses them too; then down he throws

The coral of his lip, the rose

Growing on 's cheek (but none knows how);
With these the crystal of his brow,
And then the dimple of his chin,—
All these did my Campaspe win.
At last he set her both his eyes;
She won, and Cupid blind did rise.
O Love! has she done this to thee?
What shall, alas! become of me?

1584.

John Lyly.

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THE BARGAIN

From Arcadia, 3d ed.

My true love hath my heart, and I have his,
By just exchange one for another given:
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss,
There never was a better bargain driven.
My true love hath my heart, and I have his. 5

His heart in me keeps me and him in one,
My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides:
He loves my heart, for once it was his own;
I cherish his because in me it bides:

My true love hath my heart, and I have his. 10

His heart his wound received from my sight;
My heart was wounded with his wounded

heart:

For as from me on him his hurt did light,

So still methought in me his hurt did smart. Both equal hurt, in this change sought our bliss:

My true love hath my heart, and I have
his.

1598.

Sir Philip Sidney.

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1600.

BEAUTY SAT BATHING

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 O!
Hey nonny nonny!

Into a slumber then I fell,

And fond imagination

Seemed to see, but could not tell,

Her feature or her fashion:

But ev'n as babes in dreams do smile,
And sometimes fall a-weeping,

So I awaked as wise that while
As when I fell a-sleeping.

Anthony Munday.

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HER TRIUMPH

In part from The Devil is an Ass

SEE the Chariot at hand here of Love,
Wherein my Lady rideth!

Each that draws is a swan or a dove,
And well the car Love guideth.
As she goes, all hearts do duty
Unto her beauty;

And enamour'd do wish, so they might
But enjoy such a sight,

That they still were to run by her side,

Through swords, through seas, whither she would ride.

Do but look on her eyes, they do light
All that Love's world compriseth!

Do but look on her hair, it 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 the face,

As alone there triumphs to the life

All the gain, all the good, of the elements'

strife.

ΙΟ

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