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Ah! what is human greatness, valour, wit?
And found that sight was through the horny port. In whom, save death, Dought mortal was at all.
SIR JOHN SCOT'S VERSES,
What course of life should wretched mortals take?
While with audacious wings,
ON HIS LADY BEHOLDING HERSELF IN A MARBLE. MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMS.
World, wonder not, that I
See, dead and senseless things cannot deny
To lodge so dear a guest:
Evin this hard marble stone Who those that did her see in rocks did change, Receives the same, and loves, but cannot groan. No image carv'd is this: Medusa's self it is: For while at heat of day To quench her thirst she by this spring did stay, Her hideous head beholding in this glass,
How comes it, Sleep, that thou
Of her, dear her, so far who 's absent now?
Which rocks might move, and move the pines to bow?
Why didst thou steal away? Fair Paphos' wanton queen
Return, I thine for ever will remain, (Not drawn in white and red)
If thou wilt bring with thee that guest again, Is truly here, as when in Vulcan's bed She was of all Heaven's laughing senate seen. Gaze on her hair, and eine, Her brows, the bows of Love,
A PLEASANT DECEIT. Her back with lilies spread :
Over a crystal source
Jolas laid his face,
Of purling streams to see the restless course.
That glad he rose, and cried,
“ Dear mates approach, see whom I have descried, Floods cannot quench my flames, ah! in this well The boy of whom strange stories shepherds tell, I burn, not drown, for what I cannot tell.
Oft called Hylas, dwelleth in this well."
DEEP IMPRESSION OF LOVE TO HIS MISTRESS. When first the cannon from her gaping throat
Wuom a mad dog doth bite,
Love, mad, perhaps, when he my heart did smite,
More to dissemble his ill,
Transform'd himself to thee:
No spring there is, no flood, nor other place
Where I, alas! not see thy heavenly face.
A CHAIN OF GOLD.
Sufficient chains the wildest hearts to hold ?
Is not that ivory hard
A diamantine band,
But ye must others find ?
O yes! why is that golden one then worn ?
Thus free in chains, perhaps, Love's chaios to score. The kiss with so much strife Which I late got, sweet heart, Was it a sign of death, or was it life? Of life it could not be,
ON THE DEATH OF A LINXET.
Ir cruel death had ears,
Or could be pleas'd by songs,
And Nisa mine had never wept these wrongs :
The Heavens their notes did unto it bequeath:
And if that Samian's sentences be true,
Amphion in this body lived anew.
As he doth kings, kill'd it, o grief! O tears!
That I to thee return,
Nor do thou wound my heart
Who joys to love, yet makes of love a toy.
But, ah ! if I must prove thy golden dart,
Of grace, O let me find Strange wonders doth foretel;
A sweet young lover with an aged mind." But you whose wives excel,
Thus Lilla pray'd, and Idas did reply, And love to count their praise,
(Who heard) “Dear, have thy wish, for such am I.” Shut all your gates, your hedges plant with thorns, The Sun did threat the world this time with horns.
Enclosed lies the milk-white Armeline;
Once Cloris' only joy,
Now only her annoy;
That keep their flocks in mountains, dales, or plains: I feed on fading leaves
For oft she bore the wanton in her arm, Of hope, which me deceivės,
And oft her bed and bosom did he warm ; And thousand webs do warp within my breast: Now when unkinder fates did hiin destroy, And thus iu end unto myself I weave
Blest dog, he had the grace, A fast-shut prison, or a closer grave.
That Cloris for him wet with tears her face.
THE SILK-WORM OF LOVE.
PAMPHILUS. The bawd of justice, he who laws controllid, Some ladies wed, some love, and some adore them, And made them fawn and frown as he got gold, I like their wanton sport, then care not for them, That Proteus of our state, whose heart and mouth Were farther distant than is north from south, That cormorant who made himself so gross On people's ruin, and the prince's loss,
APELLES ENAMOURED OF CAMPASPE, ALEXAN Is gone to Hell; and though he here did evil,
Poor painter while I sought
And having limn'd each part,
Except ber matchless eyes :
Scarce on those suns I gaz'd, Exil'd the champaign ground,
As lightning falls from skies, From hamlets chas'd, in cities kill’d, or bound,
Whep straight my hand grew weak,my mind amaz'd, And only woods, caves, mountains, did them hold: And ere that pencil half them had expressed, But now, when all is sold,
Love had them drawn, no, grav'd them in my breast.
On stars shall I exclaim,
Or shall I else revenge
Upon myself this shame,
Inconstant monarch, or shall I thee blame TAEN Death thee bath beguild,
Who lets Apelles prove Alecto's first born child;
The sweet delights of Alexander's love? Then thou who thrall'd all laws,
No, stars, myself, and thee, I all forgive,
So famous is the noble uvicorn;
What praise should that man have,
Whose head a lady brave
Doth with a goodly pair at once adorn?
LOVE SUFFERS NO PARASOL.
Those eyes, dear eyes, be spheres
Where two bright suns are roll'd, His eyes, his mouth, his temples, breast did charm.
That fair hand to behold, Thus not content (strange worship hath no end) Of whitest snow appears : To kiss the earth at last he did pretend,
Then while ye coyly stand And bowing down besought with humble grace,
To hide me from those eyes, An aged woman near to give some place :
Sweet, I would you advise She turn'd, and turning up her bole beneath,
To choose some other fan than that white hand; Said, “Sir, kiss here, for it is all but earth."
For if ye do, for truth most true this know,
PROTEUS OF MARBLE.
UNPLEASANT MUSICK. This is no work of stone,
May's tapestry to see,
“ Lo! how, alas? even birds sit mocking me!"
And if the nymph, once held of him so dear, SLEEPING BEAUTY.
Dorine the fair, would here but shed one tear, O sight, too dearly bought !
Thou should'st in nature's scorn,
A purple flow'r see of this marble born.
THE TROJAN HORSE.
Rein, rod, spur, do not fear;
When I my riders bear, • ALCON'S KISS.
Within my womb, not on my back they sit.
No streams I drink, nor care for grass or corn; What others at their ear,
Art me a monster wrought, Two pearls, Camilia at her nose did wear,
All Nature's works to scorn; Which Alcon, who nought saw,
A mother I was without mother born, (For Love is blind) robb'd with a pretty kiss;
In end all arm’d my father I forth brought : But having known his miss,
What thousand ships and champions of renown And felt what ore he from that mine did draw,
Could not do free, captiv'd I raz’d Troy's town. When she to come again did him desire, He fled, and said, foul water quenched fire.
Sweet nymphs, if as ye stray
Ye find the froth-born goddess of the sea,
All blubber'd, pale, undone,
Whose golden shafts your chastest bosons prore; So proud about thy crimson fold that grows, Who leaving all the Heavens hath run away: What doth it represent?
(rent. If aught to him that finds him she'll impart, Boar's teeth, perhaps, his milk-white Aank which Tell her he nightly lodgeth in my heart. O show, in one of unesteemed worth, That both the kill'd and killer setteth fortb!
TO A RIVER.
SITH she will not that I
Show to the world my joy, With thirst and heat opprest,
Thou, who oft mine annoy Narcissa fair doth rest,
[bring, Hast heard, dear flood, tell Thetis, if thou can, Trees, pleasant trees, which those green plains forth That not a happier man Now interlace your trembling tops above,
Doth breath beneath the sky. And make a canopy unto my love;
More sweet, more white, more fair,
Tell, none did ever touch;
Tell, never was embrac'd;
But peace, since she forbids thee tell too much.
Through envy, or through love, straight dies,
THE CRUELTY OF RORA.
AOVIẢn sisters, help my Phræne's praise to tell, Whilst sighing forth his wrongs, Phræne, heart of my heart, with whom the graces In sweet though doleful songs, dwell;
Alexis sought to charm his Rora's ears, For I surcharged am so sore that I not know
The hills were heard to moan, What first to praise of her, her breast, or neck of To sigh each spring appear’d,
[eyes, Trees, hardest trees, through rhind distilld their Her cheeks with roses spread, or her two sur-like And soft grew every stone : Her teeth of brightest pearl, her lips where sweet
But tears, nor sighs, nor songs could Rora move, ness lies :
[forth, For she rejoiced at his plaint and love. But those so praise themselves, being to all eyes set That, Muses, ye need not to say aught of their worth; Then her white swelling paps essay for to make known,
[are shown; But her white swelling paps through smallest veil Yet she hath something else, more worthy than the This first and last of joys,
Hark, happy lovers, hark,
This sweet'ner of annoys,
And half so sweet is not
At light of Sun, as it is in the dark :
In petticoat of green, Dear life, while I do touch
Her hair about her eine, These coral ports of bliss,
Phillis, beneath an oak, Which still themselves do kiss,
Sat milking ber fair flock: And sweetly me invite to do as much,
'Mongst that sweet-strained moisture (rare delight) All panting in my lips,
Her hand seem'd milk, in milk it was so white, My heart my life doth leave, No sense my senses have, And inward powers do find a strange eclipse : This death so heavenly well Doth so me please, that I Would never longer seek in sense to dwell,
To forge to mighty Jove
The thunderbolts above,
Do I desire; it for me too much:
Of all the arts practis'd beneath the sky, Maids can prove chaste, then chaste is Phoebe with. I would but Phillis’ lapidary be.
Nisa, Palemon's wife, him weeping told
Putting a short thing where a long should be.