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Another time mine eye is my heart's gueft,
And in his thoughts of love doth share a part.
So either by the picture of my love,
Thyfelf away, are prefent ftill with me;

For thou not farther than my thoughts canft move,
And I am still with them, and they with thee.
Or if they fleep, thy picture in my fight
Awakes my heart, to heart's and eyes delight.

Gareless Neglect.

How careful was I, when I took my way
Each trifle under trueft bars to thrust;
That to my use it might unused stay

From hands of falfhood, in fure wards of truft?
But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,
Moft worthy comfort, now my greatest grief:
Thou beft of deareft, and mine only care,
Are left the prey of every vulgar thief.
Thee have I not lock'd up in any cheft,
Save where thou art not; tho' I feel thou art
Within the gentle clofure of my breaft,

From whence at pleasure thou mayft come and part;
And even thence thou wilt be ftoln, I fear;
For truth proves thievifh for a prize fo dear.

Stout Refolution.

Against that time (if ever that time come)
When I fhall fee thee frown on my defects;
Whenas thy love hath caft his utmost fum,
Call'd to that audit by advis'd refpects:

Against that time, when thou fhalt ftrangely pafs,
And scarcely greet me with that fun, thine eye;

When love, converted from the thing it was,
Shall reafons find of fettled gravity:
Against that time, do I infconce me here,
Within the knowledge of mine own defert;
And this my hand against myself up-rear,
To guard the lawful reafons on thy part;
To leave poor me, thou haft the ftrength of laws,
Since why to love, I can alledge no caufe.

A Duel.

It was a lording's daughter,

The faireft one of three,

That liked of her master, as well as well might be:

Till looking on an Englishman,

The faireft eye could fee,

Her fancy fell a turning.

Long was the combat doubtful,

That love with love did fight:

To leave the mafter loveless, or kill the gallant

To put in practice either,

Alas! it was a spite.

Unto the filly damfel.


But one must be refused,

More mickle was the pain;

That nothing could be used, to turn them both to

For of the two the trufty knight

Was wounded with difdain,
Alas! fhe could not help it.

Thus art with arms contending,
Was victor of the day;



Which by a gift of learning did bear the maid away. Then, lullaby, the learned man

Hath goth the lady gay:

For now my fong is ended.


On a day (alack the day!)
Love, whofe month was ever May,
Spy'd a bloffom paffing fair,
Playing in the wanton air.

Thro' the velvet leaves the wind,
All unfeen, 'gan paffage find,
That the lover (fick to death)
Wifh'd himself the heaven's breath.
Air (quoth he) thy cheeks may blow;
Air! would I might triumph fo!
But (alas!) my hand hath fworn
Ne'er to pluck thee from thy throne;
Vow, (alack!) for youth unmeet,
Youth, fo apt to pluck a fweet;
Thou, for whom ev'n Jove would fwear
Juno but an Ethiop were;

And deny himself for Jove,

Turning mortal for thy love.

Love's Labour loft.

My flocks feed not, my ewes breed not,
My rams speed not; all is amifs :
Love is dying, faith's defying,

Heart's denying, caufer of this.

All my merry jigs are quite forgot,
All my lady's love is loft (God wot)

Where her faith was firmly fix'd in love,
There a nay is plac'd, without remove.
One filly crofs wrought all my lofs;

O! frowning fortune, curfed fickle dame!
For now I fee inconftancy

More in women than in men remain.

In black mourn I, all fears fcorn I,
Love hath forlorn me living in thrall;
Heart is bleeding, all help needing;
O! cruel fpeeding, fraughted with gall!
My fhepherd's pipe can found no deal
My weather's bell rings doleful knell;
My curtail dog, that wont to have play'd,
Plays not at all, but feems afraid.

With fighs fo deep, procures to weep
In howling wife, to fee my doleful plight;
How fighs refound thro' heartless ground,
Like a thousand vanquifh'd men in bloody fight.

Clear wells fpring not, fweet birds fing not,
Green plants bring not forth their dye;
Herds ftand weeping, flocks all fleeping,
Nymphs black peeping fearfully.

All our pleasure known to us poor swains;
All our merry meetings on the plains;
All our evening fport from us is fled;
All our love is loft, for love is dead.

Farewell, fweet love, thy like ne'er was,
For a sweet content, the cause of all my woe;
Poor Coridon must live alone,

Other help for him, I fee, that there is none.

Wholesome Counsel.

Whenas thine eye hath chofe the dame,
And ftall'd the deer that thou fhould'ft ftrike;
Let reafon rule things worthy blame,
As well as fancy (partly all might)
Take counfel of fome wifer head,
Neither too young, nor yet unwed.

And when thou com'ft thy tale to tell,
Smooth not thy tongue with filed talk;
Left the fome fubtle practice fmell:
A cripple foon can find a halt.

But plainly fay, thou lov'ft her well,
And fet her perfon forth to fale.

What tho' her frowning brows be bent,
Her cloudy looks will calm ere night;
And then too late fhe will repent,
That thus diffembled her delight;
And twice defire, ere it be day,
That which with fcorn fhe put away.

What tho' she strive to try her strength,
And ban, and brawl, and fay thee nay;
Her feeble force will yield at length,
When craft hath taught her thus to say:
Had women been fo ftrong as men,
In faith, you had not had it then.

And to her will frame all thy ways,
Spare not to spend, and chiefly there,
Where thy defert may merit praise,
By ringing in thy lady's ear:

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