My passion with your beauty grew, To make a lover, he Employ'd the utmost of his art— To make a beauty, she. Sir C. Sedley CVII CONSTANCY I cannot change, as others do, Since that poor swain that sighs for you, No, Phyllis, no, your heart to move And to revenge my slighted love, Will still love on, and die. When, kill'd with grief, Amintas lies, The sighs that now unpitied rise, The tears that vainly fall, That welcome hour that ends his smart For such a faithful tender heart Can never break in vain. J. Wilmot, Earl of Rochester CVIII COUNSEL TO GIRLS Gather ye rose-buds while ye may, And this same flower that smiles to-day, The glorious Lamp of Heaven, the Sun, That age is best which is the first, Then be not coy, but use your time; R. Herrick CIX TO LUCASTA, ON GOING TO THE WARS Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, True, a new mistress now I chase, Yet this inconstancy is such I could not love thee, Dear, so much, Colonel Lovelace CX ELIZABETH OF BOHEMIA You meaner beauties of the night, More by your number than your light, You common people of the skies, That warble forth dame Nature's lays, By your weak accents; what's your praise When Philomel her voice doth raise? You violets that first appear, By your pure purple mantles known Like the proud virgins of the year, As if the spring were all your own,- So when my Mistress shall be seen Sir H. Wotton CXI TO THE LADY MARGARET LEY Daughter to that good Earl, once President Till the sad breaking of that Parliament Kill'd with report that old man eloquent ; Though later born than to have known the days Wherein father flourish'd, yet by you, Madam, methinks I see him living yet; your So well your words his noble virtues praise, J. Milton CXH THE TRUE BEAUTY He that 'oves a rosy cheek Or a coral ip admires, But a smooth and steadfast mind, Gende thoughts, and aim desires, Kindle never-dying fres:— T. Carew CXIII TO DIANEME Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes R. Herrick CXIV Love in thy youth, fair Maid, be wise; And though each morning new arise Thou as Heaven art fair ana young, All these will be declining. Then winter comes with all his fears, Too late then wilt thou shower thy tears,— Anon. CXV Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her, that wastes her me and me, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, In deserts, where no men abide, Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired : Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee: How small a part of time they share E. Waller |