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And simple truth miscall'd simplicity,

And captive Good attending captain Ill :

.-

-Tired with all these, from these would I be gone, Save that, to die, I leave my Love alone!

Shakespeare.

LXVIII.

PHILOMELA'S ODE.

SITTING by a river's side,
Where a silent stream did glide,
Muse I did of many things,
That the mind in quiet brings.
I 'gan think how some men deem
Gold their god; and some esteem
Honour is the chief content,

That to man in life is lent.
And some others do contend,
Quiet none, like to a friend.
Others hold there is no wealth
Compared to a perfect health.
Some man's mind in quiet stands,
When he is lord of many lands:
But I did sigh, and said all this
Was but a shade of perfect bliss;
And in my thoughts I did approve,
Nought so sweet as is true love.
Love 'twixt lovers passeth these,
When mouth kisseth and heart 'grees,

With folded arms and lips meeting,
Each soul another sweetly greeting;

For by the breath the soul fleeteth,
And soul with soul in kissing meeteth.

If love be so sweet a thing,

That such happy bliss doth bring,

Happy is love's sugared thrall,
But unhappy maidens all,

Who esteem your virgin blisses
Sweeter than a wife's sweet kisses.

No such quiet to the mind,

As true Love with kisses kind:

But if a kiss prove unchaste,

Then is true love quite disgraced.

Though love be sweet, learn this of me,

No sweet love but honesty.

Robert Greene.

LXIX.

MUSIC'S DOMINION.

ORPHEUS with his lute made trees,
And the mountain tops that freeze,
Bow themselves when he did sing:
To his music plants and flowers
Ever sprung; as sun and showers

There had made a lasting spring.

Everything that heard him play,
Even the billows of the sea,

Hung their heads, and then lay by

In sweet music is such art,

Killing care and grief of heart,
Fall asleep, or hearing, die.

Shakespeare

James 3.

LXX.

SONG FROM "VALENTIAN."

HEAR, ye ladies that despise,
What the mighty Love has done;
Fear examples and be wise :

Fair Calisto was a nun;
Leda, sailing on the stream
To deceive the hopes of man,
Love accounting but a dream,
Doated on a silver swan;

Danaë, in a brazen tower,

Where no love was, loved a shower.

Hear, ye ladies that are coy,

What the mighty Love can do ;

Fear the fierceness of the boy :

The chaste moon he made to woo;

Vesta, kindling holy fires,

Circled round about with spies,

Never dreaming loose desires,

Doating at the altar dies ;

Ilion, in a short hour, higher

He can build, and once more fire.

John Fletcher.

LXXI.

MAY-DAY.

GET up, get up for shame! the blooming morn
Upon her wings presents the god unshorn.
See how Aurora throws her fair
Fresh-quilted colours through the air :
Get up, sweet Slug-a-bed, and see
The dew bespangling herb and tree.

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