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Joy crown our bowers! Philomel
Leave off Tereus' rape to tell.

Let trees dance,
As they at Thracian lyre did once :

Mountains play,
This is the shepherd's holiday.

[From " Love Tricks or the School of Complement,” 1631.)




Why do you dwell so long in clouds,

And smother your best graces ?
'Tis time to cast away those shrouds,

And clear your manly faces.

Or not behave yourselves like spies

Upon the ladies here;
On even terms go meet their eyes,

Beauty and love shine there.

You tread dull measures thus alone,

Not satisfy delight;
Go kiss their hands, and make your own

With every touch more white.

[Found in Shirley's masque of “ The Triumph of Peace," and sung while the masquers are in their revels with the ladies."]




Born about 1596.—Died 1652.

Dear, do not you fair beauty wrong, In thinking still you are too young; The rose and lilies in your cheek Flourish, and no more ripeness seek. Your cherry lip, red, soft and sweet, Proclaims such fruit for taste most meet ; Then lose no time, for love has wings,

from aged things.

And flies


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Barn about 1600-Died about 1639. He that loves a rosy cheek,

coral lip admires, Or from star-like eyes doth seek

Fuel to maintain his fires ;

old Time makes these decay, So his flames must waste away.


But a smooth and stedfast mind,

Gentle thoughts, and calm desires,
Hearts with equal love combin’d,

Kindle never dying fires.
Where these are not, I despise
Lovely cheeks, or lips, or eyes.

No tears, Celia, now shall win

My resolv'd heart to return;
I have search'd thy soul within,

And find nought but pride, and scorn;
I have learn'd thy arts and now
Can disdain as much as thou.
Some power in my revenge convey,
That love to her I cast away.

admired as he deserves.

[From “ Poemes by Thomas Carew, Esq. one of the gentlemen of the Privie-chamber, and sewer in ordinary to his Majesty Charles 1,7 Lond. 1640." Carew is a very elegant writer-though not so much

Mr. Campbell in his Specimens of the Poets after printing this very pretty song as Carew's-some hundred pages after strangely enough inserts it as an anonymous piece from “ Lawes’ Ayres and Dialogues, 1653.” See Campbell's Specimens, vol. 3, p. 192, and Ib. p. 404.]



Ask me no more where Jove bestows,
When June is past, the fading rose :
For in your beauties orient deep,
These flowers as in their causes sleep.

Ask me no more whither doe stray
The golden atoms of the day :
For in pure love Heaven did prepare
Those powders to enrich your

Ask me no more whither doth haste
The nightingale, when May is past :
Por in your sweet dividing throat
She winters, and keeps warm her note.
Ask me no more where those stars light,
That downwards fall in dead of night:
For in your eyes they sit and there
Fixed, become as in their sphere.
Ask me no more if East or West,
The Phenix builds her spicy nest :
For unto you at last she flyes,
And in your fragrant bosom dies.

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That killing power is none of thine,

it to thy voice and eyes : Thy sweets, thy graces, all are mine;

Thou art my star, shin'st in my skies ; Then dart not, from thy borrow'd sphere, Lightning on him that fix'd thee there. Tempt me with such affrights no more,

Lest what I made I uncreate : Let fools thy mystic forms adore,

I'll know thee in thy mortal state. Wise poets that wrapp'd truth in tales, Knew her themselves through all her veils.



Give me more love, or more disdain ;

The torrid or the frozen zone
Brings equal ease unto my pain;

The temperate affords me none :
Either extreme, of love, or hate,
Is sweeter than a calm estate.

Give me a storm; if it be love,

Like Danae in a golden shower I swim in pleasure; if it prove

Disdain, that torrent will devour My vulture hopes; and his possessed Of Heaven, that's but from hell releas'd: Then crown my joys, or cure my pain ; Give me more love or more disdain.

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