A booke of ayres, set foorth to be song to the lute, orpherian, and base violl, by Philip Rosseter lutenist: and are to be solde at his house in Fleetstreete neere to the Grayhound

A BOOKE OF AYRES , Set foorth to be song to the Lute , Orph●rian , and ●a●e Violl , by Philip Rosseter Lutenist : And are to be solde at his house in Fleetstreete neere to the Grayhound .

AT LONOND Printed by Peter Short , by the assent of Thomas Morley , 1601.

TO THE RIGHT VERTVOVS AND WORTHY KNIGHT , SIR THOMAS MOVNSON .

SIR , the generall voice of your worthines , and the manie particular fauours which I haue heard Master Campion ( with dutifull respect often acknowledge himselfe to haue receiued from you ) haue emboldned mee to present this Booke of Ayres to your fauourable iudgement , and gracious protection ; especially because the first ranke of songs are of his owne composition , made at his vacant houres , and priuately emparted to his friends , whereby they grew both publicke , and ( as coine crackt in exchange ) corrupted : some of them both words and notes vnrespectiuely challenged by others . In regard of which wronges , though his selfe neglects these light fruits as superfluous blossomes of his deeper Studies , yet hath it pleased him vpon my entreaty , to grant me the impression of part of them , to which I haue added an equall number of mine owne . And this two-faced Janus thus in one bodie vnited , I humbly entreate you to entertaine and defend , chiefely in respect of the affection which I suppose you beare him , who I am assured doth aboue all others loue and honour you . And for my part , I shall thinke my selfe happie if in anie seruice I may deserue this fauour .

Your Worships humbly deuoted , PH●●●● 〈◊〉

TO THE READER .

WHAT Epigrams are in Poetrie , the same are Ayres in musicke , then in their chiefe perfection when they are short and well seasoned . But to clogg a light song with a long Praeludium , is to corrupt the nature of it . Manie rests in Musicke were inuented either for necessitie of the fuge , or granted as a harmonicall licence in songs of many parts ▪ but in Ayres I find no vse they haue , vnlesse it be to make a vulgar , and triuiall modulation seeme to the ignorant strange , and to the iudiciall tedious . A naked Ayre without guide , or prop , or colour but his owne , is easily censured of euerie care , and requires so much the more inuention to make it please . And as Martiall speakes in defence of his short Epigrams , so may I say in th' apologie of Ayres , that where there is a full volume , there can be no imputation of shortnes . The Lyricke Poets among the Greekes , and Latines were first inuenters of Ayres , tying themselues strictly to the number , and value of their sillables , of which sort you shall find here onely one song in Saphicke verse , the rest are after the fascion of the time , eare-pleasing rimes without Arte. The subiect of them is for the most part amorous , and why not amorous songs , as well as amorous attires ? Or why not new Ayres , as well as new fascious ? For the Note and Tabl●ture , if they satisfie the most , we haue our desire , let expert masters please themselues with better . And if anie light error hath escaped vs , the skilfull may easily correct it , the vnskilfull will hardly perceiue it . But there are some , who to appeare the more deepe , and singular in their iudgement , will admit no Musicke but that which is long , intricate , bated with fuge , chaind with sincopation , and where the nature of euerie word is percisely exprest in the Note , like the old exploided action in Comedies , when it they did pronounce Memeni , they would point to the hinder part of their heads , if Video , put their finger in their eye . But such childish obseruing of words is altogether ridiculous , and we ought to maintaine as well in Notes , as in action a manly cariage , gracing no word , but that which is eminent , and emphaticall . Neuertheles , as in Poesie we giue the preheminence to the Heroicall Poeme , so in Musicke we yeeld the chiefe place to the graue , and well inuented Motet , but not to euery harsh and dull confused Fantasie , where in multitude of points the Harmonie is quite drowned . Ayres haue both their Art and pleasure , and I will conclude of them as the Poet did in his censure , of Catullus the Lyricke , and Vergil the Heroicke writer :

Tantum magna suo debet Verona Catullo : Quantum parua suo Mantua Vergilio .

A Table of halfe the Songs contained in this Booke , by T.C. I. My sweetest Lesbia II. Though you are yoong III. I care not for these Ladies IIII. Follow the faire sunne V. My loue hath vowed VI. When to her lute VII . Turne backe you wanton flier VIII . It fell on a sommers daie IX . The Sypres curten X. Follow your Saint XI . Faire if you expect admiring XII . Thou art not faire . XIII . See where she flies XIIII . Blame not my cheekes XV. When the God of merrie loue XVI . Mistris since you so much desire XVII . Your faire lookes enflame XVIII . The man of life vpright XIX . Harke all you Ladies XX. When thou must home XXI . Come let vs found with melodie .

MY sweetest Lesbia let vs liue and loue , and though the sager sort our deeds re-proue , let vs not way them heau'ns great lampes doe diue into their west , and strait againe re-uiue , but soone as once set is our little light , then must we sleepe one euer - during night , euer - during night .

When ●ime 〈…〉 my life and fortu●● 〈◊〉

II.

THough you are yoong and I am olde , though you vaines hot and my bloud colde , though youth is moist and age is drie , yet embers liue when flames doe die .

The tender graft is easely broke , But who shall shake the sturdie Oke ? You are more fresh and faire than I , Yet stubs doe liue , when flowers doe die . Thou that thy youth doest vainely boast , Know buds are soonest nipt with frost , Thinke that thy fortune still doth crie , Thou foole to morrow thou must die .

III.

I Care not for these Ladies that must be woode and praide , Giue me kind A - ma - rillis the wan - ton coun - trey maide , Nature art disdaineth , her beautie is her owne , Her when we court & kisse , she cries forsooth let go , but when we come where comfort is she ne - uer will say no.

If I loue Amarillis , She giues me fruit and flowers , But if we Loue these Ladies , We must giue golden showers , Give them 〈…〉 These Ladies must haue pillowes , And beds by strangers wrought , Giue me a Bower of willowes , Of mosse and leaues vn●●ught ▪ And fresh Amarillis

IIII.

FOllowe thy faire sunne vnhappy shaddowe though thou though thou be blacke as night and she made all of light , yet follow thy faire sunne vn - hap - pie shaddowe .

Follow her whose light thy light depriueth , Though here thou liu'st disgrac't , And she in heauen is plac't , Yet follow her whose light the world reuiueth . Follow these 〈◊〉 beames ●hose beau●ie 〈◊〉 Follow her while yet her glorie shineth , There comes a luckles night , That will dim all her light , And this the black vnhappie shade deuineth .

My loue hath vowd hee will for sake mee and I am al - rea - die sped . Far o - ther pro - mise he did make me when he had my mai - den head . If such danger be in playing , and sport must to earnest turne , I will go no more a maying .

2 Had I foreseene what is ensued , And what now with paine I proue , Vnhappie then I had eschewed , This vnkind euent of loue , Maides foreknow their owne vndooing , But feare naught till all is done , When a man alone is wooing , 3 Dissembling wretch to gaine thy pleasure , What didst thou not vow and sweare ? So didst thou rob me of the treasure , Which so long I held so deare , Now thou prou'st to me a stranger , Such is the vile guise of men , When a woman is in danger . 4 That hart is neerest to misfortune , That will trust a fained toong , When flattring men our loues importune ▪ They entend vs deepest wrong , If this 〈◊〉 of loues 〈◊〉 ,

VI.

WHen to her lute Corrina sings , her voice reuiues the lea - den stringes , and doth in highest noates appeare as any challeng'd eccho cleere , but when she doth of mour-ning speake , eu'n with her sighes her sighes , ii . the strings do breake the strings do breake .

And as her lute doth liue or die , Led by her passion , so must I , For when of pleasure she doth sing , My thoughts enioy a sodaine spring , But if she doth of 〈…〉

VII .

TVrne backe you wanton flyer , and answere my de - sire with mutuall greeting , Yet bende a lit - tle neerer , true beauty stil shines cleerer in closer meeting , Harts with harts delighted should striue to be v - ni - ted , either others armes with armes enchay-ning , harts with a thought , rosie lips with a kisse still en - tertai - ning .

What haruest halfe so sweete is , As still to reape the kisses , Growne ripe in sowing , And 〈…〉 , 〈…〉 . There 's no strickt obseruing , Of times , or seasons changing , There is euer one fresh spring abiding , Then what we sow with our lips

VIII .

IT fell on a sommers day while sweete Bessie sleeping laie in her ●owre , on her bed , light with curtaines shadowed , la - my came shee him spies opning halfe her hea-uie eies .

Iamy stole in through the dore , She lay slumbring as before , Softly to her he drew neere , She heard him , yet would not heare , Bessie vow'd not to speake , She dreamp't not what he would doo , But still slept , while he smild To see loue by steepe beguild .

IX .

THe Sypres curten of the night is spread , and o - uer The weaker cares by sleepe are conquered , but I a - all a si-lent dewe is cast , lone with hi - dious griefe , a - gast . In s ; pite of Mor-pheus charmes a watch doe keepe o - uer mine eies to ba - nish carelesse sleepe .

Yet oft my trembling eyes through faintnes close , And then the Mappe of hell before me stands , Which Ghosts doe see , and I am one of those , Ordain'd to pine in sorrowes endles bands , Since from my wretched soule all hopes are reft , And now no cause of life to me is left . Griefe ceaze my soule , for that will still endure , When my cra●'d bodie is consum'd and gone ,

FOllow your Saint follow with accets sweet , There wrapt in cloud of Haste you sad noates fall at her flying feete , But if she scorns my sorrowe pitie moue , And tell the rauisher of my soule , I pe-rish for her loue . ne - uer ceasing paine , Then burst with sighing in her sight , And nere re-turne a - gaine .

All that I soong still to her praise did tend , Still she was first , still she my songs did end , Yet she my loue , and Musicke both doeth flie , The Musicke that her Eccho is , and beauties simpathie ; Then let my Noates pursue her scornefull flight , and dyed for her delight .

XI .

FAire if you ex - pect ad - miring , sweet if you prouoke de-si-ring - ring , grace deere Fond but if thy sight be blindnes , false if thou af - fect vnkindnes , flie both loue with kinde re - qui - ring , loue and loues de ligh - ting , Then when hope is lost and loue is scorned , lie bury my desires , and quench the fires that euer yet in vaine haue burned .

Fates , if you rule louers fortune , Stars , if men your powers importune , Yield reliefe by your relenting ▪

XII .

THou art not faire for all thy red & white , for all those Thou art not sweet though made of meet delight , not faire not ●o - sie or - na●ments in thee , sweet vnlesse thou pi - tie mee , I will not sooth thy fancies thou shall proue , That beauty is no beau-tie without loues .

Yet loue not me , nor seeke thou to allure My thoughts with beutie were it more deuine , Thy smiles and kisses I cannot endure , 〈…〉 in those armes of thine ,

XIII .

SEe where she flies enrag'd from me , view her when she intends de - Her fu - rie mou'd such terror makes , as to a fearfull guiltie spite , the winde is not more swift then shee , sprite , the voice of heau'ns huge thun-der cracks , But when her appeased minde yeelds to de - light , All her thoughts are made of ioies , millions of de - lights inuen - ting - Other plea - sures are but toies , to her beauties sweete conten - ting .

My fortune hangs vpon her brow , For as she smiles , or frownes on mee , So must my blowne affections bow , And her proude thoughts too well do find , W●●● what vnequall tyranni● ▪ Though when her sad planet raignes , Froward she bee , She alone can pleasure moue , And displeasing sorrow banish , May I 〈◊〉 still hold her loue ,

XIIII .

BLame not my cheeks though pale with loue they be , the kind - ly To che - rish it that is dis - maid by thee , who art so heate ●●k● my heart is flowne , cru - ell and vn-steedfast growne , For na - ture cald for by distressed harts , neg-lects and quite for - sakes the out - ward partes .

But they whose cheekes with careles blood are stain'd , Nurse not one sparke of loue within their harts , And when they woe they speake with passion fain'd For their 〈◊〉 loue lyes in their outward parts ,

XV.

WHen the god of merrie loue as yet in his cradle lay , thus his wither'd nurse did say , Thou a wanton boy wilt proue , to deceius the powers aboue , for by thy continuall smiling , I see thy power of beguiling .

Therewith she the babe did kisse , When a sodaine fire out came From those burning lips of his , That did her with loue enfame , But 〈◊〉 would regard the ●●me ▪

XVI .

MIstris since you so much desire , to know the place of Cupids fire , in your faire ▪ shrine that flame doth rest , yet neuer harbourd in your brest , it bides not in your lips so sweet nor ▪ where the rose and lil - lies meete , but a little higher 〈…〉 ii . ii . there there , O there lies Cupids fire .

〈◊〉 in those 〈◊〉 pearcing eyes , There Cupid● 〈…〉 Nor w●●● for a smi●e , or kis●e ,

XVII .

YOur faire lookes enflame my desire , quench it a-gaine with loue , Stay , O striue not still to retire , doe not in humane proue , 〈…〉 ●erswade loues pleasures d●●r● de-nie not , hee●e is a si-lent grouie shade O tar - rie then and flie not .

Haue I seaz'd my heauenly delight In this vnhaunted groue ? Time shall now her furie requite With the reuenge of loue , Then come , sweetest come My lips with kisses gracing , Here let vs harbour all alone , 〈…〉 embra●ing . Will you now so timely depart And not returne againe , Your sight lends such life to my hart , That to depart is paine . Feare yeelds no delay , Securenes helpe in pleasure , Then till the time giues safer stay , O farewell my 〈…〉

XVIII .

THe man of life vpright whose guiltlesse hart is free , from all disho - nest deedes or thought of vanitie .

2 The man whose silent dayes In harmeles ioyes are spent , Whome hopes cannot delude , Nor sorrow discontent . 3 That man needes neither towers Nor armour for defence , Nor secret vautes to flie From thunders violence . 4 The horrours of the deepe , And terrours of the Skies . 5 Thus scorning all the cares That fate , or fortune brings , He makes the heau'n his booke , His wisedome heeu'nly things , 6 Good thoughts his onely friendes , His wealth a well-spentage The 〈◊〉 his sober 〈◊〉

XIX .

HArke al you ladies that do sleep , The fayry queen Pro - serpina bids you awake and pitie them that weep , you may doe in the darke what the day doth forbid , feare not the dogs that barke night will haue all hid .

2 But if you let your louers mone , the Fairie Queene Proserpina Will send abroad her Fairies eu'rie one , that shall pinch blacke and blew ; Your white hands , and faire armes , that did not kindly rue Your Paramours harmes . 3 In Myrt●e Arbours on the downes , The Fairie Queene Pro●er●in● , This nig●t by 〈…〉 4 All you that will hold watch with loue , the Fairie Queene Proserpina , Will make you fairer then Diones doue , Roses red , Lillies white , And the cleare damaske hue shall on your cheekes alight , Loue will adorne you . 5 All you that loue , or lou'd before , the Fairie Queene Pro●e●●i●●

XX.

WHen thou must home to shades of vn - der ground , and there a - The beauteous spirits do ingirt thee round , white I - o - riu'd a newe ad - mi - red guest , pe , blith Hellen , and the rest , To heare the stories of thy finisht loue , from that smoothe roong whose mu-sicke can moue .

Then wilt thou speake of banqueting delights , Of masks and reuels which sweete youth did make , Of Turnies and great challenges of knightes , And all these triumphes for thy beau●ies 〈◊〉

XXI .

COme let vs sound with melody the praises of the kings king , Th' omni - potent cre - a - tor , Author of number , that hath all the world in harmonie framed .

Heau'n is his throne perpetually shining , His deuine power and glorie thence he thunders , One in all , and all still in one abiding , Both Father , and Sonne . O sacred sprite inuisible , eternall , Eu'ry where , yet vnlimited , that all things Canst in one moment penetrate , reuiue me O holy Spirit . 〈◊〉 , O re●eue me from earthly darkne● , Guide my soule , that thirsts , to the liuely Fountaine Of thy deuinenes . Cleanse my soule , O God , thy bespotted Image , Altered with sinne , so that heau'nly purenes Cannot acknowledge me but in thy mercies O Father of grace . But when once thy beames do remoue my darknes , O then I 'le shine forth as an Angell of light , And record with more than an earthly voice thy Infinite 〈◊〉

A Table of the rest of the Songs contained in this Booke , made by Philip Rosseter . I. Sweete come againe II. And would you see III. No graue for woe IIII. If I vrge my kinde desires V. What hearts content VI. Let him that will be free VII . Reproue not loue VIII . And would you faine IX . When Laura smiles X. Long haue mine eies XI . Though far from ioy XII . Shall I come if I swim XIII . Aie me that loue XIIII . Shall then a trayterous XV. If I hope I pine XVI . Vnlesse there were consent XVII . If she forsakes me XVIII . What is a daie XIX . Kind in vnkindnesse XX. What then is loue but XXI . Whether men doe laugh

SWeete come againe , your happie sight so - much desir'd since you from hence are now retir'd I seeke in vaine , stil must I mourn , & pine in longing paine , till you my liues de-light a - gaine vouch - safe your wisht returne .

If true desire , Or faithfull vow of endles loue , Thy heart enflam'd may kindly moue With equall fire ; O then my ioies . So long destraught shall rest , Reposed soft in thy ch●st brest , Exempt from all 〈◊〉 ▪ Now it is growne Confirm'd , do you it keepe , And let it safe in your bosome sleepe , There euer made your owne . And till we meete , Teach abience inward 〈…〉

II.

ANd would you see my Mistris face , it is a flowrie garden place , where knots of beauties haue such grace , that all is worke and no where space ▪

It is a sweete delicious morne , where day is breeding neuer borne , It is a Meadow yet unshorne , whome thousand flowers do adorne . It is the heaunes bright reflexe , weake eies to dazle and to vexe , It is th' Idea of her sexe , enuie of whome doth world perplexe . It is a face of death that smiles , pleasing , though it killes the whiles , Where death and loue in pretie wiles , each other mutuallie beguiles . It is faire beauties freshest youth , it is the fain'd Eliziums truth , The soring that winter'd harts renu'th , ●nd 〈◊〉 is that my soule 〈◊〉 .

III.

NO graue for woe , yet earth my watrie teares deuoures , sighes want ayre , and burnt desires kind pitties showres , Stars hold their fatal course loies pre - uen - ting , the earth , the sea , the aire , the fire , the heau'ns vow my tor - men - ting .

Yet still I liue and waste my wearie daies in grones , And with wofull tunes adorne dispayring mones , Night still ●repar●● a more disp●easing 〈◊〉 ,

IIII.

IF I vrge my kinde desires , she vnkind doth them reiect , womens hearts are painted fires to deceiue them affect , I alone loues fires include , shee alone doth them delude .

Shee hath often vow'd her loue , But also no fruit I finde . That her fires are false I proue , Yet in her no fault I finde , ● was 〈◊〉 vnhappy 〈…〉 And 〈…〉 Yet if humane care , or paine May the heau'nly order change , She will hate her owne disdaine , And repent she was so strange ,

WHat harts con - tent can he finde , what happy sleepes can his eies em - brace that beares His tast sweet wines will abhorre , no musicks sounde can appease thoughts that wic - a guiltie minde , ked deeds deplore , The passion of a present feare , stil makes his restles motion there , & all the day hee dreads the night , and all the night a one agast hee feares the morning light .

But he that loues to be lou'd , And in his deedes doth adore heauens power , And is with pitie mou'd ; The night giues rest to his heart , The 〈◊〉 beames do awake his soule ▪

VI.

LEt him that will be free & keep his hart from care , retir'd a - lone re-maine where no dis - comforts are , for when the ele doth view his griefe , or haplesse eare his sorrow heares , Th' - impression still in him a - bides , and euer in one shape appeares .

Forget thy griefes betimes , long sorrow breedes long paine , for ioie farre fled from men will not returne againe , O happie is the soule which heauen ordained , to liue in endles peace , His life is a pleasing dreame , and euerie house his ioyes encrease . You ●ea●ie so●ites that loue in seue●'d 〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉

VII .

REproue not loue though fondly thou hast lost grea-ter hopes by lo-uing , loue calms abicious spirits from their brests danger oft re - mo - uing , Let lo●●y humors mount vpon high , down againe like to the wind , while priuat thoghts vow'd to loue , more peace & plesure find .

Loue and sweete beautie makes the stubborne milde , And the coward fearelesse , The wretched misers care to bountie turnes , Cheering all things cheerelesse ; Loue chaines the earth and heauen , Turnes the Spheare● , guides the ●eares in en●●es 〈◊〉 ▪

VIII .

ANd would you faine the reason know , why my sad eies so of - ten flow ? my heart ebs ioy when they doe so , and loues the moone by whom they go .

And will you aske why pale I looke ? t is not with poring on my booke , My Mistris cheeke my blond hath tooke , for her mine owne hath me forsooke . Doe not demaund why I am mute , loues silence doth all speech confute , They set the noat then tune the Lute , harts frame their thoughts then toongs their suit . Do enot admire why I admire , my feuer is no others fire , E●ch se●erall heart hath his desire ▪ If why I loue you should see cause , loue should haue forme like other lawes , But fancie pleads not by the clawes , t is as the sea still vext with flawes . No fault vpon my loue espie , for you perceiue not with my eie , My pallate to your tast may lie , yet please it selfe deliciously . Then let my sufferance be mine owne , ●u●●●ceth it these reasons showne ▪ Reason and loue 〈…〉

IX .

WHen Laura smiles her sight re-uiues both night and day , The earth & heauen viewes with de - light her wan - ton play , And her speech with euer - flowing musicke doth repaire , the cruell wounds of sorrow and vntamd despaire .

The sprites that remaine in fleeting aire , Affect for pastime to vntwine her tressed haire , And the birds thinke sweete Aurora mornings Queene doth shine , From her bright sphere when Laura shewes her lookes deuine . Dianas eyes are not adorn'd with greater power , Then Lauras when she lifts awhile for sport to loure , But when she her eyes encloseth , blindnes doth appeare , The chiefest grace of beautie sweetelie seated there . Loue hath no fire but what he steals from her bright eyes , Time hath no power , but that which in her pleasure lyes ,

LOng haue mine eies gaz'd with delight conueying hopes vn - to my soule in nothing happy but in sight , of her that doth my sight controule , but now mine eies , ii . but now mine eies must loose their light .

My obiect now must be the aire , To write in water words of fire , And teach sad thoughts how to despaire , Dese●● must quarrell with desire For all my comfort this I proue , That Venus on the Sea was borne , If Seas be calme then doth she loue , If stormes arise I am f●r●orne ,

XI .

THough far from ioy , my sorrowes are as far , and I both betweene , not too low , nor yet too high aboue my reach would I bee seene , happy is he that so is placed , not to be enui'd , not bee disdain'd or dis - gra-ced.

The higher trees , the more stormes they endure , Shrubs be troden downe , But the meane , the golden meane , Doth onely all our fortunes crowne .

XII .

SHall I come if I swim ? wide are the waues you see , shall I come if I 〈◊〉 my deer● loue to thee ? streames Venus will appease , Cupid giues me winges , all the powers as - sist my desire , saue you alone that set my wofull heart on fire .

You are faire , so was Hero that in Sestos dwelt , She a priest , yet the heate of loue truly felt , A greater streame then this did her loue deuide , 〈◊〉 she was his guide with a light .

XIII .

AYe me that loue that loue should natures workes accuse , where cruell Laura still her beautie viewes . River or cloud●● 〈◊〉 , or christall bright are all but seruants of her selfe delight .

Yet her deformed thoughts she cannot see , And that s the cause she is so sterne to mee , Vertue and duetis can no fauour gaine , A griefe , ● death , ●o liue an●●oue i●●●ine ▪

XIIII .

SHall then a traiterous kis or a smile , all my delights vnhappily be - guiles shall the vow of ●ay●●● loue 〈…〉 regard ▪ when true seruice dies negle - cted and wants his due reward ?

Deedes meritorious soone be forgot , But one offence no time can euer blot , Euery day it is renu'd , and euery night it bleedes , And with bloudy streames of sorrow drownes all our better deedes .

XV.

IF I hope I pine , if I feare I faint and die , so betweene hope and feare I desp'rat lie , looking for ioy 〈…〉 come but hope is blinde , ioy deafe , and I am dumbe .

Yet I speake and crie , but alas with words of wo , And ioy conceiues not them that murmure so , He that the eares of ioy will euer pearse , Must sing glad noates , or speake in happier verse .

XVI .

VNlesse there were con-sent twixt hell and heauen that grace and wickednes should be combind , I cannot make thee & thy beauties euen , thy face is heauen , and tor - ture in thy minde , for more then worldly blisse is in thy eie , and hellish tor - ture in thy minde doth lie .

XVII .

IF she for - sake me I must die , shall I tell her so . Alas then strait wil she re-plie , no no no no no. If I disclose my desp'rat state she will but make sport thereat and more vn - relenting grow .

2 What heart can long such paines abide , Fie vppon this loue , I would aduenture farre and wide , If it would remoue , But loue will still my steppes pursue , I cannot his wayes eschew , Thus still helpeles hopes I proue . 3 I doe my loue in lines commend , But alas in vaine , The costly gifts that I doe find , she returnes againe ,

XVIII .

WHat is a day , what is a yeere of vaine delight and pleasure ? like to a dreame it endlesse dies , and from vs like a vapour flies , and this is all the fruit that we finde , which glorie in worldly trea - sure ,

He that will hope for true delight , With vertue must be graced , Swee●e 〈◊〉 yeelds a bitter tast ▪

XIX .

KInde in vnkindnesse when will you relent , and cease with faint loue true loue to tor - ment still entertain'd , exclu - ded still I stand , her gloue stil holde , but cannot touch the hand .

In her faire hand my hopes and comforts rest , O might my fortunes with that hand be blest , No enuious breaths then my deserts could shake , For they are good , who such true loue doth make . O let not beautie so forget her birth , That 〈◊〉 ●hould 〈◊〉 home returne 〈…〉 Loue one that onely liues in louing you , Whose wrong'd deserts would you with pity view , This strange distast which your affections swaies , Would relish loue , and you find better daies . Thus all my happie sight your beautie viewes , Whose 〈…〉

XX.

WHat then is loue but mourning , what desire but a selfe-bur-ning , till shee that hates doth loue returne , thus will I mourne , thus will I sing come away , come away , my darling .

Beautie is but a blooming , Youth in his glorie entombing ; Time hath a while which none can stay , Then come away while thus I sing , Come away , come away my darling . Sommer in winter fadeth , Gloomie night heau'nly light shadeth , Like to the morne are Venus flowers , Such are her ●●wers , ●h●● wi●●●●ing

XXI .

WHether men doe laugh or weepe , whether they doe wake or sleepe , whether they die yoong or olde , whether they ●ee●e heate or colde , there is 〈…〉 nothing in true earnest done .

All our pride is but a iest , None are worst , and none are best , Griefe , and ioy , and hope , and feare , Play their Page●●●● euery where . Powers aboue in cloudes doe sit , Mocking our poore apish wit , That so lamely with such ●●ate ▪ T●●ir ●●gh gl●ri● 〈…〉