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Sweet Cytherea, sitting by a brook,
Then fell she on her back, fair queen, and toward;
II. Scarce had the sun dried up the dewy morn, And scarce the herd gone to the hedge for shade, When Cytherea, all in love forlorn, A longing tarriance for Adonis made, Under an osier growing by a brook, A brook, where Adon us’d to cool his spleen. Hot was the day; she hotter that did look
For his approach, that often there had been.
He spying her, bounc'd in, whereas he stood;
Fair was the morn, when the fair queen of love,
Paler for sorrow than her milk-white dove,
She showed hers; he saw more wounds than one,
Venus with (young) Adonis sitting by her,
i Here a line has dropped out.
Even thus, quoth she, the warlike god embrac'd me;
Ah! that I had my lady at this bay,
Crabbed age and youth
Cannot live together;
Age is full of care:
Age like winter weather;
Age like winter bare.
Youth is nimble, age is lame:
Youth is wild, and age is tame.
O, my love, my love is young!
O sweet shepherd, hie thee,
For methinks thou stay'st too long !
Sweet rose, fair flower, untimely pluck'd, soon
I weep for thee, and yet no cause I have ;
O yes, dear friend, I pardon crave of thee;
Fair is my love, but not so fair as fickle,
2 raded] Malone throughout these fragments altered the word to faded, which is generally considered as synonymous; yet Bruthwaite, in his Strappado for the Devil, 1615, (the ex. act reference to which I have mislaid,) speaks of “no fading, rading flower,” and other poets make the same distinction between the words.
A lily pale, with damask die to grace her,
Her lips to mine how often hath she join’d, Between each kiss her oaths of true love swearing! How many tales to please me hath she coin’d, Dreading my love, the loss thereof still fearing!
Yet in the midst of all her pure protestings, Her faith, her oaths, her tears and all were jest
She burn'd with love, as straw with fire flameth,
Was this a lover, or a lecher whether ?
VIII. Did not the heavenly rhetorick of thine eye, 'Gainst whom the world could not hold argument, Persuade my heart to this false perjury? Vows for thee broke deserve not punishment. A woman I forswore ; but I will prove, Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee: My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love; Thy grace being gain'd, cures all disgrace in me. My vow was breath, and breath a vapour is ; Then thou fair sun, that on this earth doth shine, Exhale this vapour vow ; in thee it is. If broken, then it is no fault of mine.