TO A SWALLOW BUILDING NEAR THE STATUE OF MEDEA. FOND Progne, chattering wretch, Wilt thou thy younglings hatch? Will she keep thine, her own who could not spare? Learn from her frantic face To seek some fitter place. What other may'st thou hope for, what desire, Save Stygian spells, wounds, poison, iron, fire? DAPHNIS. Now Daphnis' arms did grow In slender branches; and her braided hair, In leafy twigs was stretched in the air; A tender bark enwraps her body fair. Sore wailing stood, and from his blubber'd eyne When that doth woe increase should bring relief. VENUS ARMED. To practice new alarms In Jove's great court above, Of sleeping Mars put on the horrid arms; To see what thing she was, To mock and scoff the blue-eyed maid did move; Who said, "Sweet queen, thus should you have been dight When Vulcan took you napping with your knight." THE BEAR OF LOVE. IN woods and desert bounds A beast abroad doth roam; So loving sweetness and the honey-comb, To prove what Heav'ns did place Rest careless (bear of love) of hellish smart, THE BOAR'S HEAD. AMIDST a pleasant green Where play'd Anchises with the Cyprian queen, Did fall, and wound the lovely youth beneath; So much of blood as Venus' eyes shed tears. My Adon, whilst thou liv'd, was by thee slain ; TO AN OWL. ASCALAPHUS, tell me, So may night's curtain long time cover thee, From irksome light keep thy chamber and bed; So may'st thou scorn the choristers of day- Near to the sacred window of my dear, To wake, and steal swift hours from drowsy sleep? If that deaf god doth yet her careless keep, FIVE SONNETS FOR GALATEA. I. STREPHON, in vain thou bring'st thy rhymes and songs, Of such old sighs thou dost discharge thy breast; II. No more with candid words infect mine ears; guish ; No more in sweet despite say you spend tears. III. YB who with curious numbers, sweetest art, IV. If it be love, to wake out all the night, More furious flames than his whose cunning wrought If thou wouldst see threads purer than the gold, But take this glass, and thy fair hair behold. Take but this glass, and on thy forehead look. Look but in glass how thy sweet lips do close. Whose thorns do hurt each heart? But take this glass, and gaze upon thine eyne. V. AND would you then shake off Love's golden chain, ill they embrace lov'd banks, then post away: SONNET. ARE'S charming sleep, son of the sable night, rother to death, in silent darkness born, estroy my languish ere the day be light, With dark forgetting of my care's return; nd let the day be long enough to mourn he shipwreck of my ill-adventur'd youth; et wat'ry eyes suffice to wail their scorn, ithout the troubles of the night's untruth. ease, dreams, fond image of my fond desires! model forth the passions of to morrow; Et never rising Sun approve your tears, add more grief to aggravate my sorrow: ll let me sleep, embracing clouds in vain, ad never wake to feel the day's disdain, YOL. V. IDMON TO VENUS. TO THAUMANTIA. COME, let us live, and love, And kiss, Thaumantia mine; IF, Acidalia's queen, Thou quench in me thy torch, And with the same Thaumantia's heart shalt scorch, I shall the elm be, he to me the vine; Each year a myrtle tree Here I do vow to consecrate to thee: And when the meads grow green, I will of sweetest flowers Weave thousand garlands to adorn thy bow'rs. Come, let us teach new billing to the dove: Let souls e'en other kiss. Let love a workman be, Undo, distemper, and his cunning prove, Of kisses three make one, of one make three: Though Moon, Sun, stars, be bodies far more bright, Let them not vaunt they match us in delight. A LOVER'S DAY AND NIGHT. For me in Thetis' bow'rs for ever stay; Ne'er show for me thy star-embroidered robe, For when she low'rs, and hides from me her eyes, DAPHNIS VOW. WHEN Sun doth bring the day Or Moon her coach doth roll Above the northern pole, Then may it be, but in no time till then, THE STATUE OF VENUS SLEEPING. BREAK not my sweet repose, Thou, whom free will, or chance, brings to this place, Let lids these comets close, O do not seek to see their shining grace: For when mine eyes thou seest, they thine will blind, And thou shalt part, but leave thy heart behind. ANTHEA'S GIFT. THIS virgin lock of hair Though oft she mix his hopes with cold despair: ANOTHER. THY Muse not-able, full, il-lustred rhymes Make thee the poetaster of our times. 691 FLORA'S FLOWER. VENUS doth love the rose; But Flore likes none of those; For fair to her no flow'r seems save the lily; And why? Because one letter turns it P at hath a light delight, -r fool! contented only with a sight; NIOBE. WRETCH'D Niobe I am; Let wretches read my case, Not such who with a tear ne'er wet their face. And sons as many, which one fatal day, Thus reft by Heavens unjust, Grief turn'd me stone, stone too doth me entomb; Which if thou dost mistrust, Of this hard rock but ope the flinty womb, And here thou shalt find marble, and no dust. CHANGE OF LOVE. ONCE did I weep and groan, Drink tears, draw loathed breath, Who did affect my death: But now, thanks to disdain ! I live reliev'd of pain. For sighs I singing go, I burn not as before-no, no, no, no! WILD BEAUTY. en this doth sport, and swell with dearest food, Ip all but ice thou be, , if he die, he knight-like dies in blood. How dost thou thus me burn? Or how at fire which thou dost raise in me, Of ice art marble made, to my disgrace. O miracle of love, not heard till now! Cold ice doth burn, and hard by fire doth grow. CONSTANT LOVE. TIME makes great states decay, Time doth May's pomp disgrace, Time draws deep furrows in the fairest face, Time wisdom, force, renown, doth take away; Time doth consume the years, Time changes works in Heaven's eternal spheres ; TO CHLORIS. SEE, Chloris, how the clouds Tilt in the azure lists; And now with Stygian mists Each horned hill his giant forehead shrouds. Jove thund'reth in the air; The air, grown great with rain Now seems to bring Deucalion's days again: I see thee quake: come, let us home repair; Come, hide thee in mine arms, If not for love, yet to shun greater harms. THYRSIS IN DISPRAISE OF BEAUTY. THAT which so much the doating world doth prize, As in delicious meads beneath the flow'rs, Good thence is chas'd where beauty doth appear; The flow'r and fruit, which virtue's tree should bear, From angry Heaven, to scourge this lower world. As fruits which are unripe, and sour of taste, Foul may my lady be; and may her nose, I shall not fear thus, though she stray alone, EURYMEDON'S PRAISE OF MIRA. GEM of the mountains, glory of our plains! Rare miracle of nature, and of love! Sweet Atlas, who all beauty's Heavens sustains, No, beauty's Heaven, where all her wonders move; The Sun, from east to west who all doth see, On this low globe sees nothing like to thee. One phenix only liv'd ere thou wast born, And Earth but did one queen of love admire, Three Graces only did the world adorn, But thrice three Muses sung to Phoebus' lyre; Two phenixes be now, love's queens are two, Four Graces, Muses ten, all made by you. For those perfections which the bounteous Heaven To divers worlds in divers times assign'd, |