So much good so truly tried, Some for less were deified. Wit she has without desire To make known how much she hath; And her anger flames no higher Than may fitly sweeten wrath. Full of pity as may be, Though perhaps not so to me. Reason masters every sense, And her virtues grace her birth; Lovely as all excellence, Modest in her most of mirth: Such she is; and if you know That she be but somewhile young, That I love, and love alone. XXXIX. William Browne. LOVE'S ATTIRE. A SWEET NEGLECT. STILL be neat, still to be drest Though art's hid causes are not found, Give me a look, give me a face They strike mine eyes, but not my heart. Ben Jonson. XL. LOVE'S ATTIRE. NOT TOO PRECISE. A SWEET disorder in the dress An erring lace, which here and there I see a wild civility, Do more bewitch me, than when art Robert Herrick. XLI. LOVE'S ATTIRE. JULIA IN SILKS. WHEN as in silks my Julia goes, That liquefaction of her clothes. Next, when I cast mine eyes and see XLII. Robert Ilerrick. LOVE'S ATTIRE. BEAUTY'S Selr. My Love in her attire doth shew her wit, 1t Goth so well become her: For every season she hath dressings fit, For Winter, Spring, and Summer. No beauty she doth miss When all her robes are on: But beauty's self she is When all her robes are gone. Anonymous. XLIII. LOVE'S RESTING PLACE. LOVE in my bosom, like a bee, Now with his wings he plays with me, Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest : And if I sleep, then pierceth he And makes his pillow of my knee D Strike I the lute, he tunes the string; He lends me every lovely thing, Yet, cruel, he my heart doth sting: Else I with roses every day Will whip you hence, And bind you when you long to play, I'll shut my eyes to keep you in, I'll make you fast it for your sin, I'll count your power not worth a pin : If he gainsay me? What if I beat the wanton boy He will repay me with annoy, Because a god Then sit thou softly on my knee, Spare not, but play thee. Thomas Lodge. XLIV. LOVE OMNIPRESENT. TURN I my looks unto the skies, Love with his arrows wounds mine eyes; If so I gaze upon the ground, Love then in every flower is found; Search I the shade to fly my pain, Love meets me in the shade again; If so I bathe me in the spring, He will be partner of my moan; Thomas Lodge. XLV. LOVE EVER-PRESENT. THE stars are with the voyager, The moon is constant to her time, But follow, follow, round the world, Wherever he may be, the stars The sun may set, but constant love So that dull night is never night, And day is brighter day. Thomas Hood.. XLVI. LOVE'S ASPIRATION. FOR HER DEAR SAKE. IF doughty deeds my lady please, Right soon I'll mount my steed; And strong his arm, and fast his seat That bears frae me the meed. |