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Here shall I bring you two the most entire And constant lovers that were ever seen,
FROM THE SAML.
HAD sorrow ever fitter place
To act his part, The still spectators must expect to have.
Than is my heart, For these are only Cynthia's recreatives
Where it takes up all the space? Made unto Phæbus, and are feminine;
Where is no vein And therefore must be gentle like to her,
To entertain Whose sweet affections mildly move and stir.
A thought that wears another face. And here, with this white wand will I effect
Nor will I sorrow ever have As much as with my flaming torch of love:
Therein to be And with the power thereof, affections move
But only thee, In these fair nymphs and shepherds round about.
To whom I full possession gave:
Thou in thy name
Must hold the same,
SONG OF THE FIRST CHORUS
FROM THE SAME.
Love is a sickness full of woes,
All remedies refusing :
A plant that with most cutting grors,
Most barren with best using.
Why so ?
Love is a torment of the mind,
A tempest everlasting;
Not well, nor full nor fasting.
If not enjoyd, it sighing cries,
SONG OF THE SECOND CHORUS
FROM THE SAME.
Disquiet Jealousy, vile Fury, thou
And therefore, hideous furies, get you bence,
Desire, that is of things ungot,
See what travail it procureth,
And how much the mind endureth,
For never was it paid,
The charge defray'd,
Hymen, thou canst not chase us so away,
Eyes, hide my love and do not show
To any but to her my notes,
Wherewith we pass our secret thoughts:
Whilst that she (O cruel maid)
Doth me and my love despise,
My life's fourish is decay'd,
That depended on her eyes :
But her will must be obey'd,
And well he ends, for love who dies.
erer fiter ple2 This part,
ULYSSES AND THE SYREN.
Eds op all the smart
QUESTION. ES DO TE
WERE ever chaste and honest hearts tain
Expos'd unto so great distresses ? Towerer le
ANSWER. to be
: they that act the worthiest parts,
Most commonly have worst successes ; Ell parsesta y Great fortunes follow not the best, thr came
It 's virtue that is most distress'd.
The glory of thy great excesses?
Thy work and not their worths expresses.
Nor dost thou raise them for their good : OF THE FK" But thave their ills more understood.
Come, worthy Greek, Ulysses come,
Possess these shores with me,
And here we may be free.
That travail in the deep,
And spend the uigbt in sleep.
And with the thought of actions past
With innocent and plain simplicity: Are recreated still :
And living here under the awful hand When pleasure leaves a touch at last
Of discipline and strict observancy, To show that it was ill
Learn but our weaknesses to understand.
And therefore dare not enterprise to show SYREN.
In lower style the hidden mysteries, That doth opinion only cause,
And arts of thrones, which nope that are belor That's out of custom bred ;
The sphere of action, and the exercise Which makes us many other laws,
Of power, can truly show; thongh men mas tu Than ever Nature did.
Conceit above the pitch where it should stand, No widows wail for our delights,
And form more monst'rous figures than cuatzin Our sports are without blood;
A possibility, and go beyond The world we see by warlike wights
The nature of those managements so far, Receives more hurt than good.
As oft their common decency they mar:
Notions, that may turn all to a taste of ill But yet the state of things require
Whatever power shall do, or might intend: These motions of unrest,
And think all cunning, all proceeding one, And these great spirits of high desire
And nothing simple, and sincerely done: Seem born to turn them best :
Yet th' eye of practice, looking down from bgt To purge the mischiefs, that increase,
Upon such over-reaching vanity, And all good order mar:
Sees how from errour to errour it doth ficat, For oft we see a wicked peace,
As from an unknown ocean into a gulf:
And how though th' wolf would counterfeit there
And therefore in the view of state t' hare se Well, well, Ulysses, then I see
A counterfeit of state, had been to light I shall not have thee here ;
A candle to the Sun, and so bestow'd And therefore I will come to thee,
Our pains to bring our dimness unto light. And take my fortune there.
For majesty and power can nothing see I must be won that cannot win,
Without itself, that can sight-worthy be. Yet lost were I not won ;
And therefore durst not we but on the ground, For beauty hath created been
From whence our humble argument hath birta, Tundo or be undone.
Erect our scene, and thereon are we found,
Which if at their first opening they did plaas,
It was enough, they serve but for a spring,
Is ever wont to vanish with the sound.
Grace but the Muses, they will honour you. A PASTORAL TRAGI-COMEDY.
Chi non fa, non fik
PRESENTED TO HER MAJESTY AND HER LADIES, BY THE
UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD IN CHRIST'S CHURCH, IN AU
VISION OF THE TWELVE GODDESSE
The graces of society,
Do here with hand in hand conclude
The blessed chain of amity : To show the best they could that inight delight.
For we deserve, we give, we thank,
Thanks, gifts, deserts, thus join in rank.
Unto these blessings that descend:-
The grace whereof with more delight, Whose happy presence did vouchsafe to bless
The well disposing doth commend; So poor presentments, and to grace the same. Whilst gratitude, rewards, deserts,
And though it be in th' humblest rank of words, Please, win, draw on, and couple hearts. And in the lowest region of our speech, Yet is it in that kind, as best accords
For worth, and power, and dne respect, With rural passions, which use not to reach
Deserves, bestows, returns with grace : Beyond the groves, and woods, where they were bred: The meed, reward, the kind affect; And best become a eloistral exercise,
That give the world a cheerful face, Where men shut out retir'd, and sequester'd And turning in this course of right, From public fashion, seem to sympathise
Make virtue move with true delight.
FROM THE SAME.
Now when so many pens (like spears) are charg'd
To chase away this tyrant of the north,
Gross Barbarism, whose pow'r grown far enlarg'd,
Whose onset made the rest audacious,
Whereby they likewise bave so well discharg'd
Upon that hideous beast encroaching thus.
And now must I with that poor strength I have
Resist so foul a foe in what I may:
And arm against oblivion and the grave,
And makes of all an universal prey ;
So that if by my pen procure ) shall,
But to defend me, and my name to save,
Then though I die, I cannot yet die all.
But still the better part of me will live,
And in that part will live thy rev'rend name,
Who dost with thine own hand a bulwark frame
Against these monsters, (enemies of honour)
As time or they shall never prey upon her.
Which Israel's singer to his God did frame,
Unto thy voice eternity hath given, [came;
In them must rest thy venerable name,
So long as Sion's God remaineth honoured ;
And till confusion hath all zeal bereaven,
And murther'd faith, and temples ruined.
By this (great lady) thou must then be known, Strength to my thoughts, from whence these mo- And this is that which thou may'st call thine own, tions came,
Which sacrilegious time cannot confound. Call'd up my spirits from out their low repose, Here thou surviv'st thyself, here thou art found To sing of state, and tragic notes to frame.
Of late succeeding ages, fresh in fame:
This monument cannot be overthrown,
Where, in eternal brass, remains thy name.
O that the ocean did not bound our style
But that the melody of our sweet isle
That they might know how far Thames doth out-go , and Green Requir'd his Cleopatra's company.
The music of declined Italy ;
Might learn of thee their notes to purify.
That he can scárce discern her for his queen, O why may not some after-coming hand सा,
Finding how much she of herself hath lack'd, Unlock these limits, open our confines, ,
And miss'd that grace wherein she should be seen, and break asunder this imprisoning band,
Yet lightning thou by thy sweet cheerfulness Planting our roses on the Apenines?
My dark defects, which from her powers detract, And to teach Rheyne, the Loyre, and Rhodanus, TOD He may her guess by some resemblances.
Our accents, and the wonders of our land,
That they might all admire and honour us.
Whereby great Sidney and our Spencer might,
With those Po singers being equalled,
That their eternal songs (for ever read)
What music in the kingdom of her peace
Hath now been made to her, and by her might,
Whereby her glorious fame shall never cease.
FROM THE SAME.
But if that Fortune doth deny us this,
The bed of Sin reveal'd, Then Neptune lock up with thy ocean key And all the luxury that Shame Fould bar a This treasure to ourselves, and let them miss Of so sweet riches: as unworthy they
The scene is broken down, To taste the great delights that we enjoy.
And all uncover'd lies, And let our harmony, so pleasing grown,
The purple actors known Content ourselves, whose errour ever is
Scarce men, whom men despise. Strange notes to like, and disesteem our own.
The complots of the wise, But, whither do my vows transport me now,
Prove iinperfections smok'd :
And all what wonder gave Without the compass of my course enjoin'd?
To pleasure-gazing eyes, Alas! what honour can a voice so low
Lies scatter'd, dash'd, all broke. As this of mine expect hereby to find ?
Thus much beguiled have But, madam, this doth animate my mind,
Poor unconsiderate wights, That yet I shall be read among the rest,
These momentary pleasures, fugitive delights
Opinion, how dost thou molest
Th' affected mind of restless man? Torment their tortur'd breast,
Who fallowing thee never can, Who by their doing ill
Nor ever shall attain to rest, Have wrought the world's unrest.
Forgetting what thou say'st is best; Which when being must distress'd,
Yet lo! that best he finds far wide Yet more to vex their sprite,
Of what thou promised'st before: "The hideous face of sin,
For in the same he look'd for more, (In forms they must detest)
Which proves but small, when once 't is try'd. Stands ever in their sight.
Then something else thou find'st beside, Their conscience still within
To draw him still from thought to thought: Th' eternal larum is,
When in the end all proves but nought. That ever-barking dog, that calls upon their miss. Further from rest he finds him then,
Than at the first when he began. No means at all to hide,
O malecontent, seducing guest, Man for himself can find :
Contriver of our greatest woes, No way to start aside
Which born of wind, and fed with shows, Out from the hell of mind.
Dost nurse thyself in thine unrest, But in himself confin'd,
Judging ungotten things the best, He still sees Sin before;
Or what thou in conceit desiga'st, And winged-footed Pain,
And all things in the world dost deem That swiftly coines behind.
Not as they are, but as they seem : The which is evermore
Which shows their state thou ill defin'st: The sure and certain gain
And liv'st to come, in present pin'st. Impiety doth get,
For what thou hast, thou still dost lack : And wanton loose Respect, that doth itself forget.
O mind's tormentor, body's rack, And Cleopatra now
Vain promiser of that sweet rest
Which never any yet possessed.
If we unto ambition tend,
Then dost thou draw our weakness on, For her disorder'd lust
With vain imagination The int'rest of our blood,
Of that which never hath an end. Or live a servile prey
Or if that lust we apprehend, Under a hand unjust,
How doth that pleasant plague infest? As others shall think good.
O what strange forms of luxury, This hath a riot won;
Thou straight dost cast t'entice us by ? And thus she hath her state, herself, and us undone, which we have never yet possess'd,
And tellst us that is ever best, Now every mouth can tell,
And that more pleasure rests beside, What close was muttered:
In something that we bare not try'd : How that she did not well,
And when the same likewise is had,
Then all is one, and all is bad.
This Antony can say is true,
And Cleopatra knows 't is so, But now is uttered.
By th' experience of their woe. The text is made most plain
She can say, she never knew That flattery gloss'd upon,
But that lust found pleasures bew,