CUPID AND CAMPASPE From " Alexander and Campaspe CUPID and my Campaspe played " He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows, The coral of his lip, the rose Growing on's cheek (but none knows how); O Love! has she done this to thee? John Lyly [1554?-1606] APOLLO'S SONG From "Midas " My Daphne's hair is twisted gold, On Daphne's cheek grow rose and cherry, Daphne's snowy hand but touched does melt, My Daphne's music charms all ears. These glories now are turned to bays. John Lyly [1554?-1606] "FAIR IS MY LOVE FOR APRIL'S IN HER FACE" From "Perimedes " FAIR is my love for April's in her face, Her lovely breasts September claims his part, And lordly July in her eyes takes place, But cold December dwelleth in her heart; Samela 501 Blest be the months that set my thoughts on fire, Like Phoebus' fire, so sparkle both her eyes, As earth, her heart, cold, dateth me to death: In pomp sits mercy seated in her face, Love 'twixt her breasts his trophies doth imprint, Her eyes shine favor, courtesy, and grace, But touch her heart, ah, that is framed of flint! Therefore my harvest in the grass bears grain; The rock will wear, washed with a winter's rain. Robert Greene [1560?-1592] SAMELA From "Menaphon" LIKE to Diana in her summer weed, Girt with a crimson robe of brightest dye, Whiter than be the flocks that straggling feed, As fair Aurora in her morning-gray, Like lovely Thetis on a calmèd day, Whenas her brightness Neptune's fancy move, Her tresses gold, her eyes like glassy streams, Her cheeks like rose and lily yield forth gleams; Her brows bright arches framed of ebony: Thus fair Samela Passeth fair Venus in her bravest hue, Pallas, in wit,—all three, if you well view, Yield to Samela. Robert Greene [1560?-1592] DAMELUS' SONG OF HIS DIAPHENIA DIAPHENIA like the daffadowndilly, White as the sun, fair as the lily, Heigh ho, how I do love thee! I do love thee as my lambs Are beloved of their dams;— How blest were I if thou would'st prove me. Diaphenia like the spreading roses, That in thy sweets all sweets encloses, For dead, thy breath to life might move me. Diaphenia like to all things blessed, Dear joy, how I do love thee! Then in requite, sweet virgin, love me! Henry Constable [1562-1613] ROSALINE LIKE to the clear in highest sphere Of selfsame color is her hair Whether unfolded or in twines: Rosaline Heigh ho, fair Rosaline! Her eyes are sapphires set in snow, Heigh ho, would she were mine! Her cheeks are like the blushing cloud Her lips are like two budded roses Heigh ho, would she were mine! Her neck like to a stately tower Heigh ho, fair Rosaline! Her paps are centres of delight, Her breasts are orbs of heavenly frame, With orient pearl, with ruby red, With marble white, with sapphire blue, Her body every way is fed, Yet soft to touch and sweet to view: Heigh ho, fair Rosaline! Nature herself her shape admires; Heigh ho, would she were mine! 503 Then muse not, Nymphs, though I bemoan The absence of fair Rosaline, Since for a fair there's fairer none, Nor for her virtues so divine: Heigh ho, fair Rosaline! Heigh ho, my heart! would God that she were mine! Thomas Lodge [1558?-1625] SONG From "The Elder Brother " BEAUTY clear and fair, Where the air Rather like a perfume dwells; Where the violet and the rose Their blue veins and blush disclose, And come to honor nothing else. Where to live near, And planted there, Is to live, and still live new; Where to gain a favor is More than light, perpetual bliss, Make me live by serving you. Dear, again back recall To this light A stranger to himself and all; Both the wonder and the story John Fletcher [1579-1625] MADRIGAL My love in her attire doth show her wit, It doth so well become her; For every season she hath dressings fit, |