CUPID'S SENTENCE. WHO likes to love, let him take heed, Among the Gods it is decreed, That Love shall die; And every wight that takes his part, The cause of this as I have heard, Whose beauty he did not regard, Complain'd before the Gods above, The Gods did storm to hear this news, And there they swore, That sith he did such dames abuse He should no more Be God of Love, but that he should Who should them keep, and they be bound That love for gold should not be found. BYRD'S SONGS. These ladies striving long, at last To give them to a maiden chast, Whom I did see; Who with the same did pierce my breast: MY MIND TO ME A KINGDOM IS. My mind to me a kingdom is, L Such perfect joy therein I find, That it excels all other bliss That God or nature hath assign'd: Though much I want that most would have, No princely port, nor wealthy store, No shape to win a loving eye; I see that plenty surfeits oft, Mishap doth threaten most of all; 7 I press to bear no haughty sway, Look what I want, my mind supplies; I laugh not at another's loss, My wealth is health and perfect ease, Thus do I live, thus will I die, WHERE FANCY FOND. WHERE fancy fond for pleasure pleads, There time it is to take my beads, BYRD'S SONGS. My eyes presume to judge this case, Stands to defend the case, is plain; But shame will not have reason yield, To blush and fear to tell my woe, So far hath fond desire outrun The bond which reason set out first, I would now say, if that I durst, Oh that I might declare the rest Of all the toys which fancy turns, Like towers of wind within my breast Where fire is hid, that never burns; Then should I try one of the twain, Either to love, or to disdain. But fine conceit dares not declare The strange conflict of hope and fear, Lest reason should be left so bare That love durst whisper in mine ear, 9 And tell me how my fancy shall I must therefore with silence build IF WOMEN COULD BE FAIR. IF women could be fair and never fond, To mark what choice they make, and how they change, Scorning after reason to follow will; Who would not shake such buzzards from the fist, Yet for our sport, we fawn and flatter both, To pass the time when nothing else can please, The sweet content that gives such humour ease; |