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From the Play of “ Tom Tyler and his Wife , ” 1598 ; in Garrick ' s Scarce Plays .
MWWW A NYMPH ' S DISDAIN OF LOVE . Hey down a down , did Dian sing , .
Amongst her virgins sitting , Than love there is no vainer thing For maidens most
Spare not , but play thee . The above Ballad is by DR . THOMAS LODGE . His
plays and poetry possess considerable merit . He was born in 1556 , and died in
1625 . AAANNNNNNA WHAT BIRD SO SINGS . What bird so sings , yet so does
CUPID and my Campaspe play ' d At cards for kisses ; Cupid paid : He stakes his
quiver , bow , and arrows , His mother ' s doves , and team of sparrows , Loses
them too ; then down he throws The coral of his lip , the rose Growing on ' s cheek
... And schew the of a sueitar subject thair Borne Beuties wonder on the banks of
Clyd ! Philocle and Pamela , those sueit twain , Qubo lake bot thee to eternize
thair name . 1 Purple , or blue . ROWALLAN ' S POEMS . 129 Play thou the
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Anne appears auld Ballad beauty Billy boy birds blooming bonnie bonnie lassie born bosom bower breast breath bright called cold comes dear death delight died doth dreams eyes face fair fancy fear fields flower fond foregoing give glen grace green grove grows hand hath head heart heaven hope John kiss lady lass Lauderdale leave light live look Lord love's maid maiden married meet mind morn mother muse never night noted o'er original pain pale pieces play pleasure POEMS poor present pretty published Queen remain rest rose round says scene seek side sing smile song soon sorrow soul spring stanza stars summer sweet tears tell thee thing thou Till tree true voice wife wild wind young
Seite 84 - GOING TO THE WARS Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
Seite 80 - Go, lovely rose, Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired: Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then...
Seite 57 - SWEET Day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. Sweet Rose, whose hue angry and brave Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die.
Seite 83 - TELL me not, sweet, I am unkind, — That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field ; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you, too, shall adore ; I could not love thee, dear, so much. Loved I not honour more.
Seite 31 - I'll count your power not worth a pin: Alas, what hereby shall I win, If he gainsay me ? What if I beat the wanton boy With many a rod ? He will repay me with annoy, Because a god. Then sit thou safely on my knee, And let thy bower my bosom be, Lurk in mine eyes, I like of thee; O Cupid, so thou pity me, Spare not, but play thee.
Seite 34 - Since ghost there is none to affright thee. Let not the dark thee cumber ; What though the moon does slumber? The stars of the night Will lend thee their light, Like tapers clear without number. Then, Julia, let me woo thee, Thus, thus to come unto me ; And when I shall meet Thy silvery feet, My soul I'll pour into thee.
Seite 52 - I cannot eat but little meat, My stomach is not good ; But sure I think, that I can drink With him that wears a hood...
Seite 50 - Still to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast ; Still to be powdered, still perfumed : Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face, That makes simplicity a grace : Robes loosely flowing, hair as free : Such sweet neglect more taketh me, Than all the adulteries of art ; They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.
Seite 19 - There is a garden in her face, Where roses and white lilies grow; A heavenly paradise is that place, Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow. There cherries grow which none may buy Till 'Cherry-ripe
Seite 34 - CHERRY-RIPE, ripe, ripe, I cry, Full and fair ones; come and buy. If so be you ask me where They do grow, I answer : There, Where my Julia's lips do smile ; There's the land, or cherry-isle, Whose plantations fully show All the year where cherries grow.