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, "There is a Lady Sweet and Kind" 505 No beauty she doth miss When all her robes are on: But Beauty's self she is When all her robes are gone. Unknown CHLORIS IN THE SNOW I SAW fair Chloris walk alone, Thence falling on her garment's hem, To deck her, froze into a gem. Unknown "THERE IS A LADY SWEET AND KIND" THERE is a lady sweet and kind, Her gesture, motion, and her smiles, Cupid is winged and doth range, But change she earth, or change she sky, Unknown CHERRY-RIPE THERE is a garden in her face Those cherries fairly do enclose Of orient pearl a double row, Which when her lovely laughter shows, Her eyes like angels watch them still; Her brows like bended bows do stand, Threatening with piercing frowns to kill All that attempt with eye or hand Those sacred cherries to come nigh, Till "Cherry-ripe" themselves do cry. Thomas Campion [? -1619] AMARILLIS I CARE not for these ladies, That must be wooed and prayed: Give me kind Amarillis, The wanton countrymaid. Her beauty is her own. Her when we court and kiss, She cries, Forsooth, let go! But when we come where comfort is, She never will say No. If I love Amarillis, She gives me fruit and flowers: But if we love these ladies, We must give golden showers. Elizabeth of Bohemia Give them gold, that sell love, But when we come where comfort is, These ladies must have pillows, Give me a bower of willows, And fresh Amarillis, With milk and honey fed; Who, when we court and kiss, She cries, Forsooth, let go: But when we come where comfort is, She never will say No! 507 Thomas Campion [ ? -1619] ELIZABETH OF BOHEMIA You meaner beauties of the night, You curious chanters of the wood, That warble forth Dame Nature's lays, By your weak accents; what's your praise You violets that first appear, By your pure purple mantles known As if the spring were all your own; So, when my mistress shall be seen Henry Wotton [1568-1639] HER TRIUMPH From "A Celebration of Charis" SEE the Chariot at hand here of Love, Wherein my Lady rideth! Each that draws is a swan or a dove, And well the car Love guideth. As she goes, all hearts do duty And, enamored, do wish, so they might But enjoy such a sight, That they still were to run by her side, Through swords, through seas, whither she would ride Do but look on her eyes, they do light All that Love's world compriseth! Do but look on her hair, it is bright As Love's star when it riseth! Do but mark, her forehead's smoother And from her arched brows such a grace As alone there triumphs to the life All the gain, all the good, of the elements' strife. Have you seen but a bright lily grow Before rude hands have touched it? Have you marked but the fall o' the snow Before the soil hath smutched it? Have you felt the wool of beaver, |