English

My Love is sailed, against Dislike to fight,
Which, like vild monster, threatens his decay:
The ship is Hope, which, by Desire's great might,
Is swiftly borne towards the wished bay:
The company which with my Love doth fare,
Though met in one, is a dissenting crew:
They are Joy, Grief, and never-sleeping Care,
And Doubt, which ne'er believes good news for true
Black Fear the flag is, which my ship doth bear,
Which, Dear, take down, if my Love victor be:
And let white Comfort in his place appear,

Pale Death himself did love my Philomel,
When he her virtues and rare beauty saw;
Therefore he sickness sent; which should expel
His rival Life, and my Dear to him draw.
But her bright beauty dazzled so his eyes,
That his dart Life did miss, though her it hit;
Yet, not therewith content, new means he tries,
To bring her unto Death, and make Life flit.
But Nature, soon perceiving that he meant
To spoil her only Phaenix, her chief pride,
Assembled all her force, and did prevent
The greatest mischief that could her betide.

Sickness, intending my love to betray,
Before I should sight of my Dear obtain,
Did his pale colours in my face display,
Lest that my favour might her favour gain.
Yet, not content herewith, like means it wrought,
My Philomel's bright beauty to deface;
And Nature's glory to disgrace it sought,
That my conceived love it might displace.
But my firm love could this assault well bear,
Which virtue had, not beauty, for his ground;
And yet bright beams of beauty did appear
Through sickness veil, which made my love abound:

Oh! why did Fame my heart to love betray,
By telling my Dear's virtue and perfection?
Why, did my traitor ears to it convey
That siren song, cause of my heart's infection?
Had I been deaf, or Fame her gifts concealed,
Then had my heart been free from hopeless love:
Or were my state likewise by it revealed,
Well might it Philomel to pity move.
Then should she know how Love doth make me languish,
Distracting me 'twixt hope and dreadful fear;
Then should she know my care, my plaints, and anguish,

Oft did I hear our eyes the passage were
By which Love entered to assail our hearts;
Therefore I guarded them, and, void of fear,
Neglected the defence of other parts.
Love, knowing this, the usual way forsook,
And, seeking, found a by-way by mine Ear;
At which he ent'ring, my heart prisoner took,
And unto thee, sweet Philomel, did bear.
Yet let my heart thy heart to pity move,
Whose pain is great, although small fault appear:
First it lies bound in fett'ring chains of love,
Then each day it is racked with hope and fear;

BY FRANCIS DAVISON .

I.

God, who the universe doth hold
In his fold,
Is my shepherd, kind and heedful;
Is my shepherd, and doth keep
Me, his sheep,
Still supplied with all things needful.

II.

He feeds me in fields, which been
Fresh and green,
Mottled with spring's flow'ry painting,
Through which creep, with murmuring crooks,
Crystal brooks,
To refresh my spirits fainting.

III.

When my soul from Heaven's way

BY FRANCIS DAVISON .

Usque quo, Domine, etc.

I.

Lord, how long, how long wilt thou
Quite forget, and quite neglect me?
How long, with a frowning brow,
Wilt thou from thy sight reject me?

II.

How long shall I seek a way
Forth this maze of thoughts perplexed,
Where my grieved mind, night and day,
Is with thinking tired and vexed?
How long shall my scornful foe,
On my fall his greatness placing,
Build upon my overthrow,

Domaine, ne in furore, etc.

I.

Lord, while thy just rage is biding,
Do not, do not fall to chiding
With poor faulty me:
Nor let me, while my sins' fuel
More inflames thy fury cruel,
Lord, corrected be!

II.

But for pity, pity lend me,
Precious balm of health oh send me,
Restless, healthless wight;
Sickness, my youth's blossom plucking,
And my blood and marrow sucking,

BY FRANCIS DAVISON.

Come, Urania, heavenly Muse,
And infuse
Sacred flame to my invention:
Sing so loud, that angels may
Hear thy lay,
Lending to thy note attention.

Oh! my soul, bear thou a part;
And my heart,
With glad leaps, beat thou the measure!
Powers of soul and body meet,
To make sweet,
Sweet and full this music's pleasure!

But to whom, Muse, shall we sing?
To the King?
Or Prince Charles, our hope and glory?

Merrily the ospreys cry,
On the islet in the stream.
Gentle and graceful is the girl,
A fit wife for the gentleman

Short and long the floating water plants,
Left and right you may pluck them.
Gentle and graceful is the girl,
Awake he longs for her and in his dreams.

When the courtship has failed,
Awake he thinks of her and in his dreams.
Filled with sorrowful thoughts,
He tosses about unable to sleep.

Short and long the floating water plants,
Left and right you may gather them.