English

When I complayne I doo butt fayne
my passyon ys noo inwarde griefe
I sporte withall when I doo call
The Gods of love to my releefe

Whylste from myne eyes the forste teares ryse
in secrete to my selfe I smyle
Butt that to lett deepe syghes I fett
as thoughe my harte woulde breake the while

I never fownde so sure a grownde
to purchase grace as newe devyse
To merytt oughte ytt proffitts noughte
butt as a hazard on the deyce

To women kinde a dowble mynde
fitts beste to maintayne sporte and game

O dark eyes, I am weary
of the white wrath of the sea.

O come with me to the vernal woods
the green sap and the fragrant
white violets.

His russet coat and gleaming axe
flit
in the blue glades.

The wild birds sing
but the woodman he broods
in the blue glades.

O fayre and cruell hande that me enchaynde
within the warde of love my auncyent foe
That daynty lymme me thynke shoulde have refraynd
to geve a stroake from whence mighte daunger groe
My harte but newely thrall doth muse to see
my witts so loste myne eyes soo farr to seeke
As that they will not helpe to succour me
they thinke that hand can wounde without dislik
What straunge effect is this that yow doo showe
thoughe Panthasilla with her warlike hande
Coulde force men yelde and geve the overthrow

Why were myne eyes so forewarde to my harme
who for the pleasure to beholde your face
Contented were that you by lookes shoud charme
my lybertye that yeldeth thraledome place
By yow myne eyes and not by his owne force
my mortall foe possessed hath my harte
Where he doth burne and sacke without remorce
and now I feare will never thence departe
Butt I that did so well and longe defende
my selfe from hym and from his greatest might
Now rue to thinke how I my lyfe must spende
subjecte to paynes, to fury and dispighte

BY THE SAME.

L AURETTA is fair as the morning of May;
No nymph of the village more sprightly and gay;
The roses all bloom in the check of the maid,
And the snowdrop itself's in her bosom display'd.
Young Zelia is prais'd, by the nymphs, for her song,
Helenissa for dancing amongst the gay throng;
Eliza for taste is admir'd by the swains,
For complexion Aminta's the pride of the plains;
But charms more divine in Lauretta we see,
Her heart from ill-nature and pride is so free:

BY THE SAME .

Now Midnight o'er the earth her mantle throws,
The busy world is hush'd in soft repose.
Through parting trees the moon's pale lustre beams,
Or faintly glimmers o'er the crystal streams.
Beneath the poplar's shade, the nightingale
Tunes to the night her melancholy tale,
Till the shrill sky-lark, messenger of day,
Trills through the dusky clouds his matin lay.
'Neath, their thatch'd roofs the peaceful peasants rest,
No anxious care disturbs each guiltless breast.

BY THE SAME .

Friendship, sweet balm to ev'ry bleeding wound,
Sweet social pow'r, on earth but seldom found,
From heav'n, like some phaenomenon appears,
To soothe pale grief, and stem her gushing tears.

Yet stays not here, but, like refreshing show'rs,
Where'er she goes, the healing balsam pours;
And teaches the soft infant's lisping tongue
To bless the donor as he goes along.

Yet Flattery oft assumes fair Friendship's name,
And dwells full oft with folly, wealth, and fame;

BY THE SAME .

C ONTENTMENT , source of ev'ry earthly joy,
Without thee, what are riches, what is pow'r?
In vain shall grandeur, luxury, employ
Their pow'rs to please beyond the present hour.

'Tis not in courts that thou delight'st to dwell;
Contentment scorns the gilded roof of state;
But in the honest peasant's lowly cell
She lives retir'd, nor fears the storms of fate.

Who hath released yow myne Eyes from griefe
that wonted were to shedd contynuall teares
The hope wee have to see our sweete relyefe
whose absent face, dyd plunge us so in feares.
And yow myne eares, what makes yow lysten soe
to every noyse and sownde that yow doe heare
Me thinkes we heare a voice, that wee well knowe
that voise wee meane that can revyve our cheare.
But is itt love my feete that wings your pace
to runne so swifte that were before so sloe
Noo no wee haste to see that heavenlye face