love poem

A SONG OF LIFE

A SONG , boys, a song!
Life is young yet,
Love has tongue yet;
Why should Life and Love go wrong?
Come, boys, a song!

A song, boys, a song!
Life's at flush still,
Love's ablush still;
What though cares and curses throng?
Come, boys, a song!

A song, boys, a song!
Death is here soon,
Death will cheer soon,
Death is nigh, and Love is strong;
So, boys, a song!

Welcome , mine own!
Welcome, mine own! Wit and his company :

O lady dear,
Be ye so near
To be known?
My heart you cheer
Your voice to hear;
Welcome, mine own. Science and her Company :

As ye rejoice
To hear my voice
From me thus blown,
So in my choice
I show my voice
To be your own. Wit and his Company :

Then draw we near
To see and hear
My love long grown!

I MAKE apprizal of the maiden moon
For what she is to me:
Not a great globe of cheerless stone
That hangs in awful space alone,
And ever so to be;
But just the rarest orb,
The very fairest orb,
The star most lovely-wise
In all the dear night-skies!
So thou to me, O jestful girl of June!
I have no will to hear
Cold calculations of thy worth
Summed up in beauty, brain, and birth:
Such coldly strike mine ear.
Thou art the rarest one,
The very fairest one,
The soul most lovely-wise

When men inrich thy neck with praise,
And glories which no rose displays,
Thy arms which wax do imitate,
My gall impostum'd swels with hate:
I burn while sots thy skin defile,
And rosebuds in thy lips do spoil:
To leave love-marks, trust me in vain,
They love not, who dare lips prophane.
Ah be not prodigal of blisse!
Venus makes Nectar of a kisse.
Happy thrice, nay more, for ever:
Where loves chain is broken never;
Nor rash complaint, a linck can force,
While death sues forth a long divorce.

A CANTATA .

From the high mount, whence sacred groves depend,
Diana and her virgin-troop descend;
And while the buskin'd maids with active care,
The business of the daily chase prepare,
A favourite nymph steps forward from the throng,
And thus, exulting, swells the jocund song:

" Jolly Health springs aloft at the loud sounding horn,
Unlock'd from soft Slumber's embrace;
And Joy sings an hymn to salute the sweet morn,

Lice complain not if I fly,
Since fate forbids a Sympathy.
Could Infant spring and winter meet,
I'de covet Lices winding sheet;
And wed a monument with thee,
A parchment cloth'd Anatomie.
Whom ev'n but touch'd would ashes turn;
Nor cures your snow, if love ere burn;
Nor suppositions cold sweats free,
Where each touch prompts an Agonie.
Importunate love dry oakes oreflies,
To wanton in Euphormia's eyes;
But thine affrighted in are fled,
To seek where he lies buried:
Whom Stibium thence can never raise;

AND A PETITION TO THE FAIRIES TO BRING INDIFFERENCE .

Y E fairy Elves from every cell,
I warn you to repair,
From those in acorn cups who dwell,
To those in coral chair;
Indifference bid his poppy give
To calm this aching head,
And o'er the feelings that will live
Its opiate juices shed.
Then anxious thoughts shall disappear,
The wayward wishes die;
And every forward starting tear

Gilt pictures Papists for devotion use;
To raise my fancy gilded skin I choose:
No face I see but yellow doth commend;
An Angel is the fee doth th' Cause befriend.
What mad man silver would to gold compare?
Shall we praise white 'fore those that yellow are?
I prais'd a golden skin, but fanci'd there
The gold that reall in her virtues were.
Or 'twas the Image I did there behold
Of what I lov'd; an El'zabeth in Gold.
Say not the yellow Jaundies in my eye,
Or that I new broach Magus heresie:

Tibullus, Gallus , and Propertius be
Froth'd like Loves Goddesse out of vanity.
These to Lusts Idols do but Altars rear,
And kindle flames of hell while we are here.

I.

S OME folks, there are, gang trig, and fine,
In silks, and sattins, idly flaming;
But She I love, is all divine,
Their artfu' toil, and dresses shaming.
Gin, She were but a cottage-Lass,
And I, a Shepherd boy;
I'd let those tempting Damsels, pass,
Sweet Ann of Aughnacloy.

II.

My Annie's locks, as sunbeams, bright,
Her e'en, sa' mild, Love's starry seat,