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:
While in the Church was gold, there was more zeal:

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,

I.

GREAT LOVE IS HUMBLE.

HUMBLE is Love, for he is Honor's child:
He knows the worth of her he does adore,
And that high reckoning humbles him the more:
By her dear sweetness from his pain beguiled,
He would be proud because her look is mild;
But all the while he scans the oft-told score,
And his imperfectness must still deplore,
Abashed no less because on him she smiled.

To be allowed to love is Love's dear prize:
To lay his homage at Her royal feet —

I.

A H , fair Florelia, wilt thou, still unkind,
Affection's aching heart, with anguish fill,
Tear every nerve of his too feeling mind,
And bid his sad breast exquisitely thrill.

II.

My midnight dream, my lovely pride all day,
My tender tyrant, my corroding balm,
Could my dumb pillow speak, what would it say?
Could tears, and glowing pray'rs thy anger calm?

III.

Dear, beauteous torment, amiably severe,

O PASSER-BY, draw near!
Upon a grave I grow;
That she who died was dear
They planted me to show.

Pluck me as you go by —
I am her messenger;
With her sweet breath I sigh;
In me her pulses stir.

Through these my quivering leaves
She fain would speak to you —
She whom the grave bereaves
Of the dear life she knew.

" How glad I was up there! "
She whispers underground.
" Have they who found me fair
Some other fair one found?

" Has he who loved me best
Learned Love's deep lore again,

No Knot of Friendship long can hold
Save that which Grace hath ty'd,
For other causes prove but cold
When their effects are try'd;
For God who loveth unity
Doth cause the onely union,
Which makes them of one Family
Of one mind and communion.

Commocions will be in that place,
Where are such contraries,
As is inniquity and grace,
The greatest enimies,
Whom sin doth rule shee doth command

Love plumes his wings to fly away,
And laughs to scorn our idle pain:
Ah, vain it is to laugh and pray!
Love plumes his wings to fly away:
What prayer of ours his flight can stay
When, mocking us with high disdain,
Love plumes his wings to fly away,
And laughs to scorn our idle pain?

If Love could last, I'd spend my all
And think the price were yet too small
To buy his light upon my way,
His sun to turn my night to day,
His cheer whatever might befall.

Were I his slave, or he my thrall,
No terrors should my heart appall;
I'd fear no wreckage or dismay
If Love could last.

Heaven's lilies grow up white and tall,
But warm within earth's garden wall
With roses red the soft winds play —
Ah, might I gather them to-day!
My hands should never let them fall,
If Love could last.

La resverie or Loves Winter Seege

The Martiall Swed, with Lap, and Finland joyne
To break the ice, and winter on the Rhine
Which Season ne're was wont
T'receive such an Affront
But when it's single Couler't did display
All quitt the Field and run away
The Drum could beat
Nothing save a retreat