Now the peace is made at the foes… Whilst men of armes to kettles the… And drinke in caskes of honourable… In ev’ry hand [let] a cup be found… That from all hearts a health may…

This Queen of Prey (now prey to y… Fast to that pirch of ivory In silver chaines and silken clue, Hath now made full thy victory: II.

AUSONIUS LIB. EPIG. Trinarii quodam currentem in litto… Ante canes leporem caeruleus rapui… At lepus: in me omnis terrae pelag… Forsitan et coeli, si canis astra…

Cord. Distressed pilgrim, who… Speak thee a martyr to love’s crue… Whither away? Amor. What p… Calls back my flying steps?

IF in me Anger, or disdaine In you, or both, made me refraine From th’ Noble intercourse of Ver… That only Vertuous thoughts rehea… Then Chaste Ellinda might you fea…

Chloe behold! againe I bowe, Againe possest, againe I woe ; From my heat hath taken fire, Damas, noble youth, and fries: Gazing with one of mine eyes

SEE! what an undisturbed teare She weepes for her last sleepe ; But, viewing her straight wak’d a… She weepes that she did weepe. II

This is the prittiest motion: Madam, th’ alarums of a drumme That cals your lord, set to your c… To mine are sacred symphonies. What, though ’tis said I have a v…

DE SUO IN LESBIAM AMORE.… Nulla potest mulier tantum se dice… Vere, quantum a me Lesbia amata m… Nulla fides ullo fuit unquam faede… Quanta in amore suo ex parte reper…

Introth, I do my self perswade, That the wilde boy is grown a man, And all his childishnesse off laid… E’re since LUCASTA did his fir… H’ has left his apish jigs,

Hither with hallowed steps as is t… That must enshrine this saint with… And sad aspects as the dark vails… Virgins opprest, draw gently, gent… Enter the dismall chancell of this…

You, that can haply mixe your joye… And weave white Ios with black El… Can caroll out a dirge, and in one… Sing to the tune either of life, o… You, that can weepe the gladnesse…

Divine Destroyer, pitty me no mor… Or else more pitty me; Give me more love, ah, quickly giv… Or else more cruelty! For left thus as I am,

Now Whitehall’s in the grave, And our head is our slave, The bright pearl in his close shel… Now the miter is lost, The proud Praelates, too, crost,

Why should you swear I am forswor… Since thine I vowed to be? Lady, it is already morn, And ’twas last night I swore to t… That fond impossibility.