#English #XVIICentury
DE QUINTIA ET LESBIA. EP… Quintia formosa est multis, mihi c… Recta est; haec ego sic singula co… Tota illud formosa nego: nam multa… Nulla in tam magno est corpore mic…
The childish god of love did swear… Thus: By my awfull bow and quiver… Yon’ weeping, kissing, smiling pai… I’le scatter all their vowes i’ th… And their knit imbraces shiver.
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…
Forbear, thou great good husband,… A little respite from thy flood of… Thou, thine own horse and cart und… Thy spacious tent, fan thy prodigi… Down with thy double load of that…
WHEN I by thy faire shape did sw… And mingled with each Vowe a tear… I lov’d, I lov’d thee best, I swore as I profest ; For all the while you lasted warme…
MART. EPI. XLIII. LIB. I. Conjugis audisset fatum cum Porti… Et substracta sibi quaereret arma… Nondum scitis, ait, mortem non pos… Credideram satis hoc vos docuisse…
What means this stately tablature, The ballance of thy streins, Which seems, in stead of sifting p… T’ extend and rack thy veins? Thy Odes first their own harmony…
SANAZARI HEXASTICON. Viderat Adriacis quondam Neptunus… Stare urbem et toto ponere Jura m… Nunc mihi Tarpeias quantumvis, Ju… Objice et illa mihi moenia Martis…
AD M. T. CICERONEM. CATUL EP. 50. Disertissime Romuli nepotum, Quot sunt, quotque fuere, Marce T… Quotque post alios erunt in annos,
I cannot tell, who loves the skele… Of a poor marmoset; nought but boa… Give me a nakednesse, with her clo… II. Such, whose white-sattin upper coa…
PORTII LICINII. Si Phoebi soror es, mando tibi, D… Scilicet, ut fratri quae peto verb… Marmore Sicanio struxi tibi, Delp… Et levibus calamis candida verba d…
AMARANTHA sweet and fair, Ah, braid no more that shining hai… As my curious hand or eye Hovering round thee, let it fly! Let it fly as unconfined
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 fires… H’ has left his apish jigs,
How I grieve that I am well! All my health was in my sicknes, Go then, Destiny, and tell, Very death is in this quicknes. II.
That frown, Aminta, now hath drow… Thy bright front’s pow’r, and crow… Me that was bound. No, no, deceived cruel, no! Love’s fiery darts,