A GUILTLESSE LADY IMPRISONED:

AFTER PENANCED.

SONG.

SET BY MR. WILLIAM LAWES.

I.

EARK, faire one, how what e're here is
Doth laugh and sing at thy distresse;
Not out of hate to thy reliefe,

But joy t' enjoy thee, though in griefe.

II.

See! that which chaynes you, you chaine here;
The prison is thy prisoner;

How much thy jaylor's keeper art!

He bindes your hands, but you his heart.

III.

The gyves to rase so smooth a skin,
Are so unto themselves within ;
But, blest to kisse so fayre an arme,
Haste to be happy with that harme ;

IV.

And play about thy wanton wrist,

As if in them thou so wert drest; But if too rough, too hard they presse, Oh, they but closely, closely kisse.

V.

And as thy bare feet blesse the way,

The people doe not mock, but pray,

And call thee, as amas'd they run
Instead of prostitute, a nun.

VI.

The merry torch burnes with desire
To kindle the eternall fire,
And lightly daunces in thine eyes
To tunes of epithalamies.

VII.

The sheet's ty'd ever to thy wast,
How thankfull to be so imbrac't!

And see! thy very very

bonds

Are bound to thee, to binde such hands.

TO HIS DEARE BROTHER COLONEL F. L.

IMMODERATELY MOURNING MY BROTHERS 1

UNTIMELY DEATH AT CARMARTHEN.

I.

F teares could wash the ill away,
A pearle for each wet bead I'd pay;
But as dew'd corne the fuller growes,
So water'd eyes but swell our woes.

II.

One drop another cals, which still
(Griefe adding fuell) doth distill;
Too fruitfull of her selfe is anguish,
We need no cherishing to languish.

1 Thomas Lovelace. See Memoir.

ΙΙΙ.

Coward fate degen❜rate man
Like little children uses, when

He whips us first, untill we weepe,
Then, 'cause we still a weeping keepe.

IV.

Then from thy firme selfe never swerve;
Teares fat the griefe that they should sterve;
Iron decrees of destinie

Are ner'e wipe't out with a wet eye.

But this way you may gaine the field,
Oppose but sorrow, and 'twill yield;
One gallant thorough-made resolve
Doth starry influence dissolve.

TO A LADY

THAT DESIRED ME I WOULD BEARE MY

PART WITH HER IN A SONG.

MADAM A. L.'

HIS is the prittiest motion:

Madam, th' alarums of a drumme
That cals your lord, set to your cries,
To mine are sacred symphonies.

1 "Madam A. L." is not in MS. copy. "The Lady A. L.” and "Madam A. L." may very probably be two different persons for Carew in his Poems (edit. 1651, 8vo. p. 2) has a piece "To A. L.; Persuasions to Love," and it is possible that the

What, though 'tis said I have a voice;

I know 'tis but that hollow noise

Which (as it through my pipe doth speed)
Bitterns do carol through a reed;

A. L. of Carew, and the A. L. mentioned above, are identical. The following poem is printed in Durfey's Pills to Purge Melancholy, v. 120, but whether it was written by Lovelace, and addressed to the same lady, whom he represents above as requesting him to join her in a song, or whether it was the production of another pen, I cannot at all decide. It is not particularly unlike the style of the author of Lucasta. At all events, I am not aware that it has been appropriated by anybody else, and as I am reluctant to omit any piece which Lovelace is at all likely to have composed, I give these lines just as I find them in Durfey, where they are set to music :—

"To his fairest VALENTINE Mrs. A. L.
"Come, pretty birds, present your lays,
And learn to chaunt a goddess praise;
Ye wood-nymphs, let your voices be
Employ'd to serve her deity:
And warble forth, ye virgins nine,
Some music to my Valentine.

"Her bosom is love's paradise,

There is no heav'n but in her eyes;
She's chaster than the turtle-dove,
And fairer than the queen of love:
Yet all perfections do combine
To beautifie my Valentine.

"She's Nature's choicest cabinet,

Where honour, beauty, worth and wit
Are all united in her breast.

The graces claim an interest:
All virtues that are most divine
Shine clearest in my Valentine."

In the same key with monkeys jiggs,

Or dirges of proscribed piggs,

Or the soft Serenades above

In calme of night,1 when2 cats make3 love.

Was ever such a consort seen!
Fourscore and fourteen with forteen?
Yet sooner they'l agree, one paire,
Then we in our spring-winter aire ;
They may imbrace, sigh, kiss, the rest:
Our breath knows nought but east and west.
Thus have I heard to childrens cries

The faire nurse still such lullabies,

That, well all sayd (for what there lay),

The pleasure did the sorrow pay.

Sure ther's another way to save
Your phansie, madam; that's to have
('Tis but a petitioning kinde fate)
The organs sent to Bilingsgate,
Where they to that soft murm'ring quire
Shall teach 6 you all you can admire!

1 Nights-Editor's MS. 2 Where-Ibid.

3 Do-Ibid.

There is here either an interpolation in the printed copy, or

an hiatus in the MS. The latter reads:

"Yet may I 'mbrace, sigh, kisse, the rest," &c.,

thus leaving out a line and a half or upward of the poem, as it is printed in Lucasta.

5 MS. reads:-"Youre phansie, madam,"

omitting "that's to have."

Original and MS. have reach.