SONNET. SET BY MR. HUDSON. I. EPOSE your finger of that ring, And crowne mine with't awhile; Or shines it not as innocent, II. So then inrich me with that treasure, And please me (faire one) with that pleasure Not to save others is a curse The blackest, when y'are ne're the worse. No ODE. SET BY DR JOHN WILSON.1 TO LUCASTA. THE ROSE. I. WEET serene skye-like flower, Haste to adorn her bower; From thy long clowdy bed Shoot forth thy damaske2 head. Dr. John Wilson was a native of Feversham in Kent, a gentleman of Charles the First's chapel, and chamber-musician to his majesty. For an account of his works, see Burney's His II. New-startled blush of Flora! Haste, haste, to strowe her floore. III. Vermilion ball, that's given From lip to lip in Heaven; Loves couches cover-led, Haste, haste, to make her bed. IV. Dear offspring of pleas'd Venus, Haste, haste, to decke the haire, V. See! rosie is her bower, Her floore is all this flower; Her bed a rosie nest By a bed of roses prest. tory of Music, vol. iii. pp. 399-400, or Hawkins' History of Music, iii. 57, where a portrait of Wilson, taken from the original painting, will be found. Wood, author of the Fasti and Athena, says that he was in his time, "the best at the lute in all England." Herrick, in his Hesperides, 1648, has these lines in reference to Henry Lawes : "Then if thy voice commingle with the string, I hear in thee the rare Laniere to sing, Or curious Wilson." 2 In a MS. copy of the poem contemporary with the author, now before me, this word is omitted. VI. But early as she dresses, Why fly you her bright tresses? redder than roses LOVE CONQUER'D. A SONG. SET BY MR. HENRY LAWES. I. HE childish god of love did sweare II. Up then to th' head with his best art At her constant marble heart, He drawes his swiftest surest dart, Which bounded back, and hit his owne. III. Now the prince of fires burnes; Flames in the luster of her eyes; Triumphant she, refuses, scornes; He submits, adores and mournes, And is his votresse sacrifice. D IV. Foolish boy! resolve me now What 'tis to sigh and not be heard? A LOOSE SARABAND. SET BY MR. HENRY LAWES. I. H me! the little tyrant theefe ! II. Proud of his purchase,1 he surveys And though he sees it full of wounds, Prize. It is not uncommonly used by the early dramatists in this sense; but the verb to purchase is more usually found than the noun. "Yet having opportunity, he tries, Gets her goodwill, and with his purchase flies." WITHER'S Abuses Stript and Whipt, 1613. 2 Here I have hazarded an emendation of the text. In original we read, cruell still on. Lovelace's poems were evidently printed without the slightest care. III. And now this heart is all his sport, From hand to breast, from breast to lip, And all its rest confoundeth. IV. Then as a top he sets it up, And pitifully whips it; Sometimes he cloathes it gay and fine, V. He cover'd it with false reliefe, VI. Each day, with her small brazen stings, But then at night, bright with her gemmes, Once neere her breast she plac'd it. VII. There warme it gan to throb and bleed; She knew that smart, and grieved; At length this poore condemned heart With these rich drugges repreeved. 1 Original reads it's. 2 Original has beliefe. |