Thy pleasing smiles and grace, Have ravished so my sprites, Of love, which me affrights. For fancy's flames of fire Unto such furious power The brands would me devour, I should consume to nought Of thy fair shining eye, Thy cheeks, thy pleasing smiles, That forced my heart to die; Thy grace, thy face, the part Stands gazing still to see The wondrous gifts and power, Each hour, That hath bewitched me T. Lodge 81. Now What Is Love? OW what is Love, I pray thee, tell? NOW It is that fountain and that well Yet what is Love, I prithee, say? It is December matched with May, Yet what is Love, good shepherd sain? It is a game where none hath gain; Yet, shepherd, what is Love, I pray? A pretty kind of sporting fray, It is a thing will soon away. Then, nymphs, take vantage while ye may: 82. Yet what is Love, good shepherd, show? Sir W. Raleigh My heart distraught in pain; Dear hand, alas! In little space My life thou dost restrain. O fingers slight! Departed right, So long, so small, so round; Goodly begone, And yet a bone, Most cruel in my wound. With lilies white And roses bright Doth strain thy colour fair; Nature did lend Each finger's end A pearl for to repair. CHER Full and fair ones; come and buy. If so be you ask me where They do grow, I answer: There R. Herrick 84. A Double Doubting LADY, when I behold the roses sprouting, Which clad in damask mantles deck the arbours, And then behold your lips where sweet love harbours, My eyes present me with a double doubting: For viewing both alike, hardly my mind supposes Whether the roses be your lips, or your lips the roses. Anon. 85. Love Guards the Roses of Thy Lips LOVE guards the roses of thy lips And flies about them like a bee; If I approach he forward skips, Love in thine eyes doth build his tower, And from their orbs shoot shafts divine. Love works thy heart within his fire, And of my plaints doth make a game. Love, let me cull her choicest flowers; But if thou do not, Love, I'll truly serve her |