RING out your bells, let mourning fhews be spread,

For Love is dead:

All Love is dead, infected
With plague of deep difdain:
Worth, as nought worth, rejected,
And Faith fair scorn doth gain.
From fo ungrateful fancy;
From fuch a female frenzy ;

From them that use men thus,

Good Lord, deliver us.

Weep, neighbours, weep, do you not here it faid,
That Love is dead?

His death-bed, peacock's folly;
His winding-fheet, is fhame;

His will, falfe-feeming holy,

His fole exec'tor, blame.

From fo ungrateful, &c.

Let Dirge be fung, and Trentals rightly read,
For Love is dead:

Sir Wrong his tomb ordaineth
My miftrefs' marble-heart;
Which epitaph containeth,
Her eyes were once his dart.
From fo ungrateful, &c.

Alas!

Alas! Ilye: Rage hath this error bred;
Love is not dead, but fleepeth
In her unmatched mind:

Where the his counsel keepeth
'Till due deferts fhe find.
Therefore from fo vile fancy,
To call fuch wit a frenzy:
Who Love can temper thus,
Good Lord, deliver us.

!༥༩

THOU blind man's mark; thou fool's felf-chofen fnare,
Fond fancy's fcum, and dregs of fcatter'd thought;

Band of all evils; cradle of caufelefs care;
Thou web of will, whose end is never wrought:

Defire! Defire! I have too dearly bought,
With price of mangled mind, thy worthless ware;
Too long, too long, asleep thou haft me brought,
Who shouldst my mind to higher things prepare;

But yet in vain thou haft my ruin fought;
In vain thou mad'ft me to vain things afpire;
In vain thou kindleft all thy finoaky fire:
For virtue hath this better leffon taught,
Within myself to feek my only hire,
Defiring nought but how to kill Defire.

1

LEAVE me, O Love! which reacheft but to duft
And thou, my mind, aspire to higher things:
Grow rich in that which never taketh ruft;
What ever fades, but fading pleasure brings.

Draw in thy beams, and humble all thy might
To that fweet yoke, where lasting freedoms be,
Which breaks the clouds, and opens forth the light,
That doth both shine, and give us fight to fee.

O take faft hold! let that light be thy guide,

In this fmall courfe, which birth draws out to death, And think how evil becometh him to flide,

Who feeketh heav'n, and comes of heav'nly breath.

Then farewell, World, thy uttermost I see,
Eternal Love, maintain thy Love in Me!

Splendidis longum valedico nugis.

THE

LADY of MAY.

A

MASQU E.

INTERLOCUTORES.

The SUITER, Mother of the MAY-LADY.

The MAY-LADY.

THERION, a Forefter Suiters of the

S

ESPILUS, a Shepherd May Lady.

ROMBUS, a School-mafter.

LALUS, an Old Shepherd.

DORCAS, a Shepherd.

RIXUS, a Forefter.