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Wine fills the veins, and healths are understood To give our friends a title to our blood:

Who, naming me, doth warm his courage fo, Shews for my fake what his bold hand would do.



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HLORIS farewel! I now muft go:
For if with thee longer stay,

Thy eyes prevail upon me fo,

I fhall prove blind, and lose my way.


Fame of thy beauty, and thy youth,
Among the reft, me hither brought:
Finding this fame fall fhort of truth,
Made me stay longer than I thought.

For I'm engag'd by word and oath,
A fervant to another's will:
Yet, for thy love, I'd forfeit both,
Could I be fure to keep it ftill.


But what affurance can I take?
When thou, foreknowing this abuse,
For fome more worthy lover's fake,
May' leave me with fo juft excufe.


For thou may'ft fay, 'twas not thy fault
That thou didst thus inconstant prove;
Being by my example taught

To break thy oath, to mend thy love.


No, Chloris, no: I will return,
And raife thy ftory to that height,
That ftrangers fhall at diftance burn;
And fhe distrust me reprobate.


Then fhall my love this doubt difplace,
And gain fuch truft, that I may come
And banquet fometimes on thy face,

But make my conftant meals at home.

Of my Lady ISABELLA playing on the lute.

UCH moving founds, from fuch a careless touch!.


So unconcern'd herfelf, and we fo much!

What art is this, that with fo little pains
Transports us thus, and o'er our fpirits reigns?
The trembling strings about her fingers crowd,
And tell their joy for every kifs aloud:

Small force there needs to make them tremble fo;

Touch'd by that hand, who would not tremble too?
Here Love takes ftand, and, while fhe charms the ear,
Empties his quiver on the liftening deer:

Mufic fo foftens and difarms the mind,
That not an arrow does refiftance find.

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Thus the fair tyrant celebrates the prize,
And acts herself the triumph of her eyes :
So Nero once, with harp in hand, survey'd
His flaming Rome, and as it burn'd he play'd.

To a LADY finging a Song of his compofing.

HLORIS, yourself you so excel,

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When you vouchsafe to breathe my thought,

That, like a spirit, with this spell

Of my own teaching, I am caught.

That eagle's fate and mine are one,
Which, on the shaft that made him die,
Efpy'd a feather of his own,

Wherewith he wont to foar so high.

Had Echo with so sweet a grace
Narciffus' loud complaints return'd,

Not for reflection of his face,

But of his voice, the boy had burn'd.


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EHOLD, and liften, while the Fair
Breaks in sweet sounds the willing air:
And, with her own breath, fans the fire
Which her bright eyes do first inspire.
What reafon can that love control,
Which more than one way courts the foul?

So, when a flash of lightning falls

On our abodes, the danger calls



For human aid; which hopes the flame
To conquer, though from heaven it came:
But, if the winds with that confpire,
Men strive not, but deplore the fire.

Of the MARRIAGE of the DWARFS.

DESIGN, or chance, make others wive;

But nature did this match contrive:

Eve might as well have Adam fled,
As the deny'd her little bed

To him, for whom Heaven feem'd to frame,
And measure out, this only dame.

Thrice happy is that humble pair,

Beneath the level of all care!
Over whofe heads thofe arrows fly
Of fad diftruft, and jealoufy:
Secured in as high extreme,

As if the world held none but them.
To him the fairest nymphs do fhow
Like moving mountains topp'd with fnow;
And every man a Polypheme

Does to his Galatea feem:

None may presume her faith to prove;
He proffers death that proffers love.

Ah, Chloris! that kind nature thus
From all the world had fever'd us:
Creating for ourselves us two,
As love has me for only you!



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READING the path to nobler ends, A long farewell to love I gave: Refolv'd my country, and my friends,

All that remain'd of me should have.

And this refolve no mortal dame,

None but those eyes, could have o’erthrown : The nymph I dare not, need not, name,

So high, fo like herself alone.

Thus the tall oak, which now afpires

Above the fear of private fires;

Grown and defign'd for nobler use,
Not to make warm, but build the house;
Though from our meaner flames secure,
Muft that which falls from heaven endure.


M Makes it fall fummer ere fpring's a

Makes it full fummer ere the spring 's begun & And with ripe fruit the bending boughs can load, Before our violets dare look abroad:

So, measure not by any common use,

The early love your brighter eyes produce.
When lately your fair hand in woman's weed
Wrap'd my glad head, I wish'd me fo indeed,
That hafty time might never make me grow
Out of thofe favours you afford me now,
That I might ever fuch indulgence find;
And you not blush, or think yourself too kind.


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