Speculum Amantis: Love-poems from Rare Song-books and Miscellanies of the Seventeenth Century

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Arthur Henry Bullen
Chiswick Press, printed by Charles Whittingham and Company, 1889 - English poetry - 129 pages
 

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Page 12 - Y love in her attire doth shew her wit, *•■*■ It doth so well become her: For every season she hath dressings fit, For winter, spring, and summer. No beauty she doth miss When all her robes are on ; But Beauty's self she is When all her robes are gone. 1
Page 26 - T TNDERNEATH this myrtle shade, ^-' On flowery beds supinely laid, With odorous oils my head o'erflowing And around it roses growing, What should I do but drink away The heat and troubles of the day
Page 105 - for shame ! let us improve -*- A thousand several ways These few short minutes stol'n by love From many tedious days. Whilst you want courage to despise The censure of the grave, For all the tyrants in your eyes, Your heart is but a slave. My love is full of noble pride, And never will submit To let that fop Discretion ride In triumph
Page 110 - pain, Men pray (I fear) to both in vain. Yet, seeing thee so gently pure, My hopes will needs continue still; Thou wouldst not take this garment, sure, When thou hadst an intent to kill: Of peace and yielding who would doubt When the white flag he sees hung out
Page 109 - Tis not the linen shows so fair, Her skin shines through and makes it bright; So clouds themselves like suns appear When the sun pierces them with light; So, lilies in a glass enclose, The glass will seem as white as those. Thou now one heap of beauty art, Nought outwards or within is foul; Condensed beams make every part,
Page 116 - WOULD you be a man of fashion? Would you lead a life divine ? Take a little dram of passion In a lusty dose of wine. If the nymph have no compassion, Vain it is to sigh and groan: Love was but put in for fashion, Wine will do the work alone.
Page 109 - soul, Thy soul which does itself display Like a star placed i' th' milky way/ Such robes the saints departed wear, Woven all with light divine ; Such their exalted bodies are, And with such full glory shine : But they regard
Page 16 - But still complains I did her wrong; Believe her not, it was not so, I did but kiss her and let her go. And now she swears I did,—but what ? Nay, nay, I must not tell you that. And yet I will, it is so sweet As
Page 85 - Let thy faithful crystal show How thy colours come and go; Beauty takes a foil from woe. Love, that in those smooth streams lies, Under Pity's fair disguise, Will thy melting heart surprise. Nets of Passion's finest thread (Snaring poems) will be spread All to catch thy maidenhead. Then beware : for those that cure Love's disease, themselves endure For
Page 88 - Yourself your virgin girdle would divide And put aside the maiden veil that hides The chiefest gem of nature ; and would lie Prostrate to every peasant that goes by, Rather than undergo such shame: no tongue can tell What injury is done to maids in hell.

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