England's Helicon: A Collection of Pastoral and Lyric Poems, First Published at the Close of the Reign of Q. Elizabeth
Sir Egerton Brydges, Joseph Haslewood
T. Bensley, 1812 - English poetry - 248 pages
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adiew Astrophell ayre beasts beautie behold birds brest Breton Coridon cruell Cupid's death deere delight Diana disdaine doth Edmund Bolton England's Helicon euery eyes faire fairest farre fauour Finis flocks flowers gaue gentle giue grace greene griefe Harpalus hart hast hath haue heart heauen heauenly Heigh hoe Helicon Henry Constable Hey hoe honour Hymen Ignoto ioyes kisse leaue liue Lodge loue thee Loue's louely louers Madrigals Melampus Michaell Drayton minde moue Muses neuer Nicholas Breton Nimph paine passion pastoral Phillida Phillis Phoebus pitty pleasure poems praise proue Queene quoth riuer Robert Green Samela sate shee sheepe Shep Shepheard Shepheardesse shew Sidney sighs silly siluer sing Song Sonnet sorrow soule spring Stella sunne swaine sweet Loue Syrenus teares thine Thomas Lodge Thorn thou do'st thoughts thy loue tree true loue Venus vnto voyce vpon wanton weepe woods yeeld Yong
Page 214 - COME live with me and be my Love, And we will all the pleasures prove That valleys, groves, hills and fields, Woods or steepy mountain yields.
Page 152 - I'll count your power not worth a pin, Alas, what hereby shall I win, If he gainsay me ? What if I beat the wanton boy With many a rod ? He will repay me with annoy, Because a god. Then sit thou safely on my knee, Then let thy bower my bosom be ; Lurk in mine eyes, I like of thee. O Cupid, so thou pity me, Spare not, but play thee.
Page 59 - As it fell upon a day, In the merry month of May, Sitting in a pleasant shade Which a grove of myrtles made...
Page 90 - It is a yea, it is a nay ; A pretty kind of sporting fray ; It is a thing will soon away ; Then, nymphs, take 'vantage while ye may ; And this is love, as I hear say.
Page 105 - Fair sweet, how I do love thee ! I do love thee as each flower Loves the sun's life-giving power; For dead, thy breath to life might move me. Diaphenia like to all things blessed, When all thy praises are expressed, Dear joy, how I do love thee ! As the birds do love the spring, Or the bees their careful king : Then in requite, sweet virgin, love me ! H.
Page vii - Love in my bosom like a bee Doth suck his sweet: Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah, wanton, will ye?
Page 25 - He said he had loved her long. She said, "Love should have no wrong." Corydon would kiss her then. She said maids must kiss no men Till they did for good and all.