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THE UNWILLING ONE
And had she pity to conjoin with those,
For had she not been fair, and thus unkind,
Thou art not fair, for all thy red and white,
For all those rosy ornaments in thee; | Thou art not sweet, tho' made of mere delight,
Nor fair, nor sweet-unless thou pity me.
Yet love not me, nor seek not to allure
My thoughts with beauty, were it more divine : Thy smiles and kisses I cannot endure,
I'll not be wrapp'd up in those arms of thine: Now show it, if thou by a woman right,Embrace and kiss and love me in despite.
THE UNWILLING ONE
Ah! were she pitiful as she is fair,
Ah! were her heart relenting as her hand,
So as she shows she seems the budding rose,
Yet were she willing to be pluck'd and worn,
FIRE that must flame is with apt fuel fed ;
Fair! I confess there's pleasure in your sight :
Prayers move the heavens but find no grace with you;
THE LOVER CURSETH FIRST LOVE
Saint of my heart, Queen of my life and love,
THE LOVER CURSETH THE TIME WHEN
FIRST HE FELL IN LOVE
When first mine eyes did view and mark
Thy beauty fair for to behold,
The pleasant words that thou me told;
hands did handle oft,
To find and have thy company;
And when in mind I did consent
To follow thus my fancy's will,
To taste such bait myself to spill,
Then should not I such cause have found
To wish this monstrous sight to see,
Should not deny me remedy:
W. Hunnis (?).
O CRUDELIS AMOR
O GENTLE Love, ungentle for thy deed,
For fear too keen
Thy arrows been,
Shall be so blest,
Among the rest, That Love shall seize on her by sympathy. Then since with Love my prayers bear no boot,
This doth remain
To cease my pain,
Geo. Peele. A LOVER'S DIRGE
VOBISCUM EST OPE, VOBISCUM CANDIDA TYRO When thou must home to shades of underground, And there arrived, a new admired guest, The beauteous spirits do engirt thee round, White Iope, blithe Helen, and the rest, To hear the stories of thy finish'd love From that smooth tongue whose music hell can
move ; Then wilt thou speak of banqueting delights, Of masques and revels which sweet youth did make, Of tourneys and great challenges of knights, And all these triumphs for thy beauty's sake: When thou hast told these honours done to thee, Then tell, O tell, how thou didst murder me!
A LOVER'S DIRGE
Fly away, fly away, breath;
O prepare it!
Did share it.
i Cypres, crape. Cf. Autolycus' song
Lawn as white as driven snow,
Cypres black as e'er was crow.' and Milton's
"Sable stole of cypres-lawn.'-11 Penseroso.