THE THIRD AND FOURTH BOOK OF AIRS: Composed BY Thomas Campian. So as they may be expressed by one Voice, with a Viol, Lasts, or Orphari●m. LONDON: Printed by Thomas Snodham. Cum P●i●ilegio A Table of all the Songs contained in the two Books following. The table of the first Book. OF● have I sighed. I Now let her change. TWO Were my hearts as. III Maids are simple some men say. IIII So tired are all my thoughts. V Why presumes thy pride. VI Kind are her answers. VII O grief, O spite. VIII O never to be moved. IX Break now my heart and die. X It Love loves truth. XI Now winter nights enlarge. XII Awake thou spring. XIII What is it that men possess? XIIII Fire that must flame. XV If thou longest so much. XVI Shall I come sweet love? XVII Thrice toss these Oaken. XVIII Be thou then my beauty. XIX Fire, fire, fire, fire, lo here. XX O sweet delight. XXI Thus I resolve. XXII Come, o come my life's XXIII Could my heart more. XXIIII Sleep angry beauty, XXV Silly boy 'tis full M●one yet. XXVI Never love unless you can. XXVII So quick, so hot. XXVIII Shall I then hope. XXIX The Table of the second Book. Leave prolonging. I Respect my faith, TWO Thou joyest fond boy. III Veil love mine eyes. IIII Every Dame affects good fame. V So sweet is thy discourse. VI There is a Garden in her face. VII To his sweet Lute. VIII Young and simple though I am. IX Love me or not. X What means this folly? XI Dear if I with guile. XII O Love where are thy shafts? XIII Beauty is but a painted hell. XIIII Are you what your? XV Since she even she. XVI I must complain. XVII Thinkest tho● to seduce. XVIII Her fair inflaming eyes. XIX Turn all thy thoughts. XX If any hath the heart to kill. XXI Beauty since you. XXII Your fair looks. XXIII Feign would I wed. XXIIII FINIS. TO MY HONOURABLE FRIEND, S R. THOMAS MOUNSON, KNIGHT AND BARONET. SInce now those clouds, that lately overcast Your Fame and Fortune, are dispersed at last: And now since all to you fair greetings make, Some out of love, and some for pities sake: Shall I but with a common style salute Your new enlargement? or stand only mute? ay, to whose trust and care you durst commit Your pined health, when Art despaired of it? ay, that in your affliction often viewed In you the fruits of manly fortitude, Patience, and even constancy of mind, That Rocke-like stood, and scorned both wave, and wind? Should I for all your ancient love to me▪ Endowed with weighty favours, silent be? Your merits, and my gratitude forbid That either should in Lethean Gulf lie hid But how shall I this work of fame expre●●e? How can I better, after pensiveness, Then with light strains of Music, made to move Sweetly with the wide-spreading plumes of love? These youth-borne Airs then, prisoned in this Book, Which in your Bowers much of their being took, Accept as a kind offering from that hand Which joined with heart your virtue may command. Who love a sure friend as all good men do, Since such you are, let those affect you to: And may the joys of that Crown never end, That innocence doth pity, and defend.— Yours devoted, THOMAS CASPIAN. OFt have I sighed, oft have I sighed, oft have I sighed for him that hears me not: Who absent hath both love and me for-got. Oh yet I languish still, yet I languish still, yet I languish still through his de-lay. days seem as years, when wished friends break their day. BASSUS. ● 〈◊〉 he but loved as common lovers use, His faithless stay some kindness would excuse: O yet I languish still, still constant mo●rne For him that can break vows, but not return. NOw let her change and spare not, Since ●he proves strange I care not: Feigned love charmed so my delight, That still I doted on her sight. But she is gone new ●oies embracing And my deires dis-gracing. BASSUS. 2 When did I err in blindness? Or vex her with unkindness? If my cares served her alone; Why is she thus untimely gone? True love abides to t'houre of dying; False love is eu●●●ving. 3 False then farewell for ●u●r: Once false proves faithful never. He that boasts now of thy lou●, Shall soon my pr●●ent to●tunes prove. Were he as fair at bright Ad●mu; Faith is not had where none ●●. CANTUS. III. WF●● my heart as some men's are, thy errors would not move me: But thy faults I cu-rious Patience is a thing d● find and speak, because I love thee: vine, and far I grant a-bove me. BASSUS. 2 Foes sometimes be friend us more, our blacker deeds objecting, Then th'obs●quious bosom guest, with false respect affecting: Friendship is the glass of Truth, our hidden stains detecting. 3 While I use of eyes enjoy, and inward light of reason, Thy observer will I be, and c●●sor, but in season: Hidden mischief to conc●●●e in Sease, and Love is 〈◊〉 o●. maids are simple some men say, They forsooth will trust no men: But should they men's o.bey, Maids were very simple then. BASSUS. 2 Truth a rare flower now is grown, Few men wear it in their hearts; Lovers are more easily known By their follies, than deserts. 3 Safer may we credit give To a faithless wandering jew, Then a young man's vows believe, When he swears bis 〈◊〉 we. 2 Love they make a poor blind child, But let none trust such as Fee; Rather then to be beguned Ever let me simple be. CANTUS. V. SO tired are all my thoughts, that sense and spirits fail; Mourning I pine, and know not what I ail. O what can yield ease to a mind, toy in nothing that can find? BASSUS. 2 How are my powers sore-spoke? what strange distaste is this? Hence cruel hate of that which sweetest is: Come, come delight, make my dull brain Feel once heat of joy ag●●ne. 3 The lovers tears are sweet, their moner makes them so: Proud of a wound the bleeding Soldiers grous: Poor I alone, dreaming, endure Grief that knows nor cause, nor cure. And whence can all this grow? even from an idle mi●de, That no delight in any good can find. Action alone makes the soul blest; Virtue dies with too much reft. WHy presumes thy pride on that that must so private be? Scarce that it can Best of all t●at good be called, though it seems best to thee. Nature framed, or cu-rious eye can see. BASSUS. 2 'tis thy beau'y, soc'●sh Maid, that like a blossom grows, Which who views no more enjoys then on a bush a Rose, That by manies handling fades; and thou 〈◊〉 one of those. 3 If to one thou sh●lt prove true, and all beside reject, Then art thou but one man's good, which yields a poor effect; For the commonest good by larre deserves the best respect. 4 But if for this goodness thou thyself ●●lt● common make, Thou art then not good at all; so thou canst no way 〈◊〉 But to prove the meanest good, or else all good foretake. 5 Be not then of be ●●ry proud, but so her colours bears, That they prove not stains to her that them ●or 〈◊〉 ●●ould we●●●; So shalt thou to all more fair than thou west borne appear. CANTUS. VII. Kind are her answers, but her per-formance keeps no day. All her free favours & smooth words Breaks time as dancers from their own Music when they stray: wing my hopes in vain. O did ever voice so sweet but only fain? Can true love yield such delay, conver-ting joy to pain? BASSUS. 2 Lost is our freedom, When we submit to women so: Why do we need them, When in their best they work our woe? There is no wisdom Can alter ends by Fate prefixed; O why is the good of man with evil mixed? Never were days yet ca ' d two, But one night went betwixt. O Grief, O spite, to see poor Virtue scorned, Truth far ex- n'd, False art loved: Vice adored, Fr●e justice sold, worst causes best adorned, Right cast by power, Pity in vain imploted! O who in such an age could wish to live, When none can have or hold but such as give? BASSUS. 2 O times ' O men! to Nature rebels grown; Poor in desert; in name rich; proud of shame; Wise, but in ill: your styles are not your own, Though dearly bought, honour is honest fame. Old Stories only goodness now contain, And the true wisdom, that is just, and plain. 〈…〉 O Never to be moved, O beauty un relen-ting; Why did I dream Hard heart too dearly loved, Fond love too late repen-ting! of too much bliss? Deceitful hope was cause of this. O hear, o hear, o bear me speak, O hear me speak this and no more, this and no more, this and no more, Live you in joy, while I my woes, my woes de-plore. BASSUS. 2 All comforts despaired Distaste your bitter scorning, Great sorrows unrepayred Admit no mean in mourning: Dye wretch, since hope from thee is fled; He that must die is better dead. O dear delight, yet ere I die Some pity show, though you relief deny. CANTUS. X. Break now my heart and die, Oh no, oh no, she may re-lent. Should she now Let my despair prevail, oh stay, oh stay, hope is not spent. fix one smile on thee, where were despair? The loss is but easy which smiles can repair. A stranger would please thee, if she were as fair BASSUS. 2 Her must I love or none, so sweet none breathes as she, The more is my despair, alas she loves not me: But cannot time make way for love through ribs of steel? The Grecian enchanted a●l parts but the heel, At last a shaft daunted which his heart did feel. CANTUS. XI. IF Love loves truth, than women do not love: Their passions all are but dis-sembled shows, Now kind and free of favour if they prove. Their kindness strait a tempest overthrows. Then as a Seaman the poor lover fares, The storm drowns him ere he can drown his cares. BASSUS. 2 But why accuse I women that deceive? Blame then the Foxes for their subtle wile: They first from Nature did their craft receive: It is a woman's nature to beguile. Yet some I grant in loving steadfast grow; But such by use, are made, not nature so. O why had Nature power at once to frame Deceit and Beauty, traitors both to Love? Oh would Deceit had died when Beauty came With her divineness every heart to move! Yet do we rather wish what ere befall, To have fair women false, than none at all. NOw winter nights en-large the number of their hours, And clouds their Let now the attorneys blaze, and cups overflow with wine: Let well-tuned storms discharge upon the airy towers, Now yel-low waxen lights shall wait on honey words a-maze with harmony divine. Love, While youthful Revels, Masks, and Courtly sights, sleeps leaden spells re-move. BASSUS. 2 This time doth well dispense With lovers long discourse; Much spe●ch hath some defence, Though beauty no remorse. All do not all things well; Some measures comely tread; Some knotted Riddles tell; Some Poems smoothly read. The Summer hath his joys, And Winter his delights; Though Love and all his pleasures are but toys, They shorten tedious nights. 〈…〉 AWake thou spring of spea-king grace, mute rest becomes not thee; They fairest women, while they sleep, and Pictures equal be. O come and dwell in loves dis●our-ses, old renewing, new cre-a-ting. The words which thy rich tongue discour-ses, are not of the common ra-ting. BASSUS. 2 Thy voice is ●s an ●●cho clear●, which Music doth beget; Thy spee●● is ●n Or●●●, which no●e can coun●et●t: For thou ●one 〈◊〉 ●●nchanting And I co●d hear 〈◊〉 w●●●out ending, Other com●o●: never wanting. 3 Some little reason brutish lives w●●● human glory share, But language is our proper grace ●●om which they ●●uer dare. As brutes in reason man ●u●pass Men in speech excel 〈◊〉 other: If speech be then the best of ●●aces, Do it not in slumber smother. CANTUS. XIIII. WHat is it all that men possess among themselves conversing? Wealth or fame, or Women only som● such boast, scarce worthy the rehearsing. are men's good with them in love conversing. BASSUS. 2 If weary, they prepare us rest; if sick, their hand attends us. When with grief our hearts are preft, their comfort best befriends us: Sweet or sour they willing go to share what fortune sends us. 3 What pretty babes with pain they bear our name & torm presenting? What we get, how wise they keep, by sparing, wants preventing; Sorting all their household cares to our observed contening. 4 All this of whose large use I sing, in two words is exp●sle▪ Good wife is the good I praise, if by good men possessed, Bad with bad in ill fate well, but good with good ●ue 〈◊〉. CANTUS. XV. FIre that must flame is with apt fuel fed, Flowers that will thrive in sunny soil are bred; How can a heart feel heat that no hope finds? Or can he love on whom no comfort shines? BASSUS. 2 Fair, I confess there's pleasure in your sight: Sweet, you have power I grant of all delight. But what is all to me if I have none ' Churl that you are t'enjoy such wealth alone. 3 Prayers move the heavens, but find no grace with you; Yet in your looks a heavenly form I view: Then will I pray again, hoping to find As well as in your looks, heaven in your mind. 4 Saint of my heart, Queen of my life, and love, O let my vows thy doing spirit move: Let me no longer mourn through thy disdain, But with one touch of grace cure all my pain: CANTUS. XVI. IF thou longest so much to learn (sweet boy) what 'tis to love. Little suit at first shall win Do but fix thy thought on me, and thou shalt quick-ly prove. Way to thy abashed desire: But then will I hedge thee in, Salamander-like with fire. BASSUS. 2 With thee dance I will, and sing, and thy fond dalliance bear; We the grovy hil● will climb, and play the wantoness there. Other whiles we'll gather flowers, Lying dallying on the grass, And thus our delightful hours Full of waking dreams shall pass. 3 When thy joys were thus at height my love should turn from thee, Old acquaintance than should grow as strange as strange might be, Twenty rituals thou shouldst find Breaking all their hearts for me, When to all i'll prove more kind, And more forward then to thee. 4 Thus thy silly youth enraged would soon my love d●f●e; But alas poor soul too late, eclipse wings can never fly Those sweet hours which we had pi●t Called to mind thy heart would burn: And couldst thou fly ne'er so fast, They would make thee strait return. 〈◊〉 XVII. SHall I come sweet Love to thee, When the evening beams are set? Shall not ex-cluded be? Will you find no feigned let? Let me not for pity more, Tell the long, long hours, tell the long hours at your door. BASSUS. 2 Who can tell what thief or foe, In the covert of the night, For his prey will work my woe; Or through wicked foul despite: So may I die unredrcft, Ere my long love be possessed. 3 But to let such danger's pass, Which a lovers thoughts disdain: 'Tis enough in such a place To attend loves joys in vain, Do not mock me in thy bed, While these cold nights freeze me dead. CANTUS. XVIII. THrice toss these Oaken ashes in the air; Then thrice three times tie Thrice sit thou mute in this enchanted chair: up this true loves knot, And murmur soft she will, or she will not. BASSUS. 2 Go burn these poisonous weeds in you blue fire, These Screech-owl's feathers, and this prickling briar, This Cypress gathered at a dead man's grave; That all thy fears and cares an end may have. 3 Then come you Fairies, dance with me a round, Melt her hard heart with your melodious sound: In vain are all the charms I can devise, She hath an Art to break them with her eyes. CANTUS. XIX. BE thou then my beauty named, Since thy will is to be mine: Others For by that am I inflamed, Which on all alike doth shine. may the light ad-mire, I only truly feel the fire. BASSUS. 2 But if lofty titles move thee, Challenge then a oblivion's place: Say I honour when I love thee, Let me call thy kindness grace. State and Love things divers be, Yet will we teach them to agree. 3 Or if this be not sufficing; Be thou styled my Goddess then: I will love thee sacrificing, In thine honour Hymns I'll pen. To be thine, what canst thou more? I'll love thee, serve thee, and adore. CANTUS. XX. FIre, fire, fire, fire, lo here I burn, I burn in such desire▪ That all the tears that I can strain out of mine idle empty brain, Cannot alloy my scorching pain. Come Trent and Humber, and fair Thames, Dread Ocean haste with all thy streams: And if you cannot quench my fire, O drown both 〈◊〉 drown both me, and my de-sire. BASSUS. 2 Fire, fire, fire, fire. There is no hell to my desire: 〈◊〉 all the Rivers backward fly, And th' Ocean doth his waves deny, For fear my heat should drink them dry. Come heavenly showers than poring 〈◊〉: Come you that once the world did drow●e: Some than you spared, but now save all, That else must burn, and with me fall. CANTUS. XXI. O Sweet delight, O more than human bliss, With her to live that ever loving is: To hear her speak whose words so well are placed, That she by them, as they in her are graced: Those looks to view that feast the viewers eye. How blest is he that may so live and die? BASSUS. 2 Such love as this the golden times did know, When all did reap, yet none took care to sew: Such love as this an endless Summer makes, And all distaste from frail affection takes. So loved, so blest, in my beloved 〈◊〉 I, Which till their eyes a●●e let iron men envy. 〈◊〉 XXII. THus I resolve and time hath taught me so, Since she is fair and ever kind to me, Though she be wild and wanton-like in show, Those little stains in youth I will not see: That she be constant heaven I oft im-plore; If prayers prevail not, I can do no more. BASSUS. 2 Palm tree the more you press, the more is grows, Leave it alone it will not much exceed: Free beauty if you strive to yoke, you lose, And for affection strange distaste you breed. What Nature hath not taught no Art can frame; Wild borne be wild still, though by force made 〈◊〉. CANTUS. XXIII. Come, O come my life's delight; Let me not in languor, pine● Love loves no de-lay: thy sight, The more enjoyed, the more divine. O come and take from me The pain of being deprived of thee. BASSUS. 2 Thou all sweetness dost enclose, Like a little world of bliss: Beauty guards thy looks, the Rose In them pure and eternal is. Come then and make thy flight As swift to me as heavenly light. CANTUS. XXIIII. COuld my heart more tongues employ, Then it harbours thoughts of grief; It is now so far from joy, That it fierce could ask relief. Truest hearts by deeds unkind, To despair are most inclined. BASSUS. 2 Happy minds that can redeem Then engagements how they please; That no joys, or hopes esteem Half so precious as their ease. Wisdom should prepare men so As if they did all foreknow. 3 Yet no Art or Caution can Grown affections easily change; Use is such a Lord of Man, That he brooks worst what is strange. Better never to be blest, Then to lose all at the best. CANTUS. XXV. Sleep angry beauty, sleep, and fear not me; For who a sleeping Lion dares provoke? It shall suf-fice me here to sit and see Those lips shut up that never kindly spoke. What sight can more content a lovers mind, Then beauty seeming harmless if not kind? BASSUS. 2 My words have charmed her, for secure she sleeps, Though guilty much of wrong done to my love; And in her slumber see she close-eyed weeps, Dreams often more than waking passions move. Plead sleep my cause, and make her soft like thee, That she in peace may wake and pity me. CANTUS. XXVI. SIlly boy, 'tis full Moon yet, Thy night as day shines clearly, Had thy youth but wit To fear, thou couldst not love so dear: Shortly wilt thou mourn when all thy pleasures are be- reaved; Little knows he how to love that never was deceived. BASSUS. 2 This is thy first maiden flame that triumphs yet unstained; All is artless now you speaks, not one word yet is feigned; All is heaven that you behold, and all your thoughts are blessed: But no Spring can want his Fall, each Troylesses hath his Crossoid. 3 Thy well-ordered locks ere long shall rudely hang neglected; And thy lively pleasant cheer, reads grief on earth dejected: Much than wilt thou blame thy Saint that made thy heart so holy. And with sighs confeste, in love, that too much faith is folly. 4 Yet be just and constant still, Love may beget a wonder; Not unlike a Summer's frost, or Winter's fatal thunder: He that holds his Sweetheart true unto his day of dying, lives of all that ever breathed most worthy the ●●●ying. 〈◊〉 XXVII. Never love unless you can Bear with all the faults of man: Men sometimes will jealous be, Though but little cause they see, And hang the head as discon-tent, And speak what strait they will re-pent. BASSUS. 2 Men that but one Saint adore, Make a show of love to more: Beauty must be scorned in none, Though but truly served in one; For what is courtship but disguise? True hearts may have dissembling eyes. 3 Men when their affairs require, Must a while themselves retire; Sometimes hunt, and sometimes hawk, And not ever fit and talk. If these and such like you can bear, Then like, and love, and never fear. CANTUS. XXVIII. SO quick, so hot, so mad is thy fond suit, So rude, so That fain I would with loss make thy tongue mute, And yield some te-dious grown in urging me. An hour with thee I care not to con-verse: For I would not little grace to quiet thee. be coun-ted too perverse. BASSUS. 2 But roofs too hot would prove for men all fire, And hills too high for my unused pace; The grove is charged with thorns and the bold briar; Grey Snakes the meadows shroud in every place: A yellow Frog alas will fright me so As I should start and tremble as I go. 3 Since then I can on earth no fit room finds, In heaven I am resolved with you to meet; Till then for Hopes sweet sake reft your tired mind, And not so much as see me in the street: A heavenly meeting one day we shall have, But never, as you dream, in bed, or grave. CANTUS. XXIX. SHall I then hope when faith is fled? Can I seek love when hope is gone? Or can I live when Love is dead? Poorly he lives that can love none. Her vows are broke, and I am free, She lost her faith in losing me. BASSUS. 2 When I compare mine own events, When I weigh others like annoy; All do but heap up discontents, That on a beauty build their joy. Thus I of all complain, since she● All faith hath lost in losing me. 3 So my dear freedom have I gained, Through her unkindness, and disgrace, Yet could I ever live enchained, As she my service did embrace. But sh●●● i● changed, and I am free, Faith failing her, Love died in me. TO MY WORTHY FRIEND, MR. JOHN MOUNSON, Son and Heir to Sir Thomas Mounson Knight and Baronet. ON you th' affections of your Father's Friends, With his Inheritance by right descends; But you your graceful youth so wisely guide, That his you hold, and purchase much beside. Love is the fruit of Virtue, for whose sake Men only liking each to other take. If sparks of virtue shined not in you then, So well how could you win the hearts of men? And since that honour and well-suted Praise Is virtues Golden Spur; let me now raise Unto an act mature your tender age, This half commending to your Patronage: Which from your Noble Fathers, but one side Ordained to do you honour, doth divide. And so my love betwixt you both I part, On each side placing you as near my heart. Yours ever, THOMAS CAMPIAN. To the READER. THE Apothecaries have Books of Gold, whose leaves being opened are so light as that they are subject to be shaken with the least breath, yet rightly handled, they serve both for ornament and use; such are light Airs. But if any squeamish stomachs shall check at two or three vain Ditties in the end of this Book, let them power off the clearest, and leave those as dregs in the bottom. How soever if they be but conferred with the Canterbury Tales of that venerable Poet Chaucer, they will then appear toothsome enough. Some words are in these Books, which have been clothed in Music by others, and I am conten● they then served their turn: yet give me now leave to make use of mine own. Likewise you may find here some three or four Songs that have been published before, but for them I refer you to the Player's Bill that is failed, Newly revived with Additions, for you shall find all of them reform either in Words or Notes. To be brief, all these Songs are mine if you express them well, otherwise they are your own, Farewell. Yours as you are his, THOMAS CAMPIAN. CANTUS. I. Leave pro-longing, leave pro-longing, thy distress, All de- lays afflict the dying. Many lost sighs long I spent, to her for mer-cy cry- ing: But now vain mour-ning cease, I'll die, I'll die, and mine own griefs release. BASSUS. 2 Thus departing from this light To those shades that end all sorrow, Yet a small time of complaint, a little breath I'll borrow, To tell my once delight I die alone through her despite. CANTUS. II. RE-spect my faith, re-gard my service past; The hope you winged call home to Great prize it is that I in you shall gain: So great for you hath been my you at last. My wits I spent and time for you alone; Observing you and losing all for one. loss & pain. BASSUS. 2 Some raised to rich estates in this time are, That held their hopes to mine interior fairs; Such scoffing me, or pitying me, say thus, Had he not loved he might have lived like us. O then dear sweet for love and pittits sake My faith reward, and from me scandal take. CANTUS. III. THou joyest fond boy to be by many loved: For this dost thou thy na- 〈◊〉 To have thy beauty of most dames approved. Thy glass thou coun-cel'st more 〈◊〉 worth disguise, And play'st the Sy-co-phant t'observe their eyes, durne thy skin, That first should school thee to be fair within. BASSUS. 2 'Tis childish to be caught with Pearl, or Amber, And womanlike too much to cloy the chamber; Youths should the Field affect, heat their rough Steeds Their hardened nerves to fit for better deeds. Is't not more joy strong Holds to force with swords, Than women's weakness take with looks or words? 2 Men that do noble things all purchase glory, One man for one brave Act hath proved a story: But if that one ten thousand Dames o'creime, Who would record it if not to his shame? 'Tis far more conquest with one to live true, Then every hour to triumph Lord of new. CANTUS. FOUR vail love mine eyes, O hide from me The plagues that charge the curious mind: If beauty private will not be, Suffice it yet that she proves kind. Who can usurp heavens light alone? Stars were not made, Stars were not made to shine on one. BASSUS. 2 Griefs past recure fools try to heal, That greater harms on less inflict: The pure offend by too much zeal, Affection should not be too strict. He that a true embrace will find To beauty's faults must still be blind. 〈…〉 Every Dame af-fects good fame, what ere her doings be: But true praise is Virtues Borrowed guise fits not the wife, a simple look is best: Na-tive grace becomes a Baves, which none may wear but she. Now such newfound toys are sold these women to dis-guise, face, though ne'er so rude-ly dreft. That before the year grows old the new-est fashion dies. BASSUS. 2 Dames of yore contended more in goodness to exceeds, Then in pride to be envied for that which left they need: Little Lawn than ferued the Pawn, it Pawn at all there were; Homespun thread, and household bread than held out all the year: But th'attires of women now wear out both house and land, That the wives in silks may flow at ebb the Goodmen stand. 3 Once again Astrea then from heaven to earth descend, And vouchsafe in their behalf these errors to amend: Aid from heaven must make all e'en, things are so out of frame; For let man strive all he can, he needs must please his Dame. Happy man content that gives, and what he gives enjoys; Happy Dame content that lives, and breaks no sleep for toys. SO sweet, so sweet is thy dis-course to me, And so delightful is thy sight, As I taste nothing right but thee. O why inven-ted Nature light? Was it alone for beauty's sake, That her graced words might better take? BASSUS. 2 No more can I old joys recall, They now to me become unknown, Not seeming to have been at all. Alas how soon is this love grown To such a spreading height in rise, As with it all must shadowed be? THere is a Garden in her face, Where Roses and white Lilies grow; A heavenly paradise is that place, wherein all pleasant fruits do flow. There Cherries grow which none may buy, Till Cherry ripe, till Cherry ripe, till Cherry ripe, Cherry ripe, ripe, ripe, Cherry ripe, Cherry ripe themselves do cry. BASSUS. 2 Those Cherries fairly do enclose Of Orient Pearl a double row, Which when her lovely laughter shows, They look like Role-buds filled with snow, Yet them nor Peer, nor Prince can buy, Till Cherry ripe themselves do cry. 3 Her Eyes like Angels watch them still; Her Brows like bended bows do stand, Threatening with piercing frowns to kill All that attempt with eye or hand Those sacred Cherries to come nigh, Till Cherry ripe themselves do cry. TO his sweet Lute Apollo sung the motion's of the Spheres; The wondrous order of the Stars, whose course divides the years: And all the My-steries above; But none of this could Midas move, Which purchased him his Ass' ears. BASSUS. 2 Then Pan with his rude Pipe began the Country-wealth t'advance; To boast of Cattle, flocks of Sheep, and Goats, on hills that dance, With much more of this churlish kind: That quite transported Midas mind, An held him rapt as in a trance. 3 This wrong the God of Music scorned from such a sottish judge, And bent his angry bow at Pan, which made the Piper trudge Then Midas head he so did trim, That every age yet talks of him And Phoebus right revenged grudge. CANTUS. IX. YOung and simple though I am, I have heard of Cupid's name: Guess I can what thing it is, Men desire when they do kill. Smoke can never burn they say, But t●e flames that follow may. BASSUS. 2 I am not so foul or fair, To be proud, nor to desparye; Guess I can what thing it is Men desire when they do kiss. Smoke can never burn they say, But the flames that follow may. 3 Faith 'tis but a foolish mind, Yet me thinks a heat I find, Like thirst longing that doth bide Ever on my weaker side: Where they say my heart doth move, Venus grant it be not love. 4 If it he, alas, what then? Were not women made for men? A good ' twete a thing were passed, That must needs be done at last. Roses that are overblown Grow less sweet, then fall alone. 5 Yet nor Churl, nor ●●lken Gull Shall my Maiden blossom pull: Who shall not I soon can tell, Who shall would I could as well: This I know who ere he be Love he must, or flatter me. CANTUS. X. Love me or not, love her I must or die. O that her grace would my wished Leave me or not, follow her needs must I. comforts give. How rich in her, how happy should I live? BASSUS. 2 All my desire, all my delight should be Her to enjoy, her to unite to me: Envy should cease, her would I love alone, Who loves by looks, is seldom true to one. 3 Could I enchant, and that it lawful were, Her would I charm so●tly th●t none should hear: But love enforced rarely yields firm content, So would I love that neither should repent. CANTUS. XI WHat means this folly now to brave it so, And then to use submission? Is that a friend that strait can play the foe? Who loves on such conditi-on? BASSUS. 2 Though briars breed Roses, none the Briar affect, But with the flower are pleased: Love only loves delight, and soft respect, He must not be diseased. 3 These thorny passions spring from barren breasts, Or such as need much weeding: Love only loves delight, and soft respect, But sends them not home bleeding. 4 Command thy humour, strive to give content, And shame not loves profession: Of kindness never any could repent That made choice with discretion. Dear if I with guile would gild a true in-tent, Heaping flatteries that in heart were never me●nt: Easily could I then obtain what now in vain I force. Falsehood much doth gain, Truth yet holds the bet-ter course. BASSUS. 2 Love forbid that through dissembling I should thrive, Or in praising you, myself of truth deprive: Let not your high thoughts debase A simple truth in me; Great is beauty's grace, Truth is yet as fair as ●hee. 3 Praise is but the wind of pride if it exceeds, Wealth prized in itself no outward value needs. Fair you are, and passing fair, You know it, and 'tis true, Yet let none despair But to find as fair as you. 〈…〉 O Love, where are thy Shafts, thy Quiver and thy Bow? Shall my wounds only weep and hea ungaged go? Be just and strike him to, that dares contemn thee so. BASSUS. 2 No eyes are ●ike to t●ine, though men suppose thee blin●●, So fair they l●uell when the make they at to find: Then strike, o strike the heart ' hat hears the cruel mind. 3 Is my fond sight deceived? or do I Cupid spy Close aiming at his breast, by whom defined I die? Shoot home sweet Love, and wound him that h●e may no fly. 4 O t●en we both will s●●● some unhaunted shade, And 〈…〉 he●s wound which L●ve hath ●ustly made: O 〈…〉 too vain, now quickly dost thou fade? 5 〈…〉 ●onders still, his heart is free from pain, W●●●e se●● si●ne I ●p●●● and t●ar●●, but l 〈◊〉 in vain: Yet Love thou kn●w ' it by right I should not thus complain. CANTUS. XIIII. BEauty is but a 〈…〉 me, ●aye me, thou wounds them that admire it, She kills them that desire it. Give her pride but ●uell, No fire is more cruel. BASSUS. 2 Pity from every heart is fled, Ay me, aye me, Since false desire could borrow Tears of dislembled sorrow, Constant vows turn truthless, Love cruel, Beauty ruthl●sle. 3 Sorrow can laugh and Fury sing, Ay me, aye me; My raving g●●● 〈◊〉 I ●u'd too 〈◊〉 a lover: The first st●p to madness. Is the excess of sadness. 〈…〉 ARe you what your fair looks express? Oh then be kind, From law of Nature they digress, Whole form suits not their mind. Fairness seen in th'outward shape is but th'inward beauties Ape. BASSUS. 2 Eyes that of earth are mortal made What can they view? All's but a colour or a shade, And neither always true. Reason's sight that is eterne, e'en the substance can discern. 3 Soul is the Man; for who will so The body name? And to that power all grace we owe That decks our lining frame. What, or how had houses been, But for them that dwell therein? 4 Love in the bosom is begot, Not in the eyes: No beauty makes the eye more hot, Her flames the sprite surprise: Let our loving minds than meets, For pure meetings are most sweet. CANTUS. XVI. SInce she, e'en she, for whom I lived, Sweet she by Fate from me is torn, Why a n not I of sense deprived. Forgetting I was ever borne? Why should I lan-guish hating light? Bet-ter to sleep an endless night. BASSUS. 2 Be't either true or aptly feigned, That some of Lethe's water write, 'Tis their best medicine that are pained, All thought to lose of past delight. O would my anguiths vanish so! Happy are they that neither know. 〈…〉 I Must complain, yet do enjoy my Love, She is too fair, too rich in lovely parts: Thence is my grief, for Nature while she strove With all her graces and divinest Arts To form her too too beautiful of hue, She had no leisure left to make her true. BASSUS. 2 Should I aggrieved then wish thee were less fair? That were repugnant to mine own desires: She is admired, new lovers still repair, That kindles daily loves forgetful fires. Rest jealous thoughts, and thus resolve at last, She hath more beauty than becomes the chaste. CANTUS. XVIII. THink'st thou to se-duce me then with words that have no mea-ning? Parats so Nurses teach can learn to prate our speech by pie-ces glea-ning. their chilren so, about the time of wea-ning. BASSUS. 2 Learn to speak first, then to woo, to wooing much pertaineth: He that courts us wanting Art, soon falters when he feigneth: Looks asquint on his discourse, and smiles when he complaineth. 3 Skilful Anglers hide their hooks, fit baits for every season; But with crooked pin's fish thou, as babes do that want reason, gudgeons only can be caught with such poor tricks of treason. 4 Ruth forgive me if I erred from human hearts compassion, When I laughed sometimes too much to see thy foolish fashion: But alas, who less could do that found so good occasion? 〈…〉 HEr fair inflaming eyes, chief authors of my cares, I prayed in humblest wife, With grace to view my tears: They be-held me broad awake, But a- lass no ruth would take. BASSUS. 2 Her lips with kisses rich, And words of fair delight, I fairly did beseech To pity my sad plight: But a voice from them broke forth As a whirlwind from the North. 3 Then to her hands I fled, That can give heart and all, To them I long did plead, And loud for pity call: But alas they put me off, With a touch worse than a scoff. 4 So back I strait returned, And at her breast I knocked; Where long in vain I mourned, Her heart so fast was locked; Not a word could passage find, For a Rock enclosed her mind. 5 Then down my prayers made way To those most comely parts, That make her fly or stay, As they affect deserts: But her angry feet thus moved Fled with all the parts I loved. 6 Yet fled they not so fast As her enraged mind: Still did I after haste, Still was I left behind, Till I found 'twas to no end With a Spirit to contend. Turn all thy thoughts to eyes, Turn all thy hairs to ears; Change all thy friends to spies, And all thy loves to fears. True Love will yet be free Inspite of jealousy. BASSUS. 2 Turn darkness into day, Constructures into truth: Believe what th'envious say, Let age interpret youth True love will yet be free, Inspite of jealousy. 3 Wrest everylword and look, Rack every hidden thought: Or fish with golden hook, True love cannot be caught, For that will still be free, In spite of jealousy. CANTUS. XXI. IF any hath the he 〈…〉 kill, Come rid me of this woeful pain: For while I live I so 〈…〉 still, This cruel torment all in vain. Yet none alive but one can guess What is the cause of my distress. BASSUS. 2 Thanks be to heaven, no grievous smart, No maladies my limbs annoy: I bear a sound and sprightful heart, Yet live I quite deprived of joy; Since what I had in vain I crave, And what I had not now I have. 3 A Love I had so fair, so sweet, As ever wanton eye did see: Once by appointment we did meet, She would, but ah it would not be: She gave her heart, her hand she gave, All did I give, she nought could have. 4 What Hag did then my powers forespeak, That never yet such ta'en did feel? Now she rejects me as one weak, Yet am I all composed of steel. Ah this is it my heart doth grieve, Now though she sees she'll not believe. 〈…〉 BEauty, since you so much desire, to know the place of Cupid's fire: A- bout you somewhere doth it rest, Yet never harboured in your breast: Nor gout-like in your heel or toe; What fool would seek loves flame so low? But a little higher, but a little higher but a, a little higher, but a little higher: There, thereô there lies Cupid's fire. BASSUS. 2 Think not when Cupid most you scorn, Men judge that you of Ice were borne: For though you cast love at your heel, His fury yet sometime you feel, And where-aboves if you would know, I tell you still not in your toe: But a little higher, but a little higher; There, there, o there lies Cupid's fire. CANTUS. XXIII. YOur fair looks urge my de-sire, Calm it sweet with love, If Love Stay, o why will you re-tire? Can you churlish prove? may persuade, loves pleasures dear de-ny not: Here is a grove secured with shade, O then be wise and fly not. BASSUS. 2 Hark the Birds delighted sing, Yet our pleasure sleeps: Wealth to none can profit bring, Which the miler keeps: O come while we may, Let's chain Love with embraces, We have not all times time to stay, Not safety in all places. 3 What ill find you now in this; Or who can complain? There is nothing done attrisse That breeds no man pain. 'Tis is now flowery May, But e'en in cold December, When all these leaves are blowwne away This place shall I remember. CANTUS. XXIIII. Feign would I wed a fair young man, that day and night could please me: When my ●●ler bo 〈◊〉 bo-dy grieved that ha●●e power to ease me. Maid's 〈…〉 lo-ging 〈…〉, that b●●ed a bloodless sickness▪ Oft I have been An 〈…〉 I hear men say, is only cured by quickness. Many for a 〈…〉 I: Hat this foolish 〈◊〉 of mine stra 〈…〉 loathes 〈◊〉 re- 〈…〉 dearly loved; If to love be sin in me, that sin is 〈◊〉 solved. Sure I think I shall as last ●●ve to some holy Order; Yet I would not solved. When I once 〈…〉 settled there then can I fly no farther: As I was by die a maid, because I had a mot●e●. one brought forth I woul● bring forth another. BASSUS. FINIS.