« EelmineJätka »
Wine fills the veins, and healths are understood
HLORIS farewel! I now must go :
For if with thee I longer stay,
Among the rest, me hither brought:
A fervant to another's will:
When thou, foreknowing this abuse, For some more worthy lover's fake,
May'Â leave me with so just excuse.
That thou didst thus inconstant prove;
And raise thy story to that height,
And gain such trust, that I may come
But make my constant meals at home.
Of my Lady ISABELLA playing on the lute. UCH moving sounds, from such a careless touch!.
So unconcern'd herself, and we so much! What art is this, that with so little pains Transports us thus, and o'er our spirits reigns ? The trembling ftrings about her fingers crowd, And tell their joy for every kiss aloud : Small force there needs to make them tremble so; Touch'd by that hand, who would not tremble too ? Here Love takes stand, and, while the charms the ear, Empties his quiver on the listening deer : Music so softens and difarms the mind, That not an arrow does resistance find. G 2
Thus the fair tyrant celebrates the prize,
To a Lady singing a Song of his composing. CHLORIS, yourself you fo excel,
, 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 soar so high.
Had Echo with so sweet a grace
Narcissus' loud complaints return’d, Not for reflection of his face,
But of his voice, the boy had burn'd.
OF MRS. ARDEN.
, and liften
Breaks in sweet sounds the willing air:
So, when a flash of lightning falls
For human aid ; which hopes the flame
Of the MARRIAGE of the DWARFS.
Thrice happy is that humble pair,
To him the fairelt nymphs do show
Ah, Chloris! that kind nature thus
LOVE'S FAREWELL, *READING the path to nobler ends,
A long farewell to love I gave: Resolv'd my country, and my friends,
All that remain'd of me should have. And this resolve no mortal dame,
None but those eyes, could have o’erthrown: The nymph I dare not, need not, name,
So high, so like herself alone.
Thus the tall oak, which now aspires
FROM A CHILD,
Makes it full summer ere the spring 's begun :