Part 13 (1/2)

TO ROSES IN CASTARA'S BREAST.

Ye blus.h.i.+ng Virgins happy are In the chaste Nunn'ry of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, For he'd profane so chaste a fair, Whoe'er should call them Cupid's nests.

Transplanted thus how bright ye grow, How rich a perfume do ye yield?

In some close garden, cowslips so Are sweeter than in th' open field.

In those white Cloisters live secure From the rude blasts of wanton breath, Each hour more innocent and pure, Till you shall wither into death.

Then that which living gave you room, Your glorious sepulchre shall be; There wants no marble for a tomb, Whose breast hath marble been to me.

William Habington.

THOU PRETTY BIRD.

Thou pretty bird, how do I see Thy silly state and mine agree!

For thou a prisoner art; So is my heart.

Thou sing'st to her, and so do I address My music to her ear that's merciless; But herein doth the difference lie,-- That thou art graced; so am not I; Thou singing livest, and I must singing die.

John Danyel.

ONCE I LOV'D A MAIDEN FAIR.

Once I lov'd a maiden fair, But she did deceive me; She with Venus might compare, In my mind, believe me: She was young, and among All our maids the sweetest.

Now I say, ah! well-a-day!

Brightest hopes are fleetest.

I the wedding ring had got, Wedding clothes provided, Sure the church would bind a knot Ne'er to be divided: Married we straight must be, She her vows had plighted; Vows, alas! as frail as gla.s.s: All my hopes are blighted.

Maidens wav'ring and untrue, Many a heart have broken; Sweetest lips the world e'er knew, Falsest words have spoken.

Fare thee well, faithless girl, I'll not sorrow for thee; Once I held thee dear as pearl, Now I do abhor thee.

Temp. Jas. I. (condensed by T. Oxenford).

I PR'YTHEE SEND ME BACK MY HEART.

I pr'ythee send me back my heart, Since I cannot have thine; For if from yours you will not part, Why then shouldst thou have mine?

Yet now I think on't, let it lie; To find it were in vain, For thou'st a thief in either eye Would steal it back again.

Why should two hearts in one breast lie, And yet not lodge together?