There'll be a coat o'er the chair, There will be slippers for somebody; Love's fond embracement for somebody: Oh! but how blest will be somebody! CHARLES SWAIN TELL ME NOT, SWEET, I AM UNKIND. TELL me not, sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace I could not love you, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more. LOVELACE. LIKE THE VIOLET, WHICH ALONE. IKE the violet, which alone Prospers in some happy shade, My Castara lives unknown, For she's to herself untrue Such is her beauty, as no arts Have enrich'd with borrow'd grace; For a high birth no pride imparts, She her throne makes reason climb, And, each article of time, Her pure thoughts to heaven fly. All her vows religious be, And her love she vows to me. HABINGTON. THE GARDEN. THE bow'r of innocence and bliss Repent, and walk in faith and love, You'll find an Eden here. BISHOP HOrne. MONTROSE TO HIS LOVE. As Alexander I will reign, He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, That dares not put it to the touch But if thou wilt prove faithful then, Was never heard before; I'll crown and deck thee all with bays, And love thee more and more. MONTROSE. TO ALTHEA. HEN love with unconfinèd wings To whisper at the grates; The birds, that wanton in the air, When flowing cups run swiftly round With no allaying Thames, Our careless heads with roses bound, Our hearts with loyal flames; When thirsty grief in wine we steep, When healths and draughts go free, Fishes, that tipple in the deep, Know no such liberty. When-like committed linnets-I Stone walls do not a prison make, That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love, Angels alone that soar above Enjoy such liberty. LOVELACE. |