And not sufficed with this, she says,
I did release the right

Of my enjoyed liberties

Unto your beauteous sight.

Μ MY

From ROBERT JONES' Second Book of Songs and Airs, 1601.

Y love bound me with a kiss
That I should no longer stay;

When I felt so sweet a bliss

I had less power to part away: Alas, that women doth not know Kisses make men loath to go

Yes, she knows it but too well,

For I heard when Venus' dove

In her ear did softly tell

That kisses were the seals of love : O muse not then though it be so, Kisses make men loath to go.

Wherefore did she thus inflame
My desires heat my blood,
Instantly to quench the same

And starve whom she had given food?

I the common sense can show,

Kisses make men loath to go.

Had she bid me go at first

It would ne'er have grieved my heart,
Hope delayed had been the worst ;

But ah to kiss and then to part!
How deep it struck, speak, gods, you know
Kisses make men loath to go.

From ROBERT JONES' Second Book of Songs and Airs, 1601.

Y Love is neither young nor old,

M Not nor

Not fiery-hot nor frozen-cold,
But fresh and fair as springing briar
Blooming the fruit of love's desire;
Not snowy-white nor rosy-red,
But fair enough for shepherd's bed
And such a love was never seen
On hill or dale or country-green.

M

From WILLIAM BYRD'S Psalms,
Sonnets, and Songs, 1588.

Y mind to me a kingdom is :

Such perfect joy therein I find

That it excels all other bliss

That God or nature hath assigned.

Though much I want, that most would have,

Yet still my mind forbids to crave.

No princely port, nor wealthy store,
No force to win a victory,

No wily wit to salve a sore,

No shape to win a loving eye;

To none of these I yield as thrall!

For why? my mind despise them all.

I see that plenty surfeits oft,
And hasty climbers soonest fall;
I see that such as are aloft,
Mishap doth threaten most of all.
These get with toil, and keep with fear :
Such cares my mind can never bear.

I press to bear no haughty sway,
I wish no more than may suffice,
I do no more, than well I may;
Look, what I want, my mind supplies.
Lo, thus I triumph like a king,
My mind content with any thing.

I laugh not at another's loss,
Nor grudge not at another's gain.
No worldly waves my mind can toss,
I brook that is another's bane;
I fear no foe, nor fawn on friend,
I loathe not life nor dread mine end.

My wealth is health and perfect ease;
And conscience clear my chief defence;
I never seek by bribes to please,
Nor by desert to give offence,
Thus do I live, thus will I die :
Would all did so as well as I !

From JOHN MUNDY's Songs and
Psalms, 1594.

MY prime of youth is but a frost of cares!

My feast of joy is but a dish of pain !

My crop of corn is but a field of tares!
And all my good is but vain hope of gain !
My life is fled, and yet I saw no sun!
And now I live, and now my life is done!

The Spring is past, and yet it hath not sprung!
The fruit is dead, and yet the leaves be green!
My youth is gone, and yet I am but young!
I saw the World and yet I was not seen!
My thread is cut, and yet it is not spun !
And now I live, and now my life is done.

From CAMPION and ROSSETER'S
Book of Airs, 1601.

Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus.

Y sweetest Lesbia, let us live and love,

MAnd though the sager sort our deeds reprove

Let us not weigh them. Heaven's great lamps do dive
Into their west, and straight again revive;

But, soon as once is set our little light,
Then must we sleep one ever-during night.

If all would lead their lives in love like me,
Then bloody swords and armour should not be ;
No drum nor trumpet peaceful sleeps should move,
Unless alarm came from the Camp of Love:
But fools do live and waste their little light,
And seek with pain their ever-during night.

When timely death my life and fortunes ends,
Let not my hearse be vext with mourning friends;
But let all lovers, rich in triumph, come
And with sweet pastimes grace my happy tomb :
And, Lesbia, close up thou my little light

And crown with love my ever-during night.

From JOHN DOWLAND'S First
Book of Songs or Airs, 1597.

Y Thoughts are winged with Hopes, my Hopes

MY

with Love:

Mount Love unto the moon in clearest night,

And say, as she doth in the heavens move,
In earth so wanes and waxeth my delight:

And whisper this, but softly, in her ears,

"Hope oft doth hang the head and Trust shed tears."

And you, my Thoughts, that some mistrust do carry,
If for mistrust my mistress do you blame,
Say, though you alter, yet you do not vary,
As she doth change and yet remain the same;
Distrust doth enter hearts, but not infect,
And Love is sweetest seasoned with Suspect.

G