To get a Love and Beauty so divine,
(In these so wary times) the fact must be
Of greater fortunes to the world than mine;
Those are the steps to that felicity;
For love no other gate hath than the eyes,
And inward worth is now esteem'd as none;
Mere outsides only to that blessing rise,
Which Truth and Love did once account their own;
Yet as she wants her fairer, she may miss
The common cause of love, and be as free
From earth, as her composure heavenly is;
If not, I restless rest in misery,
And daily wish, to keep me from despair,

AIR.

HE.

A RISE , my fair! the doors unfold,
Receive me shivering with the cold.

RECITATIVE.

S HE. My heart amidst my slumbers wakes
And tells me my beloved speaks.

AIR.

H E. Arise, my fair! the doors unfold,
Receive me shivering with the cold;
The chill drops hang upon my head,

Oh Love! Thou art the sovereign good
To man! We mean not here t'allude,
By love, to amorous wiles,
We mean by love, that plastic will,
By which a human being still
With other's interest his own beguiles.

It is a fact: we know not why
A fact, but most assuredly
One that experience proves,
Where sensibility doth 'bide
(To passion, that, we mean, allied)
Seldom benevolence doth fix her loves.

Those who require love's genial heat
To cause their pulse with health to beat,
By dire fatality,
These, these will be the reprobates
On whom thy retribution waits,
For every hour of past felicity.

The windy hours through darkness fly—
CansThear them, little heart?
New loves are born, and old loves die,
And kissing lips must part.
The dusky bees of passing years—
Canst see them, soul of mine—
From flower and flower supping tears,
And pale sweet honey wine?

O flame that treads the marsh of time,
Flitting for ever low,
Where, through the black enchanted slime,
We, desperate, following go—
Untimely fire, we bid thee stay!
Into dark air above,
The golden gipsy thins away—
So has it been with love!

All round my that I wore a green ribbon,
All round my hat I wore a green ribbon,
All round my hat for a year and a day;
And if any one asks me the reason I wore it
I'll say that my true love went over the sea!

All in my hat I will stick a blue feather
The same as the birds do be up in the tree;
And if you would ask me the reason I do it
I'll tell you my true love is come back to me!

The third daies worke.

O Loue that liuest in that only light,
Which giues all seeing to all gratious Eies:
But keepest thy sence fro that vngodly sight,
That in the darknes of illusion dies:
Lighten my soule that it may cleerely see
How thou in Wisedome Wisedome liues in thee.

The Angels can in their Attonements tell,
How kindly thou do'st make them liue together:
And where the Saints and holy Martirs dwell
The holy Muses bring their Musique thither:
And while the Hoast of all the Heauens reioyce,

C ORINNA , in the bloom of youth,
Was coy to every lover;
Regardless of the tenderest truth,
No soft complaints could move her:
Mankind was hers, and at her feet
Lay prostrate and adoring,
The witty, valiant, rich and great
Alike in vain imploring.

But now grown old she would repair
The loss of time and pleasure;
With willing looks, and wanton air,
Inviting every gazer.

But love's a summer flower, that dies
With the first weather's changing.
The lover, like the swallow, flies
From sun to sun still ranging.

When Sylvia is kind, and Love plays in her eyes,
I think 'tis no morning till Sylvia does rise;
Of Sylvia the hills and the valleys all ring,
Her beauty's the subject each shepherd does sing:
But, if she proves cruel, how little will move
Those charms which inspired us with raptures of love?
Thy rigour, dear Sylvia, will shorten thy reign,
And make our bright goddess a mortal again.

Love heightens our joys; he's the ease of our care;
Inspires the valiant and crowns all the Fair:
O seize his soft wings then before 'tis too late,