Disdainfully delivering thus her words, I yet a novice in my new learn'd art, My tears which trickling from mine eyes did go; I flamed, I froze, in love, in cold disdain; Her frown did kill, her smile again revived. While death I wish'd, life then refused to leave me; Live while I would, death they propon'd to reave me. While in this weak estate, all means I sought To be avenged on him, whose shafts did grieve me; Alas! a faint pursuit-I further'd nought, For he, now Cupid, now a sprite, did leave me;— Thus metamorphos'd, fled away for aid In beauty's lips, where I durst naught invade. Then favour begg'd; pity moved her consent,- His bold attempts, entreating him to yield: ROWALLAN S POEMS. Afraid, he fled then in her eyes to hide him; Stay, fond wretch, stay; thus I begun to chide him; So, as by thee our lips else are united, Our hearts, also, to join may be invited. But nothing could the cruel spider move, The more she did perceive increase my pain, What then, shall I leave off my hope to speed, And live no more cross'd with consuming care? Content I am, and so my faith deservest, 115 W. MUIRE-1611. TO THE MOST HOPEFUL AND HIGH-BORN PRINCE, CHARLES, PRINCE OF WALES. [CHARLES I.] MATCHLESS Montgomery in his native tongue, LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF My muse, which nought doth challenge worthy fame, By right hereditar to serve thy grace: When thy ancestors' passions I have shown, The most unworthy of your Highnesses vassals-S. W. M. SIX LINES UPON THE FALL OF SOMERSET. EACH man with silence stops his mouth, and hears Since malice thirsts for brave Ephestion's blood, 1616. 1 i. e. without: we have invariably retained the word, where it occurs in this sense. ROWALLAN'S POEMS. 117 SIX LINES SENT TO ME BY MY COUSIN, MR. W. MUIR. ARE lofty Parnassus' sacred shades disdain'd, A REPROACH TO THE PRATTLER. ENVIOUS wretch! on earth the most ingrate, Doth suffer torture on the restless wheel Justly from all felicity deposed, Juno's discredit who did not conceal. And if Acteon Cynthia's ire did feel, Turn'd in a hart-thus for a view revenged- Finis-1614. "CHAUNSOUNE." CALLING to mind the heavenly feature, Oft am I forced, Although divorced From presence of my dearest's eyes, The too slow day, To steal away Admiring her, my smart who sees. Although she, ruthless she, doth know The tears which from mine eyes down Yet she, alace! Cares not my case; goes No spates of tears her heart can move: She knows my pain, Yet doth disdain; But, woe's me, I must still her love. Though by mine eyes I should distil And quite dissolve in tears my heart, Than any joy to me impart. |