PEACE, BABBLING MUSE! 1 PEACE, babbling Muse! I dare not sing what you indite; To read the passion which they write. Than the poor wretch that feigns him dead, CHLORIS! FAREWELL. 1 CHLORIS! farewell. I now must go; For if with thee I longer stay, I shall prove blind, and lose my way. 2 Fame of thy beauty, and thy youth, Among the rest, me hither brought; Finding this fame fall short of truth, Made me stay longer than I thought. 3 For I'm engaged by word and oath, 4 But what assurance can I take, When thou, foreknowing this abuse, 5 For thou mayst say, 'twas not thy fault That thou didst thus inconstant prove; Being by my example taught To break thy oath, to mend thy love. 6 No, Chloris! no: I will return, And raise thy story to that height, That strangers shall at distance burn, And she distrust me reprobate. 7 Then shall my love this doubt displace, TO FLAVIA. 1 'Tis not your beauty can engage The sun, in all his pride and rage, And yet he shines as bright as you, 2 'Tis not the pretty things you say, Nor those you write, Which can make Thyrsis' heart your prey; For that delight, L The graces of a well-taught mind, 3 No, Flavia! 'tis your love I fear; Those which so seldom fail him, are Their very shadows make us yield; BEHOLD THE BRAND OF BEAUTY TOSS'D! 1 BEHOLD the brand of beauty toss'd! See how the motion does dilate the flame! Delighted Love his spoils does boast, And triumph in this game. Fire, to no place confined, Is both our wonder and our fear; Moving the mind, As lightning hurled through the air. 2 High heaven the glory does increase Joys with the moon to play; To the sweet strains they advance, Which do result from their own spheres, Moves with the numbers which she hears. WHILE I LISTEN TO THY VOICE. 1 WHILE I listen to thy voice, Chloris! I feel my life decay; Calls my fleeting soul away. 2 Peace, Chloris! peace! or singing die, To heaven may go; For all we know Of what the blessed do above, Is, that they sing, and that they love. GO, LOVELY ROSE! 1 Go, lovely Rose! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. 2 Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That hadst thou sprung In deserts, where no men abide, 3 Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired; Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, 4 Then die! that she The common fate of all things rare How small a part of time they share SUNG BY MRS KNIGHT TO HER MAJESTY, ON HER BIRTHDAY. THIS happy day two lights are seen, Of your bless'd life among us here! An hundred times may you, 'Matchless queen': Queen Catherine was born on the day set apart in the calendar for the commemoration of the martyrdom of St Catherine. |