Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
cause_n	body_n	life_n	live_v	1,552	5	5.7392	4	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A13797	Alba The months minde of a melancholy louer, diuided into three parts: by R.T. Gentleman. Hereunto is added a most excellent pathetical and passionate letter, sent by Duke D'Epernoun, vnto the late French King, Henry the 3. of that name, when he was commanded from the court, and from his royall companie. Translated into English by the foresaid author.	Tofte, Robert, 1561-1620.; Epernon, Jean-Louis de Nogaret de La Valette, duc d', 1554-1642.	1598 (1598)	STC 24096; ESTC S111433	52,678	150

ride Creator of all Creatures that do liue Whose Loue was such as thou for Man hast dide Though he thee hated skorned and did grieue Vouchsafe to view and rue my desprate state And me once more from sinne regenerate Ah looke vpon me with milde Mercies eye Clense me with purest Water of thy Grace Remember not how I haue gone awry Since I renounce to runne more such a Race Ah glorious Spouse thy Beautie I desire For now to He●uen not Earth my Thoughts aspire Griefe that was once farre off remou'd from me Begins as now for to approach me nere Clad in his Weedes which Black and fearf●ll be And crownde with fatall Cypresse doth appeare With wringing Hands he doth bewaile my ruth And mournes that I haue straide so wide frō Truth Reason the Cochman to my wandring Thought As in a Christall glasse doth shew most plaine My gazing eyes how I haue fondly wrought Spending my Time in Toyes and Fancies vaine He shew'th me now another Nouell LOVE Another path wherein my feete to moue As One who in his Trauaile doth espie By chance a hideous Serpent or foule Snake That long before vnseene did closely lie Behinde some stub where he his Nest did make Shaking his three-forkt hissing tongue apace Quickly himselfe retireth from that place So I by louing wrong vnhappie Wight Hauing amisse straide long time and awrie When I at last of Death had but a sight Although farre off yet backward gan I hie Backward I came with hastie speedie foote Leauing that Course which I at first had tooke Thou w●ndring Spirit to whom Ioue doth commit Of this my Body fraile the gouernment Why gadding thus from Truth so farre dost flit Why are thine eyes with wilfull blindnes pent Why dost not marke what Danger is at hand What damned Death doth at thine elbow stand Ah be not flattred with this poysenous LOVE But call thy former Wits to thee againe Those wicked Thoughts roote out and hence remoue Whilst Life in thee to do it doth remaine What Mortall is by mortall Death suppresse Thy Gaine shall be the more thy Losse the lesse Heauen once thy Mansion was and dwelling place Now Hell thou seekst by running thus astray Vnhappie Soule to be in such a case So wilfully to seeke thine owne Decay Thou woundst thy selfe to God a Rebbell th' art And only striu'st to please the World in Hart. Alas in whom now dost thou put thy trust On whom dost thou relie or hope on now Ah turne and still liue shalt thou with the Iust Ah turne againe and trebble blessed thou Thou then shalt be whereas the Blessed are Pure Soule mongst Soules mongst Stars a brightsome Starre What 's God The Sourse of Goodnes and the Sprin● What is that Goodnes Such a Goodnes sound As aye increaseth without perishing How is it made In frame and fashion Round Like to a Forme that in it doth containe His End and his Beginning in the same This Goodnes first from whence did it proceede Three proper Veines there be that forth do runne Out of one sacred Sea from Heauen decreede Which co●passe doth All what so ere sees Sunne Cannot we see it This ESSENCE most Diuine No Mortall Man hath seene at any time How can it then be if it neere be seene That i● our mindes oft lifteth vp on High As if in Vision we in Heauen had beene It makes vs view such Wonders with Faiths eye With Faith● cleere eye which shines to vs so bright As vnto Heauen it is our Guide and Light What is that Faith A Gift which if Defect In him that firme beleeueth be not found It blindfold leades him yet with steps direct Vnto that place where perfect Ioyes abound Where God the Father Sonne and Holy Ghost Doe raigne in Glorie great of Mightiest most Thou LIFE which Life art calde and yet art Death Thou DEATH which Death art termde and yet art Life Say which of you maintaine my v●tall breath Within thi● wretched Vale of Worldly strife Say which prolongs my Life most of you Twaine Or thou LIFE or thou DEATH say both the same I more then LIFE straight DEATH doth answer make Nay I quoth LIFE farre more then DEATH to me And for this Cause this only Name I take Of LIFE which by my meanes alone can be Because whilst I within thy Body liue Death no way can thee hinder hurt or grieue But I by cutting off DEATH straight replies This slender Thred whereby Men runne their race Bring euery Faithfull soule in friendly wise Where he a better path for aye may trace Making him leade a Life eternallie A LIFE that still doth liue and neuer die Wherefore what ere he be that meanes to ioy This other LIFE that is Celestiall He mu●● not scorne to scape from worlds annoy Nor thinke it much to come when DEATH shall call For DEATH no● LIFE doth help vs at the end LIFE is our Foe but DEATH our dearest Friend All fraile most happie Day in blessed wise A Day of Griefe yet Honorable Day In which the Father did for Sacrifise Offer his Sonne to saue Man from decay Clensing our Soules defilde with sinfull mind With Innocent with pure and pretious Blood Vpon that Crosse now sacred then Prophane He ●ide for vs who could not dye indeede Whilst closing his fayre eyes for Mortals gaine He opened all the Gates of Heauen with speede Restoring them that Kingdome we had lost VVhich nothing Vs but Him too dearly cost Not his but our Due was it for to Die Those Torments which he meekly did endure His Crowne of Thornes his Wounds done spitefully That Cursed Scourge that spilt his Blood so pure All these to Vs and not to him did long Yet for our sakes our Christ himselfe did wrong Then if for pitie Graues do open wide Hils cleaue and Marble pillars rent in twaine If Heauens themselues their Lights for griefe do hide And if the Sunne for sorow clipst remaine VVhat Mortall hart is there that doth not breake VVhen he but thinks or of this Day doth speake That Vertue through whose power rulde is my soule Only through Vertuous Loue from Loue set free Takes force afresh as one that would controule And finding strong himselfe within to bee Vnbridled Will he seekes to bridle now And tries to breake what fore he scarce could bow New Lords new Lawes New Customes breake the Olde And where before a dark and mistie clowde My minde as in a prison did infolde Now is it loosde from out that gloomie shrowde My Hart doth iump euen iust with his desire And by their Eye know both what to require My watchfull Soule recouered hath well nie The former state in which he liued in And being free doth call to memorie VVhat bound he did forget through wretched sin VVhil●● for his life repentant he attends Immortally to liue for his amends Not any part there is of Bodie mine But filled is with true not false Delight Yet doth it grieue

Deare ALBA then accept this Sacrifice These dutious Teares the Tribute of mine eyes Thinke how perplext fore PICTVRE thine I stand Thinke of the depth of my sad Passion How I haue alwaies bin at thy command How none but thee my thoughts still muse vpon Thinke how I euer tendred thy Good na●● Conseruing with my dearest Blood the same 〈◊〉 how I still of thee had due respect 〈◊〉 thou at all times ●idst me vse too hard 〈…〉 withouten cause thou didst reiect 〈…〉 meaning too too meane reward 〈◊〉 ●hese wrongs which I endured haue 〈◊〉 ●emember me Nought els I craue Troino●an● Since spightfull Fortune sore against my will Hath drawne me farre from place where thou dost liue And that of force I must obey her still Although to liue so doth me deadly grieue Yet though my Bodie is farre off MY HART Is still with thee from whence is nere shall part Only of thee sweete Ladie this I craue That till our thred of life shall be vnspun Thou wilt vouchsafe me in thy minde to haue And not forget the Loue twixt vs begun But in thy Hart the same for to repose As I the like in inward soule doe close This only can still me in life conserue Thy gracious Fauour and thy Pitie sweete This is the pretious Balme the pure Preserue Which I doe hope to finde and still will seeke This makes me liue although with great vnrest Since of thy selfe I haue bin dispossest Thou art my Hope my Hauen my Comfort chiefe On thee alone on none el● I relie Only to thee I come to begge reliefe In thee it is if I shall liue or die DEAREST remember t is a Gift more rare CONSTANT to be then to be counted FAIRE Two sparkling stars fine golde pure Ebonie From whence Loue takes his Brands his Shafts Bow Two daintie Apples which though hid from eye Through vaile of Lawne through lawne more faire do show A cherrie lip with Iuo●ie teeth most white Where Cupid begs within that Grate so bright Vermilion Flowers that grow in Heauen aboue Snow which no wet can marre nor Sunne can melt Right Margarite Pearle which alwaies Orient proue A Voyce that Hart of marble makes to swelt A Smile that calmes the raging of the Sea And Skie more cleere makes then was wont to bee Graue staied wisedome in yong and tender yeares A stately Gate and Port maiesticall A Carriage where in vertue borne appeares Lookes that disdaine and yet delight withall Numbers of Fauours Beauties infinite With Modestie chaste pure and milde Deligh● An humble Soule within a Bodie rich A lowly Thought within a conquering Hart These are the workes which I commend so mich Which Heauens LOVE haue framde by curious Art All these I once enioyde but they being gone My Note is changde my Mirth is turnde to Mone Ah might I once perswaded be at last These skalding sighs of mine should haue an end That I for Sower some Sweet at length might taste And that the CRVEL FAIRE would not contend Euer gainst me I then would gently take And suffer all these wrongs for her sweete sake Too well I know and I confesse the same That too too loftie is my proud Desire My soaring Thoughts deseruing mickle blame And I ore bold presume too high t' aspire Yet still me thinkes mine Ayme being not base I should deserue some little tynie Grace Say then sweete LOVE for thou with ALBA mine Dost soiorne wheresoeuer she doth bide Say am I like that to obtaine in time From which I now am so farre off and wide Ah say the truth doth she once thinke on me Doth she but wish that I with her might be Ah had not Reason my Desires refrainde I had my Thoughts deare Soueraigne seene ere this Whose Grace I sought but bootles to haue gainde The only ioy I in this world would wish Rather would I see those chaste beautious Eyes Then chuse to be in matchlesse Paradise As Christall Glasse in which the Sunne doth shine I like mine ALBAS Angels heauenly feature But when she deadly wounds this Cor●e of mine I lothe her more then any murthring Creature More then a Theefe that robs and stealeth pelfe I hate her when she steales me from my selfe My hart is grieu'd cause it doth disagree For whilst my Minde to loue her doth deuise And thinks her worthie honored for to bee A Sdainfull thought through Hatred doth arise Which skornes that one so Rich a Theefe shuld proue That one so Faire a Murtheresse is in loue I know not what to seeke nor what I should Yet haue I sought till I haue lost my sense Although truth to confesse faine loue I would And yet not die for this too Cruell wench Betwixt these two fain would I find a Meane Alas Women haue none they alwaies keepe ●h'extreme Then how for me i ft possible to loue If my best ALBA once from me be tooke How shall I liue when thousand Deaths I proue When not this one the least I scarce can brooke Ah woe is me a double mixt Desire To haste my Death the sooner doth conspire Such is the rare perfection of sweete Beautie Of my faire ALBA my sole choise Delight That if that any PAINTER doth his dutie To shadow forth her Luster passing bright He loseth both his labour and his time As one ore bold so high a step to clime For whilst he giues his minde attentiuely And studieth to match Nature with his Art Marking her Feature with a watchfull eye To portray forth most liuely euery part Such brightnes comes from her such glistring rayes As he 's struck blinde and darkned goes his wayes This is the cause that who in hand doth take In curious wise her pearlesse Counterfate Hoping himselfe immortall so to make Doth fall into like dangerous estate Thinking to shadow her he shadowed is And so his eyes and purpose he doth misse That she were drawne in midst of Hart it were Far better and my selfe haue plaste her so For though in darke she hidden doth appeere Yet vnto me she faire and bright doth show My Hart 's the Boord where limnde you may her see My Teares the Oyle my Blood the Colours bee Fano Bright were the Heauens and husht was euery winde Cleere was the day when as mine ALBA faire Brought forth with ioy Lucina being kinde A daintie Babe for feature passing rare Adorning all the world with this glad welth A gift t' enrich the World Vs and her self What time she was in trauell of this Childe No thunder lightning nor no storme was heard But all was quiet peacefull calme and milde As if the skies t' offend her were afeard Whilst th' earth attended on her and the Sea As though they staid at her command to be Then did the Windes not vsing so before A gentle gale blow calmely euery where And fild the blisfull Aire with sweetes great store Each bird and fowle shewing a merry cheere Whilst that blest Day

plaine That opens wide the path of proud Disdaine If so why shouldst thou beg in vaine for grace Rather demaund thy pasport and away Better at first giue ore in midst of Race Then lose in th' end though longer time thou stay Then if she 'le not admit thee as a frend Let her thee manum it as Free to wend. O that I were where bides mine ALBA faire VVhose person to possesse is pleasure such As driues away all melancholy Care Which doth the Hart through Griefs impression touch Whose louely Locks All do more curious deeme When they most careles to be dressed seeme Her sweet Lookes most alluring be when they Most chaste do seeme in modest glancing show Her words the more they vertuously do way The more in coun● for amorous they go Her dressings such as when neglected most She 's thought as then to haue bestowd most cost Sweet Fortune when I meet my louely Treasure Dash my Delights with some small light disgrace Lest I enioying sweetnes boue all measure Surfet without recure on that faire face Her wonted coynesse let her vse a while My fierce Desire by Diet to beguile Lest with the fulnes of my ioyes abate The sweetnes and I perish straight before I do possesse them at too deare a rate But soft Fond Icarus how high wilt soare Thou dreamst I think or foulie dost mistake I dreame indeed Ah might I neuer wake Like as the Hawke cast from the Faulkners fist Freed from the Mew doth ioyfull take his flight Soaring aloft in th' aire as best him list Now here now there doth finde no small delight Enioying that which Treasures all doth passe His libertie wherefore he prisoner was But when th'acquainted Hollow he doth heare And seeth the Lure cast forth him home to traine As one obedient full of awfull feare He leaues his flight and backward turnes againe Chusing in ancient bonds for to be bound Fore faithles to his Lord he will be found So ALBA though I wanton otherwhile Do runne abrode and other Ladies court Seeking the time with pleasures to beguile And oft my selfe with words of course do sport Dissem●●●ng with Dissemblers cunninglie As is the guise with tongue with hand and Eye Yet when I thinke vpon thy face diuine Thy Beautie cals me home straight as a Lure All other banishing from Hart of mine And in LOVES Bands to thee doth binde me sure And since my Faith and Fates do so ordaine I am content thy prisoner to remaine Where are those Haires so louely Browne in show Where is that snowy Mount of Iuorie white With damaske Rose where do the Lillies grow Whose Colours whose sweetnes All delight Where are those cheerfull Lights Lamps of cleere Loue Wherein a beautious Heauen doth alwaies moue Where are those Margarite Pearles withouten prise And Rubies rich my matchles Treasures store With other Graces wonders to the Wise Worthy that euery Lawrell them adore I know not I vnles in her they be In Her who 's Faire Alas too Faire for me VVhy haue not then my Stars so courteous bin In this to me as they are in the rest That I by loftie stile might Beautie win And blaze abrode her praise deseruing best VVhy haue not I the Gift her Gifts to th●nder And make the world thereat admire and wonder Could I but as she doth deserue aright Sing as a Cignet sweete with pleasing vaine Her Vertues rare her staining Beauties sight As I am blunt in Wit and dull in Braine I then should see her Courteous Gentle Milde VVhere now I finde her Cruell Proud and Wilde Needes must I ALBA leaue yet she 'le not part Though I doe loue her yet still my Desire Seekes her to keepe in Closet of my Hart And though she doth against me thus conspire Yet with my Soule I must her Error moane Since so vnkindelie she her selfe hath showne My secret griefes I le in my selfe disiest The world shall neuer know her hatefull Pride Her shame my Bane I will conceale in brest And as a Monument there shall it bide ALBA farewell all pittie now is fled And since t is so Adew I am but Dead But thou my Hart come thou from her thy way T is time I thinke to leaue that witching face Where too too much vnkindenes still doth stay For Loyall Loue there is no resting place Simple ●●odwill to so●ourne findes it vaine Where Thoughts are falls and Double do remaine My nere stainde Faith my life shall testifie To future Age that shall hereafter come To shew the world my spotles Loyaltie And yet perhaps againe may shine the Sunne When as my Trueth vnto her being knowne She may at last receiue me for her owne The Conclusion of the second Part. IF I should count the spending of my time Since Her I lost with whom I left my life How I in Griefe without reliefe doe pine My seldome Pleasures and my Corsies rife If I should take vpon me these to tell It were in vaine for t' were impossibell Yet still the more I suffer for her sake The more my Hart doth studie to endure The world shall know the Pennance he doth make And how his Thoughts are loyall chaste and pure So small account he maketh for to die At his owne Death he seeketh wilfully Of Her he still doth buzze me in the eare And wil● me make a Iournie to that place To haue a sight of Her to him so deare Whose beautious shape all Beauties doth disgrace Alas I would full faine Her selfe doth know But Danger to offend doth still say No. Then since poore Hart thou canst not haue thy will But longst ●or what thou neuer shalt obtaine Consume t●y selfe with thy recureles ill As Women that with Longing breede their ban● And as thou diest let this thy Comfort be Thy LOVE was VERTVE hers was CHASTITIE R.T. THE THIRD PART OF THE MONETHS MIND OF A MELANCHOLY LOVER By R. T. Gentleman AT LONDON Printed by Felix Kingston for Matthew Lownes 1598. Alla Crudelissima LO here the course spun Web of Discontent Extract from out the cause of my trew Griefe The Quintesence of my Complaint close pent Wherein my Hart hath line without reliefe The Glasse wherein my sorrowes each may see Thou cruell ALBA thus haste plagued me Thinke on the Mestfull MONTHS MINDE I still keepe Depriude of thee how I doe liue forlorne All night I sigh all day I waile and weepe As one that hath all pleasures quite forsworne Thus ca●efull I doe care for careles thee Whilst wretchles thou makst no account of mee Knewst thou what t' were to Loue and what to hate I know with Malice thine thou wouldst dispence And wouldst enhaunce my Bale to blissefull state And Loue with Loue not Rigor recompence Ah gainst me doe not thou thy wrath incite Monstrous it is Loue to repay●e with spite Be gracious then though I haue graceles bin Let Fauour thine aboue my Merit show Against the Tide why shouldst thou

doe Nor Loue obtaine in vaine t is then to sue Deare to my Soule for Deare I may thee call Since thou farre dearer then my selfe I holde When wilt thou rid me from this loathed thrall In which I am through Fancies bandes enrold When wilt thou keepe thy promise vnto mee Whereof no deedes but words I yet can see Why doubtfull still doest thou my ioyes prolong And driuste me of in dalliance without cause Me and thy selfe why doest thou double wrong To keepe thy word why so long doest thou pause Thus for to lo●e thy golden ●ime t is sin Which once being past againe thou canst not win Matters of state we vse to politize Procrastinating for aduantage great LOVE lingring hates and lothes to temporize Delaie's too ●olde for his orewarmed heate Ah doe not driue me of thus still in vaine Still for to lose t is much once let me gaine Dearer to me then th'apple of mine eyes Let word and deede but once for all agree Not any can in face thee equalize If but a little more thou kinde wouldst be Then with allusiue Sightes feede not me still But graunt at last for to performe my will Ye luke warme Teares which from my nere dride eyes Streame downe amaine like fountaines day and night Wende to my Lady in most humble wise And shew to her my most vnhappie plight Wende vnto her who outwardly in shew Seemes pittifull but inward is not so Weepe you ●o her and say I st possible A Creature that so courteous seemes to all Shoulde haue a hart more cruell and more fell Then Tiger harder then a stony wall Ah why seemes she not inwardly as kinde As she doth outward shew the world to blinde This my Icarian soaring boue my reach Though Beautie serenising fals my Hart How I ore bolde my headlong fall doth teach Whilest LOVE doth play gainst me a subtile part Yet Beauties Birth I am by her I breath Though liue against her fauour and her leaue Wilde fire with milke is quencht rigor with teares Yet naught her stubborne minde can mollifie Vnto my prayers she stops her deafened eares And with Despayre requites my Courtesie Thus am I still starre crossed in my Loue As one bewitcht with whom no good doth proue How long shall I diue in this vastie Sea To finde this Perle this Orient MARGARITE How long this bottome founding shall I be Yet nere attaine this precious Iewell bright My labors like to Hercules abound Who more he did the more to doe stil found I am too weake with Ospraies eyes to looke Against the fierie beames of this faire Sun Too great a Burthen haue I fondly tooke For my weake shoulders long since ouercome The more I seeke the farther I to finde Like to the wretch that of his sight is blinde My brused Bulwarke is not strong enough For to resist this beautious Batterie My yoke too small to draw so huge a plough Mine eyes too dimme such Brightnes to descries This sh●wes that as vnluckie I was borne To die vnfortunate I must not scorne Yet I le not leaue to intercessionate To her hard Breast for my too gentle Hart That if her Rigor she 'le not mitigate At least she 'le somewhat ease me of this Smart I onely craue if she 'le not yeelde reliefe T'adiourne my paine and to proroge my Griefe Thrise trebble blessed BRACELET rich in prise I enuie not thy perlie fret nor golde But fortune thine because in happie wise The place of perfect pleasure thou dost holde About that wrist thou turnst and windst so oft More white then Snow then thistle down more soft Base mindes loue Golde t is not thy Golde I steeme For this I onely value thee at much Because an Ornament th' art to be seene Of her white Hand yclept of right NONESVCH NONESVCH indeede whose Beautie is so rare As nere the like attainde the perfects Faire This is the cause so highlie I thee rate As all the golden Mines of Indian ground Nor Seas of Pearle can counteruaile thy state Wherein thou art this present to be found And if that trueth I shall confesse inde●●e The wealth of all the world thou dost exceede But when I marke how by strange cunning Art Faire louelie Haires with Pearle and Golde conioyne A pleasing ioy doth seaze vpon my Heart Whilest with strange pleasures Fancie feeds my mind So as sweete BRACELET thou dost rightly proue To be th' enchantment of bewitching LOVE Liue Louely Fame which when thou first didst take Possession of my Heart wert stony colde And bashfull but when entrance thou didst make Then as Triumphant thou didst keepe thy holde Changing both Thought state that where before Colde chillie Yee was hot Desire burnt sore If I thee honor worship serue and loue He knowes who guides the restles Globe on high But enuious Fates on me their force doe proue And me from thee haue banisht spitefully So that more paine I doe each houre abide Then if that thousands sorts of deaths I dide But fore that peereles matchles shape of thine The better part wherein my Soule doth rest Shall out of minde or memory of mine Whereby I only happy liue and blest All things shall chaunce impossible that be My selfe forget my selfe will I fore thee The Sunne shall lose his power and darke become The Skies shall melt and into horror fall The earth shall sinke the world be quite vndone And fore this chance all strange things happen shall Though now thou bidste in Albions fruitfull land And I where Mantuan Duke his Court doth stand Mantua Such as do liggen in Delight and ioy And haue what Hart can wish or Thought deuise Spending their time withouten dire Annoy Liuing amongst their friends in iocondwise And who with Loue of Ladies theirs are blest May in Eternam Requiem happie rest Me sillie Trauailer a pilgrim poore Who through hard hap these blessings all do misse Care doth become since want I do endure Of Countrie Friends and Loue my chiefest blisse And yet this CARE not Ill but well with mee Obseruing still Decorum doth agree A Trauailer farre from his Natiue coast With Care doth rise with Care him downe doth lay And though from piller tost he be to poste When All him leaue yet Care with him doth stay Not like vaine pleasure who away doth p●ake When he his Bark through want perceiues to leake Thanks then to Care of Poore the comfort chiefe The best companion that we Strangers finde In Countries strange forlorne without reliefe Who quiet gentle patient is and kinde Then constant CARE not Comfort I do craue And might I chuse I CARE with L. would haue This Tower this Castle this huge Prison strong Begirt with high and double fenced Wall Where I to be kept prisoner thus haue wrong Can neuer hurt nor do me harme at all Since I was pent here I am nothing changde But as before when I abrode still rangde This place restraines my Bodies libertie But

hath no power ouer my Thoughts or Minde VVhich is the cause I count my selfe most free Though I my selfe in greatest Bondage finde I can so feede on Fancie and subdue Enuie by sweet Imagination true No sweeter Musick to the Miserable Than is Despayre therefore the more I feele Of bitternes of sorrow sower and fell The more of Sweetnes it doth seeme to yeeld Vaine ' esteeme my life all libertie Since I do want mine ALBAS Companie Vse Miserie hath made familiar now VVith me that I count sorrow chiefest Ioy And him the welcomst Guest I do alow That saddest tales can tell of bloodiest Noy Then Cruell think what life I still haue led Since so in post away from me th' art fled Thrice precious purse by daintie Hand ywrought Of Beauties First Borne Fauours rightfull Heire Not for a world of wealth purchast or bought But freely giuen for Loue by ALBA faire Giuen to me vnworthie of the same As one not meriting so great a Gaine T is not the richnes hereof though t is much Nor rarenes of the worke surpassing skill That I account of though that it be such As euery eye with masement it doth fill But cause t' was made by that Alconquering Hand Whose becke euē Loues own self doth countermād Dan Fortunatus Bagge which Histories Affirme endles to be for golden store And that it helde of Quoyne Infinities To this my purse is needy base and poore Golde in the inside onely of his purse wa● seene But mine hath alwaies Golde without and 〈◊〉 Pure gold t is wrought with yet her Haires more bright Saft is the Silke more fast her snowie skinne Orient the Perle yet are her teeth more white The Culler● rare her cheekes the prise tho winne Ah precious Purse where what I doe beholde Are Cullours rare fine Perle saft Silke pure Golde Warme showers raine fast from forth my blubbred eyes My heauie Thoughts are Clowdes ●eplete with woes Hot liuely Flames from out my breast arise My skalding sighs the wind 's that forth them blowes Fire burning Cancer and Aquarius cold Ore me their powers predominant do hold The flames thems●lues vp to the heauens lift Where they by thousands round about doe turne The waters runne like to a Torrent swift Hence comes it that my selfe I drowne and burne By reason of two spitefull Qualities Moysture and Heate my life in danger lies My teares a great streame make they so abound A quenchles burning this my secret Fire Hope doth despaire and there her selfe hath drownde And Hart to cinders burnes through her Desire Fancie 〈◊〉 frolike and doth still reuiue Reason's so sick not long shee le keepe aliue ALBA my Teares accounteth as a Toy And for a sport mine ardent Heat she holds For in her eyes Cocitus me to noy And Phlegeton in breast she fierce enfolds Thus she my Hart doth still anatomise With keenest rasor of her Crueltise Haires louely Browne immur'd with pearle and gold How ill fits you this Ribbon Carnatine Since I no more your Mistris now behold Of my disaster most vnlucky signe Who to me gaue this Bracelet for a FAVOVR A work by Beautie framde through LOVES true labour How often would she bout my Wrist still prie And vnderminde me by deuise as t were Making a shew of Doubt and Ielousie As if I it forgot bout me to beare But now I feare me through her staying ore long Both LOVE Her self and Me she much doth wrong VVho euer saw a Beautie such so faire Lodgde in a subiect so vnconstant found VVho euer saw more loyall Louer rare To ●uch hard Fortune causeles to be bound Ah why is not as is her face her Minde Th'one's Faire the other I Forgetfull finde Then louely Haires my dearest Harts best Ease You must from Handwrist mine to Hatband black There must you bide though me it doth displease Since whom I would I most of all do lack This sable place doth fit you best to mourne Where you vnseene shall lie till she returne ●h happie Handkèrcher that keepst the signe As only Monument vnto my Fame How deare my Loue was to sweet ALBA mine VVhen so to shew my Loue she did me blame Relique of LOVE I do not enuie thee Though whom thy Master cannot thou dost see Only let me intreat this Fauour small VVhen in her chamber all alone by chance Open her pretie Casket for some work she shall And hap her eye on thee vnwares to glance Ah then the colour of her face but marke And thou by that shalt know her inward hart If she shall blush and grieue thee so to view And wistly cast on thee a piteous eye It is a signe her loue continues true And that her faith she doth not falsifie Ah the● a fresh her faith more firme to moue Bleed thou againe for to reuiue her Loue. But if she seeing thee no account doth make Flinging thee here and there without regard Know then expired is my louing Date My Hope deceiu'd my Fortune ouer hard Yet if she doth but sighing say to thee Saftly Farewell deare SERVANT happie mee Those ebbon windowes sweete those cheerfull eyes Where LOVE at LAVVGH and sweete looke on doth play Are on the sudden changde in strangie wise And do Disdaines Ensigne gainst me display Darke now they seeme and sower ore passing bad Making my life seeme to me black and sad Those cheerfull eyes which wont to comfort me And to mine hangrie soule yeeld nourishment Denie me food nor will they pleased be But mew me vp as starueling closely pent My walks I v●de which faire and easie were Are stopt with blood-drawing brābles euery where My crased hart thus skorned for his Loue And plagude with proud disdaine and sdainfull Pride Wa●les so as would a Rock though flintie moue Nor ●etter course hath this Disgrace to bide Then sighs and Teares which forth he se●ds apace And damned like still begs but nere finds grace Sweet stay of my weake tottring life nie falne ●alme to my wounds and Cordiall to my griefe ●●ght to my darknes to my storme milde Calme Ease to my paine and to my want Reliefe Ah who hath now and that so suddenly Of pitie thee depriu'd to make me die Poore wasted Hart that wandrest not astray Although the PEARLE her orient colour change Thou which in thy first Faith vnstaind dost stay Although she from her plighted vow doth range Ah where are now thy cheerfull daies of Hope Thy Liues line Loue what wretched hād hath broke Alas poore soule how badly art thou vsde For thy much louing louing ouer long Causeles without desert to be refusde And for thy right to be repaid with wrong Fond do betimes from Fancies Fort retire Reason retaine and banish rash Desire What meanst thou careles thus to seek thy Car● Call home thy Wits giue ore although with losse Els like one blindfold art thou caught in snare And wilt too late returne by weeping crosse Seest no● that shut is Loues sweet passage