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cause_n death_n know_v life_n 2,879 5 4.5653 4 true
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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A04673 The affectionate shepheard Containing the complaint of Daphnis for the loue of Ganymede. Barnfield, Richard, 1574-1627. 1594 (1594) STC 1480; ESTC S114397 18,807 58

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blind-seeing Boy How canst thou hit their harts and yet not see If thou be blinde as thou art faind to bee A Shepheard loues no ill but onely thee He hath no care but onely by thy causing Why doost thou shoot thy cruell shasts at mee Giue me some respite some short time of pausing Still my sweet Loue with bitter lucke th' art sawcing Oh if thou hast a minde to shew thy might Kill mightie Kings and not a wretched wight Yet O Enthraller of infranchizd harts At my poore hart if thou wilt needs be ayming Doo me this fauour show me both thy Darts That I may chuse the best for my harts mayming A free consent is priuiledgd from blaming Then pierce his hard hart with thy golden Arrow That thou my wrong that he may rue my sorrow But let mee feele the force of thy lead Pyle What should I doo with loue when I am old I know not how to flatter fawne or smyle Then stay thy hand O cruell Bow-man hold For if thou strik'ft me with thy dart of gold I sweare to thee by Ioues immortall curse I haue more in my hart than in my purse The more I weepe the more he bends his Brow For in my hart a golden Shaft I finde Cruell vnkinde and wilt thou leaue me so Can no remorce nor pittie moue thy minde Is Mercie in the Heauens so hard to finde Oh then it is no meruaile that on earth Of kinde Remorce there is so great a dearth How happie were a harmles Shepheards life If he had neuer knowen what Loue did meane But now fond Loue in euery place is rife Staining the purest Soule with spots vncleane Making thicke purses thin fat bodies leane Loue is a fiend a fire a heauen a hell Where pleasure paine and sad repentance dwell There are so manie Danaes now a dayes That loue for lucre paine for gaine is sold No true affection can their fancie please Except it be a Ioue to raine downe gold Into their laps which they wyde open hold If legempone comes he is receau'd When Uix haud habeo is of hope bereau'd Thus haue I showed in my Countrey vaine The sweet Content that Shepheards still inioy The mickle pleasure and the little paine That euer doth awayte the Shepheards Boy His hart is neuer troubled with annoy He is a King for he commaunds his Sheepe He knowes no woe for he doth seldome weepe He is a Courtier for he courts his Loue He is a Scholler for he sings sweet Ditties He is a Souldier for he wounds doth proue He is the same of Townes the shame of Citties He scornes false Fortune but true Vertue pitties He is a Gentleman because his nature Is kinde and affable to euerie Creature Who would not then a simple Shepheard bee Rather than be a mightie Monarch made Since he inioyes such perfect libertie As neuer can decay nor neuer fade He seldome sits in dolefull Cypresse shade But liues in hope in ioy in peace in blisse Ioying all ioy with this content of his But now good-fortune lands my little Boate Vpon the shoare of his desired rest Now must I leaue awhile my rurall noate To thinke on him whom my soule loueth best He that can make the most vnhappie blest In whose sweete lap I le lay me downe to sleepe And neuer wake till Marble-stones shall weepe FINIS SONNET Loe here behold these tributarie Teares Paid to thy faire but cruell tyrant Eyes Loe here the blossome of my youthfull yeares Nipt with the fresh of thy Wraths winter dyes Here on Loues Altar I doo offer vp This burning hart for my Soules sacrifice Here I receaue this deadly-poysned Cu Of Circe charm'd wherein deepe Magickelyes Then Teares if you be happie Teares indeed And Hart if thou be lodged in his brest And Cup if thou canst helpe despaire with speed Teares Hart and Cup conioyne to make me blest Teares moue Hart win Cup cause ruth loue desire In word in deed by moane by zeale by fire FINIS THE COMPLAINT OF CHASTITIE Briefely touching the cause of the death of Matilda Fitzwalters an English Ladie sometime loued of King Iohn after poysoned The Storie is at large written by Michael Dreyton YOV modest Dames inricht with Chastitie Maske your bright eyes with Vestaes sable Vaile Since few are left so faire or chast as shee Matter for me to weepe you to bewaile For manie seeming so of Vertue faile Whose louely Cheeks with rare vermilion tainted Can neuer blush because their faire is painted O faire-foule Tincture staine of Woman-kinde Mother of Mischiefe Daughter of Deceate False traitor to the Soule blot to the Minde Vsurping Tyrant of true Beauties seate Right Cousner of the eye lewd Follies baite The flag of filthines the sinke of shame The Diuells dye dishonour of thy name Monster of Art Bastard of bad Desier Il-worshipt Idoll false Imagerie Ensigne of Vice to thine owne selfe a lier Silent Inchaunter mindes Anatomie Sly Bawd to Lust Pandor to Infamie Slaunder of Truth Truth of Difsimulation Staining our Clymate more than anie Nation What shall I say to thee thou scorne of Nature Blacke spot of sinne vylde lure of lecherie Iniurious Blame to euerie faemale creature Wronger of time Broker of trecherie Trap of greene youth false Womens witcherie Hand-maid of pride high-way to wickednesse Yet path-way to Repentance nerethelesse Thou dost entice the minde to dooing euill Thou setst dissention twixt the man and wife A Saint in show and yet indeed a deuill Thou art the cause of euerie common strife Thou art the life of Death the death of Life Thou doost betray thy selfe to Infamie When thou art once discerned by the eye Ah little knew Matilda of thy being Those Times were pure from all impure complection Then Loue came of Desert Desire of seeing Then Vertue was the mother of Affection But Beautie now is vnder no subiection Then women were the same that men did deeme But now they are the same they doo not seeme What faemale now intreated of a King With gold and iewels pearles and precious stones Would willingly refuse so sweete a thing Onely for a little show of Vertue ones Women haue kindnes grafted in their bones Gold is a deepe-perswading Orator Especially where few the fault abhor But yet shee rather deadly poyson chose Oh cruell Bane of most accursed Clime Than staine that milke-white Mayden-virgin Rose Which shee had kept vnspotted till that time And not corrupted with this earthly slime Her soule shall liue inclosd eternally In that pure shrine of Immortality This is my Doome and this shall come to passe For what are Pleasures but still-vading ioyes Fading as flowers brittle as a glasse Or Potters Clay crost with the least annoyes All things in this life are but trifling Toyes But Fame and Vertue neuer shall decay For Fame is Toomblesse Vertue liues for aye FINIS Hellens Rape OR A light Lanthorne for light Ladies Written in English Hexameters LOuely a Lasse so loue da Lasse