Selected quad for the lemma: england_n
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A93175
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Poems, &c. By James Shirley.
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Shirley, James, 1596-1666.
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1646
(1646)
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Wing S3481; Wing S3480; Wing S3488; Thomason E1149_3; Thomason E1149_4; Thomason E1149_5; ESTC R18545; ESTC R202316; ESTC R203565
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27,049
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94
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this nor those are half so rich so fair As these two silken Ribbands are Favours Juno might have given The Graces on her wedding day in heaven Mysterious Colours carrying more then show For you expresse in your rich dye Rare vertues which the givers owe Constant love and modesty To which when I prove false my blood be curst To satisfie the injur'd first Shame be next reward and then I forfeit Blush and Scarlet back agen To his Mistris upon the Bayes withered FAir Cruel see the Bayes which thou Didst send to crown my verse How well with Cypresse and sad Ewe Would it become my herse 'T is thy unkindnes that doth kill The leaves which fade like me Yet on the wreath but cast a smile 'T will seem another Tree Such shine will quicken what is dead Then send it me agen Which shall have vertue on my head To make the wearer green Thus in a frost I 'le meet a flame And Phoebus Priest am made And Thee I growing fresh will name My Nymph my light my shade Strephon Daphne S. COme my Daphne come away We do waste the Crystal day 'T is Strephon calls Da. What would my love S. Come follow to the Mirtle grove Where Venus shall prepare New chaplets for thy hair D. Were I shut up within a tree I de rend my bark to follow thee S My shepherdesse make haste The minutes slide too fast D. In those cooler shades will I Blind as Cupid kisse thine eye S. In thy perfumed bosome then I le stray In such warm snow who would not lose his way Chor. WEe 'l laugh and leave this world behind And gods themselves that see Shall envie thee and me But never find Such joyes when they embrace a Deity Taking leave when his Mistris was to ride HOw is it my ungentle fate When Love commanded me to wait Upon my Saint by break of day I brought a heart but carried none away When we joyn'd ceremonious breath And lips that took a leave like death With a sad parting thought opprest Did it leave mine to glide into her brest Or was it when like Pallas she Was mounted and I gaz'd to see My heart then looking through mine eye Did after her out at that window flie 'T was so and cause I did not ride My heart would Lackey by her side Or some more careful Angel be To see my Mistris safe convey'd for me Nay then attend thy charge nor fear Storms in the way and if a tear By chance at looking back on thee Bedew her eye drink that a health to me But smile at night and be her guest At once her musick and her feast And if at any mention made Of me she sigh say all thy travell 's paid But when shee 's gently laid to rest Oh listen softly to her brest And thou shalt hear her soul but see Thou wake her not for she may dream of me But what 's all this when I am here If fancie bid thee welcom there Heart this last dutie I implore Or bring her back or see thy Cell no more Love for Enjoying FAir Lady what 's your face to me I was not onely made to see Every silent stander by May thus enjoy as much as I. That blooming nature on your cheek Is still inviting me to seek For unknown wealth within the ground Are all the Royal mettals found Leave me to search I have a thread Through all the Labyrinth shall lead And through every winding veine Conduct me to the golden Mine Which once enjoy'd will give me power To make new Indies every houre Look on those Jewells that abound Upon your dresse that Diamond No flame no lustre could impart Should not the Lapidaries Art Contribute here and there a star And just such things ye women are Who do not in rude Quarries shine But meeting us y' are made divine Come let us mixe our selves and prove That action is the soul of Love Why do we coward-gazing stand Like Armies in the Netherland Contracting fear at eithers sight Till we both grow too weak to fight Let 's charge for shame and chuse you whether One shall fall or both together This is Loves war who ever dies If the surviver be but wise He may reduce the spirit fled For t'other kisse will cure the dead Vpon the Princes Birth FAir fall the Muses that in well-chim'd verse Our Princes happy birth do sing I have a heart as full of joy as their's As full of duty to my King And thus I tell How every bell Did ring forth Englands merry glee The Bonefires too With much adoe It were great pity to belye her Made all the City seem one fire A joyful sight to see The graver Citizens were foxt that day With beer and joy most soundly paid The Constables in duty reeld away And charged others them to aid To see how soon Both Sun and Moon And the seven Stars forgotten be But when 't was night Their heads were light To which they did exalt their horn Because a Prince of Wales was born A joyful c. The Dutch-men having drunk so much before Could not so well expresse their joy The French condemn'd not to be sober more Drank healths unto the Royal Boy In their own wine Neat brisk and fine The valiant Irish Cram-a-Cree It pledged hath In Vsquebagh And being in this jovial vein They made a bogg even of their brain A joyful c. The Welsh for joy her Cosin Prince was born Was mean to change S. Tavie's day Swearing no leeks was be hereafter worn But on the twenty nine of May None so merry Drinking Perry And Metheglin on their knee Was every man A Trojan than Thus arm'd the Tivel her defie And dare tell Beelzebub her lie A joyful c. The Scots in bonny ale their joy did sing And wish'd the Royal Babe a man That they might beg him but to be their King And let him rule'em when he can The Spanjard made A shrugg and said After my pipe come follow me Canary Sack Did go to wrack Some Marchants went to Malago Some drown'd in good old Charnico A joyful c. And now let all good Subjects prayers ascend That heaven with milk would swel their brest That nurse the babe may Angels still attend To rock him gently to his rest Let his glory Raise a story Worthy an immortal pen So Charles God blesse Our Queen no lesse And in conclusion of my Song I wish that man without a tongue That will not say Amen To his honoured friend Tho. Stanley Esquire upon his elegant Poems A Palsie shakes my pen while I intend A votive to thy Muse since to commend With my best skill will be as short of thee As thou above all future poesie Thou early miracle of Wit and Art That hath prodigiously so got the start Of Ages in thy study Time must be Old once agen in overtaking thee I know not where I am when I peruse Thy learned loves how