Selected quad for the lemma: truth_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A61487
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Occasions off-spring, or, Poems upon severall occasions by Mathew Stevenson.
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Stevenson, Matthew, fl. 1654-1685.
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1645
(1645)
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Wing S5504; ESTC R14739
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54,320
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144
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Yet while I love and in my breast enshrine yee It don 't to pitty but contempt incline yee Nature will lend my lip a cloak And than I may profess I want not zeal though man My statures small And Cuâ—id cannot find Me yet Shrubs loose th' advantage of the wind Yet should I love thus young I â—ight produce Such presidents would warrant my excuse And yours too Sapho sum'd up all her joy In the embrace of a Cicilian boy The Queen of Greecâ— lov'd Theseus but a Lad And Cytharea her Adonis had Nay Love himself that God is but a Child Shall I then be for want of years exil'd Yea I have heard fair Damsels say In truth Of all that love give me the smooth-chin'd Youth True I am young and thence I dare approve My non-acquaintance with the slights of love You are that woundld me the first and all Blame me not then that come at the fiâ—st â—all To Amabunda BUt dost beleive in faiâ—h that I Lov'd thee faith 〈…〉 liye Extinguish therefore thy desire Ere it becomes unruly fire For thy flames work but the same way With mee as the hot Sun on clay No thou must take thy heeles and flee If thou wouldst have mee follow thee Fugis insequor To Suavia NOt love you whom the world confess The miracle of prettinesse That were an humour to disguise My reason and betray my Eyes Noe noe without dissimulation Your beauty is too strong temptation Had I not found you the rare shee Y' had liv'd unlov'd unmov'd by mee I cannot court a common face Enricht with only one poor grace A forehead handsome smooth and high A lovely Lip or Chin or Eye But pardon Suavia if I Love You In whom all these graces move Deigne then one gentle smile on mee Who will your constant Vmbra be So long as either I have eyes Or you have wherewith to surprize Choose Madam then which you think best Either hard favour or soft breast Aut sacien mutes aut ne sis dura necâ—â—e est An Answer to the Song call'd faire Archybella to whose eyes c. My dearest ARchybella's Eyes Though nere so faire shall not despise But owne thy loyall sacrifice 2. Suppose her cruell And a while Hir frownes like midnight day exile T is noon again if you but smile 3. Wee like our lodging and protest So you provide a faithfull breast To vow our self your constant guest 4. Nor need you feare since you impart Your wounds so fresh but we have art And Balsam too to ease your smart 5. Let not a thought that death may give Molest thee doubt not thou to live If smiles or teares may but reprive 6. Dread not my deare so dire a doome Forbid it heaven the hower should come That thou shouldst suffer Martyrdome The Answer to Well-well t is true c. 1. WEll well t is true That I have lov'd a fool and it is you But since I plainly see Whilst I in pitty lend a smile You make me conscious all the while Of your Idolatry I 'le henceforth squib your Wildsire flames and scorne The adoration of an Ass So foolishly forlorne 2. Come come be wise and dally not with Ladies charmfull eyes The Magazine from whence Love armes himself the Stars I say Are bright and powerfull too but they Have no such influence We set us down in Titans glittering shine Reciprocating beame for beam Where Stars their heads decline 3. Whilst yee like fools to deâ—fie us pump and dreine your Schools For an Hyperbody Presuming that yee highly please Our Sex to stile us Goddeâ—es Alas we know yee lye VVe are but flesh and blood though our bright eyes Surprising your infaruate sense Yee deem us Deitâ—es BUt since that Fate has drawn me to the trouble of thy prate I l'e not my â—abour loose For I l'e make use of thine own plot To let thee know I love thee not Well or ill take it choose And therefore I le go get me a new bar To rid my Chamber of such Apes Such Toyes as Sutors are 5. GO love your wine and all your Muses nine and nine times nine So you will not love me For me I love my Dog my Cat Nay I would love I care not what So it may not be thee Love you your laughing and your quaffing Crew I love my Country and my King But hate such fools as you The Virgin Canticle to Gerrard 1. AVant yee false Intruders that my Chamber hant Good faith I can't No nor J will not listen to your love No more will J though you would give me all your store Unbolt my door You do but rocks and senseless marble move For well yea too too well J can your perjur'd story tell There 's no faith rests In mens false breasts Therefore farewell farewell 2. T is true I was so foolish once as to Love you But now Irue I ever yeilded unto such an ague But yet I de have you know my friend though I did get One burning fit I had another cold enough to plague you For I who was all fire am now congeald into all ice VVhence you may find Though I was kinde I can be merry and wise 3. The willow thou thinkst torments me but alas poor fellow Ask but my Pillow If it can witness ere a sigh I fetcht Or that on my bed-side as in a dreame I sate Moaning my fate Or out of melancholly my self streacht â—le warrant thee my boy thou 't find all circumstances prove That maidens too As well as you Can with discretion love 4. And now I do intend to run through Lovers row As well as you And tast the sweetnesse of variety For I suppose there 's some sweet sweet in it or yee VVould never be So much addicted to inconstancie Therefore I le set and see the messes usherâ— in by scores And tast of this And that fine dish To the hundred and fiftith course 5. In vaine thou temptst mee Paris what wouldst thou be faine Forsworn againe Alas I valew not thy threadbare Oathes Goe finde some other tame foole for I have no minde T' embrace the wind No nor those vowes thou puâ—st of with thy cloaths If yet thou dst have me love thee then I prethee nere come to mee For I protest I love thee best When thou art furthest from mee The Choice T Is not thy rubie Lips nor Rosie Cheeks In which my heart a full contentment seekes T is not the treasure of thy golden tresses Thaâ— makes me rich or challenge my Caresses Nor yet thy light-dispersing eyes though they Be the true Phosphors of the breaking day Should I serve beauties obvious to the eye Pigmaleons statue then would see the vye And I might well if I should cease to range Advantage my affâ—ction at the change But I have suited at a nobler rate Then to court paint Beauties inaninâ—ate In summe there 's nothing out-sides can impart Hath power to make a conquest on my heart