1603. Wooing Song Sleep is a reconciling, A rest that peace begets; While she lies sleeping Softly, now softly lies Sleeping. 18 Anonymous. WOOING SONG LOVE is the blossom where there blows He burns the fishes in the seas: Not all the skill his wounds can stench, While in his leaves there shrouded lay ΙΟΙ ΤΟ And of all love's joyful flame I the bud and blossom am. Only bend thy knee to me, Thy wooing shall thy winning be! See, see the flowers that below Like unto a summer shade, But now born, and now they fade. Is gladly bruised to make me wine: 1610. Giles Fletcher. CHERRY-RIPE THERE is a garden in her face Where roses and white lilies grow; Those cherries fairly do enclose Her eyes like angels watch them still; Her brows like bended bows do stand, Threat'ning with piercing frowns to kill All that attempt with eye or hand Those sacred cherries to come nigh, -Till Cherry-Ripe themselves do cry! 1606. 12 18 Thomas Campion. FOLLOW YOUR SAINT FOLLOW your saint, follow with accents sweet! There, wrapt in cloud of sorrow, pity move, And tell the ravisher of my soul I perish for her love: But if she scorns my never-ceasing pain, Then burst with sighing in her sight, and ne'er return again! All that I sung still to her praise did tend; Then let my notes pursue her scornful flight! 1601. 6 12 Thomas Campion. MADRIGAL From Davison's Poetical Rhapsody My Love in her attire doth show her wit, No beauty she doth miss When all her robes are on: But Beauty's self she is When all her robes are gone. 1602. Anonymor's VOBISCUM EST IOPE WHEN thou must home to shades of underground, To hear the stories of thy finish'd love Then wilt thou speak of banqueting delights, Of masques and revels which sweet youth did make, Of tourneys and great challenges of knights, And all these triumphs for thy beauty's sake: When thou hast told these honours done to thee, Then tell, O tell, how thou didst murder me! Thomas Campion. 1601. LOVE NOT ME FOR COMELY GRACE Love me not for comely grace, 12 |