SONG. [In the Nice Valour.] HENCE all you vain delights, Wherein you spend your folly; But only melancholy, O sweetest melancholy! Welcome folded arms, and fixed eyes, Fountain-heads and pathless groves, SONG. [In a Masque.] YE should stay longer if we durst- Gave time wild wings to fly away, And not a creature nigh 'em, Might catch his scythe as he doth pass, And keep him ever by 'em. SONG. [In the Queen of Corinth.] WEEP no more, nor sigh, nor groan, Sorrow calls no time that's gone. Violets pluck'd, the sweetest rain Makes not fresh nor grow again. Trim thy locks, look cheerfully, Fate's hidden ends eyes cannot see. VOL. III. E Joys, as winged dreams, fly fast, Gentlest fair! mourn, mourn, no moe. DUET. [In the Captain.] "TELL me, dearest, what is love?" "Tis a lightning from above; 'Tis an arrow, 'tis a fire; "Tis a boy they call Desire; "Tis a grave Those fools that long to prove. poor "Tell me more, are women true?" Yes, some are, and some as you. Some are willing, some are strange, Since you men first taught to change; And till troth Be in both, All shall love, to love anew. "Tell me more yet, can they grieve?" Yes, and sicken sore, but live, And be wise, and delay When you men are as wise as they: "Then I see "Faith will be "Never till they both believe." SONG. [In the Elder Brother.] BEAUTY clear and fair, Where the air Rather like a perfume dwells; Where the violet and the rose And come to honour nothing else. Where to live near And planted there, Is to live and still live new; Where to gain a favour is More than light, perpetual bliss; Make me live by serving you! SONG. [In a Wife for a Month.] LET those complain that feel love's cruelty, My mistress' eyes shine fair on my desires, No more an exile will I dwell, With folded arms and sighs all day, Reckoning the torments of my hell, And flinging my sweet joys away. I am call'd home again to quiet peace, Yet what is living in her eye, Or being blest with her sweet tongue, If these no other joys imply? A golden gyve, a pleasing wrong. To be your own but one poor month, I'd give My youth, my fortune, and then leave to live. |