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Upon the autumn or the spring,
And spare us neither fruit nor flower; Winter would not stay an hour.
Could the resolve of love's neglect
Preserve you from the violation
Were due to so divine a fashion;
OF ENGLISH VERSE.
Poets may boast, as safely vain,
But who can hope his line should long
When architects have done their part,
Time, if we use ill-chosen stone,
Poets, that lasting marble seek,
Chaucer his sense can only boast,
The beauties which adorn'd that age,
This was the generous poet's scope,
Verse, thus design'd, has no ill fate,
WHILE I listen to thy voice,
Chloris, I feel my life decay:
Calls my fitting soul away.
Peace, Chloris, peace! or singing die, That together you and I
To heaven may go ;
For all we know Of what the blessed do above, Is that they sing, and that they love.
Was born in 1605, of a Roman Catholic family, and educated
at Paris and St. Omers. His literary accomplishments, and particularly his historical knowledge, recommended him to the favour of Charles I. at whose command he composed his “ Observations on History,” in one volume, svo, and a “ History of Edward IV.” in which, Wood says, his father, Thomas Habington, had a considerable hand. He also wrote a tragi-comedy called “ The Queen of “ Arragon,” 1640; and a small volume of poems under the title of “ Castara.” He died in 1654.
e young folly, though you were
Yet you ne'er could touch my heart;
You're not worth the serious part.
When I sigh and kiss your hand,
Holding parley with your eye:
Then dilate on my desires,
All is but a handsome lie.
When I eye your curl or lace,
Straight some murder doth commit;
Therefore, Madam, wear no cloud,
For in sooth, I much do doubt
cloaths that set you out.
Yet though truth has this confess'd,
When I next begin to court,
Bedlam ! this is pretty sport.