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Martha soon did it resign
To the beauteous Catharine.

Beauteous Catharine gave place
(Though loath and angry she to part
With the possession of my heart)

To Eliza's conquering face. Eliza till this hour might reign, Had she not evil counsels ta'en ;

Fundamental laws she broke, And still new favorites she chose, Till up in arms my passions rose,

And cast away her yoke. Mary then, and gentle Anne, Both to reign at once began ;

Alternately they swayed ;
And sometimes Mary was the fair,
And sometimes Anne the crown did wear,

And sometimes both I obeyed.
Another Mary then arose,
And did rigorous laws impose;

A mighty tyrant she !
Long, alas ! should I have been
Under that iron-sceptred queen,

Had not Rebecca set me free.
When fair Rebecca set me free,
'T was then a golden time with me:

But soon those pleasures fled ;
For the gracious princess died
In her youth and beauty's pride,

And Judith reigned in her stead.
One month, three days, and half an hour,
Judith held the sovereign power :

Wondrous beautiful her face !
But so weak and small her wit,
That she to govern was unfit,

And so Susanna took her place.
But when Isabella came,
Armed with a resistless flame,

And the artillery of her eye,
Whilst she proudly marched about,
Greater conquests to find out,

She beat out Susan, by the by. But in her place I then obeyed Black-eyed Bess, her viceroy-maid,

To whom ensued a vacancy :
Thousand worse passions then possessed
The interregnum of my breast ;

Bless me from such an anarchy !
Gentle Henrietta then,
And a third Mary next began;

Then Joan, and Jane, and Andria ;
And then a pretty Thomasine,
And then another Catharine,

And then a long et cætera.

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A face made up
Out of no other shop
Than what Nature's white hand sets ope.
Sydneian showers
Of sweet discourse, whose powers
Can crown old Winter's head with flowers.
Whate'er delight
Can make day's forehead bright
Or give down to the wings of night.
Soft silken hours,
Open suns, shady bowers ;
'Bove all, nothing within that lowers.
Days, that need borrow
No part of their good morrow
From a fore-spent night of sorrow :
Days, that in spite
Of darkness, by the light
Of a clear mind are day all night.
Life, that dares send
A challenge to his end,
And when it comes, say, “Welcome, friend."
I wish her store
Of worth may leave her poor
Of wishes ; and I wish - no more.

Now, if Time knows
That Her, whose radiant brows
Weave them a garland of my vows;
Her that dares be
What these lines wish to see :
I seek no further, it is She.
'T is She, and here
Lo! I unclothe and clear
My wishes' cloudy character.
Such worth as this is
Shall fix my flying wishes,
And determine them to kisses.
Let her full glory,
My fancies, fly before ye ;
Be ye my fictions :- but her story.

R. CRASHAW

RIVALRY IN LOVE.

But I will briefer with them be,
Since few of them were long with me.

An higher and a nobler strain
My present emperess does claim,
Heleonora, first of the name ;
Whom God grant long to reign !

ABRAHAM COWLEY.

A DOUBT.

FROM THE THIRD BOOK OF LAWES'S AYRES.

FAIN would I love, but that I fear
I quickly should the willow wear ;
Fain would I marry,

but men say
When love is tied he will away ;
Then tell me, love, what shall I do,
To cure these fears, whene'er I woo ?

The fair one she's a mark to all,
The brown each one doth lovely call,
The black 's a pearl in fair men's eyes,
The rest will stoop at any prize ;
Then tell me, love, what shall I do,
To cure these fears whene'er I woo ?

DR. R. HUGHES.

WISHES FOR THE SUPPOSED MISTRESS.

WHOE'ER she be,
That not impossible She
That shall command my heart and me;
Where'er she lie,
Locked up from mortal eye
In shady leaves of destiny:
Till that ripe birth
Of studied Fate stand forth,
And teach her fair steps to our earth ;

Till that divine
Idea take a shrine
Of crystal flesh, through which to shine :

- Meet you her, my Wishes,
Bespeak her to my blisses,
And be ye called, my absent kisses.
I wish her beauty
That owes not all its duty
To gaudy tire, or glist'ring shoe-tie :
Something more than
Taffeta or tissue can,
Or rampant feather, or rich fan.
A face that's best
By its own beauty drest,
And can alone command the rest :

Of all the torments, all the cares,

With which our lives are curst; Of all the plagues a lover bears,

Sure rivals are the worst !
By partners in each other kind,

Afflictions easier grow ;
In love alone we hate to find

Companions of our woe.

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My dear and only love, I pray,

This noble world of thee
Be governed by no other sway

But purest monarchie.
For if confusion have a part,

Which virtuous souls abhore, And hold a synod in thy heart,

I'll never love thee more.

THE LOVELINESS OF LOVE.

Like Alexander I will reign,

And I will reign alone,
My thoughts shall evermore disdain

A rival on my throne.
He either fears his fate too much,

Or his deserts are small,
That puts it not unto the touch,

To win or lose it all.

It is not Beauty I demand,

A crystal brow, the moon's despair, Nor the snow's daughter, a white hand,

Nor mermaid's yellow pride of hair : Tell me not of your starry eyes,

Your lips that seem on roses fed, Your breasts, where Cupid tumbling lies

Nor sleeps for kissing of his bed, A bloomy pair of vermeil cheeks

Like Hebe's in her ruddiest hours, A breath that softer music speaks

Than summer winds a-wooing flowers ; These are but gauds : nay, what are lips ?

Coral beneath the ocean-stream,
Whose brink where your adventurer slips

Full oft he perisheth on them.
And what are cheeks, but ensigns oft

That wave hot youth to fields of blood ? Did Helen's breast, though ne'er so soft,

Do Greece or Ilium any good ?

JAMES GRAHAM, Earl of Montrose

MY CHOICE.

.

SHALL I tell you whom I love?

Hearken then awhile to me; And if such a woman move

As I now shall versify,
Be assured 't is she or none,
That I love, and love alone.

Nature did her so much right

As she scorns the help of art.
In as many virtues dight

As e'er yet embraced a heart.
So much good so truly tried,
Some for less were deifieda
Wit she hath, without desier

To make known how much she hath ; And her anger flames no higher

Than may fitly sweeten wrath.
Full of pity as may be,
Though perhaps not so to me.
Reason masters every sense,

And her virtues grace her birth;
Lovely as all excellence,

Modest in her most of mirth. Likelihood enough to prove Only worth could kindle love. Such she is; and if you know

Such a one as I have sung ;
Be she brown, or fair, or so

That she be but somewhat young;
Be assured 't is she, or none,
That I love, and love alone.

WILLIAM BROWNE.

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LOVE ME LITTLE, LOVE ME LONG.

ORIGINALLY PRINTED IN 1569.
Love me little, love me long !
Is the burden of my song:
Love that is too hot and strong

Burneth soon to waste.
Still I would not have thee cold,
Not too backward, nor too bold;
Love that lasteth till 't is old

Fadeth not in haste.
Love me little, love me long !
Is the burden of my song.
If thou lovest me too much,
'T will not prove as true a touch ;
Love me little more than such,

For I fear the end.
I'm with little well content,
And a little from thee sent
Is enough, with true intent

To be steadfast, friend.
Say thou lovest me, while thou live
I to thee my love will give,
Never dreaming to deceive

While that life endures;
Nay, and after death, in sooth,
I to thee will keep my truth,
As now when in my May of youth:

This my love assures.
Constant love is moderate ever,
And it will through life persever ;
Give me that with true endeavor, -

I will it restore.
A suit of durance let it be,
For all weathers,

that for me,
For the land or for the sea :

Lasting evermore.
Winter's cold or summer's heat,
Autumn's tempests on it beat ;
It can never know defeat,

Never can rebel :
Such the love that I would gain,
Such the love, I tell thee plain,
Thou must give, or woo in vain :
So to thee - farewell !

ANONYMOUS

SONG.

SHALL I love you like the wind, love,

That is so fierce and strong,
That sweeps all barriers from its path

And recks not right or wrong?
The passion of the wind, love,

Can never last for long.

T. CAREW.

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But when he haunts your door... the town

Marks coming and marks going...
You seem to have stitched your eyelids down
To that long piece of sewing!

IV.
You never give a look, not you,

Nor drop him a “Good morning,"
To keep his long day warm and blue,

So fretted by your scorning.

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Her pedigree - good sooth, 't is long !

Her grim sires stare from every wall;
And centuries of ancestral grace
Revive in her sweet girlish face,

As meek she glides through Moreton Hall. Whilst I have — nothing ; save, perhaps,

Some worthless heaps of idle gold
And a true heart, — the which her eye
Through glittering dross spied, womanly ;

Therefore they say her heart was sold !
I laugh ; she laughs; the hills and vales

Laugh as we ride 'neath chestnuts tall,
Or start the deer that silent graze,
And look up, large-eyed, with soft gaze,

At the fair maid of Moreton Hall;

She shook her head : “ The mouse and bee

For crumb or flower will linger;
The dog is happy at my knee,
The cat purrs at my finger.

VI. “But he ... to him, the least thing given

Means great things at a distance ; He wants my world, my sun, my heaven,

Soul, body, whole existence.

VII.

We let the neighbors talk their fill,

For life is sweet, and love is strong, And two, close knit in marriage ties, The whole world's shams may well despise,

Its folly, madness, shame, and wrong.

“They say love gives as well as takes ;

But I'm a simple maiden, My mother's first smile when she wakes I still have smiled and prayed in.

VIII. “I only know my mother's love

Which gives all and asks nothing,

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