Amon 'Bove

Of he

Yet fele With th

For Beaut

Oft-times, that
Upon his ftately
Rides by her houfe,
Proud to be view'd by
But his poor mafter, tho
His joy, dares fhew no look

Soon as the Morning left
And all heav'n's smaller

She, by her friends and no

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Her hair was brighter than the beams which are
A crown to Phoebus, and her breath so sweet,

It did tranfcend Arabian odours får,


Or fmelling flow'rs, wherewith the Spring does greet Approaching Summer; teeth like falling fnow

For white, were placed in a double row.


Her wit excelling praise, ev'n all admire;
Her fpeech was fo attractive, it might be
A cause to raise the mighty Pallas' ire,
And ftir up envy from that deity.

The maiden-lilies at her fight

Wax'd pale with envy,and from thence grew


She was in birth and parentage as high,
As in her fortune great or beauty rare,
And to her virtuous mind's nobility
The gifts of Fate and Nature doubled were;
That in her spotlefs foul and lovely face
You might have seen each deity and grace.



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A fcornful boy, Adonis, viewing her,
Would Venus ftill defpife, yet her defire;
Each who but faw was a competitor
And rival, fcorch'd alike with Cupid's fire.
The glorious beams of her fair eyes did move
heir way to love.




Among her many fuitors a young knight,
'Bove others wounded with the majesty
Of her fair presence, presseth most in sight;
Yet feldom his defire can fatisfy

With that bless'd object, or her rareness see;
For Beauty's guard is watchful Jealousy.


Oft-times, that he might fee his dearest fair,
Upon his stately jennet he in th' way

Rides by her house, who neighs, as if he were
Proud to be view'd by bright Constantia:
But his poor master, tho' he see her move
His joy, dares fhew no look betraying love.


Soon as the Morning left her rofy bed,

And all heav'n's fmaller lights were driv'n away,
She, by her friends and near acquaintance led,
Like other maids, would walk at break of day:
Aurora blush'd to fee a fight unknown,


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To behold cheeks more beauteous than her own. 60


Th' obfequious lover follows still her train,
And where they go that way his journey feigns:
Should they turn back, he would turn back again,
For with his love his business still remains.
Nor is it strange he fhould be loath to part
From her, whofe eyes had stole away his heart.



Philetus he was call'd, fprung from a race
Of noble ancestors; but greedy Time
And envious Fate had labour'd to deface
The glory which in his great stock did shine:
Small his estate, unfitting her degree;

But blinded Love could no fuch diff'rence fee.


Yet he by chance had hit this heart aright,
And dipp'd his arrow in Conftantia's eyes,
Blowing a fire that would destroy him quite,
Unless fuch flames within her heart should rife:
But yet he fears, because he blinded is,
Tho' he have shot him right her heart he'll miss.

Unto Love's altar therefore he repairs,
And offers up a pleasing sacrifice,

Entreating Cupid, with inducing pray'rs,
To look upon and ease his miseries;

Where having pray'd, recov'ring breath again,
Thus to immortal Love he did complain:


"Oh! mighty Cupid! whose unbounded sway "Hath often rul'd th' Olympian Thunderer, "Whom all celestial deities obey,





"Whom men and gods both reverence and fear! "Oh! force Conftantia's heart to yield to love; "Of all thy works the masterpiece 'twill prove. 90


"And let me not affection vainly spend, "But kindle flames in her like thofe in me; "Yet if that gift my fortune doth transcend, "Grant that her charming beauty I may fee; "For ever view those eyes, whofe charming light 95 "More than the world befides does please my fight. XVII.

"Those who contemn thy facred deity,


Laugh at thy pow'r, make them thine anger know; "I faultless am; what honour can it be

"Only to wound your flave, and fpare your foe?" ICO Here tears and sighs speak his imperfect moan,

In language far more moving than his own.


Home he retir'd; his foul he brought not home;
Just like a ship, while every mounting wave,
Tofs'd by enraged Boreas up and down,
Threatens the mariner with a gaping grave;
Such did his cafe, fuch did his state appear,
Alike distracted between hope and fear.

Thinking her love he never shall obtain,

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One morn he haunts the woods, and doth complain

Of his unhappy fate; but all in vain ;

And thus fond Echo answers him again.
It mov'd Aurora, and the wept to hear,
Dewing the verdant grafs with many a tear.


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