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قراءة كتاب Speculum Amantis Love Poems, from Rare Songbooks and Miscellanies of the Seventeenth Century

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Speculum Amantis
Love Poems, from Rare Songbooks and Miscellanies of the
Seventeenth Century

Speculum Amantis Love Poems, from Rare Songbooks and Miscellanies of the Seventeenth Century

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
الصفحة رقم: 5

class="tdl">'Tis not how witty nor how free (Wit's Interpreter)

61 'Tis true your beauty, which before (Wit's Recreations) 86 To bed ye two in one united go (Baron) 117 To her whose beauty doth excel (Wits Interpreter) 75 Two lovers sat lamenting (Corkine) 91   Under the willow-shades they were (Davenant) 89 Underneath this myrtle shade (Windsor Drollery) 26   What though Flora frowns on me (Tixall Poetry) 108 When doth Love set forth desire? (Academy of Compliments) 100 When first Amyntas sued for a kiss (D'Urfey) 103 When I do love I wish to taste the fruit (Harl. MS. 6917) 5 When Phœbus first did Daphne love (John Dowland) 55 Why is your faithful slave disdain'd (Banquet of Music) 59 Why, Nanny, quoth he. Why, Janny, quoth she. (Oxford Drollery) 23 Why should passion lead thee blind (Harl. MS. 791) 56 Would you be a man of fashion (Tixall Poetry) 116 Would you know earth's highest pleasure (Tixall Poetry) 116   Yes, I could love if I could find (Malone MS. 16) 57 You nimble dreams with cobweb wings (Sloane MS. 1792) 51 You that in the midst of night (Ashmole MS. 38) 58 Your smiles are not as other women's be (Townsend) 126


SPECULUM AMANTIS.

From The Academy of Compliments, 1650.

IF[2] my lady bid begin,
Shall I say "No: 'tis a sin"?
If she bid me kiss and play,
Shall I shrink, cold fool, away?
If she clap my cheeks and spy
Little Cupids in my eye,
Gripe my hand and stroke my hair,
Shall I like a faint heart fear?
No, no, no: let those that lie
In dismal prison, and would die,
Despair and fear; let those that cry
They are forsaken and would fly,
Quit their fortunes; mine are free:
Hope makes me hardy, so does she.

From Harl. MS. 6917. fol. 38.

LET common beauties have the power
To make one love-sick for an hour,
Perhaps for one whole day or two;
But so to captivate a heart
As it should never, never part,
None hath that art
But only you.
Let meaner beauties have the skill,
By tempering hopes with fears, to kill
And by degrees a heart undo;
But with a sweet, yet tyrant, eye
At once to bid one look and die,

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