Alba. The Months Minde of a Melancholy Lover, diuided into three parts By R. T. Gentleman [i.e. Robert Tofte]. Herevnto is Added a most excellent pathetical and passionate Letter, sent by Duke D'Epernoun, vnto the late French King, Henry the 3. of that name, when he was commanded from the Court, and from his Royall Companie. Translated into English by the foresaid Author |
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Richard Day to the Author. |
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 | Alba. The Months Minde of a Melancholy Lover, diuided into three parts |  |
Richard Day to the Author.
Whilst
louely Robin Redbrest thou dost sing,
In chirping note her Beautie most diuine,
Whom thou to heauen with peales of praise dost ring.
The gentle Aire with thee keepes tune and time:
Aurora, from the skies on Alba sweet,
Raines Roses, her in kindnes more to greet.
In chirping note her Beautie most diuine,
Whom thou to heauen with peales of praise dost ring.
The gentle Aire with thee keepes tune and time:
Aurora, from the skies on Alba sweet,
Raines Roses, her in kindnes more to greet.
To heare thee sing the Windes are whist in th' aire.
And calmie Zephirus a coole fresh blast doth blow:
Flora doth smile, and Riuers forced are
To stay their course, they like thy musick so:
Willing they lend to thee their listning eare,
As who would say, Him only would we heare.
And calmie Zephirus a coole fresh blast doth blow:
Flora doth smile, and Riuers forced are
To stay their course, they like thy musick so:
Willing they lend to thee their listning eare,
As who would say, Him only would we heare.
The sauage beasts do runne; the liueles stones
Tumble apace, and mouing Mountaines hie,
To heare how sweetly thou thy Loue bemones,
Taking delight in this rare melodie,
Whilst Love himselfe hearing thee making Loue,
The heate thereof as rauished doth proue.
Tumble apace, and mouing Mountaines hie,
To heare how sweetly thou thy Loue bemones,
Taking delight in this rare melodie,
Whilst Love himselfe hearing thee making Loue,
The heate thereof as rauished doth proue.
So did the Thracian Orpheus heretofore,
Vpon the flowring bankes of Heber play
On skilfull Harpe, (as thou dost now implore
Longst Tamesis) for faire Euredisay.
Be then our English Orpheus, raise thy Verse,
Thy worthie Albas praise, brauely rehearse.
Vpon the flowring bankes of Heber play
On skilfull Harpe, (as thou dost now implore
Longst Tamesis) for faire Euredisay.
Be then our English Orpheus, raise thy Verse,
Thy worthie Albas praise, brauely rehearse.
R. Day. Gentleman.
| Alba. The Months Minde of a Melancholy Lover, diuided into three parts | |