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Aurelian Townshend's Poem and Masks

Edited by E. K. Chambers
Townshend, Aurelian (fl. 1601-1643)

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Poems from Songbooks.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II. To the Countesse of Salisbury.
 III. 
III. Youth and Beauty.
 IV. 
IV. A Dialogue betwixt Time and a Pilgrime.
 V. 
V. A Bacchanall.
 VI. 
VI. In praise of his Mistress.
 VII. 
VII. Sufferance.
 VIII. 
VIII.
 IX. 
IX. On his hearing her Majesty sing.
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Poems from Manuscripts.
 X. 
X. To the Lady May.
 XI. 
XI
 XII. 
XII.
 XIII. 
XIII. Pure Simple Love.
 XIV. 
XIV. A Paradox.
 XV. 
XV.
 XVI. 
XVI. An Elegie made by Mr Aurelian Townshend In remembrance of the Ladie Venetia Digby.
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Commendatory Poems.
 XVII. 
XVII. To the Right Honourable, the Lord Cary, eldest sonne to the Earle of Monmouth.
 XVIII. 
XVIII. To the Incomparable Brothers, Mr. Henry, and Mr. William Lawes (Servants to His Majestie) upon the setting of these Psalmes.
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Doubtful Poems.
 XIX. 
XIX. Mr. Townsends Verses to Ben Johnsons, in answer to an Abusive Copie, crying down his Magnetick Lady.
 XX. 
XX.
 XXI. 
XXI. La Boiuinette.
 XXII. 
XXII. Upon kinde and true Love.
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ALBIONS TRIVMPH.
  
The first Song.
  
The first Chorus.
  
The second Song.
  
The second Chorus.
  
The third Song.
  
The Dialogue betweene Cvpid and Diana.
  
The Chorus below sing.
  
The fourth Song.
  
The fift Song.
  
The sixth Song sung by the five Deities.
  
Peace Sings alone the seventh Song.
  
The Five.
  
The eighth Song.
  
The last generall Chorus.
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TEMPE RESTORD
  
The fugitive Favourite.
  
The Song of Circe, represented by Madam Coniacke.
  
Harmony presented by Mris Shep.
  
A Saraband.
  
The Highest Sphere represented by Mr. Laneere.
  
The Song.
  
[It is but Iustice, to torment a heart]

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12

VIII.

[When we were parted]

When we were parted,
Though but for a while,
From my brest started
A post ev'ry mile:
But I feare, none were directed
From your bosome to me;
For a beauty so affected
Looks for Love custome free.
Tis then no marveill
My state should decay,
Brought to be servil
And kept from my pay.
But ingratefull to the giver,
Know the Sea as your King
Can as well exhaust a river,
As you suck up a spring.
And though triumphing
You rowle to the Main,
Small streames are something
And part of your train.
Use me gently then that follow,
Made by custome so tame,
I am silent whilest you swallow
Both my tears, and my name.
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