 | Poems upon Several Occasions |  |
ANOTHER.
When last I heard your nimble fingers playUpon your Lute, nothing so sweet as they
Seem'd; all my soul fled ravish'd to my ear,
That sweetly animating sound to hear.
My ravish'd Heart with play Kept equal time,
Fell down with you, with you did Ela climbe,
Grew sad or lighter, as the tunes you plai'd,
And with your Lute a perfect measure made:
If all so much as I, your Musick Love,
The whole world would at your devotion move,
And at your speaking Lutes surpassing charmes,
Embrace a lasting peace, and fling by Arms.
| Poems upon Several Occasions | |