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The most elegant and witty epigrams of Sir Iohn Harrington

... digested into fovre bookes: three whereof neuer before published

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85 Ouids confession translated into English for Generall Norreys. 1593.
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85 Ouids confession translated into English for Generall Norreys. 1593.

To liue in Lust I make not my profession,
Nor in my Verse, my vices to defend:
But rather by a true and plaine confession,
To make men know my meaning is to mend.
I hate, and am my selfe that most I hate,
I load my selfe, yet striue to be discharged,
Like sterelesse ship vnstai'd, runnes my estate,
Bound by my selfe, I sue to be enlarged.
No certaine shape, my fancies doth enflame:
A hundred causes kindle my affection,
If sober looke doe show a modest shame,
Straight to those eyes my soule is in subiection,
A wanton looke, no lesse my heart doth pierce,
Because it showes a pleasant inclination.
If she be coy like Sabines sharpe and fierce,
I thinke such coynesse, deepe dissimulation,
If she be learn'd, I honour gifts so rare,
If ignorant, I loue a milde simplicitie.
If she doe praise my writings, and compare
Them with the best, in her I take felicitie.
If she dispraise my Verses, and their Maker,
To win her liking, I my loue would lend her.
Goes she well grac't? Her gate would make me take her:
If ill, perhaps to touch a man, would mend her.
Is shee well tun'd in voice, a cunning singer?
To snatch a kisse, eu'n thus I feele a will.


Playes she on Lute with sweete and learned finger?
What heart can hate a hand so full of skill?
But if she know with heart her armes to moue,
And dance Carantoes with a comely grace,
T'omit my selfe that quickly fall in loue,
Hippolitus would haue Priapus place,
Like th'ancient Heroyes I count thee tall,
Me thinkes they fill a braue roome in the bed:
Yet comlier sports are found in statures small,
Thus long and short haue aye my liking bred.
If she goe plaine, then what a piece were this?
Were she attyr'd, if braue, I loue her brauery,
Fayre, nut-browne, sallow, none doth looke amisse,
My wanton lust is thrald in so great slauery.
If hayre like Iet, her neck like Iuory couer,
Ledas was blacke, and that was Ledas glory.
With yellow lockes, Aurora pleas'd her louer.
Loe thus my fancie sutes to euery story:
The Matron graue, the greene yong girle and pritty,
I like for age, for manners vnsuspicious,
In fine, to all in Country, Court and City,
My loue doth presse to proue it selfe ambitious.