Strange Histories, or, Songes and Sonets, of Kings, Princes, Dukes, Lordes, Ladyes, Knights, and Gentlemen Very pleasant either to be read or songe: and a most excellent warning for all estates [by Thomas Deloney] |
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A Maydes Letter.
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 | Strange Histories, or, Songes and Sonets, of Kings, Princes, Dukes, Lordes, Ladyes, Knights, and Gentlemen |  |
A Maydes Letter.
Cant. 14.
Haste
Commendations, and passe with speed,
and litle writing to my Loue:
Spare not to speake for any dread,
For why, no man can mee remoue.
Say this vnto my Turtle-doue,
although my body absent bee,
There is no man can mee remoue,
for in conceit I am with thee.
and litle writing to my Loue:
Spare not to speake for any dread,
For why, no man can mee remoue.
Say this vnto my Turtle-doue,
although my body absent bee,
There is no man can mee remoue,
for in conceit I am with thee.
The gladsome day shall loose his light,
and be as darke as dungeon deepe:
Phœbus shall rule the irkesome night,
and banish Morphew from my sight,
Ere euer I from my Loue leppe,
although my body absent bee:
The Wormes shall flie which now do creepe,
for in conceit I am with thee.
and be as darke as dungeon deepe:
Phœbus shall rule the irkesome night,
Ere euer I from my Loue leppe,
although my body absent bee:
The Wormes shall flie which now do creepe,
for in conceit I am with thee.
The Sea and Land shall be a like,
both Fish and Fowle it shall be one:
The litle Lambe the Wolfe shall strike,
and then began the greater drone.
The Feathers shall be turnd to stone,
although my body absent bee,
Or I against my true-loue hold,
for in conceit I am with thee.
both Fish and Fowle it shall be one:
The litle Lambe the Wolfe shall strike,
and then began the greater drone.
The Feathers shall be turnd to stone,
although my body absent bee,
Or I against my true-loue hold,
for in conceit I am with thee.
The Tree shall florish in the Fire,
bringing foorth fruite ten thousand fold:
So shall the Horse in dirt and myre
bring Foles, past count for to be told.
All kind of Mettle shall be Gold:
Although my body absent bee,
Or I against my true-loue hold,
for in conceit I am with thee.
bringing foorth fruite ten thousand fold:
So shall the Horse in dirt and myre
bring Foles, past count for to be told.
All kind of Mettle shall be Gold:
Although my body absent bee,
Or I against my true-loue hold,
for in conceit I am with thee.
The Flowers that smels deliciously,
shall stinke no man may them abide:
And Oyles and Oyntments preciously,
shall be corrupt, and neuer tride,
Ere I my selfe I do deny:
although my body absent bee,
Morphewes to mee shall be one guide,
For in conceit I am with thee.
shall stinke no man may them abide:
And Oyles and Oyntments preciously,
Ere I my selfe I do deny:
although my body absent bee,
Morphewes to mee shall be one guide,
For in conceit I am with thee.
When all these thinges be come to passe,
which I on spake, then be assured,
You's find these women brittle as glasse:
but not till then, if life be pure,
Constant still I will endure,
whiles there's any life in my body,
If I speake the words, Ile make them sure,
and in conceit Ile end with thee.
which I on spake, then be assured,
You's find these women brittle as glasse:
but not till then, if life be pure,
Constant still I will endure,
whiles there's any life in my body,
If I speake the words, Ile make them sure,
and in conceit Ile end with thee.
A. C.
Finis.
| Strange Histories, or, Songes and Sonets, of Kings, Princes, Dukes, Lordes, Ladyes, Knights, and Gentlemen | |