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] |
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 | ||