The Treasury of Musick Containing ayres and dialogues To Sing to the theorbo-lute or basse-viol. Composed |
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The Earl to the Countess of Carbery.
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 | The Treasury of Musick |  |
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The Earl to the Countess of Carbery.
You ask, my Dear, if I be well;
Feel thine own pulse, and that will tell:
Vain is all other Art
That beats the Temper of my Heart;
If I may call that mine
Is so entirely thine.
Dearest, then tell me how I doe;
For both my Health and Heart's in You.
Feel thine own pulse, and that will tell:
Vain is all other Art
That beats the Temper of my Heart;
If I may call that mine
Is so entirely thine.
Dearest, then tell me how I doe;
For both my Health and Heart's in You.
When first I view'd thee, I did spy
Thy Soul stand beck'ning in thine Eye;
My Heart knew what it meant,
And at the very first Kiss went,
Two Balls of Wax so run
When melted into one:
Mix'd now with thine, my Heart now lies,
And much Loves Riddle as thy Prize.
Thy Soul stand beck'ning in thine Eye;
My Heart knew what it meant,
And at the very first Kiss went,
Two Balls of Wax so run
When melted into one:
Mix'd now with thine, my Heart now lies,
And much Loves Riddle as thy Prize.
For, since I can't pretend to have
That Heart, which I so freely gave;
Yet now 'tis Mine the more,
Because 'tis thine, then 'twas before:
Death will unriddle this;
For when thou 'rt call'd to bliss,
He needs not throw at me his Dart,
'Cause piercing thine, he kills my Heart.
That Heart, which I so freely gave;
Yet now 'tis Mine the more,
Because 'tis thine, then 'twas before:
Death will unriddle this;
For when thou 'rt call'd to bliss,
He needs not throw at me his Dart,
'Cause piercing thine, he kills my Heart.
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