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Flovvers of Epigrammes

Ovt of sundrie the moste singular authours selected, as well auncient as late writers. Pleasant and profitable to the expert readers of quicke capacitie: By Timothe Kendall
 

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ANGERIANVS.
 
 
 
 
 
 
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57

ANGERIANVS.

To the Rose.

Thou Rose so faire doest quickly fade,
so forme fades quickly sure:
Then thou faire Rose, & beautie braue
a like tyme doe endure.

To his Image.

My portrature so liuely wrought,
tell me who fashioned thee?
How passyng right resemblest thou,
the countenaunce of me.
Thou lookest pale, pale eke looke I:
thou blinde, I also blinde:
(Aye me) no mynde hast thou at all,
I likewise haue no minde.
No life hast thou, no life haue I:
thou dumbe canst nothyng speake,
(Aye me) my tongue ne talkes at all,
I dumbe and speachlesse eake.
No harte doeth harber in thy breast,
I hartlesse am againe:
Thou bidest vnaccompanied,
so likewise I remaine:
Of fadyng paper thou compacte,

[57]

that quickly doeth decaie:
My bodie eke but brittle barke,
vnstedfast still doeth staie.
Thou as a shadowe of my corps,
enduerst but little tyme:
A fadyng shadowe followes still
likewise the corps of myne.
Thou feble, sone doest fade and faile:
long maie not I remaine:
To duste and pouder thou must packe,
and so must I againe.
Bothe like as like maie be, but thou
livst merrier farre then I:
Thou livst and lovste not, loue makes me
a wretche to liue perdie.

Of his loue Cælia.

The fire doeth tame the iron harde,
harde flinte the waters pearce:
Warme bloud doeth breake the Adamant,
as sundrie bookes rehearse:
But she whom I doe serue (more harde:
then these repeted three)
Then Iron, Flint, or Adamant,
more rockie harde is she.
For ne my fire that burnes in breast,
ne teares from eyes that fall,
Nor spinnyng bloud from sanguine vaines,
maie make her rue her thrall.

58

Of Ioue.

A Swanne , a Bull, a Satyre wood,
and golde, was Ioue aboue:
For L. for E. for A. and D.
with whom he was in loue.

To the Reader.

Although not thee, I please my self,
thou reader maiest be gone:
Sufficient if the writers woorkes,
doe please hym self alone.

Of hym self.

Thou laughst, thou lowrst (both glad & sad)
thou bothe doest rest, and raynge:
Suche is the life a louer leads,
thou lovste, tis nothyng straynge.