A Strappado for the Diuell Epigrams and Satyres alluding to the time, with diuers measures of no lesse Delight. By MISOSUKOS[Greek], to his friend PHILOKRATES[Greek] [by Richard Brathwait] |
 |
|
 |
|
Admetus Sonnet. |
|
|
|
 | A Strappado for the Diuell |  |
Admetus Sonnet.
Neighbour
Swaines and Swainelins heare me,
“Its Admetus bids you heare,
Leaue your Pastures, and come neere mee,
“Come away you need not feare,
By my soule, as I affect you,
I haue nought that can infect you.
O then come,
Heare a tongue,
That in discord keepes a part,
With a Woe-surcharged heart.
“Its Admetus bids you heare,
Leaue your Pastures, and come neere mee,
“Come away you need not feare,
By my soule, as I affect you,
I haue nought that can infect you.
O then come,
Heare a tongue,
That in discord keepes a part,
With a Woe-surcharged heart.
Nere was Swaine on plaine more loued,
Or could doe more feats then I,
Yet one griefe hath now remoued,
All my whilome iollity.
All my Laies be quite forgotten,
Sheepe-hooke broken, pipe-bagge rotten,
O then come,
Heare a tongue.
That with flattering speech doth call,
To take long farewell of all.
Or could doe more feats then I,
Yet one griefe hath now remoued,
All my whilome iollity.
All my Laies be quite forgotten,
Sheepe-hooke broken, pipe-bagge rotten,
O then come,
Heare a tongue.
That with flattering speech doth call,
To take long farewell of all.
98
I am not as once I was,
When Eliza first did suite me,
Nor when that same red-hair'd lasse,
Faire Bellina did inuite me,
To a Garden there to play,
Cull, kisse, clip, and toy all day,
O then come,
Heare a tongue,
That inwooing termes was flowing,
But through Wo has spoil'd his woing.
When Eliza first did suite me,
Nor when that same red-hair'd lasse,
Faire Bellina did inuite me,
To a Garden there to play,
Cull, kisse, clip, and toy all day,
O then come,
Heare a tongue,
That inwooing termes was flowing,
But through Wo has spoil'd his woing.
All I can or will desire ye
When my breath of life is spent,
That in loue you would interre me,
(For it will my soule content,)
Neare vnto my Fathers hearse,
And bestow some comely verse
On my Tombe,
Then my tongue
Shall throb out this last adeu,
Nere were truer swaines then you.
When my breath of life is spent,
That in loue you would interre me,
(For it will my soule content,)
Neare vnto my Fathers hearse,
And bestow some comely verse
On my Tombe,
Then my tongue
Shall throb out this last adeu,
Nere were truer swaines then you.
| A Strappado for the Diuell | |