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Resolves: Divine, Moral, Political

The Eighth Impression. With New and several other Additions Both in Prose and Verse Not Extant in the former Impressions. By Owen Felltham
Felltham, Owen (1602?-1668)
  
[epigraph]

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[section]
  
The Face of the Book, Unmasked.
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LUSORIA:
  
[dedication]
 I. 
I. True Happinesse.
 II. 
II. To the Lady D.S.
 III. 
III. The Sun and Wind.
 IV. 
IV. On the Duke of Buckingham slain by Felton, the 23. Aug. 1628.
 V. 
V. The Appeal.
 VI. 
VI. Elegie on Henry Earl of Oxford.
 VII. 
VII. On a Jewel given at parting.
 IX. 
IX. The Cause.
 X. 
X. The Vow-breach.
 XI. 
XI. The Sympathy.
 XII. 
XII. The Reconcilement.
 XIII. 
XIII. A Farewell.
 XIV. 
XIV. FUNEBRE VENETIANUM.
 XV. 
XV. An Epitaph on Robert Lord Spencer.
 XVI. 
XVI. The Spring in the Rock.
 XVII. 
XVII. The Amazement.
 XVIII. 
XVIII. An Epitaph on the Lady Mary Farmor.
 XIX. 
XIX. On a hopeful Youth.
 XX. 
XX. An Answer to the Ode of Come leave the loathed Stage, &c.
 XXI. 
XXI. To Phryne.
 XXII. 
XXII. To Mr. Dover on his Cotswold Games.
 XXIII. 
XXIII. On Sir Rowland Cotton, famous for Letters and other Parts.
 XXIV. 
XXIV. On a Gentlewoman, whose Nose was pitted with the Small Pox.
 XXV. 
XXV. Elegie on Mr. Fra. Leigh, who dyed of the Plague, May-day, 1637.
 XXVI. 
XXVI. SONG.
 XXVII. 
XXVII. Gunemastix.
 XXVIII. 
XXVIII. To the Painter taking the Picture of the Lady Penelope Countesse of Peterburgh.
 XXIX. 
XXIX. Upon a breach of Promise.
 XXX. 
XXX. To this written by a Gentlewoman, the Answer underneath was given.
 XXXI. 
XXXI. SONG.
 XXXII. 
XXXII. This ensuing Copy the late Printer hath been pleased to honour, by mistaking it among those of the most ingenious and too early lost, Sir John Suckling.
 XXXIII. 
XXXIII. SONG.
 XXXIV. 
XXXIV. Upon a rare Voice.
 XXXV. 
XXXV. Considerations of one design'd for a Nunnery.
 XXXVII. 
XXXVII. On Thomas Lord Coventry, Lord Keeper of the Great Seal of England, who dyed Decemb. 1640.
 XXXVIII. 
XXXVIII. Upon Abolishing the Feast of the Nativity of our blessed Saviour, Anno 1643.
 XXXIX. 
XXXIX. On Mr. Mynshull.
 XL. 
XL. AN EPITAPH
 XLI. 
XLI. On the Lady E. M.

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31

XXXIII. SONG.

Now (as I live) I love thee much,
And fain would love thee more,
Did I but know thy temper such,
As could give o're.
But to ingage thy Virgin-heart,
Then leave it in distresse,
Were to betray thy brave desert,
And make it lesse.
Were all the Eastern Treasures mine,
I'de pour them at thy feet:
But to invite a Prince to dine
With air, 's not meet.
No, let me rather pine alone,
Then if my fate prove coy,
I can dispence with grief my own,
While thou hast joy.
But if through my too niggard Fate
Thou shouldst unhappy prove,
I should grow mad and desperate
Through grief and love.
Since then though more I cannot love
Without thy injury;
As Saints that to an Altar move,
My thoughts shall be.
And think not that the flame is lesse,
For 'tis upon this score,
Were't not a love beyond excesse,
It might be more.
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