 | Ayres and dialogues |  |
19
To a Lady putting off her veile.
Keep on your veile & hide your eye,
for with beholding you I dye,
your fatall Beauty Gorgon like,
dead with astonishment will strike,
your piercing eyes, if them I see,
are worse then Basilisks to me.
for with beholding you I dye,
your fatall Beauty Gorgon like,
dead with astonishment will strike,
your piercing eyes, if them I see,
are worse then Basilisks to me.
Hide from my sight those Hils of Snow,
Their melting Vally do not show;
Those Azure paths lead to dispair,
O vex me not, forbear, forbear;
For while I thus in torments dwell
The sight of Heav'n is worse then Hell.
Their melting Vally do not show;
Those Azure paths lead to dispair,
O vex me not, forbear, forbear;
For while I thus in torments dwell
The sight of Heav'n is worse then Hell.
Your dainty voice and warbling breath
Sounds like a sentence past for death,
Your dangling tresses are become
Like Instruments of finall doome;
O if an Angell torture so!
When life is done, where shall I go?
Sounds like a sentence past for death,
Your dangling tresses are become
Like Instruments of finall doome;
O if an Angell torture so!
When life is done, where shall I go?
| Ayres and dialogues | |