Amorea, The Lost Lover :: :: University of Virginia Library

Amorea, The Lost Lover

Or The Idea of Love and Misfortune. Being Poems, Sonets, Songs, Odes, Pastoral, Elegies, Lyrick Poems, and Epigrams. Never before printed. Written by Pathericke Jenkin

Jenkyn, Pathericke

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To his ever Honoured friend Mr P. I. on his Amorea.

To my dear friend Mr. P. J. on his Amorea.

To his Ingenious Friend Mr. P. J. on his Poems of the King's Return.

To his esteemed friend Mr. P. J. On his Poems.

To his Dear Brother, on his Amorea.

To my dear friend on his Amorea

To his Dear and ever honoured freind Mr. P. J. on his Poems.

To his dear and ever Honoured friend Mr. P. J. On his Poems.

To my dear friend on his Amorea.

To his ever friend Mr P. J. On his Poems.

To Mr P. J. on his Amorea.

To Amorea on his going to Sea.

His Inducement to Love.

To Amorea from Prison.

The Authors danger, and deliverance.

Hopeless Affection.

Under his Mistress's Picture.

On his departing.

A Fancie on Courting.

On the Curtain of his Mistress's Picture.

Writ on her Lute.

To his Dream.

Commanded to conceal his Love.

The Phenix.

Loves Elegie.

On his Quondum Mistress.

Hespelon, and Amorea.

On the five Senses.

Loves Liberty.

A Dream.

His complaint to the Groves.

To his Ingenuous Friend, J. P. Esq; on Limbing.

A Fancie.

A Contention between a Poet and a Limner.

A Pastorall Poem.

To Amorea on his going to Travell.

Writ at Sea.

To Cloris, imploring a revenge.

In praise of Sack.

A SONG.

On loving of two.

The Shadow.

To Amorea walking in her Garden.

To Mr. James Sherley on his playes.

On the perfection of Beauty.

To his unconstant Mistress.

An Elegie on the Death of the Princess Royal.

To Phyla.

The difference between a Lute, and a Via

The Change.

To Amorea.

On the Inequalletie of Marraige.

On the Death of his Mistress.

On His Sacred MAJESTIES haypy Restauration.

To the most Honoured Sir James Smith Knight, On his many favours received.

To Celinda.

EPIGRAMS.

To his little Book.

On the Contents of his Book, to the Readers.

ERATA.

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A SONG.

I cannot say you are forsworn,
Since you have proved true,
And yet I think my self forlorn,
VVhen by your actions still I view,
Your fancy's ranging for a new.

'Tis true, you loved me a while,
But soon your love was cold,
Then think no more on Beauties guile,
For your embraces are grown old,
And have no force my heart to hold.

I see the Treasures of that face,
VVhich once I doted on
Is to be found in every place,
And all the fleeting graces gone,
There's nothing left to look upon.

Yet when you 'ave seen the worlds store,
And where the Beauties be,
Reclaim your self, Ile ask no more,
But am content the spoiles to see
Alone devoted unto me.