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Ayres and dialogues

For One, Two, and Three Voyces; To be Sung either to the theorbo-lute or basse-viol

Gamble, John

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To his Good Friend Mr. John Gamble on his COMPOSITIONS.

To his Honest Friend and Old Acquaintance Mr. John Gamble; upon his Musical Compositions, on several Poems.

A DEFENCE FOR MUSICK In its Practique and Theorie, occasioned upon the Publication of these Poems Composed by Mr. John Gamble :

Admired Beauty.

On Man's frailty.

The Haymaker's Song.

Advice to Cloris.

A Health to Bacchus.

Coyness in Love.

A Schismatick in Love.

Love pretended.

Love convinc'd.

Fortune Adored.

Love Enlightned.

Love decyphered.

Love disguis'd.

The Presbyters Gill.

To his Mistresse advising him from Wine.

The Deceiving Mistress.

How to chuse a Mistress.

The poor Scholar's Song.

Upon Recovery of a fit of Sickness.

His Mistriss bidding him make another choice.

To a Mistress that thinks the Sight without other Injoyment is Love sufficient.

The Country Man's Life.

To a simple Coy Mistress.

The Real Drinker.

Beauty and Love at ods.

Natural Beauty best.

Liberty breeds Presumption.

The true Sack-drinker.

Love Insatiable.

A Dialogue between Cloris and Doris.

A Dialogue between Lucasta and Alexis.

A Pastoral Dialogue.

Lilly Contemn'd.

The Vanity of Wealth.

Musick being heard in the dead Season of the Night.

A Dialogue between Castadorus and Arabella.

A Pastoral Dialogue.

A Dialogue between Thirsis and Dorinda.

A Dialogue between a Shepherd and a Nymph.

The contented Batchelor.

Bushels Myners.

Bacchus true Adorers.

An EPITHALAMIUM On the Nuptials of Thomas Stanley Esquire; And the Lady Dorothy Enion.

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Beauty and Love at ods.

Beauty and Love once fell at ods

Beauty and Love once fell at ods, and thus revil'd each other: Said Love, I am one of the gods, and you wait on my Mother: Thou hast no power ore Man at all, but what I gave to thee; nor art thou longer fair or sweet than men acknowledge thee. Away, Fond boy, then Beauty said, we know that thou art blind; but men have knowing eyes, and can thy graces better find: 'Twas I begot thee, Mortals know, and call'd thee Blind desire; I made thy Quiver and thy

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Bow, and Wings to kindle fire. Love then in anger flew away, and straight to Vulcan pray'd, that he would tip his shafts with Scorn to punish this proud Maid. Thus Beauty ever since hath been but courted for an hour, to Love a day is now a sin 'gainst Cupid and his pow'r.