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Ostella Or the Faction of Love and Beauty Reconcil'd

By I. T. [i.e. John Tatham]

Tatham, John (fl. 1632-1664)

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Occasional Copies upon several SUBJECTS.

To a Mistris that told me, I could not live without her Love.

To a simply Coy Mistress.

To an imperiously proud Mistress, swell'd with my Praises.

Vpon the acquaintance of a Gallant Gentlewoman. To my self.

Crying and Laughing.

To Mistress S. W.

To a timorously willing Mistress.

Vpon my Noble friend, Richard Lovelace Esquire, his being in Holland. An Invitation.

To a Mistresse that thinks the sight without other enjoyment is Love sufficient.

To a vertuous Lady, on whom Envy had thrown a Scandal, for which she Mourned, and hung her Chamber with Blacks.

Spying Splendora through a Casement.

My Friend Paul Squire.

Seeing a Lady ------

An Occasional Frolick to an unknown Friend.

To a Gentlewoman that Loved me, and I not her.

Another upon the same.

To a Mistresse that bid me make another Choice.

To the Deceiving Mistress.

Lycoris a Rapture.

Lycoris weeping.

To Mrs. J. H. upon my recovery of a fit of sickness.

To Mrs. I. H. upon the sight of a Marble Coverture or Statue in the Church.

Vpon my leaving off the Company of Hellena.

Songs in a Masque.

A Prologue spoken at the Cock-pit, at the coming of the Red-Bull Players thither.

A Prologue spoken at the Red-Bull to a Play called the Whisperer, or what you please.

On the Report of Master William Lawes his Death.

To my Mother, Mris. Dorothy Tatham, one of the Daughters of Christopher Percy of Manson in the County of Dorset, Esquire, then Iustice of Peace and Quorum, and High Sheriff of that County.

Vpon the Death of my Father.

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To a simply Coy Mistress.

What though I did swear your eye,
had enough to take a heart,
Yet from mine I will not part.
I have read Loves sophistry:
for know proud, I nere was born,
To endure your sexes scorn.

Though I you a Lilly swore,
yet the Violets azur'd hue,
is for use more priz'd than you:
Nor will I those lips adore,
since the Cherries, trees do bear,
Are far sweeter than yours are.

Though I prais'd your swelling Brest,
yet the Grape or Gooseberry,
yeild a juyce more savoury:
Nor will I again protest
to an Out-side, 'till I know,
'Tis for tast as well as show.