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Loves martyr

or, Rosalins complaint. Allegorically shadowing the truth of Loue, in the constant Fate of the Phoenix and Turtle. A Poeme enterlaced with much varietie and raritie; now first translated out of the uenerable Italian Torquato Caeliano, by Robert Chester. With the true legend of famous King Arthur, the last of the nine Worthies, being the first Essay of a new British Poet: collected out of diuerse Authenticall Records. To these are added some new compositions, of seuerall moderne Writers whose names are subscribed to their seuerall workes, upon the first Subiect: viz. the Phoenix and Turtle
Chester, Robert (1566-1640)

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[section]
  
[dedication]
  
The Authors request to the Phœnix.
  
To the kind Reader.
  
ROSALINS COMPLAINT, METAPHORICALLY applied to Dame Nature at a Parliament held (in the high Star-chamber) by the Gods, for the preseruation and increase of Earths beauteous Phœnix.
  
A Prayer made for the prosperitie of a siluer coloured Doue, applyed to the beauteous Phœnix.
  
To those of light beleefe.
  
A meeting Dialogue-wise betweene Nature, the Phœnix, and the Turtle Doue.
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Here followeth the Birth, Life and Death of honourable Arthur King of Brittaine.
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[A DIALOGUE]
  
Cantoes Alphabet-wise to faire Phœnix made by the Paphian Doue.
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Cantoes Uerbally written.
 1. 
1. Pittie me that dies for thee.
 2. 
2. My life you saue, if you I haue.
 3. 
3. Do thou by me, as I by thee.
 4. 
4. Voutsafe to thinke how I do pine, In louing thee that art not mine.
 5. 
5. My destinie to thee is knowne, Cure thou my smart, I am thine owne.
 6. 
6. Ore my heart your eyes do idolatrize.
 7. 
7. I had rather loue though in vaine that face, Then haue of any other grace.
 8. 
8. What euer fall, I am at call.
 9. 
9. I had rather loue, though in vaine that face, Then haue of any other grace
 10. 
10. Disgrace not me, in louing thee.
 11. 
11. I had rather loue though in vaine that face, Then haue of any other grace.
 12. 
12. My selfe and mine, are alwayes thine.
 13. 
13. The darting of your eies, may heale or wound, Let not empiring lookes my heart confound.
 14. 
14. You are my ioy, be not so coy.
 15. 
15. For you I die, being absent from mine eye.
 16. 
16. Send me your heart, to ease my smart.
 17. 
17. Seeing you haue mine, let me haue thine.
 18. 
18. Within thy brest, my hart doth rest.
 19. 
19. O let me heare, from thee my deare.
 20. 
20. My Phœnix rare, is all my care.
 21. 
21. I would I might, be thy delight.
 22. 
22. If I you haue, none else I craue.
 23. 
23. Be you to me, as I to thee.
 24. 
24. You are the first, in whom I trust.
 25. 
25. You are the last my loue shall taste.
 26. 
26. If you I had, I should be glad.
 27. 
27. Though place be far, my heart is nar.
 28. 
28. My thoughts are dead, cause thou art sped.
 29. 
29. I send my heart to thee, where gladly I would be.
 30. 
30. If you me iust haue knowne, Then take me for your owne.
 31. 
31. My heart I send, to be your friend.
 32. 
32. I haue no loue, but you my Doue.
 34. 
34. I will not change, though some be strange.
  
Thoughts keepe me waking.
  
Seeing that my hart made choise of thee, Then frame thy selfe to comfort me.
  
My heart is bound to fauour thee, Then yeeld in time to pittie me.
  
I ioy to find a constant mind.
  
My heart by hope doth liue, Desire no ioy doth giue.
  
Death shall take my life away, Before my friendship shall decay.
  
Let truth report what hart I beare, To her that is my dearest deare.
  
Seene hath the eye, chosen hath the hart: Firme is the faith, and loth to depart.
  
No woe so great in loue, not being heard, No plague in loue, being long deferd.
  
And if my loue shall be releeu'd by thee, My heart is thine, and so account of me.
  
My passions are a hell and death to me, Vnlesse you feele remorce and pitie me.
  
My purest loue doth none but thee adore, My heartie thoughts are thine, I loue no more.
  
I do resolue to loue no loue but thee, Therefore be kind, and fauour none but me.
  
[Ah quoth she, but where is true Loue?]
  
Though death from life my bodie part, Yet neare the lesse keepe thou my hart.
  
Where hearts agree, no strife can be.
  
Thy vowes my loue and heart hath wonne, Till thy vntruth hath it vndonne.
  
Time shall tell thee, how well I loue thee
  
Most deuine and sacred, Haue I found your loue vnspotted.
  
The want of thee is death to me.
  
I loue to be beloued.
  
I scorne if I be scorned.
  
The heart's in paine, that loues in vaine.
  
What greater ioy can be then this, Where loue enioyes each louers wish?

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My passions are a hell and death to me,
Vnlesse you feele remorce and pitie me.

My sweetest thoughts sweet loue to thee I send,
Passions deeply ingrafted, vnremouable
Are my affections, and I must commend
A stedfast trust in thee most admirable:
Hell round enwraps my bodie by disdaine,
And then a heauen if thou loue againe.
Death haunts me at the heeles, yet is affraid,
To touch my bosome, knowing thou lou'st me,
Me sometimes terrifying by him betraid,
Vnlesse sweete helpfull succour come from thee:
You well I know, the honor of mine eie,
Feele some remorcefull helpe in miserie.
Remorce sits on thy brow triumphantly,
And smiles vpon my face with gentle cheere;
Pittie, loues gracious mother dwels in thee,
Me fauouring, abandoning base feare,
Death is amazed, viewing of thy beautie,
Thinking thy selfe perfect eternitie.
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