Natures Embassie Or, The Wilde-mans Measvres: Danced naked by twelve Satyres, with sundry others continued in the next Section [by Richard Brathwait] |
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 | Natures Embassie |  |
244
THE NIGHTINGALL.
2. ODE.
Ivg
, IVg; faire fall the Nightingall,
Whose tender breast
Chants out her merrie Madrigall,
With hawthorne prest:
Te'u, Te'u, thus sings she euen by euen,
And represents the melodie in heauen;
T'is, T'is
I am not as I wish.
Whose tender breast
Chants out her merrie Madrigall,
With hawthorne prest:
Te'u, Te'u, thus sings she euen by euen,
And represents the melodie in heauen;
T'is, T'is
I am not as I wish.
Rape-defiled Phylomel
In her sad mischance,
Tells what she is forc'd to tell,
While the Satyres dance:
Vnhappie I, quoth she, vnhappie I,
That am betraide by Tereus trecherie;
T'is, T'is,
I am not as I wish:
In her sad mischance,
Tells what she is forc'd to tell,
While the Satyres dance:
Vnhappie I, quoth she, vnhappie I,
That am betraide by Tereus trecherie;
T'is, T'is,
I am not as I wish:
Chast-vnchast, defloured, yet
Spotlesse in heart,
Lust was all that He could get,
For all his art:
For I nere attention lent
To his suite, nor gaue consent:
T'is, T'is,
I am not as I wish.
Spotlesse in heart,
Lust was all that He could get,
For all his art:
For I nere attention lent
To his suite, nor gaue consent:
T'is, T'is,
I am not as I wish.
245
Thus hath faithlesse Tereus made
Heartlesse Phylomele
Mone her in her forlorne shade,
Where griefe I feele:
Griefe that wounds me to the heart,
Which though gone, hath left her smart;
T'is, T'is,
I am not as I wish.
Heartlesse Phylomele
Mone her in her forlorne shade,
Where griefe I feele:
Griefe that wounds me to the heart,
Which though gone, hath left her smart;
T'is, T'is,
I am not as I wish.
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