The Phanseys of William Cavendish Marquis of Newcastle addressed to Margaret Lucas and her Letters in reply: Edited by Douglas Grant |
The Phanseys of William Cavendish Marquis of Newcastle | ||
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The Lyrick Poett
The Lyrick Poett Nightingale,
With love's songs shee doth never faile
To warble forth love's sevrall Passions,
With fine Expressions, sundry fashions,
To make her love sick Male hopp to her,
With love's sighs bowing so to wooe her.
With love's songs shee doth never faile
To warble forth love's sevrall Passions,
With fine Expressions, sundry fashions,
To make her love sick Male hopp to her,
With love's sighs bowing so to wooe her.
The Gentle Natur'd spoted Thrushe
Such languadge Utters in her bushe
As doth astonish those that heare her;
Her lover then drawes somewhat neer her,
With homage to her that sitts higher,
Not Venter till shee calls him nigher.
Such languadge Utters in her bushe
As doth astonish those that heare her;
Her lover then drawes somewhat neer her,
With homage to her that sitts higher,
Not Venter till shee calls him nigher.
The Litle Bulfinche doth Expresse
That love in her is no whitt lesse;
Love's languadge both can speake and singe.
Her lover moves with fluttring winge;
Dansinge on tender bowes so light,
Enamour'd kills him with the sight.
That love in her is no whitt lesse;
Love's languadge both can speake and singe.
Her lover moves with fluttring winge;
Dansinge on tender bowes so light,
Enamour'd kills him with the sight.
The lovely Blackbird in her throate
With trilloes sweetens Evry note;
Arcadian love discourses then
Beyond our high borne Sydne's penne.
And I dare sweare, were their loves knowne,
Language and witt putts downe our owne.
With trilloes sweetens Evry note;
Arcadian love discourses then
Beyond our high borne Sydne's penne.
And I dare sweare, were their loves knowne,
Language and witt putts downe our owne.
The Phanseys of William Cavendish Marquis of Newcastle | ||