Poems By Thomas Carew |
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Another. A Lady rescued from death by a
Knight, who in the instant leaves her, complaines thus. |
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Another. A Lady rescued from death by a Knight, who in the instant leaves her, complaines thus.
Oh
whither is my fayre Sun fled,
Bearing his light, not heat away?
If thou repose in the moyst bed
Of the Sea-Queene, bring backe the day
To our darke clime, and thou shalt lye
Bath'd in the sea flowes from mine eye.
Bearing his light, not heat away?
If thou repose in the moyst bed
Of the Sea-Queene, bring backe the day
To our darke clime, and thou shalt lye
Bath'd in the sea flowes from mine eye.
Upon what whirlewind didst thou ride
Hence, yet remaine fixt in my heart,
From me, and to me; fled, and ty'de?
Darke riddles of the amorous art;
Love tent thee wings to flye so Hee
Vnfeather'd, now must rest with mee.
Hence, yet remaine fixt in my heart,
From me, and to me; fled, and ty'de?
Darke riddles of the amorous art;
Love tent thee wings to flye so Hee
Vnfeather'd, now must rest with mee.
Helpe, helpe, brave Youth, I burne, I bleed,
The cruell God with Bow and Brand
Pursues the life thy valour freed,
Disarme him with thy conquering hand;
And that thou mayest the wilde boy tame
Give me his dart, keepe Thou his flame.
The cruell God with Bow and Brand
Pursues the life thy valour freed,
Disarme him with thy conquering hand;
And that thou mayest the wilde boy tame
Give me his dart, keepe Thou his flame.
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