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The Golden Aphroditis

A pleasant discourse, penned by John Grange ... Whereunto be annexed by the same Authour asvvell certayne Metres upon sundry poyntes, as also divers Pamphlets in prose, which he entituleth His Garden: pleasant to the eare, and delightful to the Reader, if he abuse not the scente of the floures
 

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His good night to the same A. T.
 

His good night to the same A. T.

I brone in griefe my towre of truste
to set Morpheus mace:
For needes it will deuide vs bothe
though for a litle space.
Yet can it not so litle be,
though for an howre or twayne,
But sure me thinkes it is a yeare,
asunder to remayne.
For goyng to thy naked bedde
thou goest to thy graue:
And euery thing resembleth right
the course whiche death doth craue.
Within thy face consistes my ioyes,
within thy harte my lyfe,
When death dothe call vpon thy corpse
then doe I ende my lyfe.
At night my ioyes beginne to ende,
by cause we must departe:
And dolefull dumpes oppresse my minde,
so lothe I am to starte.
And when of force departe we must,
with lingring steppes I goe:
For why thy sweete abode I wishe
whose wante doth breede my woe.
My heauy hart within my corpse
loth to departe doth daunce:


And in my moning mynde me thinkes
whole barkes of care doth launce.
Thy mewe it is a hauen of hope
whereto I cleaue and holde:
Holde Cable ropes, and Ancor faste
for hope dothe make me bolde.
Sith dryuen by drifte we must departe,
Morpheus thus muche graunt,
That all the night I dreame on hyr
whome in the day I haunt.
And that in liuely forme hyr face
before me may appeare,
So that I may perswade my selfe
shee were in presence here.
I would imbracyng in mine armes
I could my selfe perswade,
For sure it were a golden dreame
to walke in suche a shade.
Shall I not lull thee in my lappe
as well by night as day?
Though not, I hope thy harte fro mine
it will not goe astray.
For why I beare thee in my brest
and will while lyfe dothe laste,
My harte to thyne I vowe by othe
it shall be linked faste.
And lette one corpse two faythfull hartes
shrowde vp yea all in one.
We linger time and all in vayne
of force we must be gone.
Good night therefore, God sende you rest,
and eke Hartes ease at will.
God graunt your ioyes they may increase,
also the worlde at will.


In health the Goddes prolong thy lyfe,
of wealth to haue thy fill.
Good fame I say and good reporte,
according to their will.
With heauy cheere I bidde good night,
tyme calleth vs away:
Against my will we must departe,
and that without delay.