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Another of his Cinthia.
Away with these selfe-louing-Lads,
Whom Cupids arrowe neuer glads.
Away poore soules that sigh and weepe,
In loue of them that lie and sleepe,
For Cupid is a Meadow God:
And forceth none to kisse the rod.
Whom Cupids arrowe neuer glads.
Away poore soules that sigh and weepe,
In loue of them that lie and sleepe,
For Cupid is a Meadow God:
And forceth none to kisse the rod.
God Cupids shaft like destenie,
Dooth eyther good or ill decree.
Desert is borne out of his bowe,
Reward vpon his feete doth goe.
What fooles are they that haue not knowne,
That Loue likes no lawes but his owne?
Dooth eyther good or ill decree.
Desert is borne out of his bowe,
What fooles are they that haue not knowne,
That Loue likes no lawes but his owne?
My songs they be of Cinthias prayse,
I weare her Rings on Holly-dayes,
On euery Tree I write her name,
And euery day I reade the same.
Where Honor Cupids riuall is:
There miracles are seene of his.
I weare her Rings on Holly-dayes,
On euery Tree I write her name,
And euery day I reade the same.
Where Honor Cupids riuall is:
There miracles are seene of his.
If Cinthia craue her ring of mee,
I blot her name out of the tree.
If doubt doe darken things held deere:
Then welfare nothing once a yeere.
For many run, but one must win:
Fooles onely hedge the Cuckoe in.
I blot her name out of the tree.
If doubt doe darken things held deere:
Then welfare nothing once a yeere.
For many run, but one must win:
Fooles onely hedge the Cuckoe in.
The worth that worthines should moue,
Is loue, which is the due of loue.
And loue as well the Sheepheard can,
As can the mightie Noble man.
Sweet Nimph tis true you worthy be,
Yet without loue, nought worth to me.
Is loue, which is the due of loue.
And loue as well the Sheepheard can,
As can the mightie Noble man.
Sweet Nimph tis true you worthy be,
Yet without loue, nought worth to me.
FINIS.
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