Ostella Or the Faction of Love and Beauty Reconcil'd ::

Ostella Or the Faction of Love and Beauty Reconcil'd

By I. T. [i.e. John Tatham]

Tatham, John (fl. 1632-1664)

[section]

Occasional Copies upon several SUBJECTS.

To a Mistris that told me, I could not live without her Love.

To a simply Coy Mistress.

To an imperiously proud Mistress, swell'd with my Praises.

Vpon the acquaintance of a Gallant Gentlewoman. To my self.

To a timorously willing Mistress.

Vpon my Noble friend, Richard Lovelace Esquire, his being in Holland. An Invitation.

To a Mistresse that thinks the sight without other enjoyment is Love sufficient.

To a vertuous Lady, on whom Envy had thrown a Scandal, for which she Mourned, and hung her Chamber with Blacks.

Spying Splendora through a Casement.

My Friend Paul Squire.

Seeing a Lady ------

An Occasional Frolick to an unknown Friend.

To a Gentlewoman that Loved me, and I not her.

Another upon the same.

A Dialogue.

To ------

To a Mistresse that bid me make another Choice.

To my self.

To the Deceiving Mistress.

To Mrs. J. H. upon my recovery of a fit of sickness.

To Mrs. I. H. upon the sight of a Marble Coverture or Statue in the Church.

A Frown.

Vpon my leaving off the Company of Hellena.

Songs in a Masque.

A Prologue spoken at the Cock-pit, at the coming of the Red-Bull Players thither.

A Prologue spoken at the Red-Bull to a Play called the Whisperer, or what you please.

On the Report of Master William Lawes his Death.

To my Mother, Mris. Dorothy Tatham, one of the Daughters of Christopher Percy of Manson in the County of Dorset, Esquire, then Iustice of Peace and Quorum, and High Sheriff of that County.

Vpon the Death of my Father.

Song.

To Cupid.

To the ------

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To the Deceiving Mistress.

Thine eyes shall be my Stars no more,
they have deceived me,
He madly doth his Death implore,
that seeks from them Security.

I thought they had been fixt on me,
but wand'ring Lights they prove:
The more they are admir'd in thee,
the more they love to gad and rove.

As though they would out-vy the Light,
contracted to the Day,
Until the Glory of the sight,
some simple Hearts like mine betray.

Yet boast not of that cruel Art,
that so out-witted mine:
For sure thou ne're hadst got my Heart,
had I not more than hop'd for thine.

I see there's Pollicy in Love:
the slower Men come on,
The faster your Desires do move,
'tis Madness You to dote upon.

For this sad Truth I boldly tell,
Experience finds it such,
That had not I lov'd half so well,
Thou hadst not hated me so much.

University of Virginia Library

To the Deceiving Mistress.