University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
Ayres, and dialogues

for one, two, and three voyces. The third book
 
[dedication]

collapse section
[section]
 
To his Honoured Friend Mr. HENRY LAWES, Upon his Annual Book of AYRES.
collapse section
[Ayres for One Voyce]
 
Chloris landing at Berlington.
 
Constancy protested.
 
Counsel to a Maid.
 
Love despis'd.
 
[Come fil's a cup of Sherry]
 
Hopelesse love cur'd by derision.
 
A young Maids Resolution.
 
Cupid no god.
 
Inconstancy return'd.
 
His Rivals danger.
 
To his Platonick Mistris.
 
Amintors welladay.
 
Affection for a Lady he never saw.
 
Freedome from Charmes.
 
Future Hope.
 
On a Black Ribbon.
 
A Resolution to love no more.
 
Cupids Artillery.
 
A Lady to a young Courtier.
 
Falshood discovered.
 
Liberty.
 
A Pot of Flowers presented to Chloris.
 
A doubt resolv'd.
 
To the first object of Content.
 
A Recantation.
 
A description of Chloris.
 
Chloris a constant comfort.
 
Inconstancy.
 
Amintor's Dream.
 
Chloris dead, lamented by Amintor.
collapse section
[Ayres for Two Voyces]
 
A Dialogue on a Kisse.
 
A Dialogue between a Lover and his Friend.
 
A Dialogue. Strephon—Amaryllis.
 
A Dialogue. Cleander—Floramell.
collapse section
Short Ayres for One, Two, or Three Voyces.
 
[Once Venus Cheeks that sham'd the Morn]
 
[I have prais'd with all my skill]
 
[When doth Love set forth Desire?]
 
[Trust the Form of Ayrie things]
 
[Deer, throw that Flatt'ring Glass away]
 
[Do not delay me though you have the pow'r ages to stay me]
 
[If you can find a heart (Sweet Love)]
 
[Sure thou framed wert by Art]
 
[O Phœbus, cleer thy face]
 
[I Prethee send me back my heart]

collapse section Collapse All | Expand All expand section
previous section Ayres, and dialogues
next section
5

Love despis'd.

[I]

In love? Away, You do me wrong,
I hope I ha' not liv'd so long
Free from the treach'ry of your Eyes,
Now to be caught and made a prize:
No, Lady, 'tis not all your Art
Can make me and my freedome part.

II

In Love! 'tis true, with Spanish wine,
Or the French juice Incarnadine,
But truly not with your sweet face,
This dimple, or that hidden grace;
Ther's far more sweetnesse in pure wine,
Then in those lips or eyes of thine.

III

Your god you say can shoot so right
Hee'l wound a heart i'th darkest night;
Pray let him throw away a dart,
And try if he can hit my heart:
No Cupid, if I shall be thine,
Turn Ganimed, and fill us wine.
previous section Ayres, and dialogues
next section