 | Wit A Sporting In a pleasant Grove Of New Fancies |  |
45
An Elegiack Sonnet.
If
I onely had been he,
That had stood so far aloofe,
Or had been such Armour proof,
Dide I had not as you see,
Shot by womans Iealousie.
That had stood so far aloofe,
Or had been such Armour proof,
Dide I had not as you see,
Shot by womans Iealousie.
Wretched Woman why should Thou
Dote so much on Idol beauty,
Deeming only fit to sute thee
When it is not one nor two,
Nor a thousand more will do?
Dote so much on Idol beauty,
Deeming only fit to sute thee
When it is not one nor two,
Nor a thousand more will do?
Yet love loves not these exchanges,
Love is constant, firme and pure,
Drawn by no eye-charming lure;
It is lust that onely ranges,
Where new love old love estranges.
Love is constant, firme and pure,
Drawn by no eye-charming lure;
It is lust that onely ranges,
Where new love old love estranges.
What is life then but a farm,
And the best a farmer is
Of this life he counts a bliss,
Whree true love sustaines no harme,
Nere engag't to Fancies charme!
And the best a farmer is
Of this life he counts a bliss,
Whree true love sustaines no harme,
Nere engag't to Fancies charme!
| Wit A Sporting In a pleasant Grove Of New Fancies | |