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The History of Polindor and Flostella

With Other Poems. By I. H. [i.e. John Harington] The third Edition, Revised and much Enlarged
(1627?-1700)

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POEMS.
  
THE AUTHORS First DREAM of FLOSTELLA,
  
On FLOSTELLAS' Close Nun-like Retirement.
  
FLOSTELLAS Nunlike Coynesse
  
The Author's second Dreame of FLOSTELLAS Morning-Walk.
  
FLOSTELLAS Lute.
  
FLOSTELLAS Hand and Glove.
  
The Authors third Dream of FLOSTELLAS Evening Walk, and Voyce.
  
FLOSTELLA and the Nightingale.
  
CRESSAS Funerall, the Love of DIFLORIS.
  
Song. Scornfulness.
  
The Goodmorrow.
  
Lovers mixt Weather.
  
The Spring-time.
  
The Face and Glass.
  
Presence.
  
Absence.
  
Beauty.
  
SONG. A French Villanell Englished. Il y a dans ce Village, &c.
  
EPITAPH On a young Lady.
  
SONG. Hero and Leander: Fram'd after that of Dido was a Carthage Queen, &c.
  
English'd out of Montemayor in Spanish. On Leander Leandro Amoroso Fuego ardia, &c.
  
Another English'd out of Montemayor, in Spanish: On a coy Mistress. Los Oios no peccaron en Miraros, &c.
  
Happiness.
  
English'd out of Petrark, in Italian. On his first view of LAURA. Era'l giorno, ch' al Sol si scoloraro, &c.
  
Another English'd out of Petrarch in Italian: On LAURA veyl'd. Lassare il Velo Oper Sole, O per Ombra, &c.
  
The doubting Lover.
  
The Despairing Lover.
  
English'd out of Montemayor, in Spanish. On a Pastorall Lover. Estava Lusitano repastando.
  
The Offering.
  
The Complaint.
  
Mutual Love, Conjugall.
  
Constancy.

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182

SONG. A French Villanell Englished. Il y a dans ce Village, &c.

1

In this Village lives Inshrined
The faire Saint my thoughts adore:
Paris, 'midst her Beauteous store,
Shewes me nought so Faire, refined:
Ah, ah, how sweet it is,
Wer't to Dye for thee my Bliss!

2

All times shall I serve, admire
Her law-giving Lips and Eyes;
More then King my self I prize
In this new-rays'd Love-desire:
Ah, ah, how sweet it is,
Wer't to Dye for thee my Bliss!

3

Truth it is, so dearly seizing
Proves her Beauties charming grace,
Less my Liberty I praise
Then this Servitude so pleasing:
Ah, ah, how sweet it is,
Wer't to Dye for thee, my Bliss!

4

I not know the artfull Passion
Other flattering Lovers vent;
But for all deep Complement,
Make my Faire this protestation;
Ah, ah, sweet it is
Wer't to Dye, for thee my Bliss.
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