University of Virginia Library

Pilumnus Epilogizes.
All Loves are happy, none with us there bee,
Now sick of coynesse, or unconstancy.
The wealthy summes of Kisses doe amount
To greater scores then curious art can count!
Each eye is fix'd upon his Mistris face,
And every arme is lockt in some embrace.
Each cheeke is dimpled; every lip doth smile:
Such happinesse I wish this blessed Isle,
This little world of Lovers: and least you
Should think this blisse no reall joyes, nor true,
Would every Lady in this orbe might see
Their Loves as happy as we say they be!
And for you gentle youths, whose tender hearts
Are not shot proofe 'gainst love and Cupids darts;
These are my Prayrs, (I would those prayrs were charmes)
That each had here his Mistrisse in his armes.
True Lovers, (for tis truth gives love delight)
To you our Authors only means to wright.
If he have pleas'd (as yet he doubtfull stands)
For his applause clap lips instead of Hands.
He beggs nor Bayes, nor Ivy; only this,
Seale his wisht Plaudite with an amorous Kisse.

Exeunt Cantantes.