a monarch's glory,
Subdue her heart who makes me glad and sorry;
Out of thy golden quiver,
Take thou thy strongest arrow
That will through bone and marrow,
And me and thee of grief and fear deliver:
But come behind, for, if she look upon thee,
Alas! poor Love, then thou art woe-begone thee.

From THOMAS WEELKES' _Ballets and Madrigals_, 1598.

Sweet Love, I will no more abuse thee,
Nor with my voice accuse thee;
But tune my notes unto thy praise
And tell the world Love ne'er decays.
Sweet Love doth concord ever cherish:
What wanteth concord soon must perish.

From ROBERT JONES' _Ultimum Vale, or Third Book of Airs_ (1608).

Sweet Love, my only treasure,
For service long unfeigned
Wherein I nought have gained,
Vouchsafe this little pleasure,
To tell me in what part
My Lady keeps her heart.

If in her hair so slender,
Like golden nets entwined
Which fire and art have fined,
Her thrall my heart I render
For ever to abide
With locks so dainty tied.

If in her eyes she bind it,
Wherein that fire was framed
By which it is inflamed,
I dare not look to find it:
I only wish it sight
To see that pleasant light.

But if her breast have deigned
With kindness to receive it,
I am content to leave it
Though death thereby were gained:
Then, Lady, take your own
That lives by you alone.

From JOHN DOWLAND's _Pilgrim's Solace_, 1612. (The first stanza is found
in a poem of Donne.)

Sweet, stay awhile; why will you rise?
The light you see comes from your eyes;
The day breaks not, it is my heart,
To think that you and I must part.
O stay! or else my joys must die
And perish in their infancy.

Dear, let me die in this fair breast,
Far sweeter than the ph[oe]nix nest.
Love raise Desire by his sweet charms
Within this circle of thine arms!
And let thy blissful kisses cherish
Mine infant joys that else must perish.

From THOMAS VAUTOR's _Songs of divers Airs and Natures_, 1619.

_Tuwhoo, tuwhit, tuwhit, tuwhoo-o-o._

Sweet Suffolk owl, so trimly dight
With feathers like a lady bright,
Thou sing'st alone, sitting by night,
Te whit, te whoo!
Thy note, that forth so freely rolls,
With shrill command t