Drawes wide the curtaines which eclips'd her worth,
And then she surely thinks she sees his face,
(For none but his could glory of such grace)
The same maiesticke courage which was wont
To place it selfe vpon his gracefull front;
That speaking cheeke, and that same sparkling eie;
That powrfull arme, and that same lustie thie;
With all those parts, so well compact together,
That Nature erd in all for him, or rather
Some higher power concurr'd to beautifie
So sweet a patterne of humanitie:
For neuer Nature (since the world began)
Could shew so true a perfect well shap't man.
While these conceits busi'd her wit-fraught braine,
Poore _Philos_, who imagines through disdaine
She will not speake, in these words doth beseech,
She will transforme her breath into her speech:
Natures chiefe wonder, and the worlds bright eie,
Which shrowds _Elysium_ in humanitie,
_Idea_ of all blisse, oh let me heare
Those well tun'd accents which thy lips do beare:
Pronounce my life or death: if death it be,
Thrise happy death, the which proceeds from thee.
O let those corall lips inricht with blisses,
A while forbeare such loue-steept amourous kisses,
And part themselues, to story to mine eares
The sad misfortune which my poore heart feares.
If all my loue must be repayd with hate,
And I ordaind to be vnfortunate;
If my poore heart being consecrate to thee,
(Where thy sweet image sits in maiestie)
Must turne to ruine; and my teere-spent eies
Wholly possest with gripple auarice,
Hourding the riches of the blessed sight
Which they haue stolne from thee, must shade in night
Their deerest chrystals of vnualued price,
Since they haue glassd themselues within thine eies:
Yet let me craue one happy-making boone,
Though farre too worthy for so meane a groome,
That thine owne voice may swanlike (ere I die)
Relate the storie of my miserie.
Poore _Licia_ fain would speake, & faine would tell him
He needs not doubt, for she well doth loue him;
Yet fearing he (as Chapmen vse to doo)
Would hold aloofe, if Sellers gin to woo,
Her tongue entreats of her vnwilling heart,
She may a while forbeare, and not impart
Her loue-sicke passions to his couetous minde,
Lest he disdainfull proue, and so vnkinde.
O wonder worker (Loue) how thou doest force
Our selues against our selues! and by that course
Seem'st to erect great Trophies in our brests,
By whic
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