h tapestry instead
of paper.

<37.13> So MS.; original has A.

<37.14> An allusion to the fable of Jupiter and Ganymede.

<37.15> MIX'D WITH DROPPINGE SNOW--MS.

<37.16> This and the succeeding line are not in MS.

<37.17> This and the six following lines are not in MS.

<37.18> Here we have a figure, which reminds us of Jonson's famous
lines on the Countess of Pembroke; but certainly in this instance
the palm of superiority is due to Lovelace, whose conception of
Time having his scythe snatched from him is bolder and finer than
that of the earlier and greater poet.

THE SCRUTINIE.
SONG.
SET BY MR. THOMAS CHARLES.<38.1>

I.
Why shouldst thou<38.2> sweare I am forsworn,
Since thine I vow'd to be?
Lady, it is already Morn,
And 'twas last night I swore to thee
That fond impossibility.

II.
Have I not lov'd thee much and long,
A tedious twelve moneths<38.3> space?
I should<38.4> all other beauties wrong,
And rob thee of a new imbrace;
Should<38.5> I still dote upon thy face.

III.
Not but all joy in thy browne haire
In<38.6> others may be found;
But I must search the black and faire,
Like skilfulle minerallists that sound
For treasure in un-plow'd-up<38.7> ground.

IV.
Then if, when I have lov'd my<38.8> round,
Thou prov'st the pleasant she;
With spoyles<38.9> of meaner beauties crown'd,
I laden will returne to thee,
Ev'n sated with varietie.

<38.1> This poem appears in WITS INTERPRETER, by John Cotgrave,
ed. 1662, p. 214, under the title of "On his Mistresse,
who unjustly taxed him of leaving her off."

<38.2> So Cotgrave. LUCASTA reads SHOULD YOU.

<38.3> So Cotgrave. This is preferable to HOURS, the reading in LUCASTA.

<38.4> So Cotgrave. LUCASTA reads MUST.

<38.5> So Cotgrave. LUCASTA has COULD.

<38.6> So Cotgrave. LUCASTA reads BY.

<38.7> UNBIDDEN--Cotgrave.

<38.8> THEE--Cotgrave.

<38.9> IN SPOIL--Cotgrave.

PRINCESSE LOYSA<39.1> DRAWING.

I saw a little Diety,
MINERVA in epitomy,
Whom VENUS, at first blush, surpris'd,
Tooke for her winged wagge disguis'd.
But viewing then, whereas she made
Not a distrest, but lively shade
Of ECCHO whom he had betrayd,
Now wanton, and ith' coole oth' Sunne
With her delight a hunting gone,
And thousands more, whom he had slaine;
To live and love, belov'd againe:
Ah! this is tr