m. 
 
 
THE 
 
 WILLIAM R. PERKINS 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 DUKE UNIVERSITY 
 
 Rare Books 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2011 with funding from 
 Duke University Libraries 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/fiftysongsOOcamp 
 
FIFTY SONGS BY 
 THOMAS CAMPION 
 
CONTENTS. 
 I care not for these Ladies 
 My sweetest Lesbia, let us live and love 
 My love hath vow'd heewill forsake mee 
 Turne backe, you w^anton flyer 
 It fell on a sommer's day 
 Thou art not faire, for all thy red G" white 
 Blame not my cheeks . 
 Mistris, since you so much desire . 
 When thou must home to shades of under 
 
 ground ..... 
 And would you sec my Mistris* face 
 Shall I come, if I swim.^ wide are the 
 
 waves you see 
 What then is love but mourning .'' . 
 Whether men doe laugh or weepe 
 Jacke and Jone they thinke no ill 
 Harden now^ thy tyred hart w^ith more 
 
 then flinty rage 
 What harvest halfc so sweet is 
 Swreet, exclude mee not, nor be divided 
 There is none, O none but you 
 Come away, arm'd with Love's delights 
 Come, you pretty, false^ey'd wanton 
 A secret love or two I must confesse 
 Now let her change 6> spare not . 
 Were my hart as some men's are . 
 Maydes are simple, some men say . 
 Kinde are her answeres. 
 If love loves truth, then women doc not 
 
 love ..... 
 Now w^inter nights enlarge . 
 Awake, thou spring of speaking grace 
 ii 
 
 V 
 
 vii 
 
 viii 
 
 ix 
 
 X 
 
 xi 
 
 xii 
 
 xiii 
 
 xiv 
 
 XV 
 
 xvi 
 
 xvii 
 
 xviii 
 
 xix 
 
 XX 
 
 xxi 
 
 xxii 
 
 xxiii 
 
 xxiv 
 
 XXV 
 
 xxvi 
 
 xxvii 
 
 xxviii 
 
 xxix 
 
 XXX 
 
 xxxi 
 
 xxxii 
 xxxiii 
 
C\^.6f^ 
 
 What is it all that men posscssc among 
 
 themselves conversing . . . xxxiv 
 
 If thou longst so much to learne xxxv 
 
 Shall I come, sweet Love, to thee . . xxxvii 
 Xhrice tosse these Oaken ashes in the 
 
 ayre ...... xxxviii 
 
 Fire, Fire, Fire, Fire, .... xxxix 
 
 Thus I resolve, and time hath taught me 
 
 so ...... . xl 
 
 Come, O come, my life's delight . . xli 
 
 Silly boy, 'tis full Moone yet . xlii 
 
 So quicke, so hot, so mad is thy fond sutc xliii 
 
 Shall I then hope when faith is fled . xliv 
 
 Vaile, love, mine eyes ! O hide from me xlv 
 
 So sw^eet is thy discourse to me . . xlvi 
 
 Xhere is a Garden in her face . . xlvii 
 Xo his sweet lute Apollo sung the motions 
 
 of the Spheares .... xlviii 
 
 Young and simple though I am xlix 
 
 Love me or not, love her I must or dye . 1 
 
 Love, where are thy shafts ... li 
 Beauty is but a painted hell ... lii 
 
 1 must complain, yet doe enjoy my Love liii 
 Her fay re inflaming eyes . . liv 
 Turne all thy thoughts to eyes . . Ivi 
 Your faire lookes urge my desire . Ivii 
 Faine w^ould I wed a faire young man 
 
 that day and night could please mee Iviii 
 
 Of Neptune's empire let us sing , . lix 
 
 111 
 
TO C.R. 
 
 iV 
 
FIFTY SONGS 
 
 BY 
 
 THOMAS 
 
 CAMPION. 
 
 CARE 
 
 NOT 
 
 FOR 
 
 THESE 
 
 LADIES, 
 
 THAT 
 
 MUST 
 
 BE 
 
 WOODE 
 
 AND PRAIDE ; 
 
 GIVE ME KIND 
 
 AMARILLIS, 
 1 THE WANTON 
 
 COUNTREY MAIDE. 
 
 NATURE ART DISDAINeth, 
 
 HER BEAUTIE IS HER 
 
 OWNE. 
 
Her when wc court and kissc, 
 She cries : Forsooth, let go ! 
 But when we come where comfort is, 
 She never will say : No ! 
 
 If I love Amarillis, 
 
 She gives me fruit and flowers ; 
 
 But if we love these Ladies, 
 
 We must give golden show^ers. 
 
 Give them gold that sell love ; 
 
 Give me the nutbrowne lasse. 
 
 Who, w^hen w^e court and kisse, 
 
 She cries: Forsooth, let go! 
 
 But w^hen we come w^here comfort is, 
 
 She never will say : No ! 
 
 These Ladies must have pillow^es, 
 
 And beds by strangers wrought; 
 
 Give me a Bower of w^illowes. 
 
 Of mosse and leaves unbought, 
 
 And fresh Amarillis, 
 
 With milke and honie fed; 
 
 Who, w^hen w^e court and kisse. 
 
 She cries : Forsooth, let go ! 
 
 But w^hen w^e come w^here comfort is. 
 
 She never w^ill say : No ! 
 
 VI 
 
Y sweetest Lesbia, let us live and 
 
 love; 
 And, though the sager sort our 
 
 deedes reprove, 
 Let us not vv^ay them ; heav'n's 
 great lampes do dive 
 Into their west, and strait againe revive: 
 But soone as once set is our little light, 
 Then must we sleepe one ever during night. 
 
 If all would lead their lives in love like mee. 
 Then bloudie sw^ords and armour should not be; 
 No drum nor trumpet peaceful sleepes should 
 
 move, 
 Unles alarme came from the campe of Love : 
 But fooles do live and wast their little light, 
 And seeke w^ith paine their ever during night. 
 
 When timely death my life and fortune ends. 
 Let not my hearse be vext with mourning friends ; 
 But let all lovers, rich in triumph, come 
 And w^ith sweet pastimes grace my happie 
 
 tombe : 
 And, Lesbia, close up thou my little light, 
 And crowne with love my ever during night. 
 
 Vll 
 
Y love hath vow'd hec will for- 
 sake mee, 
 And I am alreadie sped ; 
 Far other promise he did make 
 me 
 
 When he had my maidenhead. 
 If such danger be in playing, 
 And sport must to earnest turne, 
 I will go no niore a-maying. 
 
 Had I forseene what is ensued, 
 
 And w^hat now w^ith paine I prove, 
 
 Unhappie then I had eschewed 
 
 This unkind event of love ; 
 
 Maides foreknow their owne undooing. 
 
 But feare naught till all is done, 
 
 When a man alone is wooing. 
 
 Dissembling wretch, to gaine thy pleasure, 
 What didst thou not vow and sweare .'' 
 So didst thou rob me of the treasure 
 Which so long I held so deare. 
 Now^ thou prov'st to me a stranger; 
 Such is the vile guise of men 
 When a woman is in danger. 
 
 That hart is neercst to misfortune 
 
 That w^ill trust a fained toong ; 
 
 When flatt'ring men our loves importune 
 
 They entend us deepest wrong. 
 
 If this shame of Love's betraying 
 
 But this once I cleanely shun, 
 
 I will go no more a-maying. 
 
 viii 
 
URNE backc, you wan- 
 ton flyer, 
 And answer c my desire 
 With mutuall greeting; 
 Yet bende a little neerer, 
 True beauty still shines 
 
 cleerer 
 In closer meeting. 
 
 Harts, with harts delighted, 
 
 Should strive to be united; 
 
 Either other's armes w^ith armes enchayning; 
 
 Harts with a thought, 
 
 Rosie lips with a kisse still entertaining. 
 
 What harvest halfe so sw^eete is 
 
 As still to reape the kisses 
 
 Grow^ne ripe in sowing ^ 
 
 And straight to be teceivet 
 
 Of that which thou art giver, 
 
 Rich in bestow^ing !' 
 
 There's no strickt observing 
 
 Of times' or seasons' changing; 
 
 There is ever one fresh spring abiding. 
 
 Then w^hat w^e sow^ w^ith our lips 
 
 Let us reape, Love's gaines deviding. 
 
 IX 
 
T fell on a sommcr's day, 
 While swreete Bessie 
 
 sleeping laie, 
 In her bowre, on her bed, 
 Light vv^ith curtaines sha^ 
 
 dowed, 
 Jamy came ; shee him 
 
 spies 
 
 Opening halfe her heavie eies. 
 
 Jamy stole in through the dore. 
 
 She lay slumbring as before ; 
 
 Softly to her he drew neere, 
 
 She heard him, yet would not heare; 
 
 Bessie voWd not to speake, 
 
 He resolv'd that dumpe to breake. 
 
 First a soft kisse he doth take, 
 She lay still and w^ould not wake ; 
 Then his hands learn'd to w^oo, 
 She dreampt not what he would doo, 
 But still slept, w^hile he smil'd 
 To see Love by sleepe beguil'd. 
 
 Jamy then began to play, 
 Bessie as one buried lay, 
 Gladly still through this sleight 
 Deceived in her ow^ne deceit; 
 And since this traunce begoon, 
 She sleepes cv'rie after noone. 
 
w 
 
 HOU art not faire, for all thy red 
 
 €j white, 
 For all those rosie ornaments in 
 
 thee; 
 Thou art not sweet, though made 
 of meer delight, 
 Not faire nor sw^eet unlesse thou pitie mee. 
 I will not sooth thy fancies ; thou shalt prove 
 Xhat beauty is no beauty w^ithout Love. 
 
 Yet love not me, nor seeke thou to allure 
 
 My thoughts w^ith beautie, were it more devine ; 
 
 Thy smiles and kisses I cannot endure, 
 
 I'll not be wrapt up in those armes of thine; 
 
 Now^ shew it, if thou be a woman right : 
 
 Embrace and kisse and love me, in despight! 
 
 XI 
 
LAME not my cheeks, though pale 
 
 with Love they be; 
 The kindly heate unto my heart is 
 
 flowne, 
 To cherish it, that is dismaid 
 by thee, 
 Who art so cruell and unsteedfast growne ; 
 For Nature, call'd for by distressed harts, 
 Neglects and quite forsakes the outward partes. 
 
 But they whose cheekes with careles blood are 
 
 stain'd 
 Nurse not one sparke of love within their harts ; 
 And, when they w^ooe, they speake w^ith passion 
 
 fain'd, 
 For their fat Love lyes in their outward parts ; 
 But, in their brests, where Love his court should 
 
 hold, 
 Poorc Cupid sits and blowes his nailes for cold. 
 
 Xil 
 
ISTRIS, since you so much 
 desire 
 iTo kno^v the place of Cupid's 
 
 fire. 
 In your faire shrine that flame 
 doth rest, 
 Yet never harbour'd in your brest. 
 It bides not in your lips so sweete, 
 Nor where the rose and lillies meete; 
 But a little higher, but a little higher; 
 There, there, O there lies Cupid's fire! 
 
 Even in those starrie, pearcing eyes, 
 There Cupid's sacred fire lyes. 
 Those eyes I strive not to enjoy. 
 For they have power to destroy ; 
 Nor woe I for a smile or kisse; 
 So meanely triumphs not my blisse; 
 But a little higher, but a little higher, 
 I climbe to crowne my chast desire. 
 
 Xlll 
 
HEN thou must home to shades 
 
 of under ground, 
 And there ariv'd, a newe ad- 
 mired guest, 
 The beauteous spirits do ingirt 
 thee round. 
 White lope, blith Hellen, and the rest, 
 To heare the stories of thy finisht love 
 From that smoothe toong whose musicke Hell 
 can move. 
 
 Then wilt thou speake of banqueting delights. 
 Of masks and revels which sw^eetc youth did 
 
 make, 
 Of Turnies, and great challenges of knights, 
 And all these triumphes for thy beauty's sake ; 
 When thou hast told these honours done to thee, 
 Then tell, O tell, how^ thou didst murther mcc! 
 
 XIV 
 
ND would you sec my 
 
 Mistris* face ^ 
 1 1 is a f lo wf ie gar den place , 
 Where knots of beauties 
 
 have such grace 
 That all is -worke and no 
 where space. 
 
 It is a sw^eete delicious morne, 
 Where day is breeding, never borne ; 
 It is a Meadow yet unshornc 
 Whome thousand flow^crs do adornc. 
 
 It is the heavens' bright reflexe, 
 Weake eies to dazle and to vexe; 
 It is th' idea of her sexe, 
 Envie of whome doth world pcrplcxe. 
 
 It is a face of Death that smiles, 
 Pleasing though it killes the whiles ; 
 Where death and love in pretie wiles 
 Each other mutuallie beguiles. 
 
 It is faire beauty's freshest youth, 
 
 It is the fain'd Elizium^s truth; 
 
 The Spring, that w^inter'd harts renu'th ; 
 
 And this is that my soule pursu'th. 
 
 XV 
 
HALL I come, if I swim.'' 
 wide arc the waves, 
 you see ; 
 Shall I come, if I flie, my 
 deare love, to thee ^ 
 Streames Venus w^ill ap" 
 pease ; Cupid give me 
 
 __^ winges ; 
 
 All the powers assist my desire 
 
 Save you alone, that set my w^oful heart on fire ! 
 
 You are faire ; so w^as Hero that in Sestos dwelt ; 
 She a priest, yet the heate of Love truly felt. 
 A greater streame than this did her Love devide ; 
 But she w^as his guide w^ith a light; 
 So through the streames Leander did enjoy her 
 sight. 
 
 XVI 
 
 
HAT then is Love but mourn- 
 ing ^ 
 What desire, but a selfe^-burn'- 
 ingr' 
 
 Till shee that hates, doth Love 
 
 returne, 
 Thus will I mourne, thus will I sing: 
 Come away ! come away, my darling ! 
 
 Beautie is but a blooming 
 Youth in his glorie entombing ; 
 Time hath a while w^hich none can stay; 
 Then come aw^ay , w^hile thus I sing : 
 Come away ! come away, my darling ! 
 
 Sommer in winter fadeth ; 
 Gloomie night heav'nly light shadeth ; 
 Like to the morne are Venus' flowers ; 
 Such are her howers ; then will I sing : 
 Come aw^ay! come away, my darling! 
 
 XVII 
 
HETHER men doc 
 
 laugh or wccpe, 
 Whether they doe 
 
 wake or sleepe, 
 Whether they die 
 
 yoong or olde, 
 Whether they feele 
 
 heate or colde, 
 There is underneath 
 
 the sunne 
 Nothing in true earnest done. 
 
 All our pride is but a jest; 
 None are worst and none arc best; 
 Gricfe and joy and hope and fearc 
 Play their Pageants everywhere; 
 Vaine opinion all doth sway, 
 And the world is but a play. 
 
 Pow^crs above in cloudes doe sit 
 Mocking our poore apish w^it, 
 Xhat so lamely with such state 
 Their high glorie imitate ; 
 No ill can be felt but paine, 
 And that happie men disdaine. 
 
 XVlll 
 
ACKE and Jone they thinkc no ill, 
 But loving live, and merry still; 
 Doc their weeke day's workc, and pray 
 Devoutly on the holy day ; 
 Skip and trip it on the greene, 
 I Andhelpe to chuse the Summer-Queene; 
 
 Lash out, at a country feast, 
 
 Their silver penny with the best. 
 
 Well can they judge of nappy ale, 
 And tell at large a W^inter tale ; 
 Climbe up to the apple loft. 
 And turne the crabs till they be soft. 
 Tib is all the father's joy, 
 And little Tom the mother's boy, 
 All their pleasure is content ; 
 And care to pay their yearely rent. 
 
 {one can call by name her covv^es. 
 
 And decke her windowes with greene boughs ; 
 
 Shee can wreathes and tuttyes make, 
 
 And trimme with plums a bridall cake. 
 
 Jacke know^es what brings gaine or losse, 
 
 And his long flaile can stoutly tosse. 
 
 Make the hedge w^hich others brcake; 
 
 And ever thinkes w^hat he doth speake. 
 
 Now, you Courtly Dames and Knights 
 That study onely strange delights. 
 Though you scorne the home^spun gray 
 And revcll in your rich array, 
 Though your tongues dissemble deepc 
 And can your heads from danger keepe. 
 Yet, for all your pompe and traine, 
 Securer lives the silly swaine. 
 xix 
 
A.RDEN now thy tyred hart 
 
 with more then flinty rage ; 
 Ne'er let her false teares hence- 
 forth thy constant gricfe 
 
 asswage; 
 
 Once true happy dayes thou saw'st when shee 
 
 stood firme and kinde ; 
 Both as one then liv'd and held one eare, one 
 
 tongue, one minde. 
 But now those bright houres be fled, and never 
 
 may returne ; 
 What then remaincs but her untruths to mourner' 
 
 Silly Traytresse, w^ho shall now thy carelesse 
 
 tresses place ^ 
 Who thy pretty talke supply, whose eare thy 
 
 musicke grace ^ 
 Who shall thy bright eyes admire ^ w^hat lips 
 
 triumph with thine ^ 
 Day by day who'll visit thee, and say: Xh'art 
 
 onely mine ^ 
 Such a time there "was, God wot ; but such shall 
 
 never be ; 
 Too oft, I fearc, thou wilt remember me. 
 
 XX 
 
HAT harvest halfe so 
 sweet is 
 
 As still to reape the 
 kisses 
 
 Growne ripe in sow- 
 ing r' 
 
 And straight to be 
 receiver 
 
 Of that which thou art 
 
 giver, 
 Rich in bestowing ^ 
 Kisse then, my Harvest Queene, 
 Full garners heaping ! 
 Kisses, ripest when th'are greene, 
 Want onely reaping. 
 
 The Dove alone expresses 
 
 Her fervencie in kisses, 
 
 Of all most loving; 
 
 A creature as offencelessc 
 
 As those things that are sencclessc 
 
 And void of moving. 
 
 Let us so love and kisse, 
 
 Though all en vie us, 
 
 That which kinde and harmlesse is 
 
 None can dcnic us. 
 
 XXI 
 
WEET, exclude mee not, nor be 
 
 divided 
 From him that ere long must bed 
 thee; 
 
 All thy maiden doubts Law hath 
 
 decided; 
 Sure wee are, and I must w^ed thee. 
 Presume then yet a little more; 
 Here's the way, barrc not the dorc. 
 
 Tenants, to fulfill their Land-lord's pleasure, 
 Pay their rent before the quarter; 
 'Tis my case, if you it rightly measure; 
 Put mee not then off writh laughter. 
 Consider then a little more ; 
 Here's the way to all my store. 
 
 Why were dores in love's despight devised ^ 
 Are not laws enough restrayning ^ 
 Women are most apt to be surprised 
 Sleeping, or sleepe w^isely fayning. 
 Then grace me yet a little more ; 
 Here's the w^ay, barre not the dore. 
 
 XXil 
 
HERE is none, O none but you, 
 That from mee estrange your 
 
 sight, 
 Whom mine eyes affect to viewr 
 Or chained cares heare with 
 
 delight. 
 
 Other beauties others move. 
 
 In you I all graces finde; 
 
 Such is the effect of love. 
 
 To make them happy that are kinde. 
 
 Women in fraile beauty trust, 
 Onely seeme you faire to mee ; 
 Yet prove truly kinde and just, 
 For that may not dissembled be. 
 
 S'wcct, afford mee then your sight, 
 That, survaying all your lookcs, 
 Endlcsse volumes I may write, 
 And fill the world w^ith cnvyed bookcs ; 
 
 Which when after ages view, 
 All shall wonder and despaire : 
 Woman to find man so true, 
 Or man a woman halfe so fair. 
 
 XXlll 
 
OME away, arm'd with love's 
 
 delights ! 
 Thy sprightful graces bring w^ith 
 thee! 
 
 When love and longing fights, 
 
 Xhey must the sticklers be. 
 
 Come quickly, come! the promis'd hourc is 
 
 well-nye spent, 
 And pleasure's being too much deferr'd loseth 
 her best content. 
 
 Is shee come ^ O, how neare is shee ^ 
 
 How farrc yet from this friendly place ^ 
 
 How many steps from me ^ 
 
 When shall I her imbrace ^ 
 
 These armes I'll spred, which onely at her sight 
 
 shall close, 
 Attending as the starry flowre that the Sun's 
 
 noone'-tide know^es. 
 
 XXIV 
 
OME, you pretty, falsc^cy'd 
 wanton, 
 
 Leave your crafty smiling ! 
 
 Thinkc you to escape me now 
 
 With slipp'ry w^ords beguiling t^ 
 No ; you mockt me th'otner day ; 
 When you got loose you fled away ; 
 But, since I have caught you now, 
 I'll clip your wings for flying; 
 Smothrmg kisses fast Til heape 
 And keepe you so from crying. 
 
 Sooner may you count the starres, 
 And number hayle dow^ne pouring, 
 Xell the osiers of the Xemmcs, 
 Or Goodwin Sands devouring, 
 Xhen the thicke-showr'd kisses here 
 Which now^ thy tyred lips must beare. 
 Such a harvest never was, 
 So rich and full of pleasure, 
 But 'tis spent as soone as reapt, 
 So trustlesse is love's treasure. 
 
 Would it were dumb midnight now^, 
 
 When all the world lyes sleeping ! 
 
 Would this place some Desert were. 
 
 Which no man hath in keeping ! 
 
 My desires should then be safe; 
 
 And w^hen you cry'd then w^ould I laugh; 
 
 But if ought might breed offence. 
 
 Love onely should be blamed ; 
 
 I would live your servant still, 
 
 And you my Saint unnamed. 
 
 XXV d 
 
SECRET love Of two I 
 
 must confcssc 
 I kindly welcome for 
 change in close play- 
 ing, 
 Yet my dear e husband I 
 love ne'erthelesse ; 
 
 His desires, w^hole or 
 
 halfe, quickly allaying, 
 At all times ready to offer redresse ; 
 His owne he never wants, but hath it duely, 
 Yet twits me I keepe not touch with him truly. 
 
 The more a spring is drawne the more it flowes, 
 No lampe lesse light retaines by lightning others; 
 Is hee a loser his losse that ne'r know^esr' 
 Or is he wealthy that wast treasure smothers ^ 
 My churle vowes no man shall sent his sweet 
 
 Rose; 
 His owne enough and more I give him duely, 
 Yet still he twits me I keep not touch truly. 
 
 Wise Archers beare more than one shaft to field, 
 The Venturer loads not with one ware his ship- 
 
 ping; 
 Should warriers learne but one weapon to wielde, 
 Or thrive faire plants e'er the worse for the slip" 
 
 pingr' 
 One dish cloyes, many fresh appetite yeeld. 
 Mine own I'll use, and his he shall have duely, 
 Judge then what debter can keepe touch more 
 
 truly. 
 
 xxvi 
 
OW let her change and spare not! 
 Since she proves strange! care not; 
 Fain'd love charm'd so my delight 
 That still I doted on her sight. 
 But sheisgonejncwjoysimbracing 
 And my desires disgracing. 
 
 When did I crre in blindnesse, 
 Or vexe her with unkindnesse ^ 
 If my cares scrv'd her alone, 
 Why is shce thus untimely gone .'' 
 True love abides to t' houre of dying, 
 False love is ever flying. 
 
 False! then farewell for ever! 
 Once false proves faithfull never; 
 Hec that boasts now^ of thy love 
 Shall soone my present fortunes prove, 
 Were he as faire as bright Adonis, 
 Faith is not had vvrhcrc none is. 
 
 xxvii 
 
ERE my hart as some men's are, 
 thyerrours wouldnotmove 
 me; 
 But thy faults I curious finde, 
 and speake because I love 
 thee; 
 Patience is a thing divine, and far, I grant, above 
 mec. 
 
 Foes sometimes befriend us more, our blacker 
 
 deedes objecting. 
 Than th' obsequious bosom guest, with false 
 
 respect affecting. 
 Friendship is the glasse of Truth, our hidden 
 
 Staines detecting. 
 
 While I use of eyes enjoy and inward light of 
 
 reason, 
 Thy observer will I be and censor, but in season; 
 Hidden mischiefe to conceale in State and Love 
 
 is treason. 
 
 XXVill 
 
AYDES arc simple, some men 
 
 say; 
 They, forsooth, willtrust no men. 
 But should they men's wills obey, 
 Maides were very simple then. 
 
 Truth a rare flower now is growne, 
 Few^ men w^eare it in their hearts ; 
 Lovers are more easily know^ne 
 By their follies than deserts. 
 
 Safer may w^e credit give 
 To a faithlesse w^andring Jew 
 Then a young man's vowes beleeve 
 When he sweares his love is true. 
 
 Love they make a poore blinde childe, 
 But let none trust such as hee ; 
 Rather than to be bcguil'd 
 Ever let me simple be. 
 
 XXIX 
 
INDE arc her answcrcs, 
 But her performance keeps no day; 
 Breaks time, as dancers 
 From their own musickcwhcn they 
 stray. 
 
 All her free favors €7 smooth words 
 
 Wing my hopes in vaine; 
 
 O, did ever voice so sweet but only fainr' 
 
 Can true love yeeld such delay, 
 
 Converting joy to pain ^ 
 
 Lost is our freedome 
 
 When we submit to women so ; 
 
 Why doe wee neede them, 
 
 When, in their best, they worke our woe .'' 
 
 There is no wisedome 
 
 Can alter ends by Fate prefixt. 
 
 O, why is the good of man with evill mixt ^ 
 
 Never were dayes yet call'd two, 
 
 But one night went betwixt. 
 
 XXX 
 
F Love loves truth, then 
 
 women doe not love; 
 Their passions all are but 
 
 dissembled shewes; 
 Nowkinde €r itee of fav-- 
 
 our if they prove, 
 Their kindnes straight a 
 
 tempest over -- 
 
 Then as a Sea^-man the poore Lover fares : 
 The storme drownes him ere hee can drowne his 
 cares. 
 
 But why accuse I w^omen that deceive i' 
 Blame then the Foxes for their subtile wile ; 
 They first from Nature did their craft receive ; 
 It is a woman's nature to beguile. 
 Yet some, I grant, in loving stedfast grow; 
 But such by use are made, not Nature, so. 
 
 O, w^hy had Nature pow^er at once to frame 
 Deceit and Beauty, traitors both to Love.'' 
 O, w^ould Deceit had dyed when Beauty came 
 With her divinenesse ev'ry heart to move! 
 Yet doe we rather w^ish, whate'er befall. 
 To have fayre women false then none at all. 
 
 XXXI 
 
OW winter nights enlarge 
 The number of their houres ; 
 And clouds their stormes discharge 
 Upon the airie towres. 
 Let now the chimneys blaze, 
 
 And cups o'erflow w^ith wine; 
 
 Let well-tun'd words amaze 
 
 With harmonie divine ! 
 
 Now^ yellow waxen lights 
 
 Shall w^aite on hunny Love ; 
 
 While youthfull Revels, Masks, and Courtly 
 sights, 
 
 Sleepe's leaden spels remove. 
 
 This time doth well dispence 
 
 With lovers* long discourse ; 
 
 Much speech hath some defence, 
 
 Though beauty no remorse. 
 
 All doc not all things well : 
 
 Some measures comely tread, 
 
 Some knotted Ridles tell, 
 
 Some Poems smoothly read. 
 
 The Summer hath his joyes. 
 
 And Winter his delights ; 
 
 Though Love and all his pleasures are but toyes. 
 
 They shorten tedious nights. 
 
 XXXii 
 

 WAKE, thou spring of speaking 
 grace, mute rest becomes not 
 thee! 
 The fay rest women, "while they 
 sleepe, and Pictures, equal be. 
 O come, and dwell in love's discourses! 
 Old renuing, new creating ; 
 The words which thy rich tongue discourses 
 Arc not of the common rating ! 
 
 Thy voyce is as an Eccho cleare which Musicke 
 
 doth beget; 
 Thy speech is as an Oracle which none can 
 
 counterfeit ; 
 For thou alone w^ithout offending 
 Hast obtained pow^er of enchanting; 
 And I could heare thee without ending. 
 Other comfort never w^anting. 
 
 Some little reason brutish lives with humane 
 
 glory share. 
 But language is our proper grace from w^hich they 
 
 sevcr'd are ; 
 As brutes in reason man surpasses, 
 Men in speech excell each other; 
 If speech be then the best of graces, 
 Doe it not in slumber smother! 
 
 X.XXlll 
 
HAT is it all that men posscssc 
 among themselves convers- 
 ing r^ 
 Wealth or fame, or some such 
 boast scarce worthy the rehearsing. 
 Women onelyare men's good, with them in Love 
 conversing. 
 
 If weary, they prepare us rest ; if sicke their hand 
 attends us ; 
 
 When with griefe our hearts are prest, their com- 
 fort best befriends us ; 
 
 Sw^eet or sowre they willing goe to share w^hat 
 fortune sends us. 
 
 What pretty babes w^ith painc they beare, our 
 
 name €r form presenting ! 
 What w^e get, how wise they keepe ! by sparing, 
 
 wants preventing; 
 Sorting all their housnold cares to our observed 
 
 contenting. 
 
 All this, of whose large use I sing, in tw^o words 
 
 is expressed: 
 Good w^ife is the good I praise, if by good men 
 
 possessed; 
 Bad with bad in ill sutcw^ell; but goodwth good 
 
 live blessed. 
 
 XXXIV 
 
Fthou longst so much to Icarnc, 
 
 (sweet boy) what 'tis to love, 
 Doe but fixe thy thought on mee, 
 and thou shah quickly prove. 
 Little sute at first, shall w^in 
 Way to thy abasht desire, 
 But then will I hedge thee in, 
 Salamandet'-like, w^ith fire ! 
 
 With thee dance I w^ill, and sing, and thy fond 
 
 dalliance beare ; 
 Wee the grovy hills will climbe, and play the 
 
 w^antons there; 
 Other whiles wee'll gather flow^res, 
 Lying dallying on the grasse ! 
 And thus our delightfull how^res 
 Full of waking dreames shall passe! 
 
 When thy joyes were thus at height my love 
 
 should turne from thee; 
 Old acquaintance then should grow^ as strange les 
 
 strange might be, 
 Tw^enty rivals thou should'st finde 
 Breaking all their hearts for mee, 
 When to all Til prove more kinde 
 And more forward then to thee. 
 
 Thus thy silly youth, enrag'd, would soone my 
 
 love defie ; 
 But alas, poore soule, too late! dipt wings can 
 
 never fUe. 
 
 XXXV 
 
Those sweet houres which wee had past, 
 Call'd to minde, thy heart w^ould burne ; 
 And, could'st thou flye ne'er so fast, 
 They w^ould make thee straight returne. 
 
 XXXVl 
 
HALL I come, sweet Love, to thee, 
 When the ev'ning beames are set ^ 
 Shall I not excluded be ^ 
 Will you finde no fained lett r' 
 Let me not, for pity, more 
 Tell the long houres at your dore ! 
 
 Who can tell what theefe or foe, 
 
 In the covert of the night. 
 
 For his prey will w^orke my woe. 
 
 Or through wicked foule despight r' 
 
 So may I dye unredrest. 
 
 Ere my long love be possest. 
 
 But to let such dangers passe. 
 Which a lover's thoughts disdaine, 
 *Tis enough in such a place 
 To attend love's joyes in vaine. 
 Doe not mocke me in thy bed, 
 While these cold nights freeze me dead. 
 
 xxxvii 
 
HRICE tossc these Oaken ashes 
 
 in the ayre, 
 Thrice sit thou mute in this in- 
 chanted chayre ; 
 And thrice three times tye up this 
 true love's knot; 
 And murmur soft: Shee will, or shee will not. 
 
 Goe burne these poys'nous w^eedes in yon blew^ 
 
 fire, 
 These Screech-ow^Ie's fethers,and this prickling 
 
 bryer ; 
 This Cypresse gathered at a dead man's grave; 
 That all thy feares and cares an end may have. 
 
 Then come, you Fayries, dance with me a round! 
 Melt her hard hart with your melodious sound! 
 In vaine are all the charmcs I can devise; 
 She hath an Arte to breake them with her eyes. 
 
 XXXVlll 
 
IRE, fire, fire, fire, 
 Loe, here I burne in such desire 
 That all the tearesthat I canstraine 
 Out of mine idle empty braine 
 Cannot allay my scorching paine. 
 
 Come Trent and Humber and fayre Thames ! 
 
 Dread Ocean, haste "with all thy streames ! 
 
 And if you can not quench my fire, 
 
 O drowne both mee and my desire ! 
 
 Fire, fire, fire, fire ! 
 
 There is no hell to my desire. 
 
 See, all the Rivers backward flye ! 
 
 And th* Ocean doth his waves deny, 
 
 For feare my heate should drinke them dry! 
 
 Come, heav'nly showres, then, pouring dow^ne ! 
 
 Come you that once the world did drow^ne ! 
 
 Some then you spared, but now save all 
 
 That else must burne and with mee fall ! 
 
 XXXIX 
 

 HUS I resolve, and time 
 
 hath taught me so : 
 Since she is fayre, and 
 
 ever kinde to me, 
 Though shebewildeand 
 
 wanton" like in shew, 
 Those little staines in 
 
 youth I will not see. 
 That she be constant Heav'n I oft implore; 
 If prayers prevaile not, I can doe no more. 
 
 Palme tree,the more you presse the more it grow^cs; 
 Leave it alone it will not much exceede. 
 Free beauty if you strive to yoke you lose ; 
 And for affection strange distaste you breede. 
 What Nature hath not taught no Arte can frame ; 
 Wilde borne be w^ild still though by force made 
 tame. 
 
 xi 
 
OME, O come, my life's delight, 
 Let me not in languor pine ! 
 Love loves no delay ; thy sight 
 The more enjoy'd the more 
 divine. 
 
 O come, and take from mee 
 The paine of being depriv'd of thee ! 
 
 Thou all sweetnesse dost enclose, 
 Like a little vsrorld of blisse. 
 Beauty guards thy lookes; the Rose 
 In them pure and eternall is. 
 Come then, and make thy flight 
 As swift to me as heav'nly light. 
 
 \ 
 
 xli 
 
ILLY boy, 'tis full Moonc yet, thy 
 
 night as day shines clearely ; 
 Had thy youth but writ to feare thou 
 
 couldst not love so dcarely ; 
 Shortly wilt thou mourne when all 
 thy pleasures are bereaved; 
 Little knowes he how to love that never was de-- 
 ceived. 
 
 This is thy first mayden flame that triumphes 
 
 yet unstayned ; 
 All is artlesse now^ you speake, not one w^ord yet 
 
 is fayned ; 
 All is heav'n that you behold, and all your 
 
 thoughts are blessed ; 
 But no Spring can w^ant its Fall, each Troylus 
 
 has his Cresseid. 
 
 Thy well-order'd lockes ere long shall rudely 
 
 hang neglected ; 
 And thy lively pleasant cheare reade griefe on 
 
 earth dejected ; 
 Much then wilt thou blame thy Saint that made 
 
 thy heart so holy ; 
 And with sighes confessc, in love that too much 
 
 faith is folly. 
 
 Yet be just and constant still ! Love may beget a 
 
 wonder, 
 Not unlike a Summer's frost, or Winter's fatall 
 
 thunder. 
 Hce that holds his Sweet-hart true unto his day 
 
 of dying. 
 Lives of all that ever breath' d most worthy the 
 
 envying, 
 xlii 
 
O quickc, so hot, so mad is 
 
 thy fond sutc, 
 So rude, so tedious 
 
 growne,in urgingmee, 
 That faine I would with 
 losse make thy tongue 
 mute, 
 And yeeld some little grace 
 to quiet thee ; 
 An houre with thee I care not to converse. 
 For I w^ould not be counted too perverse. 
 
 But roofes too hot w^ould prove for men all fire ; 
 
 And hills too high for my unused pace ; 
 
 The grove is charg'd w^ith thornes and the bold 
 
 bryer; 
 Gray Snakes the meadowes shrow^de in every 
 
 place ; 
 A yellow^ Frog, alas ! will fright me so 
 As I should start and tremble as I goe. 
 
 Since then I can on earth no fit roome finde, 
 In heaven I am resolv'd with you to meete; 
 Till then, for Hope's sw^eet sake, rest your tir'd 
 
 minde. 
 And not so much as see mee in the streete ; 
 A heavenly meeting one day w^ee shall have. 
 But never, as you dreame, in bed or grave. 
 
 xliii 
 
HALL I then hope when faith 
 
 is fled r' 
 Can I seeke love when hope is 
 
 gone ^ 
 Of can I live when love is dead ^ 
 Poorely hee lives that can love none. 
 Her vow^es are broke and I am free ; 
 She lost her faith in losing me. 
 
 When I compare mine ow^ne events, 
 When I weigh others' like annoy, 
 All doe but heape up discontents 
 That on a beauty build their joy. 
 Thus I of all complainc, since shee 
 All faith hath lost in losing mee. 
 
 So my deare freedome have I gain'd 
 Through her unkindnesse and disgrace ; 
 Yet could I ever live enchain'd, 
 As shee my service did embrace. 
 But shee is chang'd, and I am free ; 
 Faith failing her, love dyed in mee. 
 
 xliv 
 
AILE, love, mine eyes! O hide 
 
 from me 
 I The plagues that charge the curious 
 
 minde! 
 If beauty private will not be 
 Suffice it yet that she proves kinde. 
 Who can usurp heav'n's light alone r' 
 Stars were not made to shine on one ! 
 
 Griefes past recure fooles try to heale, 
 That greater harmes on lesse inflict, 
 The pure offend by too much zeale, 
 Affection should not be too strict. 
 Hee that a true embrace will finde 
 To beauty's faults must still be blinde. 
 
 xlv 
 
O sweet is thy discourse 
 
 to me, 
 And so delightfull is thy 
 
 sight, 
 As I taste nothing right 
 
 but thee. 
 O why invented Nature 
 
 light r' 
 
 Was it alone for beauty's sake, 
 That her gract words might better take ^ 
 
 No more can I old joyes recall ; 
 They now to me become unknow^ne, 
 Not seeming to have beene at all. 
 Alas ! how soone is this love grow^ne 
 To such a spreading height in me 
 As with it all must shadowed be 
 
 xlvi 
 
HERE is a Garden in 
 
 her face 
 Where Roses and white 
 
 Lillies grow; 
 A heav'nly paradice is 
 
 that place 
 Wherein all pleasant fruits 
 
 doe flow. 
 There Cherries grow^, 
 w^hich none may buy 
 Till Cherry ripe themselves doe cry. 
 
 Those Cherries fayrely do enclose 
 
 Of Orient Pearle a double row^; 
 
 Which w^hen her lovely laughter showes 
 
 They looke like Rose-buds fill'd w^ith snow. 
 
 Yet them nor Pecre nor Prince can buy 
 
 Till Cherry ripe themselves doe cry. 
 
 Her Eyes like Angels watch them still; 
 Her brow^es like bended bowes doe stand, 
 Threat'ning with piercing frow^nes to kill 
 All that attempt, with eye or hand, 
 Those sacred Cherries to come nigh 
 Till Cherry ripe themselves doe cry. 
 
 xlvii 
 
O his sweet lute Apollo sung the 
 
 motions of the Spheares; 
 The wondrous order of the stars 
 whose course divides the 
 yeares; 
 
 And all the mysteries above; 
 But none of this could Midas move, 
 Which purchast him his ass's earcs. 
 
 Then Pan with his rude pipe began the country- 
 
 wealth t'advance, 
 To boast of cattle, flockes of sheepe, and Goatcs 
 
 on hills that dance; 
 With much more of this churlish kinde, 
 That quite transported Midas* mindc, 
 And held him rapt as in a trance. 
 
 This wrong the God of musickc scorn'd from 
 
 such a sottish judge, 
 And bent his angry bow at Pan, which made the 
 
 piper trudge; 
 Then Midas' head he so did trim 
 That ev'ry age yet talkes of him 
 And Phoebus' right revenged grudge. 
 
 xlviii 
 
OUNG and simple though I am, 
 I have heard of Cupid's name; 
 Guesse I can wrhat thing it is 
 Men desire when they doe kisse. 
 Smoake can never burne, they say, 
 But the flames that follow may. 
 
 I am not so foule or fayre 
 To be proud nor to despayre ; 
 Guesse I can w^hat thing it is 
 Men desire w^hen they doe kissc. 
 Smoake can never burne, they say, 
 But the flames that follow may. 
 
 Faith, 'tis but a foolish minde ! 
 Yet, methinkes, a heate I finde, 
 Like thirst longing, that doth bide 
 Ever on my weaker side. 
 Where they say my heart doth move. 
 Venus, grant it be not love! 
 
 It it be, alas, w^hat then ^ 
 Were not w^omen made for men ^ 
 As good 'tw^ere a thing were past. 
 That must needes be done at last. 
 Roses that are over'-blowne 
 Growe lesse sw^eet ; then fall alone. 
 
 Yet nor churle, nor silken Gull, 
 Shall my Mayden blossome pull; 
 Who shall not I soone can tell : 
 Who shall, would I could as well ! 
 This I know: w^hoe'er hee be, 
 Love hee must or flatter me. 
 xlix a 
 
OVE me or not, love her I must 
 
 or dye ; 
 Leave me or not, follow her needs 
 
 must I. 
 O that her grace would my w^isht 
 comforts give! 
 How rich in her, how^ happy should I live! 
 
 All my desire, all my delight should be. 
 Her to enjoy, her to unite to mee; 
 Envy should cease, her would I love alone; 
 Who loves by lookes is seldome true to one. 
 
 Could I enchant, and that it lawfull w^ere, 
 Her would I charme, softly that none should 
 
 heare. 
 But love enforced rarely yeelds firme content; 
 So w^ould I love that neyther should repent. 
 
LOVE , where are thy shafts, 
 
 thy qui ver and thy bow r^ 
 Shall my wounds onely 
 
 weepe, and he ungaged 
 
 goer' 
 Be just, and strike him too 
 
 that dares contemne 
 
 thee so! 
 
 No eyes are like to thine, though men suppose 
 
 thee blinde; 
 So fay re they levell when the marke they list to 
 
 finde ; 
 Then strike, O strike the heart that beares the 
 
 cruell minde ! 
 
 Is myfonde sight deceived.'' or doe I Cupid spye, 
 Close ayming at his breast by w^hom, despis'd, I 
 
 dyer' 
 Shoot home, sweet Love, and w^ound him that he 
 
 may not flye ! 
 
 Othen we both will sit in some unhaunted shade. 
 And heale each other's wound which Love hath 
 
 justly made ; 
 O hope, O thought too vaine! how^ quickly dost 
 
 thou fade! 
 
 At large he wanders still, his heart is free from 
 
 paine ; 
 While secret sighes I spend, and tearcs, but all in 
 
 vaine. 
 Yet, Love, thou knoWst, by right, I should not 
 
 thus complainc, 
 li 
 
EAUTY is but a painted hell; 
 Aye me ! aye me ! 
 Shee wounds them that admire it, 
 She kills them that desire it. 
 
 Give her pride but fuell, 
 
 No fire is more cruell. 
 
 Pittie from ev'ry heart is fled; 
 Aye me ! aye me ! 
 Since false desire could borrow 
 Xeares of dissembled sorrow^, 
 Constant vowes turne truthlesse, 
 Love cruell, Beauty ruthlesse. 
 
 Sorrow can laugh, and Fury sing ; 
 
 Aye me ! aye me ! 
 
 My raving griefes discover 
 
 I liv'd too true a lover. 
 
 The first step to madnesse 
 
 Is the excesse of sadnesse. 
 
 lii 
 

 p 
 
 MUST complain, yet 
 
 doe enjoy my Love ; 
 She is too fair, too rich in 
 
 lovely parts ; 
 Xhence is my grief; for 
 Nature, while she 
 strove 
 With all her graces and 
 divinest Arts 
 Xo form her too too beautifull of hue, 
 Shee had no leasure left to make her true. 
 
 Should I , agriev'd, then "wish she were lesse fay re (' 
 That were repugnant to mine ow^ne desires. 
 Shee is admir'd, new lovers still tepayte ; 
 That kindles daily love's forgetful! fires. 
 Rest, jealous thoughts, and thus resolve at last : 
 Shee hath more beauty then becomes the chast. 
 
 iiii 
 
E R fayr c inflaming eyes, 
 Chiefe authors of my cares, 
 I prai'd in humblest wise 
 With grace to view my teares ; 
 
 They beheld me broad awake, 
 
 But, alasse, no ruth w^ould take. 
 
 Her lips with kisses rich. 
 
 And words of fayre delight, 
 
 I fayrely did beseech 
 
 To pitty my sad plight ; 
 
 But a voyce from them brake forth 
 
 As a w^hirle-winde from the north. 
 
 Then to her hands I fled. 
 That can give heart and all ; 
 To them I long did plead. 
 And loud for pitty call ; 
 But, alas, they put mee off 
 With a touch worse then a scoffc. 
 
 So backe I straight returned 
 And at her breast I knocked; 
 Where long in vaine I mourn'd, 
 Her heart so fast was lock'd; 
 Not a word could passage finde, 
 For a Rocke inclos'd her minde. 
 
 Then downe my pray'rs made way 
 
 To those most comely parts. 
 
 That make her flye or stay, 
 
 As they affect deserts ; 
 
 But her angry feete, thus mov'd. 
 
 Fled with all the parts I lov'd. 
 
 liv 
 
Yet fled they not so fast 
 As her enraged minde ; 
 Still did I after haste, 
 Still was I left behinde ; 
 Till I found 'tw^as to no end 
 With a Spirit to contend. 
 
 Iv 
 
In spite of Jealousic. 
 
 URNE all thy thoughts 
 
 to eyes, 
 Tuf ne all thy haires to 
 
 eares, 
 Change all thy friends to 
 
 spies, 
 And all thyjoyes to feares; 
 True Love will yet be free. 
 
 Turne darknesse into day, 
 Conjectures into truth, 
 Beleeve what th' envious say. 
 Let age interpret youth ; 
 True Love will yet be free. 
 In spite of Jealousie. 
 
 Wrest every word and looke, 
 Racke ev'ry hidden thought, 
 Or fish with golden hooke. 
 True Love cannot be caught ; 
 For that w^ill still be free 
 In spite of Jealousie. 
 
 Ivi 
 
OUR fairc lookcs urge my desire; 
 
 Calme it, sweet, with love. 
 
 Stay ; O w^hy w^ill you retire ^ 
 
 Can you churlish prove .'^ 
 
 If Love may persw^ade, 
 
 Love's pleasures, deare, deny not; 
 Here is a grove secur'd w^ith shade; 
 O then be wise, and flye not. 
 
 Harke, the Birds delighted sing. 
 Yet our pleasure sleepes ; 
 Wealth to none can profit bring 
 Which the miser keepes. 
 O come w^hile we may, 
 Let's chayne Love with embraces ; 
 We have not all times time to stay, 
 Nor safety in all places. 
 
 What ill finde you no^v in this, 
 
 Or who can complaine ^ 
 
 There is nothing done amisse 
 
 That breedes no man payne. 
 
 'Tis now flowry May; 
 
 But ev'n in cold December, 
 
 When all these leaves are blowrne aw^ay, 
 
 This place shall I remember. 
 
 Ivii 
 
AINE would I wed a fairc young 
 man that day and night could 
 please mee, 
 When my mind or body grieved 
 that had the pow^re to ease mee. 
 Maids are full of longing thoughts that breed a 
 
 bloodlesse sickenesse, 
 And that, oft I heare men saye, is onely cur'd by 
 
 quicknesse. 
 Oft I have beene w^oo'd €j prai'd, but never could 
 
 be moved; 
 Many for a day or so I have most dearely loved, 
 But this foolish mind of mine straight loaths the 
 
 thing resolved ; 
 If to love be sinne, in mee that sinne is soone ab^ 
 
 solved. 
 Sure I thinke I shall at lastflye to some holy Order; 
 When I once am setled there then can I flye no 
 
 farther. 
 Yet I w^ould not dye a maid, because I had a 
 
 mother; 
 As I w^as by one brought forth I w^ould bring 
 forth another. 
 
 Iviii 
 
A HYMNE IN PRAISE OF NEPTUNE. 
 
 F Neptune's empire let us 
 
 sing, 
 At whose command the 
 
 waves obey; 
 To whom the rivers tribute 
 
 ^ pa/' . 
 
 Down the high mountaines 
 
 sliding; 
 
 To whom the scaly Nation yeelds 
 
 Homage for the Christall fields 
 
 Wherein they dwell; 
 
 And every Sea-God paies a Jem 
 
 Yeerely out of his watry Cell, 
 
 To deck great Neptune's Diadem. 
 
 The Tritons, dancing in a ring 
 
 Before his Pallace gates, do make 
 
 The water with their ecchoes quake. 
 
 Like the great thunder sounding ; 
 
 The Sea-nimphs chant their accents shrill ; 
 
 And the Syrens, taught to kill 
 
 With their sweet voyce, 
 
 Make every ecchoing rock reply 
 
 Unto their gentle murmuring noyse 
 
 The praise of Neptune's Empery. 
 
 lix 
 
ERE ENDS THIS EDI-- 
 TION OF FIFTY SONGS 
 BY THOMAS CAMPION, 
 CHOSENBYJOHNGRAY. 
 THE BORDER AND DE- 
 CORATIONS HAVE BEEN DESIGNED 
 AND ENGRAVED BY CHARLES RICK-- 
 ETTS,UNDER WHOSE SUPERVISION 
 THE BOOK HAS BEEN PRINTED 
 AT THE BALLANTYNE PRESS. 
 
 Sold by Messrs. Hacon €j Rickctts at the sign 
 of the Dial, lii Warwick Street, Regent Street 
 
 LONDON 
 mdcccxcvi 
 
 Ixi 
 
i