"Of meddling with such subtle tools, Such dangers that enclose, The moral is, that painted fools Are caught with silken shews. "And when the moon doth once appear, "And have a flock of turtle doves, A guard on us to keep, Which spoke, I felt such holy fires By Cynthia thus do I subsist, On earth heaven's only pride; Let her be mine, and let who list Take all the world beside. THE TRENT. NEAR to the silver Trent She to whom nature lent And the neat Graces, Wherewith to crown her, As it belong'd to them Most to renown her. In a rank Let thy swans sing her, And with their music Along let them bring her. Tagus and Pactolus Are to thee debtor, Nor for their gold to us Are they the better; Henceforth of all the rest, Be thou the river, Which as the daintiest, Puts them down ever. For as my precious one O'er thee doth travel, Turneth thy gravel. Let thy swans sing her, Our mournful Philomel, Shall wake the sooner, For when my love too long As though it suffered wrong, Let thy swans sing her, Oft have I seen the Sun, To look upon her, In clouds hath mourned, Chorus.-On thy bank In a rank Let thy swans sing her, And with their music Along let them bring her. The verdant meads are seen, And every little grass Broad itself spreadeth, Proud that this bonny lass Nor flower is so sweet In this large cincture, But it upon her feet Leaveth some tincture. Chorus. On thy bank In a rank Let thy swans sing her, The fishes in the flood When she doth angle, For the hook strive agood From the clear water, So herself to behold As in her glasses. Let thy swans sing her, |