Some asked how Pearls did grow, and where?
Then spoke I to my Girl,
To part her lips, and showed them there
The quarelets of Pearl.
* * * * *
_On her Feet_.
Her pretty feet, like snails, did creep
A little out, and then,
As if they played at Bo-peep,
Did soon draw in again.
_To the Virgins to make much of Time_.
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying,
And this same flower, that smiles to-day,
To-morrow will be dying.
* * * * *
_Night Piece to Julia_.
Her eyes the glowworm lend thee,
The shooting stars attend thee;
And the elves also,
Whose little eyes glow
Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee.
* * * * *
SIR RICHARD LOVELACE.
1618-1658.
_Orpheus to Beasts_.
Oh! could you view the melody
Of every grace,
And music of her face,
You'd drop a tear;
Seeing more harmony
In her bright eye,
Than now you hear.
* * * * *
_To Lucasta on Going to the Wars_.
I could not love thee, dear, so much,
Loved I not honor more.
_To Althea from Prison_.
Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron barres a cage;
Mindes innocent, and quiet, take
That for an hermitage.
* * * * *
JAMES SHIRLEY.
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