〈♫〉 TWo Louers sat la- menting, hard by a Christall brooke, Each 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 others hart tor- menting, Exchanging looke for looke, With sighes and teares bewraying, Their 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 silent thoughts de- laying, At last coth one, shall wee a- lone, sit here our thoughts bewraying? 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 Fie, fie, fie, fie, fie, Oh fie, it may not be, Set looking by, let speaking set vs free. 〈♫〉

〈♫〉 TIs true, t'is day, what though it be? and will you 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 therefore rise from me? What will you rise, what will you rise because tis light? Did we lye 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 downe because twas Night? Loue that in spight of darknesse brought vs he- ther, 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 In spight of Light should keepe vs still to- ge- ther, In spight of Light should keepe vs still to- 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 gether. In spight of Light should keepe vs still to- ge- ther. 〈♫〉

〈♫〉 SHall I be with ioyes deceiued? Can Loues bands be 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 sealed with kisses? Cupid of his eyes be- reaued, 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 Yet in darknesse seldome misses, Let not dallying lose these blisses, Let not dallying 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 lose these blisses. 〈♫〉

〈♫〉 DOwne, downe proud minde, thou soarest farre aboue thy might, Aspiring 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 heart, wilt thou not cease to breed my woe? High thoughts, meete with dis- daine, Peace and Loue 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 fight, Peace thou hast wone the field, and Loue shall hence in bon- dage goe. 〈♫〉

〈♫〉 BEware faire Maides of Musky Courtiers oathes, Take heede, take 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 heede what gifts and fauours you receiue, Let not the fading glosse of Silken Clothes, Dazell your 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 vertues, or your fame be- reaue. For loose but once the hould you haue of Grace, 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 Who will re- gard your fortune, or your face? Who will regard your 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 fortune, or your face? 〈♫〉

〈♫〉 GOe hea- uy thoughts downe to the place of woe, Tell Griefe, tell 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 Paine, and torments how they vsde mee, Say vnto Sorrow who is now my foe, And fretfulnes which 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 long time hath abusde mee, Mauger them all, in time they shall excuse mee, Till then my 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 hart shall beare my wrongs so hie. Vntill the strings doe burst, and then I dye. 〈♫〉

〈♫〉 MY deerest Mistrisse, let vs liue and loue, And care not what old doting 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 fooles re- proue, Let vs not feare their sensures, nor e-steeme, What they of vs and of our loues shall 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 deeme, Old ages critticke and sensorious brow, Cannot of youthfull dal-liance alow, Nor neuer could en- 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 dure that wee should tast, Of those delights which they themselues are past. 〈♫〉

〈♫〉 MAn like a Prophet of ensuing yeeres, Beginnes his life with cryes, hee 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 ends with paine, The rest is so di- stract twixt hopes and feares, That life seemes but a losse and death a 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 gaine, My hopelesse loue is like my haplesse life, Begun in paine, and ends it selfe in griefe. 〈♫〉

〈♫〉 AS by a fountaine chast Di- a- na sate, 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 Viewing of Natures pride, her beauteous face, The waters boild with 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 loue, she boyles with hate, Chastning their pride with exile from their place; -They murmuring ranne to 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 Sea and being there; Each liquid drop turn'd to a bri- nish teare. 〈♫〉

〈♫〉 AWay, away, a- way, call backe what you haue said, When you did vow to liue and dye a Maid, O 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 if you knew what shame to them befell, That dance about with bobtaile Apes in hell, You'd breake your oath, and 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 for a world of gaine, From Hymens pleasing sports no more abstaine. Your selfe, your Virgin girdle would diuide, 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 And put aside, and put aside, repeat the Maiden vaile that hides the chiefest Iemme of Nature. And would lye, 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 Prostrate to eu'ry Peasant that goes by, Rather then vnder- goe such shame, No tongue can tell, what iniury is 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 done to Maids in hell. No tongue can tell, What iniury is done to Maids in hell. 〈♫〉

〈♫〉 FLy swift my thoughts, pos- sessemy Mi- stris 〈♫〉 Fly swift my thoughts, pos- sesse my Mi- stris 〈♫〉 heare, And as you finde her loue plead my de- sert, If she be 〈♫〉 heart, my Mistrisse hart, And as you finde her loue plead my de- sert, If she be 〈♫〉 somewhat wayward happy my de- sires, A lit- tle coynesse doth but blow mens fires, But 〈♫〉 somewhat wayward happy my desires, A lit- tle coynesse doth but blow mens fires, But will 〈♫〉 will she needs forbid the baines I craue, Re- tire, re- tire, and be buri'd in your Masters graue. 〈♫〉 she needs forbid the baines I craue, Re- tire and be buri'd in your Masters graue.

〈♫〉 A Lesson for two Lyra Violls. 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 〈♫〉

〈♫〉 A Lesson for two Lyra Violls. 〈♫〉 〈♫〉 〈♫〉