Goune made of gray, and skin softe as silke, Breath as sweet as morning milke ; O, these more please ! These hath my Jone to delight me: False wiles, courte-smiles, None of these hath Jone to despight me. LXII. SYMPTOMS OF LOVE. [From "The Muses Gardin.” 1610.] ONCE did my thoughts both ebb and flow, Once did I waking spend the night, And told how many minutes move, Once did I wishing waste the day, And then I was in love. Once by my carving true loves knot, That wounds and tears were both our lots, Once did I breath another's breath, And in my mistress move, Once was I not mine own at all, Once wore I bracelets made of hair, Once were my cloaths made out of wax, And then I was in love. Once did I sonnet to my saint, Once in my ear did dangling hang A little turtle dove, And then I was in love. LXIII. THE SHEPHERD'S LOVE FOR PHILLIDAY, [From the Muses Garden.] THERE was a shepherd that did live, As were the mounts whereon his flocks He from his youth, his tender youth, Or hopes, or fears, or loves, or cares, Did with his dog as shepherds do, Devise some sports, though foolish sports, Yet sports for shepherds fit. The boy that yet was but a boy, And so desires were hid, Did grow a man, and men must love, He loved much, none can too much Love one so high divine As but herself, none but herself So fair, so fresh, so fine, 1 He vowed by his shepherd's weed, LXIV. "The Maidens Complaint of her Loves inconstancie, Shewing it forth in every degree: Shee being left as one forlorne, With sorrowes shee her selfe to adorne And seemes for to lament and mourne." To a delicate new tune. You maids and wives, and women kind, I love where I have cause to hate, I sigh and sob, and then do weep, My love to me doth prove untrue, He's fled and gone for which I grieve, Shall I be bound that may be free, Which makes me sigh, and sob, and weep O shall I weep or shall I sing, |