O, cruel spite!
Break all your pipes that wont to sound
With pleasant cheer,
And cast yourselves upon the ground
To wail my Dear!
Come, shepherd swains, come, nymphs, and all a-row
To help me cry:
Dead is my Love, and, seeing She is so,
Lo, now I die!

From _Two Books of Airs_, by THOMAS CAMPION (circ. 1613).

Come, you pretty false-eyed wanton,
Leave your crafty smiling!
Think you to escape me now
With slipp'ry words beguiling?
No; you mocked me th' other day;
When you got loose, you fled away;
But, since I have caught you now,
I'll clip your wings for flying:
Smoth'ring kisses fast I'll heap
And keep you so from crying.

Sooner may you count the stars
And number hail down-pouring,
Tell the osiers of the Thames,
Or Goodwin sands devouring,
Than the thick-showered kisses here
Which now thy tired lips must bear.
Such a harvest never was
So rich and full of pleasure,
But 'tis spent as soon as reaped,
So trustless is lore's treasure.

From THOMAS CAMPION's _Third Book of Airs_ (circ. 1613).

Could my heart more tongues employ
Than it harbours thoughts of grief,
It is now so far from joy
That it scarce could ask relief:
Truest hearts by deeds unkind
To despair are most inclined.

Happy minds that can redeem
Their engagements how they please,
That no joys or hopes esteem
Half so precious as their ease:
Wisdom should prepare men so,
As if they did all foreknow.

Yet no art or caution can
Grown affections easily change;
Use is such a lord of man
That he brooks worst what is strange:
Better never to be blest
Than to lose all at the best.

From WILLIAM BYRD's _Psalms, Songs, and Sonnets_, 1611.

Crowned with flowers I saw fair Amaryllis
By Thyrsis sit, hard by a fount of crystal,
And with her hand more white than snow or lilies,
On sand she wrote _My faith shall be immortal_:
And suddenly a storm of wind and weather
Blew all her faith and sand away together.

From THOMAS RAVENSCROFT's _Brief Discourse_, 1614.

THE FAIRIES' DANCE.

Dare you haunt our hallow'd green?
None but fairies here are seen.
Down and sleep,
Wake and weep,
Pinch him black, and pinch him blue,
That seeks to steal a lover