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114 Now order my affaires for bloudy warre, For heere I vow this loue shall be my last, No more shall downy pleasure, like a barre, Stop my designes that now at honour gast, Shoote prophet on my forhead a blessed starre, A Tygers fiercenesse, and my heart shall moue, Because with _Hiren_ all affections past, I'le pitty none, for pitty begets loue. _FINIS._ THE LOVE OF AMOS AND LAVRA. written by S. P. LONDON Printed for Richard Hawkins, dwelling in Chancery-Lane: neere Sarieants-Inne. 1613. TO MY APPROVED AND MVCH RESPECTED FRIEND, _Iz: Wa:_ To thee thou more then thrice beloued friend, I too vnworthie of so great a blisse: These harsh tun'd lines I here to thee commend, Thou being cause it is now as it is: For hadst thou held thy tongue by silence might, These had bene buried in obliuions night. If they were pleasing, I would call them thine, And disavow my title to the verse: But being bad, I needs must call them mine, No ill thing can be clothed in thy verse. Accept them then, and where I haue offended, Rase thou it out, and let it be amended. _S. P._ THE AVTHOR TO HIS BOOKE. Go little booke into the largest world, And blase the chastnes of thy maiden Muse: Regardles of all enuie on thee hurld, By the vnkindnes that the readers vse: And those that enuie thee by scruples letter, Bid them take pen in hand and make a better. THE LOVE OF _Amos_ and _Laura_. In the large confines of renowned _France_ There liu'd a Lord, whom Fortune did aduance, VVho had a Daughter, _Laura_ call'd the faire; So sweet, so proper, and so debonaire, That strangers tooke her for to be none other, Then _Venus_ selfe, the God of _Loues_ owne Mother. Not farre from thence was scituate a Towne, The Lord thereof a man of great renowne; VVhom likewise Fortune blessed with a Sonne, _Amos_ by name, so modest, ciuill, yong, And yet in sight so wondrous and so bold, As that therein he passed vncontroul'd: So kinde to strangers, and so meeke to all; Of comely grace, and stature somewhat tall. As the wide world not two such Impes affords, As were the off-springs of these happy Lords. Hunting he lou'd, and therefore in a morne He shakes off sleepe (for ease he laughes to scorne) Before
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