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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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