116
Tixall Poetry.
My drinke nought els but teares falne from my eyes;
And for my light in this obscured shade,
The flames shall serve which from my hart arise:
And at my gates, &c.
And for my light in this obscured shade,
The flames shall serve which from my hart arise:
And at my gates, &c.
A gowne of gray
My body shall attire,
My stafie of broken hopes, wheron He stay:
And late repentance linkt with long dispaire
My couch is fram'd, whereon my limbs He lay:
And at my gates, &c.
My body shall attire,
My stafie of broken hopes, wheron He stay:
And late repentance linkt with long dispaire
My couch is fram'd, whereon my limbs He lay:
And at my gates, &c.
VII.
The Vicissitudes of Love.
How bonny and briske, how pleasant and sweet,
Were Jenny and I, whilst my passion was strong;
Soe eagerly each others flame we did meet,
That a minutes delay then appear'd to be long:
Were Jenny and I, whilst my passion was strong;
Soe eagerly each others flame we did meet,
That a minutes delay then appear'd to be long:
