Tixall Poetry.
27
The foreheads spheire above may shine,
And lovers call it cristalline.
C.Pore-blind, and baren Cupids move
The starles cristallin of love,
But fruitfull Venus still apeares
I' th' lower orbs, or midle spheres.
F.And are not those loves fruitfull spheres,
Wherein the milky way apeares?
And to his banquet who can say
But that the forehead leads the way?
C.They're onely winter frutes that grow
Upon the fronts cold Alpe of snow;
But where both fruit and biome apeare,
Trew spring and paradise is there.
F.Ah! can it be a baren brow
Where Love himself has held the plow?
Or that a fruitles furow, where
His track and footsteps still apeare?
C.Alas! the fronts his comon feild,
That often falow lyes untild;
But in the cheekes' still dowry close,
He pasture finds, and fatter grows.
And lovers call it cristalline.
C.Pore-blind, and baren Cupids move
The starles cristallin of love,
But fruitfull Venus still apeares
I' th' lower orbs, or midle spheres.
F.And are not those loves fruitfull spheres,
Wherein the milky way apeares?
And to his banquet who can say
But that the forehead leads the way?
C.They're onely winter frutes that grow
Upon the fronts cold Alpe of snow;
But where both fruit and biome apeare,
Trew spring and paradise is there.
F.Ah! can it be a baren brow
Where Love himself has held the plow?
Or that a fruitles furow, where
His track and footsteps still apeare?
C.Alas! the fronts his comon feild,
That often falow lyes untild;
But in the cheekes' still dowry close,
He pasture finds, and fatter grows.
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