Mafter, and fervant, are names banish'd thence:
They wear one fetter all, or all one freedom.

Cartwright's Lady Errant.

The vine, that climbs

By conjugal embracements 'bout the elm,
May with a ring or two perhaps encircle

Some neighb'ring bough; and yet this twining prove,
Not the offence, but charity of love.

Cartwright's Royal Slave.

Wisdom and leve at once, were never yet

Permitted to a god; I muft not then
Prefume they meet in me. If love admits
Difcretion; if it ponder, and confider,

Search, and compare, and judge, and then refolve;
'Tis policy, not affection: give it eyes,
Council and order, and it ceaseth. What
Though it first brake from out the chaos? 'twas
To make another in the creature.

Diftance,

Figure, and lineament, are things that come
From fomething more advis'd; love never leads,
It still transports. The motions which it feels,
Are fury, rapture, extafy, and fuch

As thrult it out full of instinct, and deity,
To meet what it defires.

2. Alas! it felf

Hath eyes; but 'tis our blindness that doth veil them :
If love could not confift with wifdom, then

The world were govern'd by one gen'ral madness.
1. 'Tis not deny'd but that we may have wildom
Before we love; as men may have good eyes
Before they fix them on the fun but dwell they
A while upon it, and they ftrait grow blind
From those admired beauties,

"Cartwright's Lady Errant.

Give me a lover bold and free,
Not eunuch'd with formality;
Like an Embaffador that beds a Queen,
With the nice caution of a fword between.

Cleveland.

Love's like a landskip, which doth stand,
Smooth at a distance; rough at hand.

1. Tell me what you think on earth
The greatest blifs?

2. Riches, honour, and high birth.
1. Ah, what is this?

If love be banished the heart,
The joy of nature, not of art?

What's honour, worth, or high defcent?
Or ample wealth,

If cares do breed us discontent,

Or want of health?

2. It is the order of the fates,

That these should wait on highest states.

Love only does our fouls refine,
And by his skill

Turns human things into divine,

And guides our will.

Then let us of his praises fing,

Cleveland.

Of love, that fweetens ev'ry thing.

Rutter's Shepherd's Holyday.

For oft we find that forms and forrows prove,

The best forerunners of a happy love.

Machen's Dumb Knight.

Love can't be master'd, Sir:
As foon as mast'ry comes, fweet love anon
'Taketh his nimble wings, and foon is gone.

Nevile's Poor Scholar.

Such gentle rape thou act'ft upon my foul,
And with fuch pleafing violence dost force it still,
That when it should refift, it tamely yields,
Making a kind of hafte to be undone ;
As if the way to victory were loss,

And conqueft came by overthrow.

Suckling's Aglaura”.

Lovers

Lovers in favour, are gamefters in good

Fortune; the more you fet them, they more they get.
Suckling's Brennoralt.
Love that can flow, and can admit increase;
Admits as well an ebb, and may grow lefs.

How weak is lovers laws!

Suckling.

The bonds made there, like gypfy's knots, with ease Are fast and loofe, as they that hold them please.

Suckling.

Love's a Camelion, that lives on meer air;

And furfeits, when it comes to groffer fare.

Suckling.

There never yet was honest man

That ever drove the trade of love;

It is impoffible; nor can

Integrity our ends promove:

For kings and lovers are alike in this,

That their chief art in reign, diffembling is,

Here we are lov'd, and there we love ;
Good nature now and paffion strive
Which of the two should be above,
And laws unto the other give :

So we false fire with art fometimes discover,
And the true fire with the fame art do cover.

What rack can fancy find fo high?

Here we must court, and here ingage,

Though in the other place we die :

O'tis torture all, and cozenage!

And which the harder is, I cannot tell,

To hide to true love, or make falfe love look well.

Since it is thus, god of defire,

Give me my honesty again;

And take thy brands back, and thy fire;
I'm weary of the ftate I'm in :'

Since, if the very best should now befall,
Love's triumph, must be honour's funeral.

Suckling.

He that is content with laffes, cloathed in plain woollen, May cool his heart in ev'ry place, he need not to be fullen, Nor figh for love of lady fair; for this each wife man knows,

As good stuff under flannel lies, as under filken cloaths.
Suckling.

1. It is ill done, Semanthe, to plead bankrupt,
When with fuch eafe you may be out of debt.
In love's dominions, native commodity
Is current payment; change is all the trade,
And heart for heart, the richest merchandize.

2. 'Twould here be mean, my lord; fince mine would prove

In your hands but a counterfeit ; and yours in mine
Worth nothing fympathy, not greatness,

Makes thofe jewels rife in value.

1. Sympathy! O teach but yours to love then, And two fo rich no mortal ever knew.

2. That heart would love but ill, that must be taught Such fires as thefe, ftill kindle of themfelves.

1. In fuch a cold and frozen place as is

Thy breaft, how should they kindle of themselves? 2. Ask how the flint can carry fire within ?

'Tis the leaft miracle that love can do.

She quite o'ercame

Suckling's Aglaura

My dallying thoughts, and turn'd them at length
To a true dotage. O fhe would often fit

And breath a cloud of fighs; tell me how much
I fhould abuse a credulous virgin, if
I did but perfonate that love I made:
How if I did enjoy another mistress,

Her ghoft, for fure fhe could not well out live it,
Would fright my foul from this my body to her:
O fhe would caft fuch pow'rful glances on me ;
Such charming fpirits danc'd in the bright rays
Of ev'ry view, they did draw up my foul,
And chain'd it faft to hers: Thus the fond lark

Playing

Playing about the glitt'ring fnare does tempt
The nets, and dares it's prifon; till at length
He finds his liberty betray'd, and all
That pomp of brightness but a glorious bait.

Mead's Combat of Love and Friendship.

So rich a bondage is Poppa's love,

That I were base, if I fhould wish for freedom;
Nay more, ingrate; fhould I defire to change
So fweet a care for quietness itself:

Should I fuppofe that ftate, which fome dull fouls
Call calm content, were half fo rich, fo free,
As are these pinings, this captivity?

Were there in love no cares, no fighs, no fears;
There were in love, no happiness at all.

For cupid's scholars are more exquifite
In giving council, than in ufing it.

May's Agrippina.

Richard Brome's Love-Sick Court. Love, thou art well compar'd to fire; which, where

t doth obey and serve, being commanded

By higher powers of the foul; it fares

Like to the stone or jewel of a ring,

Which joins the orb, and gives it price and life:
So glorious is that love, fo neceffary;
But, where it rules, and is predominant,
It tyrannizeth; reafon is imprifon'd;
The will confined; and the memory
The treasury of notions, clean exhausted;
And all the fenfes flavifhly chain'd up
To act th' injunctions of infulting love
Pearch'd on the beauty of a Woman. Thou

Masculine love, known by the name of friendship,

Art peaceful, and morigerous; but that

Of Woman, is imperious and cruel.

Ev'n he, that knows not to poffefs

True happiness,

Ibid.

But

H