Do not conceal no beauty, grace
That's either in thy mind or face;
Lest Virtue overcome by Vice
Make men believe no Paradise.
I prithee leave this peevish fashion,
Dont desire to be high-priz'd,
Love's a princely noble passion,
And doth scorn to be despis'd.
Though we say you're fair, you know
We your beauty do bestow,
For our fancy makes you so.
Dont be proud 'cause we adore you,
We do't only for our pleasure;
And those parts in which you glory
We by fancy weigh and measure.
When for deities you go,
For angels or for queens, pray know
'Tis our own fancy makes you so.
Dont suppose your Majesty
By tyranny's best signified,
And your angelic Natures be
Distinguished only by your pride.
Tyrants make subjects rebels grow,
And pride makes angels devils below,
And your pride may make you so!
I have been in love, and in debt, and in drink-
This many and many year;
And those three are plagues enough, one would think,
For one poor mortal to bear.
'Twas drink made me fall into love,
And love made me run into debt;
And though I have struggled, and struggled and strove, I cannot get out of them yet.
There's nothing but money can cure me,
And rid me of all my pain; 'Twill pay all my debts,
And remove all my lets;
And my mistress that cannot endure me,
Will love me, and love me again :
Then I'll fall to loving and drinking again.
[Brome is supposed to have written many Songs against the Rump Parliament.]
Tell me not of a face that's fair,
Nor lip and cheek that's red,
Nor of the tresses of her hair,
Nor curls in order laid;
Nor of a rare seraphic voice,
That like an angel sings;
Though if I were to take my choice,
I would have all these things.
But if that thou wilt have me love,
And it must be a she;
The only argument can move
Is, that she will love me
The glories of your ladies be
But metaphors of things,
And but resemble what we see
Each common object brings.
Roses, outred their lips and cheeks,
Lilies their whiteness stain :
What fool is he that shadow seeks,
And may the substance gain!
Then if thou'lt have me love a lass,
Let it be one that's kind,
Else I'm a servant to the glass-
That's with Canary lin❜d.
Born about 1624-Died in 1678.
When, dearest beauty, thou shalt pay
Thy faith and my vain hope away
To some dull sóul, that cannot know
The worth of that thou dost bestow;
Lest with my sighs and tears I might
Disturb thy unconfin'd delight,
To some dark shade will I retire,
And there forgot by all, expire.
Thus, whilst the difference thou shalt prove
Betwixt a feign'd and real love,
Whilst he, more happy, but less true,
Shall reap those joys I did pursue,
And with those pleasures crowned be
By fate, which love design'd for me,
Then thou perhaps thy self will find
Cruel too long or too soon kind.
IN PRAISE OF LOVE AND WINE.
Invest my head with fragrant rose,
That on fair Flora's bosom grows!
Distend my veins with purple juice,
That mirth may through my soul diffuse!
'Tis wine and love, and love in wine
Inspires our youth with flames divine.
Thus, crown'd with Paphian myrtle, I
In Cyprian shades will bathing lie;
Whose snow if too much cooling, then
Bacchus shall warm my blood again.
"Tis wine and love, and love in wine
Inspires our youth with flames divine.
Life's short, and winged pleasures fly;
Who mourning live, do living die.
On down and floods then, swan-like, I
Will stretch my limbs, and singing die.
'Tis wine and love, and love in wine,
Inspires our youth with flames divine.
[From "Clarastella," a collection of Poems in one volume. 12mo. 1650.]
Poor Chloris wept, and from her eyes
The liquid tears ran trickling down;
(Such melting drops might well suffice
To pay a ransom for a crown)
And as she wept, she sighing said,
"Alas for me, unhappy maid
That by my folly am betray'd!"
But when those eyes (unhappy eyes!)
Met with the object of my woe,
Methought our souls did sympathize,
And it was death to hear a no.
He woo'd; I granted, then befell
My shame, which I do shame to tell
O that I had not lov'd so well!
And had I been so wise as not
T'have yielded up my virgin fort;
My name had been without a blot,
And thwarted th' envy of report.
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