Drawn For Valentine By The L[Ady] D[Orothy] S[Pencer?].[2:1]

Though 'gainst me Love and Destiny conspire, Though I must waste in an unpitied fire, By the same deity, severe as fair, Commanded adoration and despair; Though I am mark'd for sacrifice, to tell The growing age what dangerous glories dwell In this bright dawn, who, when she spreads her rays, Will challenge every heart, and every praise; Yet she who to all hope forbids my claim, By Fortune's taught indulgence to my flame, Great Queen of Chance! unjustly we exclude Thy power an interest in beatitude, Who with mysterious judgement dost dispense The bounties of unerring Providence; Whilst we, to whom the causes are unknown, Would style that blindness thine, which is our own. As kind, in justice to thyself, as me, Thou hast redeem'd thy name and votary: Nor will I prize this less for being thine, Nor longer at my destiny repine. Counsel and choice are things below thy state: Fortune relieves the cruelties of Fate.

III. LYRICS PRINTED ONLY IN THE EDITION OF 1657 [JOHN GAMBLE'S AYRES AND DIALOGUES] HAVING NO TITLES.

ON THIS SWELLING BANK.

On this swelling bank, once proud Of its burden, Doris lay: Here she smil'd, and did uncloud Those bright suns eclipse the day; Here we sat, and with kind art She about me twin'd her arms, Clasp'd in hers my hand and heart, Fetter'd in those pleasing charms.

Here my love and joys she crown'd, Whilst the hours stood still before me, With a killing glance did wound, And a melting kiss restore me. On the down of either breast, Whilst with joy my soul retir'd, My reclining head did rest, Till her lips new life inspir'd.

Thus, renewing of these sights Doth with grief and pleasure fill me, And the thought of these delights Both at once revive and kill me!

DEAR, FOLD ME ONCE MORE.

Dear, fold me once more in thine arms! And let me know Before I go There is no bliss but in those charms. By thy fair self I swear That here, and only here, I would for ever, ever stay: But cruel Fate calls me away.

How swiftly the light minutes slide! The hours that haste Away thus fast By envious flight my stay do chide. Yet, Dear, since I must go, By this last kiss I vow, By all that sweetness which dwells with thee,[3:1] Time shall move slow, till next I see thee.

THE LAZY HOURS.

The lazy hours move slow, The minutes stay; Old Time with leaden feet doth go, And his light wings hath cast away. The slow-pac'd spheres above Have sure releas'd Their guardians, and without help move, Whilst that the very angels rest.

The number'd sands that slide Through this small glass, And into minutes Time divide, Too slow each other do displace; The tedious wheels of light No faster chime, Than that dull shade which waits on night: For Expectation outruns Time.

How long, Lord, must I stay? How long dwell here? O free me from this loathed clay! Let me no more these fetters wear! With far more joy Shall I resign my breath, For, to my griev'd soul, not to die Is every minute a new death.

IV. LYRICS PRINTED ONLY IN EDITIONS OF 1647 AND 1651.