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I. II. III. IIII. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII. XIIII. XV. XVI. XVII. XVIII. XIX. XX. XXI. XXII. XXIII. XXIIII. XXV. XXVI. XXVII. XXVIII. |
Like Hermit poore. Come home my troubled thoughts. Come away. Deere, when to thee. Faine I would. Come my Celia. So, so leaue off. Young and simple though I am. Drowne not with teares. I am a Louer. Why stayes the Bridegroome. Sing we then heroyque grace. Sing the riches of his skill. Sing the Nobles of his race. With what new thoughts. Flye from the world. Shall I seeke to ease my griefe ? If all these Cupids now were blinde. It was no pollicie of Court. Yes were the loues. So beautie on the waters stood. Had those that dwell. If all the ages of the earth. Vnconstant Loue. O eyes, O mortall starres. Faire cruell Nymph. What shall I wish. Tell me O Loue. |
1.Part. 2.Part. 3.Part. 1.Part. 2.Part. 3.Part. Dialogue. Dialogue. Dialogue. |
see: Th.Campion: Fovrth Booke, No.IX see: R.Iones: Ultimum Vale, No.14 see: R.Iones: Ultimum Vale, No.4 |
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