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Robert Iones

THE MUSES GARDIN FOR DELIGHTS

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THE TABLE.

Loue loue.
Soft Cupid soft.
Aze I the silly fish beguile.
The fountaines smoake.
Walking by the Riuer side.
I cannot chuse but giue a smile.
Ioy in thy hopes.
How many New yeeres haue growen olde.
There was a shepheard that did liue.
The Sea hath many thousand sands.
Once did my thoughts both ebbe and flow.
I am so farre from pittying thee.
As I lay lately in a dreame.
There was a willy ladde.
My father faine would haue me take.
My Loue hath her true Loue betraide.
All my sence thy sweetenesse gained.
To thee deafe Aspe with dying voice.
Behold her lockes like wires of beaten Gold.
Although the Wings of my desires be clipte.
Might I redeeme mine errors with mine eyes.

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F I N I S .

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