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Since Widdow-hood more strongly doth enforce
The much-lamented lot of their divorce.
Themselves then of their loffes guilty are
Who may, yet will not suffer a repaire.
Those were Barbarian wives that did invent
Weeping to death at th' Husband's monument,
But in more civil Rites the doth approve
Her first, who ventures on a second Love;
For else it may be thought if she refrain,
She fped fo ill fhe durft not trie again,

Up then my Love, and choose fome worthier one
Who may supply my room when I am gone;
So will the stock of our affection thrive
No lefs in death, then were I still alive.
And in my urne I fhall rejoyce, that I
Am both Teftatour thus and legacie.

Dr. King's Poems,

P. 28.



SKE me why I fend you here,


This firftling of the infant yeare;

Aske me why I send to you,

This primrose all bepearl'd with dew;
I ftrait will whisper in Your eares,
The fweets of Love are wash't with teares.

Afke me why this flower doth fhew
So yellow, greene, and fickly too;
Aske me why the stalke is weake,

And bending yet it doth not breake;
I must tell you
these discover,

What doubts and feares are in a Lover.

Poems by T. Carew Efquire.
Lond. 1640.



BEWARE, fair Maid, of mighty Courtiers oaths,
Take heed what gifts or favours you receive;
Let not the fading gloffe of filken cloaths
Dazzle your vertues, or your fame bereave:

For once but leave the hold you have of Grace,
Who will regard your fortune or your face?

Each greedy hand will strive to catch the flower,
When none regard the stalke it growes upon;
Bafeneffe defires the fruit ftill to devoure,
And leave the tree to fall or stand alone:

But this advise, fair Creature, take of mee,
Let none take fruit unleffe hee'll have the tree.

Beleeve not oaths, nor much-protesting men,
Credit no vowes, nor a bewailing fong;

Let Courtiers fweare, forfweare, and sweare agen,
The heart doth live ten regions from the tongue :

For when with oaths and vows they make you tremble,
Beleeve them least for then they moft diffemble.


Beware left Corfus doe corrupt thy'minde,
Or fond Ambition fell thy modefty;

Say, though a King thou even courteous finde,
Hee cannot pardon thy impurity.

Begin with Kings, to fubjects you will fall,
From Lord to Lackey, and at last to all.

See Epigrams fubjoin'd to J. Sylvester's
Du Bartas. 1641. Lond.

The Frailtye and hurtfulnes of Beautie.

BRITTLE Beautie that Nature made fo fraile,

Whereof the gifte is fmal, and fhort the Season; Flowring to-day, to-morrowe apt to faile,

Tickled treasure, abhorred of reafon:

Dangerous to deale with, vaine, of none availe,
Coftly in keeping, paft, not worthe two peason ;
Slipper in fliding, as is an Eles taile;

Harde to attain, once gotten not geason.
Jewell of jeopardie, that peril doth affaile,
Falfe and untrewe, enticed oft to treason;
Enemy to Youth, that moft may I bewaile;
Ah bitter fwete! infecting as the poyson,
Thou farest as frute, that with the froft is taken,
To-day redy ripe, to-morrow al to shaken




SWEET Rofe, whence is this hue

Which does all hues excell?
Whence this most fragrant smell?

And whence this form and gracing grace in you?
In flow'ry Poftum's fields perhaps you grew,
Or Hybla's hills you bred,

Or odoriferous Enna's plains you fed,

Or Tmolus, or where boar young Adon flew;
Or hath the Queen of Love you dy'd of new
In that dear blood, which makes you look fo red?

No, none of thefe, but cause more high you blift,
My Lady's breaft you bore, her lips you kift.

Drummond's Son, and Madrig,
Edinb. Ed. 1711. Fol.

DRY thofe fair, thofe chrystal eyes

Which like growing fountains rife

To drown their banks. Griefs fullen brooks
Would better flow in furrow'd looks.

Thy lovely face was never meant

To be the fhoar of difcontent.




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