Facetiae : Musarum deliciae, or, The Muses recreation, conteining ...

Facetiae : Musarum deliciae, or, The Muses recreation, conteining ... Facetiae : Musarum deliciae, or, The Muses recreation, conteining ...

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34 8 Fancies and Fantasticks,Wee'l pluck the wheels from th'charry of the Sun,That he may giveUs time to live ;Till that our Scene be done.Wee'l suffer viperous thoughts, and cares,To follow after silver haires ;Let's not anticipate them long before ;When they begin,To enter in,Each minute they'l grow more.No, no, Marina^ see this brookHow't would its posting course revoke,Ere it shall in the Ocean mingled lye,And what I pray,May cause this stay ;But to attest our joy ?Far be't from lust ,such wild fire, ne'reShall dare to lurk or kindle here ;Diviner flames shall in our fancies roule,Which not depresseTo earthlinesse,But elevate the soule.Then shall a grandiz'd love, confesse,That souls can mingle substances ;That hearts can easily counter-changed be,Or at the least,Can alter breasts,When breasts themselves agree.

Fancies and Fantasticks. 349To Julia,Tis Evening my sweet,And dark ;let us meet ;Long time w'have here been a toying :And never as yetrThat season co'd get,Wherein t'have had an enjoying.For pitty or shame,Then let not loves flame,:Be ever and ever a spending ;Since now to the Port;>TThe pathis but short ;And yet our way has no ending.VTime flyes away fast ;Our howres do wast ;The while we never remember,How soon our life, here,Grows old with the yeere,That dyes with the next December.Of Beauty.M.U tsS>rsTil J1 wWhat do I hate, what's Beauty ?How doth itpasse ?As flowers, assoon as smelled atlasseEvaporate,Even so this shadow, ere our eyesCan view it, flies.

Fancies and Fantasticks. 349To Julia,Tis Evening my sweet,And dark ;let us meet ;Long time w'have here been a toying :And never as yetrThat season co'd get,Wherein t'have had an enjoying.F<strong>or</strong> pitty <strong>or</strong> shame,<strong>The</strong>n let not loves flame,:Be ever and ever a spending ;Since now to the P<strong>or</strong>t;>T<strong>The</strong> pathis but sh<strong>or</strong>t ;And yet our way has no ending.VTime flyes away fast ;Our howres do wast ;<strong>The</strong> while we never remember,How soon our life, here,Grows old with the yeere,That dyes with the next December.Of Beauty.M.U tsS>rsTil J1 wWhat do I hate, what's Beauty ?How doth itpasse ?As flowers, assoon as smelled atlasseEvap<strong>or</strong>ate,Even so this shadow, ere our eyesCan view it, flies.

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