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Silvia

Who hath the hair, which loosest fastest tieth?
Who makes a man live then glad when he dieth?
To you! to you! all song of praise is due;
Only of you the flatterer never lieth.

Who hath the voice, which soul from senses sunders?
Whose force but yours the bolts of beauty thunders?
To you! to you! all song of praise is due;
Only with you not miracles are wonders.

Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth,
Which now my breast, o'ercharged, to music lendeth?
To you! to you! all song of praise is due;
Only in you my song begins and endeth.

Philip Sidney [1554-1586]

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SILVIA

From "The Two Gentlemen of Verona"

WHO is Silvia? What is she?

That all our swains commend her?

Holy, fair, and wise is she;

The heaven such grace did lend her,
That she might admired be.

Is she kind as she is fair?

For beauty lives with kindness:
Love doth to her eyes repair,

To help him of his blindness;
And, being helped, inhabits there.

Then to Silvia let us sing,

That Silvia is excelling;

She excels each mortal thing

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Upon the dull earth dwelling:

To her let us garlands bring..

William Shakespeare (1564-1616]

CUPID AND CAMPASPE
From "Alexander and Campaspe",
CUPID and my Campaspe played
At cards for kisses; Cupid paid:

He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows,
His mother's doves, and team of sparrows;
Loses them too; then down he throws

The coral of his lip, the rose

Growing on's cheek (but none knows how);
With these, the crystal of his brow,
And then the dimple on his chin;
All these did my Campaspe win:
And last he set her both his eyes-
She won, and Cupid blind did rise.

O Love! has she done this to thee?
What shall, alas! become of me?

John Lyly [1554?—1606]

APOLLO'S SONG

From "Midas "

My Daphne's hair is twisted gold,
Bright stars apiece her eyes do hold,
My Daphne's brow enthrones the Graces,
My Daphne's beauty stains all faces,

On Daphne's check grow rose and cherry,
On Daphne's lip a sweeter berry,

Daphne's snowy hand but touched does melt,
And then no heavenlier warmth is felt,

My Daphne's voice tunes all the spheres,

My Daphne's music charms all cars.
Fond am I thus to sing her praise;

These glories now are turned to bays.

John Lyly [1554?-1606]

"FAIR IS MY LOVE FOR APRIL'S IN HER FACE "

From "Perimedes"

FAIR is my love for April's in her face,

Her lovely breasts September claims his part,

And lordly July in her eyes takes place,

But cold December dwelleth in her heart;

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Blest be the months that set my thoughts on fire,
Accurst that month that hindereth my desire.

Like Phoebus' fire, so sparkle both her eyes,
As air perfumed with amber is her breath,
Like swelling waves her lovely breasts do rise,

As earth, her heart, cold, dateth me to death:
Aye me, poor man, that on the earth do live,
When unkind earth death and despair doth give!

In pomp sits mercy seated in her face,

Love 'twixt her breasts his trophies doth imprint, Her eyes shine favor, courtesy, and grace,

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But touch her heart, ah, that is framed of flint! Therefore my harvest in the grass bears grain; The rock will wear, washed with a winter's rain. Robert Greene [1560?-1592]

SAMELA

From "Menaphon"

LIKE to Diana in her summer weed,

Girt with a crimson robe of brightest dye,
Goes fair Samela;

Whiter than be the flocks that straggling feed,
When washed by Arethusa's Fount they lie,
Is fair Samela.

As fair Aurora in her morning-gray,
Decked with the ruddy glister of her love,
Is fair Samela;

Like lovely Thetis on a calmèd day,

Whenas her brightness Neptune's fancy move,
Shines fair Samela.

Her tresses gold, her eyes like glassy streams,
Her teeth are pearl, the breasts are ivory
Of fair Samela;

Her cheeks like rose and lily yield forth gleams;
Her brows bright arches framed of ebony:

Thus fair Samela

Passeth fair Venus in her bravest hue,
And Juno in the show of majesty,
For she's Samela;

Pallas, in wit, all three, if you well view,
For beauty, wit, and matchless dignity

Yield to Samela.

Robert Greene [1560?~1592]

DAMELUS' SONG OF HIS DIAPHENIA

DIAPHENIA like the daffadowndilly,

White as the sun, fair as the lily,

Heigh ho, how I do love thee!

I do love thee as my lambs

Are beloved of their dams;

How blest were I if thou would'st prove me.

Diaphenia like the spreading roses,

That in thy sweets all sweets encloses,
Fair sweet, how I do love thee!

I do love thee as each flower

Loves the sun's life-giving power;

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For dead, thy breath to life might move me.

Diaphenia like to all things blessed,
When all thy praises are expressed,

Dear joy, how I do love thee!
As the birds do love the spring,
Or the bees their careful king:

Then in requite, sweet virgin, love me!

Henry Constable [1562-1613]

MADRIGAL

My love in her attire doth show her wit,

It doth so well become her;

For every season she hath dressings fit,
For Winter, Spring, and Summer.

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I SAW fair Chloris walk alone,
When feathered rain came swiftly down,
As Jove descending from his Tower
To court her in a silver shower:
The wanton snow flew to her breast,
Like pretty birds into their nest,
But, overcome with whiteness there,
For grief it thawed into a tear:

Thence falling on her garment's hem,
To deck her, froze into a gem.

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"THERE IS A LADY SWEET AND KIND"

THERE is a lady sweet and kind,
Was never face so pleased my mind;
I did but see her passing by,
And yet I love her till I die.

Her gesture, motion, and her smiles,
Her wit, her voice my heart beguiles,
Beguiles my heart, I know not why,
And yet I love her till I die.

Cupid is winged and doth range,
Her country so my love doth change:

But change she earth, or change she sky,
Yet I will love her till I die.

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