Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/131

 ANONYMOUS

But my vain Hopes, proud of their new-taught flight, Enamour'd sought to woo the sun's fair light,

Whose rich brightness

Moved their lightness

To aspire so high

That, all scorch'd and consumed with fire, now drown'd in woe they lie.

And none but Love their woeful hap did rue, For Love did know that their desires were true;

Though Fate frowned,

And now drowned

They in sorrow dwell, It was the purest light of heav'n for whose fair love they fell.

��Madrigal

Davison's Poetical Rhapsody, 1602.

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. No beauty she doth mibS

When all her robes arc on: But Beauty's self she is

When all her robes are gone.

�� �