THOMAS CAMPION

Her eyes like angels watch them still ;

Her brows like bended bows do stand, Threat'ning with piercing frowns to kill All that attempt with eye or hand Those sacred cherries to come nigh, Till ' Cherry-ripe ' themselves do cry.

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��itfp. Laura,

OSE-CHEEK'D Laura, come;

Sing thou smoothly with thy beauty's Silent music, either other Sweetly gracing.

Lovely forms do flow From concent divinely framed : Heaven is music, and thy beauty's Birth is heavenly.

These dull notes we sing Discords need for helps to grace them ; Only beauty purely loving Knows no discord ;

But still moves delight, Like clear springs renew'd by flowing, Ever perfect, ever in them selves eternal.

'Devotion

170. i

LLOW thy fair sun, unhappy shadow! Though thou be black as night, And she made all of light, Yet follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow !

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