THOMAS STANLEY

3P4- The Relapse

TURN away those cruel eyes, The stars of my undoing ! Or death, in such a bright disguise, May tempt a second wooing.

Punish their blind and impious pride,

Who dare contemn thy glory; It was my fall that deified

Thy name, and seal'd thy story.

Yet no new sufferings can prepare A higher praise to crown thee;

Though my first death proclaim thee fair, My second will unthrone thee.

Lovers will doubt thou canst entice

No other for thy fuel, And if thou burn one victim twice,

Both think thee poor and cruel.

THOMAS D'URFEY Chke 'Divine

��a Nymph in flowery groves, A Nereid in the streams ; Saint-like she in the temple moves, A woman in my dreams.

Love steals artillery from her eyes, The Graces point her charms ;

Orpheus is rivalled in her voice, And Venus in her arms.

�� �