There'll be a coat o'er the chair,

There will be slippers for somebody;
There'll be a wife's tender care,-

Love's fond embracement for somebody:
There'll be the little one's charms,-
Soon 'twill be waken'd for somebody;
When I have both in my arms,

Oh! but how blest will be somebody!

CHARLES SWAIN

TELL ME NOT, SWEET, I AM UNKIND.

TELL me not, sweet, I am unkind,

That from the nunnery

Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind
To war and arms I fly.

True, a new mistress now I chase,

The first foe in the field;

And with a stronger faith embrace
A sword, a horse, a shield.
Yet this inconstancy is such
As you too shall adore;

I could not love you, dear, so much,

Loved I not honour more.

LOVELACE.

LIKE THE VIOLET, WHICH ALONE.

IKE the violet, which alone

Prospers in some happy shade,

My Castara lives unknown,
To no looser eye betray'd;

For she's to herself untrue
Who delights i' th' public view.

Such is her beauty, as no arts

Have enrich'd with borrow'd grace;

For a high birth no pride imparts,
For she blushes in her place;
Folly boasts a glorious blood-
She is noblest, being good.

She her throne makes reason climb,
Whilst wild passions captive lie;

And, each article of time,

Her pure thoughts to heaven fly.

All her vows religious be,

And her love she vows to me.

HABINGTON.

THE GARDEN.

THE bow'r of innocence and bliss
Sin caus'd to disappear:

Repent, and walk in faith and love,

You'll find an Eden here.

BISHOP HOrne.

MONTROSE TO HIS LOVE.

As Alexander I will reign,
And I will reign alone;
My soul did evermore disdain
A rival on my throne.

He either fears his fate too much,

Or his deserts are small,

That dares not put it to the touch
To gain or lose it all.

But if thou wilt prove faithful then,
And constant of thy word,
I'll make thee glorious by my pen,
And famous by my sword.
I'll serve thee in such noble ways

Was never heard before;

I'll crown and deck thee all with bays,

And love thee more and more.

MONTROSE.

TO ALTHEA.

HEN love with unconfinèd wings
Hovers within my gates,
And my divine Althea brings

To whisper at the grates;
When I lie tangled in her hair,
And fetter'd to her eye,

The birds, that wanton in the air,
Know no such liberty.

When flowing cups run swiftly round With no allaying Thames,

Our careless heads with roses bound, Our hearts with loyal flames; When thirsty grief in wine we steep,

When healths and draughts go free,

Fishes, that tipple in the deep,

Know no such liberty.

When-like committed linnets-I
With shriller throat shall sing
The sweetness, mercy, majesty,
And glories of my King;
When I shall voice aloud how good
He is, how great should be,
Enlarged winds, that curl the flood,
Know no such liberty.

Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take

That for an hermitage;

If I have freedom in my love,
And in my soul am free,

Angels alone that soar above

Enjoy such liberty.

LOVELACE.