218
GONDIBERT,
83.
For soon she shap'd her Lord and her so kind,
So all of love; till fancie wrought no more
When she perceiv'd him sit with Rhodalind;
But froward-Painter-like the Copie tore.
For soon she shap'd her Lord and her so kind,
So all of love; till fancie wrought no more
When she perceiv'd him sit with Rhodalind;
But froward-Painter-like the Copie tore.
84.
And now they move; and she thus robb'd, believes
(Since with such haste they bear her wealth away)
That they at best are but judicious Thieves,
And know the noble value of their prey.
And now they move; and she thus robb'd, believes
(Since with such haste they bear her wealth away)
That they at best are but judicious Thieves,
And know the noble value of their prey.
85.
And then she thus complain'd, Why royal Maid!
Injurious Greatness! Did you hither come
Where Pow'r's strong Nets of Wire were never laid?
But childish Love took Cradle as at home.
And then she thus complain'd, Why royal Maid!
Injurious Greatness! Did you hither come
Where Pow'r's strong Nets of Wire were never laid?
But childish Love took Cradle as at home.
86.
Where can we safe our harmless blessings keep,
Since glorious Courts our solitude invade?
Bells which ring out, when th' unconcern'd would sleep;
False lights to scare poor Birds in Countrey shade!
Where can we safe our harmless blessings keep,
Since glorious Courts our solitude invade?
Bells which ring out, when th' unconcern'd would sleep;
False lights to scare poor Birds in Countrey shade!
87.
Or if our joys their own discov'rie make,
Envie (whose Tongue first kills whom she devours)
Calls it our Pride; Envie, The poys'nous snake,
Whose breath blasts Maids, as innocent as Flow'rs!
Or if our joys their own discov'rie make,
Envie (whose Tongue first kills whom she devours)
Calls it our Pride; Envie, The poys'nous snake,
Whose breath blasts Maids, as innocent as Flow'rs!
88.
Forgive me beautious Greatness, if I grow
Distemper'd with my fears, and rudely long
To be secure; or praise your beautie so
As to believe that it may do me wrong.
Forgive me beautious Greatness, if I grow
Distemper'd with my fears, and rudely long
To be secure; or praise your beautie so
As to believe that it may do me wrong.
89.
And you my plighted Lord, forgive me too,
If since your worth and my defects I find,
I fear what you in justice ought to do;
And praise your judgement when I doubt you kind.
And you my plighted Lord, forgive me too,
If since your worth and my defects I find,
I fear what you in justice ought to do;
And praise your judgement when I doubt you kind.
Now
