A Book of old English love songs . [109] Co €)ne gating j% t»ajs €H&. ELL me not Time hath played thethiefUpon her beauty! my beliefMight have been mockd, and I havebeenAn heretic, if I had not Mistress is still fair to me,And now I all those graces seeThat did adorn her virgin brow:Her eye hath the same flame ins nowTo kill or save, — the chemists fireEqually burns, so my desire;Not any rosebud less withinHer cheek; the same snow on her chin;Her voice that heavenly music bearsFirst charmed my soul, and in my ears[no] ®o ®ne saying 0(je toaa <*M& Did leave it trembling; her lips are


A Book of old English love songs . [109] Co €)ne gating j% t»ajs €H&. ELL me not Time hath played thethiefUpon her beauty! my beliefMight have been mockd, and I havebeenAn heretic, if I had not Mistress is still fair to me,And now I all those graces seeThat did adorn her virgin brow:Her eye hath the same flame ins nowTo kill or save, — the chemists fireEqually burns, so my desire;Not any rosebud less withinHer cheek; the same snow on her chin;Her voice that heavenly music bearsFirst charmed my soul, and in my ears[no] ®o ®ne saying 0(je toaa <*M& Did leave it trembling; her lips are The self-same lovely twins they were; — Often so many years I miss No flower in all my Paradise; Time, I despise thy rage and thee,— Thieves do not always thrive, I see. —James Shirley.


Size: 1062px × 2353px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No

Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookpublishernewyo, bookyear1897