Could my heart more tongues employ Than it harbours thoughts of grief, It is now so far from joy That it scarce could ask relief: Truest hearts by deeds unkind To despair are most inclined. Happy minds that can redeem Their engagements how they please, That no joys or hopes esteem Half so precious as their ease: Wisdom should prepare men so, As if they did all foreknow. Yet no art or caution can Grown affections easily change; Use is such a lord of man That he brooks worst what is strange: Better never to be blest Than to lose all at the best. From WILLIAM BYRD's _Psalms, Songs, and Sonnets_, 1611. Crowned with flowers I saw fair Amaryllis By Thyrsis sit, hard by a fount of crystal, And with her hand more white than snow or lilies, On sand she wrote _My faith shall be immortal_: And suddenly a storm of wind and weather Blew all her faith and sand away together. From THOMAS RAVENSCROFT's _Brief Discourse_, 1614. THE FAIRIES' DANCE. Dare you haunt our hallow'd green? None but fairies here are seen. Down and sleep, Wake and weep, Pinch him black, and pinch him blue, That seeks to steal a lover true! When you come to hear us sing, Or to tread our fairy ring, Pinch him black, and pinch him blue! O thus our nails shall handle you! From THOMAS CAMPION's _Fourth Book of Airs_ (circ. 1613). Dear, if I with guile would gild a true intent, Heaping flatt'ries that in heart were never meant, Easily could I then obtain What now in vain I force; Falsehood much doth gain, Truth yet holds the better course. Love forbid that through dissembling I should thrive, Or, in praising you, myself of truth deprive! Let not your high thoughts debase A simple truth in me; Great is Beauty's grace, Truth is yet as fair as she. Praise is but the wind of pride if it exceeds, Wealth prized in itself no outward value needs: Fair you are, and passing fair; You know it, and 'tis true; Yet let none despair But to find as fair as you. From JOHN DOWLAND's _First Book of Songs or Airs_, 1597. Dear, if you change, I'll never choose again; Sweet, if you shrink, I'll never think of love; Fair, if you fail, I'll judge all beauty vain; Wise, if too weak, more wits I'll never prove. Dear, sweet, fair, wise! change, shrink, nor be not weak; And, on my faith, my faith shall never break. Earth with her flowers shall sooner heaven adorn; Heaven her bright stars through earth's dim globe shall move; Fire heat shall lose, and frosts of flames be born; Air, made to shine, as black as hell shall prove: Earth, heaven, fire, air, the world transformed shall view, Ere I prove false to faith or strange to you.