And so she was; no time dyd she mispend, wherein shee gets not things in readines, That might to _Hymens_ rites full fitly tend, or once conduce to such theyr happines, All things prepar'd, these Louers now are chayned In marriage bands, in which they long remained. These, whilst they liu'd, did liue in all content, contending who should loue each other most, To w^c pure loue, proude Fame her eares down lent, and through the world, of it doth highly boast. O happy he to whom loue comes at last, That will restore what hate before did wast. { Then (deerest loue) _Gyneuryze_ at the last, } { And I shall soone forget what ere is past. } And now farewel, when I shal fare but ill, flourish & ioy, wh[=e] I shal droope and languish, All plentious good awaite vpon thy will, wh[=e] extreame want shal bring my soule deaths anguish. Forced by thee (thou mercy-wanting mayd) must I abandon this my natiue soyle, Hoping my sorrowes heate will be allayd by absence, tyme, necessity or toyle. So, nowe adiew; the winds call my depart. Thy beauties excellence, my rudest quill Shall neuer-more vnto the world impart, so that it know thy hate, I haue my will; And when thou hear'st that I for thee shall perrish, Be sorrowfull. And henceforth true loue cherrish. FINIS. _Poco senno basta a chi Fortuna suona._ MIRRHA _THE_ Mother of Adonis: _OR, Lustes Prodegies_. By William Barksted. _Horrace. Nansicetur enim pretium, nomenque Poeta._ _Whereunto are added certaine Eglogs._ _By_ L.M. LONDON _Printed by_ E.A. _for_ Iohn Bache, and are to be sold at his shop in the Popes-head Palace, nere the Royall Exchange. 1607. To his belooued; the Author. _Praise where so er't be found, if it be due, Shall no vaine cullour neede to set it foorth: Why should I idely then extoll the worth, Which heere (dere friend) I finde belong to you. And if I er'd, full well the learned knewe, How wide, amisse my mark I taken had, Since they distinguish can the good from bad. And through the varnish well discerne the hewe Be glad therefore, this makes for you, and knowe, When wiser Readers, heere shall fixe their sight, For vertues sake, they will doe vertue right. So shalt thou not (Friend) vnrewarded goe, Then boldly on, good fortune to thy Muse, Should all condemne, thou canst as well excuse_. I.W. _To his Louing friend and_ Kinsman: W.B.