Now, while amid those dainty downs and dales With shepherd swains I sit, unknown to me, We sweetly sing and tell pastoral tales, But my discourse and song's theme is of thee. For otherways, alas, how can it be? Let Venus leave her blest abode above To tempt my love, yet thou, sweet soul, shalt see That I thy man and thou shalt die my love. No tract...Learn More

Go you, O winds that blow from north to south, Convey my secret sighs unto my sweet; Deliver them from mine unto her mouth, And make my commendations till we meet. But if perhaps her proud aspiring sprite Will not accept nor yet receive the same, The breast and bulwark of her bosom beat, Knock at her heart, and tell from whence you came; Importune...Learn More