Poems, with a maske by Thomas Carew ... ; the songs were set in musick by Mr. Henry Lawes ...

To A. L. Perswasions to love.

THinke not, 'cause men flatt'ring say Y'are fresh as Aprill, Sweet as May, Bright as is the Morning starr, That you are so; or though you are, Be not therefore proud, and doem All men unworthy your esteem: For being so, you lose the pleasure Of being fair, since that rich treasure Of rare beauty, and sweet feature, Was bestow'd on you by Nature To be enjoy'd, and 'twere a sinne There to be scarce, where shee hath been So prodigall of her best graces; Thus common beauties, and meane faces Shall have more pastime, and enjoy The sport you lose by being coy,

Did the thing for which I sue Onely concern my self, not you; Were men so fram'd as they alone Reap'd all the pleasure, women none, Then had you reason to be scant; But 'twere a madnesse not to grant That which affords (if you consent) To you the giver, more content, Than me the begger; Oh then be Kind to your self, if not to mee; Starve not your selfe, because you may Thereby make me pine away; Nor let brittle beauty make You your wiser thoughts forsake: For that lovely face wil fail; Beautie's sweet, but beautie's frail; Tis sooner past, tis sooner done Than Summers rain, or Winters Sun; Most fleeting when it is most deare; Tis gone while wee but say tis here. These curious locks so aptly twin'd, Whose every hair a soul doth bind, Will change their abroun hue, and grow White, and cold as winters snow. That eye which now is Cupid's nest Will prove his grave, and all the rest

Will follow; in the cheek; chin, nose, Nor Lilly shall be found, nor Rose; And what will then become of all Those, whom now you servants call? Like Swallowes when your summers done, They'l fly, and seek some warmer Sun. Then wisely chuse one to your friend, Whose love may (when your beauties end) Remain still firm: be provident And think before the summer's spent Of following winter; like the Ant In plenty hoord for time of scant. Cull out amongst the multitude Of Lovers, that seek to intrude Into your favour, one that may Love for an age, not for a day; One that will quench your youthfull fires, And feed in age your hot desires. For when the storms of time have mov'd Waves on that check which was belov'd, When a fair Ladies face is pin'd, And yellow spred where red once shin'd, When beauty, youth, and all sweets leave her, Love may return, but Lover never: And old folkes say there are no paines Like itch of love in aged veines.

Oh love me then, and now begin it, Let us not lose this present minute: For time and age will work that wrack Which time or age shall ne'r call back. The snake each year fresh skin resumes, And Eagles change their aged plumes; The faded Rose each spring receives A fresh red tincture on her leaves: But if your beauties once decay, You never know a second May. Oh, then be wise, and whilst your season Affords you dayes for sport, doe reason; Spend not in vain your lives short hour, But crop in time your beauties flower: Which will away, and doth together Both bud and fade, both blow and wither.