The Protestation, a Sonnet.
NO more shall Meads be deckt with Flowers,
Nor sweetness dwelt in rosie bowers;
Poems, with a maske by Thomas Carew ... ; the songs were set in musick by Mr. Henry Lawes ...
About this Item
- Title
- Poems, with a maske by Thomas Carew ... ; the songs were set in musick by Mr. Henry Lawes ...
- Author
- Carew, Thomas, 1595?-1639?
- Publication
- London :: Printed for H.M., and are to be sold by J. Martin ...,
- 1651.
- Rights/Permissions
-
To the extent possible under law, the Text Creation Partnership has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above, according to the terms of the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication (http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/). This waiver does not extend to any page images or other supplementary files associated with this work, which may be protected by copyright or other license restrictions. Please go to http://www.textcreationpartnership.org/ for more information.
- Link to this Item
-
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A34171.0001.001
- Cite this Item
-
"Poems, with a maske by Thomas Carew ... ; the songs were set in musick by Mr. Henry Lawes ..." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A34171.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 20, 2024.
Pages
Page 155
Nor greenest buds on branches spring,
Nor warbling birds delight to sing,
Nor April violets paint the grove,
If I forsake my Celia's love.
The fish shall in the Ocean burn,
And fountains sweet shall bitter ••••rn,
The humble Oak no flood shall know
When floods shall highest hits ore-flow;
Black Laethe shall oblivion leave,
If e'r my Celia I deceive.
Love shall his bow and shaft lay by,
And Venus Doves want wings to fly,
The Sun refuse to shew his light,
And day shall then be turn'd tonight,
And in that night no star appear,
If once I leave my Celia dear.
Love shall no more inhabit earth,
Nor Lovers more shall love for worth,
Nor joy above in heaven dwell,
Nor pain torment poor souls in hell;
Grim Death no more shall horrid prove,
If e'r I leave bright Celia's Love.