Song.
WHen Celia my heart did surprise,
In an Ocean of grief my fair Goddess did rise,
And like Crystal dissolv'd the tears flow'd from her
Eyes.
From her Beautiful Cheeks all the Roses withdrew,
And she look'd like a Lilly o'reladen with dew.
New poems, songs, prologues, and epilogues never before printed / written by Thomas Duffett ; and set by the most eminent musicians about the town.
About this Item
- Title
- New poems, songs, prologues, and epilogues never before printed / written by Thomas Duffett ; and set by the most eminent musicians about the town.
- Author
- Duffett, Thomas.
- Publication
- London :: Printed for Nicholas Woolfe ...,
- 1676.
- 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.
- Subject terms
- English poetry -- Early modern, 1500-1700.
- Songs, English -- Texts.
- Cite this Item
-
"New poems, songs, prologues, and epilogues never before printed / written by Thomas Duffett ; and set by the most eminent musicians about the town." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A36760.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 15, 2024.
Pages
Page 104
How sweet did her sorrow appear!
How I trembl'd and sigh'd, and for ev'ry tear
Made a Vow to the gods and a pray'r to her!
O how soft are the wounds we receive from the fair!
But the joys and the pleasures there's none can de∣clare.
What panting and fainting I feel,
When imbracing her feet, before Celia I kneel,
O how dear are her smiles and how sweetly they kill!
Ev'ry minute I die with the thoughts of my bliss,
And she breaths a new life in each languishing kiss.
O Love let us still wear thy Chain,
Let no Passion but Love in our fancies e're reign,
Let us often be cur'd and ne'r freed from the pain.
All the pleasures of Wine to the sense are confin'd,
But 'tis Love is the noblest delight of the mind.