Poems, &c. By James Shirley.

Dialogue.

1. I Prethee tell me what prodigious fateLine 1 Hath discomplexion'd thee of late? 2. Love that doth change all minds and men,Line 2 Hath thus transformed me, and when Thou seest her heavenly face. 1. Describe her then.

••. Her Hairs are Cupids nets. which when she spreads, She catches hearts and maidenheads; Her Forehead the white Alpes doth show, Or rather 'tis a shrine of snow, To which with fear approaching Pilgrims bow.

Her Eye-browes are loves bowes, from which her eyes Do never shoot, but some man dies: Her cheeks like two fair gardens rise, With the choise flowers of Paradise. Her lips disclose where Musicks Temple is.

Her Tongue I call Loves Lightning, but the Throne Of Graces is her Neck alone, Or Poets may inspired say There the wanton Doves do play, When Venus means to make it Holyday.

1. No more for shame? how hath thy fancy straid;Line 1 What a Chimera hast thou made To dote upon? what would I give Old Michael Angelo to revive? Make Titian, Vandike, or bold Ruben live?

But suppose one of them, or all their Art Should paint this darling of thy heart A net, a rock, a shrine of snow, A Church, a garden, and a bow, Is't not a pretty face compounded so?

Or if a Pencil, and their hand should make A flame of Lightning, who will take This for a tongue? Or if men see A Throne, Doves billing two or three, Who will commend this for a neck but thee?

Collect thy scatter'd sence (poor man) be wise, Love, but first give thy reason eyes; Thy fancie bears all like a flood; Reduce them to their flesh and blood, And Women then are hardly understood.