Astrophels Loue is dead.
RIng out your Belles, let mourning shewes be spread,
For Loue is dead.
Englands Helicon. Or The Muses harmony.
About this Item
- Title
- Englands Helicon. Or The Muses harmony.
- Publication
- London :: Printed [by Thomas Snodham] for Richard More, and are to be sould at his shop in S. Dunstanes Church-yard,
- 1614.
- Rights/Permissions
-
This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. Searching, reading, printing, or downloading EEBO-TCP texts is reserved for the authorized users of these project partner institutions. Permission must be granted for subsequent distribution, in print or electronically, of this text, in whole or in part. Please contact project staff at eebotcp-info@umich.edu for further information or permissions.
- Subject terms
- Pastoral poetry, English.
- Link to this Item
-
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A16274.0001.001
- Cite this Item
-
"Englands Helicon. Or The Muses harmony." In the digital collection Early English Books Online 2. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A16274.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 15, 2024.
Pages
Page [unnumbered]
All loue is dead infected
With plague of deepe disdaine:
Worth, as nought worth reiected,
And faith faire scorne doth gaine.
From so vngratefull fancie,
From such a female frenzie,
From them that vse men thus:
Good Lord deliuer vs.
Weepe neighbours weepe, doe you not heare it said
That Loue is dead?
His death-bed Peacocks folly,
His winding sheet is shame:
His will false, seeming holy,
His sole exectour blame.
From so vngratefull fancie.
From such a female frenzie,
From them that vse men thus:
Good Lord deliuer vs.
Let Dirge be sung, and Trentals richly read,
For Loue is dead.
And wrong his Tombe ordaineth,
My Mistresse marble hart:
Which Epitaph containeth,
Her eyes were once his Dart.
From so vngratefull fancie,
From such a female frenzie,
From them that vse men thus:
Good Lord deliuer vs.
Alas, I lie, rage hath this errour bred,
Loue is not dead.
Page [unnumbered]
Loue is not dead, but sleepeth
In her vnmatched minde:
Where she his counsell keepeth,
Till due desert shee finde.
Therefore from so vile fancie,
To call such wit a frenzie,
Who loue can temper thus:
Good Lord deliuer vs.
FINIS.
Sir Phil. Sidney.