Beads, prayers.
Left to dream, ceased dreaming.
Green-gown, tumble on the grass.
179. ON JULIA'S BREATH.
Breathe, Julia, breathe, and I'll protest,
Nay more, I'll deeply swear,
That all the spices of the east
Are circumfused there.
Circumfused, spread around.
180. UPON A CHILD. AN EPITAPH.
But born, and like a short delight,
I glided by my parents' sight.
That done, the harder fates denied
My longer stay, and so I died.
If, pitying my sad parents' tears,
You'll spill a tear or two with theirs,
And with some flowers my grave bestrew,
Love and they'll thank you for't. Adieu.
181. A DIALOGUE BETWIXT HORACE AND LYDIA,
TRANSLATED ANNO 1627, AND SET BY
MR. RO. RAMSEY.
Hor. While, Lydia, I was loved of thee,
Nor any was preferred 'fore me
To hug thy whitest neck, than I
The Persian king lived not more happily.
Lyd. While thou no other didst affect,
Nor Chloe was of more respect
Than Lydia, far-famed Lydia,
I flourished more than Roman Ilia.
Hor. Now Thracian Chloe governs me,
Skilful i' th' harp and melody;
For whose affection, Lydia, I
(So fate spares her) am well content to die.