Sleep, angry beauty, sleep and fear not me!
My words have charmed her, for secure she sleeps,
Though guilty much of wrong done to my love;
And in her slumber, see! she close-eyed weeps:
Dreams often more than waking passions move.
Plead, Sleep, my cause, and make her soft like thee:
That she in peace may wake and pity me.
From John Wilbye’s Second Set of Madrigals, 1609.
So light is love, in matchless beauty shining,
From William Corkine’s Airs, 1610.
Some can flatter, some can feign,
But since pairs must equal prove,
Let my strength her youth oppose,
Love her beauty, faith her love;
On even terms so may we close.
Cork or lead in equal weight
Both one just proportion yield,
So may breadth be peis’d[14] with height,
Steepest mount with plainest field.
Virtues have not all one kind,
Yet all virtues merit be,
Divers virtues are combined;
Differing so, deserts agree.
Let then love and beauty meet,
Making one divine concent
Constant as the sounds and sweet,
That enchant the firmament.