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- # SHAKE-SPEAKERS.
Draws after you, you part for me of all those.
Yet seems it, Winter still, and you away,
As with your Shaddow I with these did play.
99
The forward violet thus did I chide,
Sweet these whence didst thou steale thy sweet that
If not from my lous breath, the purple pride,
Which on thy soft checke for complexion dwells?
In my lous veines thou hast too grossly died,
The Lillie I condemned for thy hand,
And buds of marierom had stolne thy haire;
The Roses searefully on thornes did stand,
Our blushing shame, an other white dispairs:
A third nor red, nor white, had stolne of both,
And to his robbery had annext thy breath,
But for his theft in pride of all his growth.
A vengfull canker eate him vp to death.
More flowers I noted, yet I none could see,
But sweet, or culler it had stolne from thee.
100
Where art thou Muse that thou forgetst so long,
To speake of that which giues thee all thy might?
Spendst thou thy furie on some worthlesse songe,
Darkning thy powre to lend base subiects light,
Returne forgetfull Muse, and straight redeeme,
In gentle numbers time so idely spent,
Sing to the eare that doth thy laies esteeme;
And giues thy pen both skill and argument.
Rise resty Muse, my lous sweet face surray,
If time haue any wrinkle grauen there,
If any, be a Satire to decay,
And make times spoiles dispised euery where,
Giue my loue fame faster then time wafta lise,
So thou preuenst his fieth, and crooked knife.
101
H truant Muse what shalbe thy amends,
For
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