Lyrick — Ex Cornelio Gallo Trans (Lydia, thou lovely Maid, whose white)

Lydia, thou lovely Maid, whose white
The Milk and Lilly does outvie,
The pale and blushing Roses light,
Or polish'd Indian Ivory,

Dishevel, Sweet, thy yellow hair,
Whose Ray doth burnish'd Gold disprize,
Disclose thy neck so white and fair,
That doth from snowy shoulders rise.

Virgin, unvail those starry eyes
Whose Sable brows like arches spread,
Unvail those Cheeks, where the Rose lies
Streak'd with the Tyrian Purple's red.

Lend me those Lips with Coral lin'd,
And kisses mild of Doves impart,
Thou ravishest away my mind,
Those gentle kisses wound my heart.

Why suck'st thou from my panting Breast
The youthfull Vigour of my Bloud?
Hide those twin-apples, ripe, if press'd,
To spring into a milky Floud.

From thy expanded bosome breath
Perfumes Arabia doth not know;
Thy ev'ry part doth love bequeath,
From thee all excellencies flow.

Thy bosome's killing-white then shade,
Hide that temptation from mine eye;
See'st not I languish, cruel Maid!
Wilt thou then go, and let me die?