An amorous Colloqui twixt Dorus, and Pamela

IN a Garden rich of Flowres
Walld with Baies, and Hawthorn Towres,
In a Towre the rest forsaking,
Wo kept Philomela waking.

Here heard Dorus and his Saint
This Birds musicall Complaint:
While they harkned to her singing
Their hands were each other wringing.

When their Eares were cloid to heare
Notes that neuer cloie the Eare?
Sith Hands, Harts did so discouer,
Dorus thus did Woo his Louer.

Sweet you see, and feeling soe,
How our Hands, and Harts agree
And sith Hands, and Hart conspier,
Let vs likewise in Desier.

Time, and Place vs both do woo,
To do that we needs must do,
If we will be linkt for euer
With the Knot that none can seuer.

Time, once past, returneth not:
Place, once lost, is hardly got.
Then sith both attend our Pleasure,
Let vs waite vpon their leisure.

Think not Lust corrupts my loue,
Though effects of both I proue
Sith that Lust, aloue, seems acting
Where Loue, only, is Compacting.

This Coniunction I desire
Not to quench vnhallowed sire,
But sith I would onely owe thee,
I, in loue alone, would now thee.

Of himselfe Loue iealous is,
Lest he should in duty misse,
Sith it is his bounden duty
To do seruice still to Beauty.

Bound, nay treble bound I am,
By thy Beauty, Grace, and Fame,
That no Right should be neglected
Due to one so much affected!

Sith Loue can no better doo,
Then to make still One, of Two:
That Loue, Loue is best acquiting
That comes neerest to vniting.

My Soule from my Lips would flie,
And, of Thine to Thine would hie,
That their Powres they might be mixing
In desire of faster fixing.

Sith our Soules (through Loues desire)
Labour thus to be intite,
Othen let our Bodies being
Make one Elence, through agreeing.

So to be, is to be One:
Which is by Conunction:
One in Spirit, and Flesh, and either
Made by Couplig fast together.

This I long for, but not long
That this should thy Vertue wrong:
Sith its vertue in affection,
That desires to make Connexion.

When desire hath had his will
Thou shalt be what thou art still:
Myne owne life whose fame I tender,
More then what my life can render.

My Loue's Loue, whose Obiect is
Vertues beauty, Beauties blisse;
Nere made poore for Fleshes pleasure,
Sith her Meanes are without measure!

Loue it selfe it selfe doth hate
Till it be incorporate
With his deere beloued Obiect,
Raigning in It, to It subiect.

O then, Deere (more deere to me
Then my lifes felicity)
Yeeld, òyeeld, without gainesaying
Sith that Danger's in delaying,

This he said, and saying straue
To enioy what he would haue
Warrd with Fire, and Sword of Louers
While hir Forces he discouers.

Forces put in Beauties hand,
Which rare Vertues did command:
Wherewith She him so restrayned
As the fight grew more vnfained.

Loth she was to put him back,
But more lothd hir Houorr wrack.
Thus while Resolution houerd,
Resolution He discouerd

Spare, ò spare my deerest Deere
(Quoth she to him (Victor neere)
Let me die ere liue deposed
Of my Trust in Thee reposed.

Thee my Loue doth so obay
That it hates to say thee nay,
Did not Vertue, bid myne Honor
Charge my loue to waite vpon hir.

Tis no seruple loue doth make
That thou shouldst such Tribute take;
Sith thou art my loues true owner,
But I feare the foilc of Honor.

Sweet, deere Sweete, let be let be:
Wrong not Right thou hast in mee.
O! forbeare vncill action,
Which procureth ciuil faction.

If the best bloud of my Harte
Would but ase thy easiest smart,
I protest would effse it,
That thou mightst, at pleasure, vse it.

Can my Dorus feele annoy
And Pamela ease enioy?
No, the smarte of thy least inger
Galls my Soule lik Consciene Stinger

Arte thou Rackt? thy Rack constraines
The convulsion of my vaines:
Wherein flowes the Sanguine Humor
That fr thee should wash fowle Rumor.

Loue me (Sweet) but loue me so
That me, faultlesse, thou maist kno
So to know me, is to know mee
Worth the loue which thou dost ow me.

My Hart shrines thy louiug Hart,
Still in me thou bideing at:
Do not thn polute thy Temple
With the lth of owle Example.

Thou shalt haue me how thou wilt
When such Hauing Hath no guilt:
Bvt if now I should yeeld to thee,
I should feare I should vnd mee.

Sith I should seem most oscene
In thy Soules Eye pure, ad cleane:
If not, I should ban my Folly
To loue such a soule vnholy.

Do what ere thou wilt with me,
So thou make me meet for Thee:
Thou art good, none can mistake Thee
(Being Noble) good, then, make me.

Ile be Thine while good I am,
Neuer Thine with euill name:
Let me glory but in glory
Brighting our Affections Story.

Yet (deere Sweet) these Lips of mine
Shall still Labour more then thine
With sweet Words and sweeter Kisses
To misse no ioy but Amisses.

I will melt with feruor free,
And infuse my selfe in thee,
That thou shalt possesse me wholy,
So thou wilt poss esse me holy.

I, perhaps do wish that done
Which in Loue, we haue begun:
(Blamelesse) so to blesse thy Fortune
With what, now, thou dost importunc.

But, till then (as Reason would)
Hold thou all that I do hold,
Thou shalt haue all (said shee weeping)
But what is in Honors keeping.

O then, Sweet, perswaded be
Witnesse be my Teares with me
How lioath I am to displease thee,
If with honor, I could please Thee,

Hereupon in Dorus Eyes
Tas of ioy, and giefe did rise,
And words were islue seeking,
ands, hard wrong, exprst their speking.

Yt at last, when Passion had
, in being Woe, and glad,
Dorus his Tongue tried
To vnsold what it denied.

While (quoth he) Pamela deere
I thy charming Reasons heare
I am so inchanted by them
As I want will to deny them.

But let me, ô let me take
The deere offer thou didst make
Which was, harmlesse kindest kissing
Sith it is my greatest blissing.

Herewith he her Body clips
Sucking Sucket from her Lips,
Twixt whose sucking all his Speaches
Were as sweet, as full of breaches.

Though quoth he (and then he kist)
Sweet, I should (and then he mist
Of what he was then in speaking
Kisses still his Speaches breaking)

Though, I say (said he) yet then
Lips fore Tongue, and Wit did ren)
My Lips nere should ceasse to kisse thee
My Lips nereshold too much blisse thee.

Should I life, and breath consnme
In thy blisfull Breaths perfume
I could nuer too much loue Thee
Sith, as good as kind I proue thee.

For, as in a Glasse, I see
What I ought to be, in thee:
Sith thou dost my faults Discouer
Making me perfect Louer.

I will loue thee s I should
That is, so as Reason would:
Reason would such diuine Graces
Should be loud with chast Embraces.

Come, the Rector of my Soule,
Which Commands by thy Controule
Who hast giun hir Reason power
Oe sweet Sin, and Passion sower.

Come then (Sweet) let vs from hence
Walke in Loues Circumference:
Till we may (within the Center)
Do these Rights without aduenter.