Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Where do you lead me? How blessed are we, that Fortune hath So much befriended us in this happy? Convenient opportunity? 'Tis an unaccustomed favour, And we aught in duty to acknowledge A thankfulness for it. So sits the pride of Nature to outvie Each glorious Beauty of the checkered field, And Flora's richest Wardrobe. I perceive Y'ave practised long in th'flattering Rules of love. What will reward you? A kiss is more than I can merit. Will you sing. And you'll give me another for my pains. Put it to the trial, You shall not lose your labour. Sat while I do gather flowers, And depopulate the Bowers. Here's a kiss will come to thee; Give me one, I'll give thee three. Thus in harmless sport we may, Pass all idle hours away. Hark, hark how fine The Birds do chime, And pretty Philomela Her moan doth tell. Than pity, pity love, and all is well. Here's the Violet, Pink, and Rose, The sweetest breathe for the nose. Yet thy breath to me doth yield Moore fragrant scents than all the field. Love cares not for flowers or toys, Play games for your apish Boys. Nor superstition For his condition Is for to know if you love or no? Than answer, love I or no. But yet me thinks that face should be The Model of true constancy: Therefore no reason have I, To suspect thy loyalty, Here's another kiss for thee. Give me one, I'll give thee three. Thus in harmless sport we may, Pass all idle hours away. Hark, hark how fine The Birds do chime, And pretty Philomela, Her moan doth tell▪ Than pity, pity Love, and all is well. Y'ave sung me most a sleep, my eyes are dull and heavy, Faith I must make thy lap my pillow. Repose thy gentle head on't. Alas! I'm heavy too, and must obey my destiny. Sleep on, sleep on, For we have so decreed, That thou must bleed: Sleep on, sleep on, And mayst thou never rise, For blood the shepherd cries. Sleep on, sleep on. Rise, rise Lysander to prevent What the Destinies decreed. Thou art constant, permanent, And must not bleed▪ Thy constant seed Shall be the shepherd's joy, Not annoy Shall attend Such a friend As the Lasses need. Rise, rise, awake! And sleep of shake; The Heavens are pleased thy part to take, For thy Love's sake. Lysander, where art? Lord how my fancy's troubled! How fares my Gloriana? I have had Strange thoughts that would have dispossessed Me of my rest, had I not took it here On your sacred lap. That is the man: upon him instantly While I attach his Mistress. Ah me Lysander, what means these sad spectacles▪ We must have life and death. Both life and death: how can that be? Thy life, and thy Lysander's death. I've herded that voice ever now Afford more milder language. Stop her mouth jest she does charm me Unto pity.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: T3 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Where doe you leade mee? How blest are wee, that Fortune hath So much befriended us in this happy? Convenient opportunity? 'Tis an unaccustom'd favour, And we ought in duty to acknowledge A thankfulnesse for it. So sits the pride of Nature to out-vye Each glorious Beauty of the chequer'd field, And Flora's richest Wardrobe. I perceive Y'ave practis'd long in th'flattering Rules of love. What wil reward you? A kisse is more than I can merit. Will you sing. And you'l give me another for my paines. Put it to the tryall, You shall not loose your labour. Sit while I doe gather flowers, And depopulate the Bowers. Here's a kisse will come to thee; Give me one, I'le give thee three. Thus in harmlesse sport wee may, Passe all idle houres away. Hark, hark how fine The Birds doe chime, And pretty Philomel Her moane doth tell. Then pitty, pitty love, and all is well. Here's the Violet, Pink, and Rose, The sweetest breathings for the nose. Yet thy breath to me doth yeeld More fragrant sents than all the field. Love cares not for flowers or toyes, Play games for your apish Boyes. Nor superstition For his condition Is for to know — if you love or no? Then answer, love I or no. But yet me thinks that face should be The Modell of true constancie: Therefore no reason have I, To suspect thy loyalty, Here's another kisse for thee. Give me one, I'le give thee three. Thus in harmlesse sport wee may, Passe all idle houres away. Hark, hark how fine The Birds doe chime, And pretty Philomel, Her moane doth tell▪ Then pitty, pitty Love, and all is well. Y'ave sung me most a sleepe, my eyes are dull and heavy, Faith I must make thy lap my pillow. Repose thy gentle head on't. Alas! I'm heavy too, and must obey my destinie. Sleepe on, sleepe on, For wee have so decreed, That thou must bleed: Sleepe on, sleepe on, And maist thou never rise, For blood the shepheard cryes. Sleepe on, sleepe on. Rise, rise Lysander to prevent What the Destinies decreed. Thou art constant, permanent, And must not bleed▪ Thy constant seed Shall be the shepheards joy, No annoy Shall attend Such a friend As the Lasses need. Rise, rise, awake! And sleepe off shake; The Heavens are pleas'd thy part to take, For thy Love's sake. Lysander, where ar't? Lord how my fancie's troubled! How fares my Gloriana? I have had Strange thoughts that would have dispossest Me of my rest, had I not tooke it here On your sacred lap. That is the man: upon him instantly While I attach his Mistresse. Ah me Lysander, what meanes these sad spectacles▪ Wee must have life and death. Both life and death: how can that be? Thy life, and thy Lysanders death. I've heard that voyce e're now Afford more milder language. Stop her mouth lest shee does charme me Unto pitty.