Tasso, Torquato / Reynolds, Henry · published 1628 · first performed or written 1628 (Annals) pastoral unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 467 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
Had found and knew him, and beheld his cheeks And lips so bloodless, and discoloured, As the wan Violet's hue their paleness past; And saw him languish, as if then he had Been drawing his last breath; she gave her sorrows A liberal passage through her earnest cries; And beating her fair breast, falls down upon him, Laying her face on his, and on his lips Her lips. And did not bashful shame restrain Her more, who is so strict and so severe? Bashfulness oft bars weak loves of their long, But is too weak a curb for a strong love. But then, as if her eyes had been two fountains, She drowned his cold face with her pouring tears; Whose water was of so great force, and virtue, That he revived; and opening his dim eyes, He sighs forth a hollow ' Ay me, from the bottom Of his sad breast; she caught the heavy sound Of that same bitter breath; and mingled it With her sweet breath; and so restored, and healed him. Then; who can say? who can imagine what Both of them thought, and at that instant felt? Each now assured of others life? and he Assured of her love, and to find himself Entangled in so loved, and loving arms? He that loves firmly may imagine it, Yet hardly too; but no tongue sure can tell it. Is then Aminta safe belike, and well, And so clear from all danger of his death? He's safe, and well; save that he has a little Battered his flesh, and somewhat scratched his face; But 'twill be nothing; and he ways it not. Thrice happy he, t'have given so great and high A sign, and earnest of his Constancy; And now enjoys the fruit of his firm love; To which his sad induring, and pains past, Prove pleasing and sweet sauces at the last. But peace be wi'yeyee '; I must go seek about Till I have found the good Montano out. I Know not whether the much sour This (now blest) Lover (serving, burning, Now despairing, and still mourning) Hath felt; may in one happy ' hour Be thoroughly repaid again With pleasure equal to his pain. But if the good more pleasing be, And come more welcome, after we Have felt the ill; I do not crave (O Love) this happiness to have. Let others be so blest by thee, And grant the Nymph I love, may be Won with a little less ado; Less prayers, less service when I woo; And let the sauce to our loves, be Not so much pain, and misery: But sweet disdains, repulses sweet; Fall off a little, and strait meet. That after a short frown or twain, New peace, or truce may knit our hearts again.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Had found and knew him, and beheld his cheekes And lips ſo bloudleſſe, and diſcoloured, As the wanne Violet's hue their paleneſſ paſt; And ſaw him languiſh, as if then he had Bin drawing his laſt breath; ſhee gaue her ſorrowes A liberall paſsage through her earneſt cryes; And beating her faire breſt, falls downe vpon him, Laying her face on his, and on his lipps Her lipps. And did not baſhfull ſhame reſtraine Her more, who is ſo ſtrict and ſo ſeuere? Baſhfulnes oft barrs weak loues of their longings, But is too weake a curbe for a ſtrong loue. But then, as if her eyes had bin two fountaines, She drown'd his colde face with her powring teares; Whoſe water was of ſo great force, and vertue, That he reuiu'd; and op'ning his dimme eyes, He ſighes foorth a hollow' Ay mee, from the bottome Of his ſad breſt; ſhee caught the heauy ſound Of that ſame bitter breath; and mingled it With her ſweet breath; and ſo reſtor'd, and heal'd him. Then; who can ſay? who can imagine what Both of them thought, and at that inſtant felt? Each now aſsur'd of others life? and he Aſsur'd of her loue, and to finde himſelfe Intangled in ſo lou'd, and louing armes? He that loues firmly may imagine it, Yet hardly too; but no tongue ſure can tell it. Is then Aminta ſafe belike, and well, And ſo cleare from all danger of his death? He's ſafe, and well; ſaue that he has a little Battred his fleſh, and ſomwhat ſcratcht his face; But 'twill be nothing; and he wayes it not. Thriſe happy he, t'haue giu'n ſo great and high A ſigne, and earneſt of his Conſtancie; And now inioyes the fruit of his firme loue; To which his ſad indurings, and paines paſt, Prooue pleaſing and ſweet ſawces at the laſt. But peace be wi'yee'; I muſt goe ſeeke about Till I haue found the good Montano out. I Know not whether the much ſowre This (now bleſt) Louer (ſeruing, burning, Now dispairing, and ſtill mourning) Hath felt; may in one happy' houre Be thoroughly repay'd againe With pleaſure equall to his paine. But if the good more pleaſing be, And come more welcome, after wee Haue felt the ill; I doe not craue (O Loue) this happineſs to haue. Let others be ſo bleſt by thee, And graunt the Nimph I loue, may bee Wonne with a little leſſe adooe; Leſs pray'rs, leſs ſeruice when I wooe; And let the ſawce to our loues, be Not ſo much paine, and miſery: But ſweet diſdaines, repulſes ſweet; Fall off a little, and ſtraite meete. That after a ſhort frowne or twayne, New peace, or truce may knit our hearts againe.