Fletcher, Phineas · published 1631 · first performed or written 1615 [Mar 13] (Annals) pastoral · at University T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint typicality 0.63 · 484 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
ay, I am silver white so is thy check Yet who for whiteness will condemn it? If wrinkled, of thy forehead is not fleck Yet who for frowning dare contemn it. Boys full of folly youth of rage Both but a journey to old age I am not yet fair Nymph to old to love And yet women love old lovers Nor yet to waving light, as false to prove youth a foul inside fairly covers. Yet when my light is in the wain Thy suns renew my spring again. Pretty very pretty, why yet I see My brain is still as fresh as in my youth. And quick invention springs as currently As in the greenest head: this little distich I made this morn, to send unto my love. See, here's a leg how full, how little waning, My limbs are still accompanied With their kind fellow heat, no shaking palsy Nor cramp has ta'en possession, my swift blood streams Runs quick and speedy, through their burning channels Pish I am young, he is not ancient That hath a silver badge of hoary hairs But he that in sweet love is dead and cold So old men oft are young, and young men old I'll take my farewell of this pretty verse It is a pretty verse, I'll read it again If I am silver white and. O ho my spectacles. Ah naughty boy alas my spectacles Ha ha he your eyes Fredocaldo take up your eyes hah, ha, he. Ah naughty boy alas my spectacles Whether is he gone? O if I find him Find me without eyes? hah, ha, he. O my verses my verses, A very pretty verse: how fresh a brain that made it If I am silver white and. nay if you'll try your limbs come on. Farewell frost: how? Perindus? oh how fitly After warm winter comes a chill could summer This youth in all things is that old man's contrary This a cold May, that a hot Ianuarie All my art cannot blow up one sparkle If I should stay he'd blast me, adieu sol in pisces Farewell good Caldofredo, I must after Fredocaldo Blessed is that fisher swain that sank i'th' flood he's food for them whom he would make his food. But I most wretched, who so many years Live safe in waters to be drowned in fears. In fire and sorrow like Titius is my life A covered table furnished still for grief. Hell love your pains, for all poor souls can prove Is felt and spoke but thus careless I love. Phoebus write thou this glorious victory And grave it on thy shining axle-tree That all may see a fisher hath done more Than any age hereafter or before. Alcippus what news? methinks I plain descry joy mixed with wonder in thy doubtful eye. Perindus most happy have I found thee here
seed 43: T2 · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
I, I am siluer white so is thy checke Yet who for whitenes will codemne it? If wrinkled, of thy forehead is not flecke Yet who for frowning dare contemne it. Boys full of folly youth of rage Both but a iourney to old age I am not yet fayre Nymph to old to loue And yet woemen loue old louers Nor yet to wauing light, as false to prou youth a foule inide fairely coers. Yet when my light is in the waine Thy sunnes renew my spring againe. Pretty very pretty, why yet I see My braine is still as fresh as in my youth. And quicke inuention springs as currantly As in the greenest head: this little distike I made this morne, to end vnto my lou. See, here's a legge how full, how little waining, My limbs are sil accompanied With their kind fellow heate, no shaking palsie Nor cramp has tane possession, my swift bloud streames Runs quicke and speedie, through their burning channells Pi'sh I am young, he is not antient That hath a iluer bdge of hoarie haires But he that in sweete loue is dead and cold So old men oft are young, and young men old I'le take my farewell of this prettie verse It is a prettie verse, I'le reade it againe If I am siluer white and. O ho my spectacles. Ah naughtie boy alas my spectacles Ha ha he your eyes Fredocaldo take vp your eyes hah, ha, he. Ah naughtie boy alas my spectacles Whether is he gone? O if I finde him Find mee without eyes? hah, ha, he. O my veses my verses, A verie prettie verse: how fresh a braine that made it If I am siluer white and. nay if you'l trie your limbs come on. Farewell fost: how? Perind ? oh how fitly After warme winter comes a chill could summer This youth in all things is that old mans contrarie This a cold May, that a hot Ianuarie All my art cannot blowe vp one sparkle If I should stay hee'd blast mee, adue sol in Pises Farewell good Caldofredo, I must after Fredocaldo Bles't is that fisher swane that sancke i'th flood Hee's food for them whom he would make his food. But I most wretched, who so many yeares Liue safe in waters to be drownd in feares. In fire and sorrow like Titius is my life A couerd table furnisht still for griefe. Hell loue your paines, for all poore soules can poue Is felt and spoke but thus carelesse I loue. Phaebus write thou this glorious victory And graue it on thy shining axel-tree That all may see a fisher hath done more Then any age hereafter or before. Alcippus what newes? me thinks I plaine descry Ioy mixt with wonder in thy doubtfull eye. Perindus most happy haue I found thee here