Eadem Paulo Fusius Poem by John Ashmore

The Argvment.
The storme now spent of discontent
(If Lovers words be true)
The bonds againe (still to remaine)
Of loue we will renew.

When I had scal'd, and did possesse
The happy Fortress of thy love,
And all assaylants comfortless
Tir'd with long siege did thence remove;
In Fortunes lap, who then, but I,
By Venus luld-asleep did lie?

Lyd.
While thou this lovely fort kept well,
And thy affections did not range,
Nor 'gainst thee oft made vowes rebell,
Nor Lydia did for Chloë change,
No Princesse was more blest in earth,
I then did draw most happy breath.

Hor.
Now Thracian Chloë hath the raines
Of my affection in her hands,
Skilfull in Musicks sweetest straines,
And well to play she understands:
For whom I would breathe out my last,
If she might live when my life's past.

Lyd.
Well featur'd Calaïs is my ioy:
He hath possession of my heart:
He sets me free from all annoy:
He love for loue doth still impart:
For him I twice would death endure,
If him long life it might procure.

Hor.
What are our iarres if Venus smile,
And (cunning) with her grace-full traine,
Our mindes distracted reconcile,
And binde us in a stedfast chaine?
If from my house faire Chlo' I reave,
That it my Lydia may receiue?

Lyd.
Though he in beauty farre excell
The stars, the fairest youth alive:
And thou unconstant be, and fell,
As waves against the windes that strive;
With thee I would in life remaine,
With thee I death would intertaine.