It was the purest light of heav'n for whose fair love they fell.


Numbers from Elizabethan Miscellanies & Song-books
by Unnamed or Uncertain Authors. 1602

63. Madrigal
Davison's Poetical Rhapsody

MY Love in her attire doth show her wit,
It doth so well become her;
For every season she hath dressings fit,
For Winter, Spring, and Summer.
No beauty she doth miss
When all her robes are on:
But Beauty's self she is
When all her robes are gone.


Numbers from Elizabethan Miscellanies & Song-books
by Unnamed or Uncertain Authors. 1602

64. How can the Heart forget her?
Davison's Poetical Rhapsody
? F. or W. Davison

AT her fair hands how have I grace entreated
With prayers oft repeated!
Yet still my love is thwarted:
Heart, let her go, for she'll not be converted--