Page:Golden Treasury of English Songs and Lyrics.djvu/93

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Second
77
A careless shoe-string, in whose tie I see a wild civility,— Do more bewitch me, than when art Is too precise in every part. R. Herrick


xciii

2

Whenas in silks my Julia goes Then, then (methinks) how sweetly flows That liquefaction of her clothes.
Next, when I cast mine eyes and see That brave vibration each way free,O how that glittering taketh me! R. Herrick


xciv

3

My Love in her attire doth shew 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. Anon.


xcv

ON A GIRDLE

That which her slender waist confined Shall now my joyful temples bind: No monarch but would give his crown His arms might do what this has done.
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