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Omnia vincent amor, pp.106-108.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

AS I went forth to view the spring 

Which Flora had adorned 

In rament fair; now every thing 

The rage of winter scorned: 

I cast mine eye and did espy 

A youth, who made great clamor; 

And drawing nigh, I heard him cry, 

Ah! omnia vincit amor


Upon his breast he lay along, 

Hard by a murm’ring river, 

And mourfully his doleful song 

With sighs he did deliver, 

Ah! Jeany’s face and comely grace, 

Her locks that shin’d like lammer, 

With burning rays have cut my days; 

For omnia vincit amor


Her glancy een like comets sheen, 

The morning sun out-shining, 

Have caught my heart in Cupid’s net, 

And make me die with pining, 

Durst I complain, nature’s to blame, 

So curiously to frame her, 

Whose beauties rare make me with care 

Cry, omnia vincit amor. 


Ye chrystal streams that swiftly glide, 

Be partners of my mourning, 

Ye fragrant fields and meadows wide, 

Condemn her for her scorning: 

Let every tree a witness be, 

How justly I may blame her; 

Ye chanting birds note these my words, 

Ah! omnia vincit amor


Had she been kind as she was fair, 

She long had been admir’d, 

And been ador’d for vertues rare, 

Wh’ of life now makes me tir’d. 

Thus said, his breath begun to fail, 

He could not speak, but stammer; 

He sigh’d full sore, and said no more, 

But omnia vincit amor


When I observ’d him near to death, 

I run in haste to save him, 

But quickly he resign’d his breath, 

So deep the wound love gave him. 

Now for her sake this vow I’ll make, 

My tongue shall ay defame her, 

While on his herse I’ll write this verse, 

Ah! omnia vincit amor


Straight I consider’d in my mind 

Upon the matter rightly, 

And found, tho’ Cupid he be blind, 

He proves in pith most mighty. 

For warlike Mars nor thund’ring Jove

And Vulcan with his hammer, 

Did ever prove the slaves of love, 

For omnia vincit amor


Hence we may see the effects of love, 

Which Gods and men keep under, 

That nothing can his bonds remove, 

Or torments break asunder: 

Nor wise, nor fool, need go to school, 

To learn this from his grammar; 

His heart’s the book where he’s to look 

For omnia vincit amor

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