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EBBA 21045

Magdalene College - Pepys
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The Happy State of true Lovers.
Being a most pleasant and Delightful New Play SONG.
When Earth was made in the first age of Men,
Love, that's now Art, mov'd all by nature then;
Simplicity in love was then their pride,
No cunning Artifice they had to hide
A generous passion, which did freely flow
But now 'tis Gold that governs all below:
More is the pitty, yet we here may find,
Vertue out-do it, and to Lovers kind.
To a New Play-house Tune; Or, All hail to the pleasures of Love.

ALL hail to the pleasures of Love,
to joys that Lovers do find;
And hail to the Powers above,
that still to our Laws have been kind:
Oh! Beauty's an Empire, where we
have more than ambition can lend us,
In all the delights we live free,
that Cupid or Venus can send us.

No Faction disturbs our sweet peace,
nor the blustring storms of the State,
But stor'd with such blessed encrease,
as each moment for us do create:
On Beds of sweet Roses we lye,
while each charm'd with 1000 delights,
When blushing, the Nymph she does cry,
Love, love now to pleasure invites.

WHen Nations are ruin'd by War,
and the sword does dreadfully rage
We dare bid defiance to fear,
for no fear can our passion asswage:
Love conquers the Tyrant when he
does breath nothing but slaughter & death
Through Armour swift beauty does flee,
& soon cools the stout warriors fierce breath

It makes him to yield what he won,
I, & throws down his Laurels so fair,
As if he had nwly begun,
while loves Empire of beauty does share
A Court Love does hold in each Bower,
where the Monarchs does cite to attend
Who lay aside Glory and Power,
and to charms of fair beauty do bend.

The State-Polititions likewise,
who the wheel of the Kingdom can turn,
Here often do feel a surprize,
when in feavors of Love they do burn:
There's none that is free from this pain,
'tis so pleasant each strive to envy,
And do with they may in it remain,
although it had power to destroy.

In the Groves, pleasant Meads, & springs
when the evening Dew it does fall,
And the Lark her last leave she sings,
to walk abroad Cupid does call:
Then from our sweet repose we stray,
for to view our Flocks & Herds so fair,

While blushing like to the pride of May,
my shepherdess looks beyond compare.

Oh innocent Love is a treasure,
& the greatest the powers they can give
But O for to think of the Pleasure,
and the joys that in love we receive:
Whilst panting on fair breasts we lye,
embracing a beauty so bright,
Who with a beam shot from her E[ye]
can chase away shades of Night[.]

Those Coral Lips so fair to press,
with softest touches, the which inclo[se]
Orient Pearl, O such happiness
from the fountain of love ever flows
That none but who try d them can tell,
it is the true spark of joys above,
Where joy'd love in bright Angels dwell
and with it happy for ever prove.

Then let each true love his treasure
for Gold is dross when with it compar'd
There's nought on earth with it can measure
no, not the Spices Arabia shar'd:
when blooming they their sweets send forth
nor all that the Dream in't contains,
there's nought but true love that is worth
in it all the good on Earth remains.


Printed for J. Clarke, W. Thackeray, and
T. Passinger.

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