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LOVES ADVENTURE, by                    
First Line: Love once a wooing went, & tride
Last Line: His nuptiall feast princelike to solemnize.
Subject(s): Churches; Courtship; God; Cathedrals

LOVE once a wooing went, & tride
To winne Himselfe a Rurall Bride:
His robe of State He layd aside
And clad in homely country weeds, he took
For his bright Scepter a plaine shepherds Crook.

Nor was't some Masque yt He intended,
But in good earnest thus He rended
Through Heavn his passage, & descended,
Where in a Stable His first Bed He made:
What Shepherd ever playner Lodging had?

There meeting wth his Love, arrayd
In equall Habit (for ye Maid
Was Humane Nature) He assayd
To captive Her affections by all arts
That Love can trie upon beloved Hearts.

By Blandishments of Tongue & Eye,
By many a tear & many a sigh,
He strove Her Soule to mollifie.
No dowry He required, yet was content.
To jointure Her in Heavn, would shee consent.

But proud & coy Shee scorned his Love,
And with resolved denyall strove
Her peremptory Heart to prove
As hard as His was soft: No spouse sayes Shee,
But one thats great & gallant is for Mee.

(As if some rare piece She had been
Of Beautie, or of Fortune Queen,
And not a lump of Dust, as meane
As He is Great: Had Pride not made her blind,
In's Miracles She might his Godhead find).

This cruell Word's unworthy Dart
Strook deep in Love's most tender Heart
Yet was too weak to make him start
From his sweet enterprise: I have sayd He
As good an aime; & darts as sharp as Shee.

With that ten thousand times He shot;
But Shee all flint & steele would not
Yeild to one wound; which made Him plot
An amorous vengeance, & brave tryall make
Seing Life could not, by Death her Heart to break.

I'l dye, He cryes, I'l soundly dye
By mine owne mortall wounds I'le try
To make her bleed, & venture by
My languishment & death to make Her prove
The dainty languishments, & deaths of Love.

Good as this Great Word up he flyes
Unto his Throne of Miseries,
Where fastened by his wounds, he cryes
Was ever Griefe like Mine, who here must dye
For Love of Her, who doth my Love defye?

And now His conquered Spouse does yeild
Unto her Lord his bloody field,
Who both Himselfe & Her hath killed:
His most convincing Death it selfe did dart
Into her breast, & slew her hardned Heart.

And now by Love's Life shee doth live,
Which dying He to her did give,
And doth with loyall fervour strive
To quit that mighty Score, & to repay
Him to Him selfe, upon their Wedding Day.

For He reviv'd againe & now
Waits till ye Church be drest below,
That He againe his Face may show
Not now in Servile, but Majestik guise
His Nuptiall Feast Princelike to solemnize.

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