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Francis Pilkington

F I R S T   B O O K E   O F
Songs or Ayres of 4.parts:

1 6 0 5


XIII. Clime O hart, clime to thy rest.

To his louing friend M. Holder, M. of Arts.

   Clime O hart, clime to thy rest, 
   Climing yet take heed of falling, 
   Climers oft euen at their best, 
   Catch loue, downe falth, hart appaling. 

   2   Mounting yet if she do call, 
   And desire to know thy arrant : 
   Feare not stay, and tell her all, 
   Falling shee will be thy warrant. 

   3   Rise, oh rise, but rising tell, 
   When her beautie brauely wins thee, 
   T'sore vp where that she doth dwell, 
   Downe againe thy basenesse brings thee. 

   4   If she aske what makes thee loue her, 
   Say her vertue, not her face : 
   For though beauty doth approue her, 
   Mildnesse giues her greater grace. 

   5   Rise then rise if she bid rise, 
   Rising say thou risest for her : 
   Fall if she do thee dispise, 
   Falling still do thou adore her. 

   6   If thy plaint do pittie gaine, 
   Loue and liue to her honor : 
   If thy seruice she disdaine, 
   Dying yet complaine not on her. 


Online text copyright ©, Harald Lillmeyer