Poems

A Meline

Mais à  qui mieux pourroy-je presenter
Ces petits chants, qu'à  toy, douce Meline,
Mon Eraton, qui la fureur divine
Souflas en moy, qui me les fit chanter ?

Tu m'i verras une foix enchanter
De ta rigueur le souci qui me mine
Une autre fois en ta douceur benine
Tu me verras gayement contenter.

Icy lisant, l'amour qui me tourmente,
Tu pourras dire : ah, par si long espace
Je ne devoys telle ardeur abuser :

Relisant là , tes faveurs, que je chante
Eternisant les honneurs de ta face,
Tu ne pourras, comme ingrat, m'accuser.



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