Yet should it be a pleasant tale, to tell
The diuerse vsage and demeanure daint,
That each to other made, as oft befell.
For Amoret right fearefull was and faint,
Lest she with blame her honor should attaint,
That euerie word did tremble as she spake,
And euerie looke was coy, and wondrous quaint,
And euerie limbe that touched her did quake:
Yet could she not but curteous coūtenance to her make.

Amongst the rest there was a iolly knight,
Who being asked for his loue, auow’d
That fairest Amoret was his by right,
And offred that to iustifie alowd.

The warlike virgine seeing his so prowd
And boastfull chalenge, wexed inlie wroth,
But for the present did her anger shrowd;
And sayd, her loue to lose she was full loth,
But either he should neither of them haue, or both.

But that young Knight, which through her gentle deed
Was to that goodly fellowship restor’d,
Ten thousand thankes did yeeld her for her meed,
And doubly ouercommen, her ador’d:
So did they all their former strife accord;
And eke fayre Amoret now freed from feare,
More franke affection did to her afford,

And to her bed, which she was wont forbeare,
Now freely drew, and found right safe assurance theare.

For soone as she them saw to discord set,
Her list no longer in that place abide;
But taking with her louely Amoret,
Vpon her first aduenture forth did ride,
To seeke her lou’d, making blind loue her guide.

Vnluckie Mayd to seeke her enemie,
Vnluckie Mayd to seeke him farre and wide,
Whom, when he was vnto her selfe most nie,
She through his late disguizemēt could him not descrie.

They passing forth kept on their readie way,
With easie steps so soft as foot could stryde,
Both for great feeblesse, which did oft assay
Faire Amoret
, that scarcely she could ryde,
And eke through heauie armes, which sore annoyd
The Prince on foot, not wonted so to fare;
Whose steadie hand was faine his steede to guyde,
And all the way from trotting hard to spare,
So was his toyle the more, the more that was his care.

Thus when the Prince had perfectly compylde
These paires of friends in peace and setled rest,
Him selfe, whose minde did trauell as with chylde,
Of his old loue, conceau’d in secret brest,
Resolued to pursue his former guest;
And taking leaue of all, with him did beare
Faire Amoret
, whom Fortune by bequest
Had left in his protection whileare,
Exchanged out of one into an other feare.

Before that Castle was an open plaine,
And in the midst thereof a piller placed;
On which this shield, of many sought in vaine,
The shield of Loue, whose guerdon me hath graced,
Was hangd on high with golden ribbands laced;
And in the marble stone was written this,
With golden letters goodly well enchaced,
Blessed the man that well can vse his blis:
VVhose euer be the shield, faire Amoret be his.

Thus sate they all a round in seemely rate:
And in the midst of them a goodly mayd,
Euen in the lap of VVomanhood there sate,
The which was all in lilly white arayd,
With siluer streames amongst the linnen stray’d;
Like to the Morne, when first her shyning face
Hath to the gloomy world it selfe bewray’d,
That same was fayrest Amoret in place,
Shyning with beauties light, and heauenly vertues grace.

The Faerie Queene Spenser, Edmund 1596

Fancy and I, last evening, walk’d,
And Amoret, of thee we talk’d;

The West just then had stolen the sun,
And his last blushes were begun:
We sate, and mark’d how everything
Did mourn his absence: how the spring
That smil’d and curl’d about his beams,
Whilst he was here, now check’d her streams:
The wanton eddies of her face
Were taught less noise, and smoother grace;
And in a slow, sad channel went,
Whisp’ring the banks their discontent:
The careless ranks of flowers that spread
Their perfum’d bosoms to his head.

To Amoret Gone from Him Vaughan, Henry 1646

Thus to the North the loadstones move,
And thus to them th’ enamour’d steel aspires:
Thus Amoret
I do affect;
And thus by wingèd beams, and mutual fire,
Spirits and stars conspire:
And this is Love.

To Amoret, of the Difference ‘twixt Him and Other Lovers, and What True Love Is Vaughan, Henry 1646

Leave Amoret, melt not away so fast
Thy eyes’ fair treasure; Fortune’s wealthiest cast
Deserves not one such pearl; for these, well spent,
Can purchase stars, and buy a tenement
For us in heaven
; though here the pious streams
Avail us not; who from that clue of sunbeams
Could ever steal one thread? or with a kind
Persuasive accent charm the wild loud wind?

To Amoret Weeping Vaughan, Henry 1646

Nimble sigh, on thy warm wings,
Take this message and depart;
Tell Amoret, that smiles and sings,
At what thy airy voyage brings,
That thou cam’st lately from my heart.

Tell my lovely foe that I
Have no more such spies to send,
But one or two that I intend,
Some few minutes ere I die,
To her white bosom to commend.

Then whisper by that holy spring,
Where for her sake I would have died,
Whilst those water-nymphs did bring
Flowers to cure what she had tried;
And of my faith and love did sing.
That if my Amoret, if she
In after-times would have it read,
How her beauty murder’d me,
With all my heart I will agree,
If she’ll but love me, being dead.

The Sigh Vaughan, Henry 1646

Although she there once plac’d thou Sun shouldst see
Thy day both Nobler governed and thee,
Drive on Bootes thy 〈◊〉 heavy wayn,
Then grease thy VVhee • with Amber in the Main,
And Neptune, thou to thy false Thetis gallop,
Appollo’s set within thy Bed of Scallop:
VVhilst Amôret on the reconciled VVinds
Mounted, and drawn by six Caelestial Minds,
She armed was with Innocence, and fire
That did not burn, for it was Chast Desire;

VVhilst a new Light doth gild the standers by;

Lucasta and Posthume Poems Lovelace, Richard 1659

The brook ran babling by; and sighing weak,
The breeze among the bending willows play’d:
When Sacharissa to the cool retreat,
With Amoret, and Musidora stole.

Warm in their cheek the sultry season glow’d;
And, rob’d in loose array, they came to bathe
Their fervent limbs in the refreshing stream.
Tall, and majestic, Sacharissa rose,
Superior treading, as on Ida’s top
(So Grecian bards in wanton fable sung)
High-shone the sister and the wife of Jove.

Meek-ey’d, sedate, and gaining every look
A surer conquest of the sliding heart.
While, like the Cyprian goddess, Amoret,
Delicious dress’d in rosy-dimpled smiles,
And all one softness, melted on the sense.

The Four Seasons and Other Poems Thomson, James 1735

“Now then,” he said, taking her card to write down the dances, “I’ve got carte blanche, haven’t I?”
“Mr Whiston doesn’t dance,” she said.
“I am a lucky man!” he said, scribbling his initials. “I was born with an amourette in my mouth.”
He wrote on, quietly. She blushed and laughed, not knowing what it meant.

He was an excellent dancer. He seemed to draw her close in to him by some male warmth of attraction, so that she became all soft and pliant to him, flowing to his form, whilst he united her with him and they lapsed along in one movement. She was just carried in a kind of strong, warm flood, her feet moved of themselves, and only the music threw her away from him, threw her back to him, to his clasp, in his strong form moving against her, rhythmically, deliriously.

The Prussian Officer and Other Stories Lawrence, D. H. 1914