Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2007 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/elizabethansongsOOgarrrich Elizatetban* ^onig^ OvcK Karmon^ is in immort&l sovl3"» « » /AtRChANTOF VENICE: BOSTON •^nOCCCG Copyright, 1891, By Edmund H. Garrett. Santbetsttg if regs : John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. ••• ,•» • t * • • I • • • * * • ihiij.Tjuejalute thee wbh our early -song, Jnnd mlccnw thee and wijh thee lotig\ ^ ^ IMlLTON. 267899 #i(3tiT\ tents- >^.» // ^"^§jh\ ^ ^*^ rather than forty shillings I had my book q/ ^ songs and sonnets here. ■ «=?_^^ Merry wives of Windsor. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. FRANCIS BEAUMONT (1586-1616). JOHN FLETCHER (1576-1625). p^^^ Wedding Song 83 Wake, Gently Wake 84 Song in the Wood 85 Bridal Song 86 Spring-time and Love 87 To my Mistress's Eyes 90 Serenade 91 To Angelina 92 To THE Blest Evanthe 93 BRETON, NICHOLAS (1555-1624). Phillida and Corydon 26 BROWNE, WILLIAM (1590-1645). The Siren's Song 133 Song 135 vii €li^httf^an S>ms$. CAMPION, THOMAS (i54o?-i623?). ^^^^ Love's Request 96 To Lesbia 98 Cherry Ripe . . . . ; 99 CAREW, THOMAS (1589-1639). Song 120 A Prayer to the Wind 121 Disdain Returned 123 The Primrose 124 Ungrateful Beauty 125 Celia Singing 126 Song 127 In Praise of his Mistress 129 Red and White Roses 130 The Protestation 131 COWLEY, ABRAHAM (1618-1667). The Thief ... 176 Love in her Sunny Eyes 178 DANIEL, SAMUEL (1562-1619). Love 49 From "Hymen's Triumph" 51 ElDOLA 52 Eyes, Hide my Love 53 DEKKER, THOMAS (i57o?-i64i ?). Beauty, Arise! 94 The Invitation 95 DRAYTON, MICHAEL (1563-1631). To his Coy Love 54 Love Banished Heaven 56 Defiance to Love 57 viii Cotttent^s?* DRUMMOND, WILLIAM (1585-1649). p^^.^ To Chloris no Madrigal in Song 112 I>yER, SIR EDWARD (1550-1607). To Phillis, the Fair Shepherdess .... 9 GASCOIGNE, GEORGE (1537-1577). Lullaby of a Lover 5 A Strange Passion of a Lover 7 GREENE, ROBERT (i56o?-i592). Menaphon's Song 4a The Shepherd's Wife's Song 42 Cupid's Ingratitude 45 Infida's Song 46 GREVILLE, FULKE (LORD BROOKE), (1554 ?-i638). Myra 20 To HER Eyes 22 HABINGTON, WILLIAM (1605-1645). To Roses in the Bosom of Castara .... 160 To Cupid, upon a Dimple in Castara's Cheek 162 The Reward of Innocent Love 163 HARYNGTON, JOHN (1534-1582). A Heart of Stone 3 HERRICK, ROBERT (1591-1674). The Rock of Rubies 137 Upon Sappho Sweetly Playing and Sweetly Singing 138 To Meadows 139 Delight in Disorder 141 ix (Clijaliet&att S>ms^. HERRICK, ROBERT {continued). pace The Night Piece 142 To THE Virgins 144 Art above Nature 145 Cherry Ripe 146 To THE Rose 147 On Chloris Walking in the Snow .... 148 How Roses came Red 14^ HEYWOOD, THOMAS ( ?-i649). Greetings to my Love 58 Love's Ecstasy 60 To Phyllis 61 JONSON, BEN (X574-1637). Song 100 Perfect Beauty loi The Triumph of Charis 102 To Celia 104 The Sweet Neglect 105 The Kiss 106 The Banquet of Sense 107 To A Glove 108 Venetian Song 109 LODGE, THOMAS (1556-1625). Rosalind's Madrigal 28 The Deceitful Mistress 31 Rosalind's Description 33 Spring and Melancholy 36 Love's Wantonness 38 Do ME Right, and do me Reason 39 LOVELACE, RICHARD (1618-1658). To Althea from Prison 171 Going to the Wars 173 The Rose •174 X Content^* LYLY, JOHN (1554-1600). Daphne 11 Syrinx 12 Song to Apollo 13 Love's College 14 Spring's Welcome 15 Cupid and Campaspe 16 Arrows for Love 17 Cupid Arraigned 18 MARLOWE, CHRISTOPHER (1564-1593). The Passionate Shepherd to his Love . . 63 SHAKESPEARE, WILLIAM (1564-1616). To Sylvia 65 Song 67 To Imogen 68 Inconstancy 69 Fancy , . 70 The Rhyme of White and Red 71 Spring 72 Biron's Canzonet 73 The Lover's Tears 75 Perjury Excused 76 Oh, Mistress Mine 77 It was a Lover and his Lass 78 Song 79 A Bridal Song 80 A Wedlock Hymn 82 SHIRLEY, JAMES (1594-1666). The Looking-Glass 150 A Lullaby ^151 To one Saying she was Old 152 On her Dancing 153 ad €{t;alietl^an Mns^. SIDNEY, SIR PHILIP (1554-1586). ^^^^ Absence 23 SUCKLING, SIR JOHN (1609-1641). Orsames' Song 165 Constancy 167 True Love 168 Song 169 WALLER, EDMUND (1603-1686). On a Girdle 154 To Chloris 15s To Flavia 156 Stay, Phcebus 157 Song 158 WITHER, GEORGE (i 588-1667). Shall I, Wasting in Despaire 115 A Song to her Beauty 118 xii An Ind ex •O rirjtLir\e5 They "Were old-fashioned poetry , but choicely good. IZAAC Walton. A sweet disorder in the dress Robert Herrick . Ah, I remember well (and how can I) . . . Samuel Daniel . Ah, what is love ? it is a pretty thing . . . Robert Greene And her lips (that show no dulness) . . . George Wither . Amid my bale I bathe in bliss George Gascoigne Are they shadows that we see Samuel Daniel . Ask me no more where Jove bestows . . . Thomas Careiv . Ask me why I send you here Thoinas Carew . Beauty, alas ! where wast thou born . . . Thomas Lodge . Beauty, arise, show forth thy glorious shining Thomas Dekker . Beauty clear and fair yohn Fletcher . . Cease, warring thoughts, and let his brain . James Shirley . Cherry-Ripe, ripe, ripe ! I cry Robert Herrick . Come away ! bring on the bride Beaumont and Fletcher Come live with me and be my love . , . . Christopher Marlowe Come, my Celia, let us prove Ben Jonson . . . xiu page 141 51 42 ii8 7 52 127 124 39 94 92 151 146 86 63 109 €U?a6etl)an ^ong^* Cupid abroad was 'lated in the night Cupid and my Campaspe played . . Dearest, do not you delay me. . , Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine Drink to me only with thine eyes . Eyes, hide my love and do not show Robert Greene. , John Lyly . . . Jo/in Fletcher eye . Shakespeare . Ben Jonson Savtuel Daniel PAGE • 45 16 . 91 . 76 104 . 53 Fain would I wake you, sweet, but fear Beaujnont and Fletcher 84 Gather ye rosebuds while ye may .... Robert Herrick , Go, thou gentle, whispering wind .... Thomas Carew Go, happy rose, and interwove Robert Herrick Go, lovely rose Edmund WcUler . Hark, hark ! the lark at heaven's gate sings Shakespeare . . He that loves a rosy cheek Thomas Carew . Hence with passion, sighs, and tears . . . Thomas Heywood Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee .... Robert Herrick . Hold back thy hours, dark Night, till we have done Beaumont and Fletcher 83 I pray thee. Love, love me no more . . . MicJtael Drayton . . I prithee send me back my heart .... Sir John Suckling . . I saw faire Chloris walke alone Robert Herrick . . . I stood and saw my mistress dance .... James Shirley . . . I with whose colors Myra drest her head Fulke Greville {Lord Brooke) If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love Shakespeare . If she be made of white and red Shakespeare . In the merry month of May Nicholas Breton It was a beauty that I saw Ben Jonson . . It was a lover and his lass Shakespeare Know, Celia, since thou art so proud . . . Thomas Carew Let .those complain that feel Love's cruelty . John Fletcher , Like to the clear in highest sphere .... Thomas Lodge Love in her sunny eyes does basking play . Abraham Cowley Love in my bosom like a bee Thomas Lodge Love is a sickness full of woes Samuel Daniel Love, banish'd heaven, in earth was held in scorn Michael Drayton H7 158' 68 54 169 148 153 20 73 71 26 lOI 78 XIV ^nhtx to f ir^t %mt$. PAGE Love guides the roses of thy lips .... Thomas Lod^e . . 38 Live with me still, and all the measures . . Thomas Dekker . . . 95 My Daphne's hair is twisted gold .... JohnLyly . . . . II My Phillis hath the morning Sun .... Sir Edward Dyer . 9 My shag-hair Cyclops, come, let's ply . . . John Lyly .... 17 My sweetest Lesbia, let us live and love . . Thomas Campion . . 98 Nimble boy, in thy warm flight WUliamHabington. 162 No, no, fair heretic 1 it needs must be . . . Sir John Suckling . 168 No more shall meads be decked with flowers Thomas Carew . . 131 Now I find thy looks were feigned .... Thomas Lodge . . 31 Now the lusty spring is seen John FUicher . . . 87 O Cupid ! monarch over kings yohnLyfy .... 14 O dear life, when shall it be ? Sir Philip Sidney . 23 fair, sweet face ! O eyes celestial bright . John Fletcher . . . . 90 mistress mine, where are you roaming . . Shakespeare. • . . 77 Oh, do not wanton with those eyes .... Ben JonsoH .... . 100 Oh that joy so soon should waste .... Ben Jonson .... ic6 Oh, yes! oh, yes ! if any maid JohnLyly .... 18 On a day (alack the day!) Shakespeare . . . 67 Out upon it 1 I have loved Sir John Suckling . 167 Pack clouds away, and welcome day . . . Thomas Heywood . S8 Pan's Syrinx was a girl indeed JohnLyly .... 12 Phoebus, arise William Drummond 112 Read in these roses the sad story .... Thomas Carew . . 130 Roses at first were white Robert H err ick . . 149 Roses, their sharp spines being gone . . . Shakespeare . . . 80 See, Chloris, how the clouds IVilliam Drummond , no See the chariot at hand here of Love . . . Ben Jonson .... 102 Shall I come, sweet Love, to thee .... Thomas Campion . 96 Shall I, wasting in despaire George Wither . . "5 Shoot, false Love 1 I care not Michael Drayton . . 57 Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more .... Shakespeare . . . 69 Sing lullaby, as women do ..*... . George Gascoigne . 5 Sing to Apollo, god of day . JohnLyly .... 13 Some asked me where the rubies grew . . Robert Herrick . . 137 Some say Love Robert Greene . . . 40 So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not . . Shakespeare . . . 75 Stay, Phoebus 1 stay Edmund Waller . . 157 ons0. Steer, hither steer your wingM pines . • . Still to be neat, still to be drest Sweet Adon, dar'st not glance thine eye . . Sweet Rose 1 whence is this hue .... Sweet, serene, sky-like flower Take, oh take those lips away Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind .... Tell me not Time hath played the thief . . Tell me where is Fancy bred That which her slender waist confined . . The earth, late choked with showers . . . Then in a free and lofty strain There is a garden in her face This way, this way come, and hear .... Thou more than most sweet glove .... Thou robb'st my days of business and delights 'Tis not your beauty can engage We saw and wooed each other's eyes . . . Wedding is great Juno's crown Welcome, welcome do I sing What bird so sings, yet so does wail . . . When I behold a forest spread When daisies pied, and violets blue . . . When love with unconfin&d wings .... When this crystal shall present When thou dost play and sweetly sing . . . Whence comes my love ? O heart, disclose . Whilst I listen to thy voice Who is Sylvia? What is she? Why so pale and wan, fond lover .... Would you know what's soft ? I dare . . . Ye blushing virgins happy are IVtlliant Habing^on . i6o Ye have been fresh and green Robert Herrick ... 139 Ye little birds that sit and sing Thomas Heyivood . . 61 You little stars that live in skies . . . Fulke Greville (Lord Brooke) 22 You that think love can convey Thomas Carew . • . 126 You that will a wonder know Tliomas Carew • . . 129 PAGE WUliam Browne . . 133 Ben Jonson 105 Robert Greene .... 46 William Drummond . III Richard Lovelace . . 174 Shakespeare .... 79 Richard Lovelace . . 173 James Shirley . . . 152 Shakespeare .... 70 Edmund Waller . . . 154 Thomas Lodge . . . 36 Ben Jonson .... 107 Thomas Campion . . 99 Beaumont and Fletcher 8S Ben Jonson 108 Abraham Cowley . . 176 Edmund Waller . . . 156 William Haiington . . 163 Shakespeare .... 82 William Browne . . 135 JohnLyly 15 Robert Herrick . . . MS Shakespeare .... 72 Richard Lovelace . . 171 James Shirley . . . ISO Robert Herrick . . . 138 John Haryngton . . . 3 Edmund Waller . . . ns Shakespeare .... 65 Sir John Suckling . . 165 Thomas Carew . . . 120 1 1 m or Dosi thou love pictures ? )^-l-^ TAMING OF THE SHREW. TAe illustrations, reproduced by photogravure, are from water' color drawings. Six of them, decorative and emblematic figures, are printed in sepia. They represejtt six characters, — Grace, Love, Harmony, Revel, Sport, and Laughter, — from a masqtie by Ben Jonson, written for a Christmas revel at the Court of James I. in 1617. The fifty headings and tail-pieces are from pen-and-ink drawings. TO FAC& PAGE Salutation iv ®race 2 "Pan's Syrinx was a girl indeed" .... 12 "i that did wear the ring her mother left" 20 1.0be 28 "Her eyes are sapphires set in snow". . . 34 " N 'OSEREZ VOUS, MON BEL, AMI " 46 " I PRAY THEE, LOVE, LOVE ME NO MORE " . . . 54 xvii %t$t of 'f^Humeitxon$. TO FACE PACE Jj^armong 58 "Come live with me and be my love" ... 64 "When maidens bleach their summer smocks" 72 "Fain would I wake you, sweet" 84 i^efael 90 "My sweetest Lesbia, let us live and love" 98 "That was thy mistress, best of gloves" . 108 ^port 120 " so may you when the music 's done, awake and see the rising sun " 1 26 "When thou dost play and sweetly sing" . 138 Haugfjter 150 "'T is not your beauty can engage my wary heart" 156 " I could not love thee, dear, so much, loved I not honour more" .172 Here follows prose. Twelfth Night. HY was the Elizabethan Age, and M^'P^'" — why were the ages that succeeded Elizabeth, down to the Restoration, so rich in song ; and why have later periods been so poor? In this volume of selected verse the word ^^ Elizabethan''^ is used in a wide sense: we come down as far as Waller, who died in 1686, and Herrick, who died in 1674. The songs of the writers from. Shakespeare to Waller sing themselves, as we may say they have their own natural music, and like Philomel in Homer pour forth their <£li?a6et]^n Mngg. turns and trills upon the night ; but since that melodious centuryy the songs of our poets do not sing themselves^ as a rule. They are musi- cal, indeed ; but somehow they are not easily wedded to musicy and the songs which we hear sung are seldom poetry. There are^ of courscy exceptions. Among these the songs of Burns can hardly be reckoned perhaps as helpful in answering our question, because Burns deliber- ately and assiduously adapted his words to Scottish airs then already i^t existence. The good old Scottish tunes went with old words often coarse, perhaps yet more often foolish a7id almost senseless ; Burns supplied new and beau- tiftd language and passion, but the singing quality was present already in the ancient mtisic. Scotfs songs, again, were often made to music, as in the case of *' Bonny Dundee''' Others which he wrote ^ like ^' Proud Maisie,'' are as admirable as any which are ha^tded down from tlie age of song; but who sings them? The Scottish poets, like Lady Nairne, gave us immortal songs ; but the music was either 3fntrotiuctton* old, or the singer was his own, or her own, composer. Our lack of songs is not due to lack of poets. . Lord Tennyson, Shelley, and Swinburne have written verse as musical as any that the Eng- lish language can boast of; and as much may be said for Edgar Poe, But any ear can discern that the new harmonies are different from the Elizabethan harmonies , — are more formal, per- haps, certainly less like birds' notes ; that the cadences are more expected, less happily surpris- ing. The songs of these poets are not favorites with musicians ; Shelley in particular is rarely sung. Meanwhile such versifiers as Thomas Haynes Bayly have been highly popular with singers, and every one admits that most of our popular songs, with the exception of Dibden's and a few others, are, considered as poetry, worthless. The author of ** Oh, no, we never mention her,'^ and " She wore a wreath of roses,'' was himself a musician; and so was Moore, many of whose songs naturally escape the general condemnation. Why things are thus, ms$. good poetry ; the instructed people of to-day sing mtisic-hall trashy if they sing anything. By Test or Kennet no angler shall hear fair Maudlin chant that smooth song which was made by Kit Marlowe, now at least fifty years ago! Utopia is behind us. The astonishing thing is that in the age of poetry, from 1570 to 1670, all the poets, with hardly an exception, were natural singers. That Shakespeare had this gift is no marvel, wheit 07ice the miracle of his universality is graftted. But Marlowe^ and Beaumont and Fletcher, and the ponderously learned Ben Jonson, and the sombre Webster were all song-makers, — all had that lost inimitable art, that i{nconscious charm. The gift descended even to authors now un- known or unnoted, — to all who were " sealed of the tribe of Ben',' like " fny son William, Cart- wrighf with his — *' Hark, my Flora / Love doth call us To that strife that must befall us.''"' It may be said that the tempests of our age have silenced song, as linnets are quiet before xxiv 3^ntrotiuctiott* the storm. But the civil wars did not quench the music of Suckling and Herricky of Cartwright and Carew. Prison and battle only inspire the muse of Lovelace y as in his — " If to be absent were to be Away from thee,'^ and this purest chant of spiritual affection^ — ** Above the highest sphere wee meet Unseene, unknowne, and greet as angels greet.^^ Still his mind is full of love and beauty ^ as in " To Amaranthay that she would dishevell her haire,'* These songs we learn from Lovelaces '* Lucasta'' (1649) ^^^^ ''set'' by Mr. Henry Lawes and Mr. John Laniere and Mr. Hudson and Dr. John Wilson ; and it was Mr. Thomas Charles who '' seV the gallant impertinence of — " Why should you swear I am forsworn Since thine I vow'd to be ? Lady, it is already morn. And V was last night I swore to thee That fond impossibility?'' The music and the words, in all that age, were twins from the birth. I happen to have here €Ii5^etl^an ^rngfi. "Poems, Songs, and Sonnets, together with a Masque, by Thomas Carew, Esq. The Fourth Edition. London, 1671." Some former owner has written in an old haitd on the fly-leaf, " The Songs set in Musick in H. Lawes's Ay res and Dialogues for One, Two, and Three Voyces'' While music and ve?'se thus lived inseparable, Carew, in an age long after the Elizabetlian, could write — '•''Ask me no more where Jove bestows. When June is past, the fading Rose^^ and — " He that loves a rosie cheek Or a coral lip admires^ Herrick says little of music in his " Hesperides ,'' save to complain that when — '* The bad season makes the Poet sad^' he is — " Dull to myself, and almost dead to these My many fresh and fragrant mistresses, Lost to all music nowJ"* But Herrick, too, retains that Elizabethan lilt, as in the " Mad Maid's Song,'' — ^Fnttotiuttiott* " Good-morroiv to the day so fair^ Good-morrow, sir, to you; Good-morrow to m.ine own torn hair, Bedabbled with the dew.^^ Herrick gratefully addresses " Mr. Henry Lawes, the Excellent Composer of his Lyrics^' and while praising him praises also ^^ rare La7iiere,'' ^^ rare Gotire,'' and '^curious Wilson^ The songs of that century were never written, as lyrics now have long been written, except for the purpose of being sung. They were meant for voices in m^asques or in plays, inter- ludes of music in dance or in action; or they were such nuptial songs and epithalamies as the manners of frank and joyous people required. Thus our lyric poetry of that period answered, in its way, to the lyric poetry of Greece in the period of Sappho and Alcceus. Unfortunately for our singei's, the bulk of the Greek song of that date is lost ; but they fell back on what ancient inspirations they had to hand, — a7td in the floral verse of Herrick, especially, there are frequent imitations of the Greek Anthology. ms$. Then like the lark that passed the night In heavy sleep with cares oppressed. Yet when she spies the pleasant light She sends sweet notes from out her breast. So sing I now because I think How joys approach, when sorrows shrink. And as fair Philomene again Can watch and sing when others sleep, And taketh pleasure in her pain To wray the woe that makes her weep : So sing I now for to bewray The loathsome life I lead alway. The which to thee, dear wench, I write, Thou know'st my mirth but not my moan : I pray God grant thee deep delight. To live in joys when I am gone. I cannot live ; it will not be : I die to think to part from thee. SIR EDWARD DYER. 1550-1607. TO PHILLIS THE FAIR SHEPHERDESS. 1\/IY Phillis hath the morning Sun At first to look upon her : And Phillis hath morn-waking birds Her rising still to honour. My Phillis hath prime feathered flowers, That smile when she treads on them : And Phillis hath a gallant flock That leaps since she doth own them. But Phillis hath too hard a heart, Alas, that she should have it ! It yields no mercy to desert. Nor grace to those that crave it. , > €^nma$ %tit^st. Strike I my lute, he tunes the string; He music plays, if so I sing; He lends me every lovely thing; Yet cruel he, my heart doth sting, — Whist, wanton, still ye! Else I with roses every day Will whip you hence ; And bind you, when you long to play, For your offence. I '11 shut mine eyes to keep you in, I '11 make you fast it for your sin, I '11 count your power not worth a pin, Alas ! what hereby shall I win, If he gainsay me? What if I beat the wanton boy With many a rod? He will repay me with annoy, Because a god. 29 €li$abtt^an M>ms$. Then sit thou safely on my knee, And let thy bower my bosom be; Lurk in mine eyes, I like of thee; O Cupid, so thou pity me, Spare not, but play thee. €t)oma^ Xotise« THE DECEITFUL MISTRESS. IVTOW I find thy looks were feigned, Quickly lost, and quickly gained; Soft thy skin like wool of weathers. Heart unstable, light as feathers. Tongue untrusty, subtle-sighted, Wanton will, with change delighted. Siren pleasant, foe to reason, Cupid plague thee for this treason ! Of thine eyes I made my mirror, From thy beauty came mine error; All thy words I counted witty, All thy smiles I deemed pity; Thy false tears, that me aggrieved, First of all my heart deceived. Siren pleasant, foe to reason, Cupid plague thee for this treason ! Feigned acceptance, when I asked; Lovely words, with cunning masked ; Holy vows, but heart unholy ; Wretched man ! my tnist was folly ! 31 <6tt5a6et&an M>ons$. Lily-white, and pretty winking; Solemn vows, but sorry thinking. Siren pleasant, foe to reason, Cupid plague thee for this treason ! Now I see, Oh, seemly cruel, Oh, thus warm them at my fuel, Wit shall guide me in this durance, Since in love is no assurance ; Change thy pasture, take thy pleasure, Beauty is a fading treasure. Siren pleasant, foe to reason, Cupid plague thee for thy treason ! Prime youth lasts not, age will follow. And make white those tresses yellow; Wrinkled face, for looks delightful. Shall acquaint thee, dame despiteful ! And when time shall date thy glory. Then, too late, thou wilt be sorry. Siren pleasant, foe to reason, Cupid plague thee for this treason ! 32 €f)omaj0? Sotige. ROS/IUNiyS DESCRIPTION. T IKE to the clear in highest sphere, Where all imperial glory shines, Of self-same color is her hair, Whether unfolded or in twines : Heigho, fair Rosalind ! Her eyes are sapphires set in snow, Refining heaven by every wink; The gods do fear when as they glow. And I do tremble when I think: Heigho, would she were mine ! Her cheeks are like the blushing cloud That beautifies Aurora's face, Or like the silver, crimson shroud That Phoebe's smiling looks doth grace Heigho, fair Rosalind ! 33 ^li^ttfyan M^ms^. Her lips are like two budded roses, Whom ranks of lilies neighbor nigh, Within which bounds she balm incloses Apt to entice a deity: Heigho, would she were mine ! Her neck like to a stately tower, Where Love himself imprisoned lies, To watch for glances every hour, From her divine and sacred eyes : Heigho, fair Rosalind ! Her paps are centres of delight, Her breasts are orbs of heavenly frame. Where Nature moulds the dew of light, To feed Perfection with the same : Heigho, would she were mine ! With orient pearl, with ruby red. With marble white, with sapphire blue, Her body every way is fed. Yet soft in touch and sweet in view : Heigho, fair Rosalind ! 34 €t)Dtnaie^ S^oDge. Nature herself her shape admires, Th^ gods are wounded in her sight, And Love forsakes his heavenly fires And at her eyes his brand doth light : Heigho, would she were mine ! Then muse not, nymphs, though I bemoan The absence of fair Rosalind, Since for her fair there is fairer none; Nor for her virtues so divine; Heigho, fair Rosalind ! Heigho, my heart, would God that she were mine ! 35 ClijaBetfjan ^ong^. SPRING AND MELANCHOLY. T^HE earth, late choked with showers, Is now arrayed in green; Her bosom springs with flowers. The air dissolves her teen; The heavens laugh at her glory : Yet bide I sad and sorry. The woods are decked with leaves, And trees are clothed gay; And Flora crowned with sheaves With oaken boughs doth play, Where I am clad in black In token of my wrack. The birds upon tne trees Do sing with pleasant voices. And chant in their degrees Their loves and lucky choices; When I, whilst they are singing, With sighs mine arms am wringing. 36 €l)oma^ itotige* The thrushes seek the shade. And I my fatal grave; Their flight to heaven is made, My walk on earth I have; They free, I thrall; they jolly, I sad and pensive wholly. onsfi. Ah then, ah then, If country loves such sweet desires do gain. What lady would not love a shepherd swain? Thus, with his wife, he spends the year as blithe As doth the king at every tide or sithe. And blither, too; For kings have wars and broils to take in hand. Where shepherds laugh and love upon the land. Ah then, ah then. Since country loves such sweet desires do gain, What lady would not love a shepherd swain. 44 iSobert <&tttnt. CUPID'S INGRATITUDE. i^^UPID abroad was 'lated in the night, ^^ His wings were wet with ranging in the rain ; Harbor he sought ; to me he took his flight To dry his plumes. I heard the boy complain; I oped the door, and granted his desire; I rose myself, and made the wag a fire. Looking more narrow, by the fire's flame, I spied his quiver hanging by his back; Doubting the boy might my misfortune frame, I would have gone, for fear of further wrack : But what I dread did me, poor wretch, betide, For forth he drew an arrow from his side. He pierced the quick, and I began to start; A pleasing wound, but that it was too high : His shaft procured a sharp, yet sugared smart. Away he flew; for why, his wings were dry; But left the arrow sticking in my breast, That sore I grieved I welcomed such a guest. 45 €It5a{iet{|an ^ong^. INFIDA'S SONG. QWEET Adon, dar'st not glance thine eye N 'oserez vous, mon bel ami? Upon thy Venus that must die? Je vous en prie, pity me; N 'oserez vous, mon bel, mon bel, N 'oserez vous, mon bel ami? See how sad thy Venus lies, N 'oserez vous, mon bel ami? Love in heart, and tears in eyes, Je vous en prie, pity me; N 'oserez vous, mon bel, mon bel, N 'oserez vous, mon bel ami ? Thy face is fair as Paphos' brooks, N 'oserez vous, mon bel ami? Wherein Fancy baits her hooks; Je vous en prie, pity me ; N 'oserez vous, mon bel, mon bel, N 'oserez vous, mon bel ami? » > > > : iSobert ^Breene* Thy cheeks Uke cherries that do grow, N 'oserez vous, mon bel ami? Amongst the western mounts of snow, Je vous en prie, pity me; N 'oserez vous, mon bel, mon bel, N 'oserez vous, mon bel ami? Thy lips vermilion, full of love, N 'oserez vous, mon bel ami? Thy neck as silver- white as dove; Je vous en prie, pity me ; N 'oserez vous, mon bel, mon bel, N 'oserez vous, mon bel ami? Thine eyes like flames of holy fires, N 'oserez vous, mon bel ami? Bum all my thoughts with sweet desires; Je vous en prie, pity me; N 'oserez vous, mon bel, mon bel, N 'oserez vous, mon bel ami? All thy beauties sting my heart, N 'oserez vous, mon bel ami? 47 €{i;dtietl^an ^onq^. I must die through Cupid's dart; Je vous en prie, pity me; N 'oserez vous, mon bel, mon bel, N 'oserez vous, mon bel ami? Wilt thou let thy Venus die? N 'oserez vous, mon bel ami? Adon were unkind, say I, Je vous en prie, pity me; N 'oserez vous, mon bel, mon bel, N 'oserez vous, mon bel ami ? To let fair Venus die for woe, N 'oserez vous, mon bel ami? That doth love sweet Adon so; Je vous en prie, pity me; N 'oserez vous, mon bel, mon bel, N 'oserez vous, mon bel ami? SAMUEL DANIEL. LOVE. 1562-1619. T OVE is a sickness full of woes All remedies refusing; A plant that with most cutting grows, Most barren with best using. Why so? More we enjoy it, more it dies; If not enjoyed it sighing cries. Hey, ho! 49 €lt^tt^m ^ons$. Love is a torment of the mind, A tempest everlasting; And Jove hath made it of a kind Not well, nor full, nor fasting. Why so? More we enjoy it, more it dies; If not enjoyed it sighing cries, Hey, ho 1 ^amuri 2DameL FROM ''HYMEN'S TRIUMPHS A H, I remember well (and how can I But evermore remember well) when first Our flame began ; when scarce we knew what was The flame we felt; when as we sat and sighed, And looked upon each other, and conceived Not what we ail'd, — yet something we did ail; And yet were well, and yet we were not well; And what was our disease we could not tell. Then would we kiss, then sigh, then look : and thus In that first garden of our simpleness We spent our childhood. But when years began To reap the fruit of knowledge, ah, how then Would she with graver looks, with sweet stem brow Check my presumption and my forwardness; Yet still would give me flowers, still would me show What she would have me, yet not have me know. (eit5a6etl)att M>ons$. EIDOLA. A RE they shadows that we see ? And can shadows pleasure give? Pleasures only shadows be, Cast by bodies we conceive, And are made the things we deem In those figures which they seem. But these pleasures vanish fast Which by shadows are exprest; Pleasures are not if they last, In their passage is their best: Gloiy is most bright and gay In a flash, and so away. Feed apace then, greedy eyes. On the wonder you behold; Take it sudden as it flies. Though you take it not to hold : When your eyes have done their part, Thought must length it in the heart. \ 52 Samuel 2DdmeL EYES, HIDE MY LOVE. pYES, hide my love, and do not show To any but to her my notes, Who only doth that cipher know- Wherewith we pass our secret thoughts Belie your looks in others' sight, And wrong yourselves to do her right. 53 MICHAEL DRAYTON. TO HIS COY LOVE. i563-i63«. T PRAY thee, Love, love me no more, Call home the heart you gave me; I but in vain that saint adore, That can, but will not save me : These poor half kisses kill me quite ; Was ever man thus served? Amidst an ocean of delight For pleasure to be starved. Show me no more those snowy breasts, With azure rivers branched, Where whilst my eye with plenty feasts, Yet is my thirst not stanched. 54 ^1 ^^^^^^^^^3 HPi^^B ^^P^ \%^^^|^|BE^H H[ V ^ ^^ 1 ^^HlHii^'t^ ^^^ ^i -^ ^HHHittiiK TjiT" a^icljad aDtapton. O Tantalus, thy pains ne'er tell, By me thou art prevented ; 'Tis nothing to be plagued in hell, But thus in heaven tormented ! Clip me no more in those dear arras. Nor thy life's comfort call me ; Oh, these are but too powerful charms. And do but more enthrall me. But see how patient I am grown, In all this coyle about thee; Come, nice thing, let thy heart alone, - I cannot live without thee. 55 €lx$abttfyan M>txns$. LOyE BANISHED HEAVEN. T OVE, banished heaven, in earth was held in scorn, Wand'ring abroad in need and beggary; And wanting friends, though of a goddess born, Yet craved the alms of such as passed by. I, like a man devout and charitable, Clothed the naked, lodged this wand'ring guest, With sighs and tears still furnishing his table With what might make the miserable blest. But this ungrateful, for my good desert. Enticed my thoughts against me to conspire, Who gave consent to steal away my heart, And set my breast, his lodging, on a fire. Well, well, my friends, when beggars grow thus bold, No marvel then though charity grow cold. 56 ^it^atl ^taptotu DEFENCE TO LO^E. O HOOT, false Love ! I care not : Spend thy shafts, and spare not ! I fear not, I, thy might, And less I weigh thy spite; All naked, I unarm me : If thou canst, now shoot and harm me ! So lightly I esteem thee, As now a child I deem thee. Long thy bow did fear me. While thy pomp did blear me : But now I do perceive Thy art is to deceive; And every simple lover All thy falsehood can discover. Then weep, Love ! and be sorry, For thou hast lost thy glory. 57 THOMAS HEYWOOD. GREETINGS TO MY LOl^E. ?-i649. pACK clouds away, and welcome day; With night we banish sorrow; Sweet air, blow soft; mount, larks, aloft, To give my love good-morrow! Wings from the wind to please her mind. Notes from the lark, I'll borrow; Bird, prune thy wing; nightingale, sing, To give my love good-morrow ! To give my love good-morrow, Notes from them all I '11 borrow. » : : >' ' 5 J > 4*: ^ ( ^: Cftoma^ J^eptoooti. Wake from thy nest, robin red-breast, Sing, birds, in every furrow, And from each bill let music shrill Give my fair love good- morrow ! Blackbird and thrush, in every bush, Stare, linnet, and cock-sparrow, You pretty elves, amongst yourselves, Sing my fair love good- morrow I To give my love good-morrow, Sing, birds, in every furrow I 59 ^It;alietl)an ^ms$* LOVE'S ECSTASY, TTENCE with passion, sighs, and tears. Disasters, sorrows, cares, and fears ! See, my Love, my Love appears, That thought himself exiled. Whence might all these loud joys grow, Whence might mirth and banquets flow. But that he 's come, he 's come, I know? Fair Fortune, thou hast smiled. Give [un]to these windows eyes. Daze the stars and mock the skies. And let us two, us two, devise To lavish our best treasures : Crown our wishes with content, Meet our souls in sweet consent. And let this night, this night, be spent In all abundant pleasures. 60 €I)oma^ I^epiDooti. TO PHYLLIS. FROM "THE FAIR MAID OF THE EXCHANGE." WE little birds that sit and sing Amidst the shady valleys, And see how Phyllis sweetly walks Within her garden alleys; Go, pretty birds, about her bower; Sing, pretty birds, she may not lower: Ah me ! methinks I see her frown ; Ye pretty wantons, warble. Go, tell her through your chirping bills As you by me are bidden, To her is only known my love Which from the world is hidden. Go, pretty birds, and tell her so, See that your notes strain not too low, For still methinks I see her frown; Ye pretty wantons, warble. 6i €It;a&et{)dn J^ong^. Go, tune your voices* harmony, And sing I am her lover; Strain loud and sweet, that every note With sweet content may move her. And she that hath the sweetest voice. Tell her I will not change my choice : Yet still methinks I see her frown; Ye pretty wantons, warble. Oh fly ! make haste ! see, see, she falls Into a pretty slumber; Sing round about her rosy bed, That waking she may wonder; Say to her *t is her lover true, That sendeth love to you, to you; And when you hear her kind reply, Return with pleasant warblings. 62 CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. X564-1593. THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE. f^OME live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove That hills and valleys, dales and fields, Woods or steepy mountain yields. And we will sit upon the rocks. Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks, By shallow rivers, to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals. And I will make thee beds of roses And a thousand fragrant posies; A cap of flowers, and a kirtle Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle; 03 dUi^ahttt^an M>ons$, A gown made of the finest wool Which from our pretty lambs we pull; Fair Unfed slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold; A belt of straw and ivy buds, With coral clasps and amber studs : And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love. The shepherd swains shall dance and sing For thy delight each May morning; If these dehghts thy mind may move, Come live with me and be my love. ,J ■> t 1 WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. TO SYLVIA. FROM "TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA." \17H0 is Sylvia? What is she That all our swains commend her? Holy, fair, and wise is she; The heavens such grace did lend her That she might admired be. 1564-1616 Is she kind as she is fair? — For beauty lives with kindness; Love doth to her eyes repair To help him of his blindness ; And being helped, inhabits there. €ti5^etftan ^ms$. Then to Sylvia let us sing, That Sylvia is excelling; She excels each mortal thing Upon the dull earth dwelling; To her let us garlands bring. 66 n^illtam M>^Biit^ptatt. SONG. FROM -LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST." /^N a day (alack the day !) ^^^ Love, whose month is ever May, Spied a blossom passing fair Playing in the wanton air; Through the velvet leaves the wind, All unseen, 'gan passage find, That the lover, sick to death, Wished himself the heaven's breath. "Air," quoth he, "thy cheeks may blow; Air, would I might triumph so ! But, alack, my hand is sworn Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn : Vow, alack, for youth unmeet, Youth, so apt to pluck a sweet. Do not call it sin in me That I am forsworn for thee ; Thou, for whom Jove would swear Juno but an Ethiop were, And deny himself for Jove Turning mortal for thy love." €li5a6et|)att ^ms$. TO IMOGEN. FROM "CYMBELINE." TTARK, hark ! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chaHced flowers that Hes; And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes : With everything that pretty is. My lady sweet, arise; Arise, arise ! 68 l©tlliam M>t^akt$ptatt. INCONSTANCY. FROM "MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING." QIGH no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever; One foot in sea, and one on shore, To one thing constant never : Then sigh not so, But let them go, And be you blithe and bonny. Converting all your sounds of woe Into hey nonny, nonny ! Sing no more ditties, sing no mo' Of dumps so dull and heavy; The fraud of men was ever so Since summer first was leavy: Then sigh not so, But let them go. And be you blithe and bonny. Converting all your sounds of woe Into hey nonny, nonny ! 69 ^M^ttfyan ^ong^« T Fj4NCY. from "merchant of venice." ELL me where is Fancy bred, — In the heart or in the head? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. It is engendered in the eyes, With gazing fed; and Fancy dies In the cradle where it lies. Let us all ring Fancy's knell, I'll begin it, — Ding, dong, bell, Ding, dong, bell. 70 IDintdm ^f^$ikt$vtatt. THE RHYME OF WHITE AND RED. FROM "LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST." TF she be made of white and red, Her faults will ne'er be known, For blushing cheeks by faults are bred. And fears by pale white shown : Then if she fear, or be to blame. By this you shall not know. For still her cheeks possess the same, Which native she doth owe. ons$. w SPRING. FROM "LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST." HEN daisies pied, and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then on every tree Mocks married men ; for thus sings he, " Cuckoo, Cuckoo, cuckoo ! " — Oh word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear ! When shepherds pipe on oaten straws. And merry larks are ploughman's clocks; When turtles tread, and rooks and daws, And maidens bleach their summer smocks, The cuckoo then on every tree Mocks married men; for thus sings he, " Cuckoo, Cuckoo, cuckoo!" — Oh word of fear, Unpleasing to the married ear ! 72 I©aiiam J^fiafee^peate* BIRON'S CANZONET. FROM "LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST." TF love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to ^ love? Ah, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vowed ! Though to myself forsworn, to thee I '11 faithful prove ] Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like osiers bowed. Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine eyes, Where all those pleasures live that art would comprehend. If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suffice ; Well learned is that tongue that well can thee commend, 73 €Ii;a&ett)an ^ong^< All ignorant that soul that sees thee without wonder (Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire) ; Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy voice his dread- ful thunder. Which, not to anger bent, is music and sweet fire. Celestial as thou art, oh pardon love this wrong, That sings Heaven's praise with such an earthly tongue ! m 74 H^iHiam ^^aht^ptatt. THE LOFER'S TEARS. FROM "LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST." OO sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not To those fresh morning drops upon the rose,* As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote The night of dew that on my cheeks down flows ; Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright Through the transparent bosom of the deep. As doth thy face through tears of mine give light. Thou shinest in every tear that I do weep; No drop but as a coach doth carry thee, So ridest thou triumphing in my woe. Do but behold the tears that swell in me. And they thy glory through my grief will show. But do not love thyself; then thou wilt keep My tears for glasses, and still make me weep. O queen of queens, how far dost thou excel ! No thought can think, nor tongue of mortal tell. 75 €lx^eibtt^m ^me$. PERJURY EXCUSED. FROM "LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST." T^ID not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye, * 'Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument, Persuade my heart to this false perjury? Vows for thee broke deserve not punishment. A woman I forswore; but I will prove, Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee : My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love ; Thy grace being gained cures all disgrace in me. Vows are but breath, and breath a vapour is : Then thou, fair sun, which on my earth dost shine, Exhalest this vapour- vow ; in thee it is ! If broken then, it is no fault of mine ; If by me broke, what fool is not so wise To lose an oath to win a paradise? 76 3©flliam J^ljafeejefpeate. OH, MISTRESS MINE. FROM "TWELFTH NIGHT." (^ MISTRESS mine, where are you roaming? ^^^ Oh, stay and hear ; your true love 's coming, That can sing both high and low. Trip no farther, pretty sweeting; Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man's son doth know. What is love ? 't is not hereafter ; Present mirth hath present laughter; What 's to come is still unsure. In delay there Hes no plenty; Then come kiss me, sweet-and-twenty, Youth 's a stuff will not endure. 77 aeii5a6etfjan M^mqg. IT IVAS A LOVER AND HIS LASS. FROM "TWELFTH NIGHT." TT was a lover and his lass, With a hey and a ho and a hey nonino, That o'er the green cornfield did pass In the spring-time, the only pretty ring-time, When birds do sing, hey ding-a-ding, ding; Sweet lovers love the spring. Between the acres of the rye, With a hey and a ho and a hey nonino, These pretty country-folks would lie, In the spring-time, the only pretty ring-time, \Vhen birds do sing, hey ding-a-ding, ding; Sweet lovers love the spring. This carol they began that hour. With a hey and a ho and a hey nonino, How that a life was but a flower In the spring-time, the only pretty ring-tmie, 78 J^illiam ^ftafee^efpeare* When birds do sing, hey ding-a-ding, ding; Sweet lovers love the spring. And therefore take the present time With a hey and a ho and a hey nonino; For love is crowned with the prime In the spring-time, the only pretty ring-time, When birds do sing, hey ding-a-ding, ding; Sweet lovers love the spring. SONG. FROM "MEASURE FOR MEASURE.' 'X'AKE, oh take those lips away That so sweetly were forsworn ! And those eyes, like break of day. Lights that do mislead the morn ! But my kisses bring again. Seals of love, but sealed in vain. 79 (Qli^ahtt^n M>cns$* A BRIDAL SONG. FROM THE "TWO NOBLE KINSMEN.- OOSES, their sharp spines being gone, Not royal in their smells alone, But in their hue; Maiden pinks, of odour faint, Daisies smell- less, yet most quaint. And sweet thyme true; Primrose, firstborn child of Ver, Merry springtime's harbinger. With her bells dim; Oxlips in their cradles growing, Marigolds on deathbeds blowing, Larks'-heels trim. All dear Nature's children sweet Lie 'fore bride and bridegroom's feet. Blessing their sense ! 80 IBilliam ^^akt^ptatt. Not an angel of the air, Bird melodious, or bird fair. Be absent hence ! The crow, the slanderous cuckoo, nor The boding raven, nor chough hoar, Nor chattering pie, May on our bride-house perch or sing, Or with them any discord bring, But from it fly! 8i ^U^alietgan S>ms$. A WEDLOCK HYMN. FROM "TWELFTH NIGHT." A17EDDING is great Juno's crown; Oh blessed bond of board and bed ! 'T is Hymen peoples every town, — High wedlock then be honoured : Honour, high honour and renown, To Hymen, god of every town ! 82 BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. 157&-1625. IVEDDING SONG. FROM "THE MAID'S TRAGEDY." TTOLD back thy hours, dark Night, till we have '^ done ! The day will come too soon; Young maids will curse thee if thou steal'st away And leav'st their losses open to the day : Stay, stay, and hide The blushes of the bride ! Stay, gentle Night, and with thy darkness cover The kisses of her lover ! Stay, and confound her tears and her shrill cryings, Her weak denials, vows, and often-dyings : Stay, and hide all; But help not, though she call. 8.3 aeiijafietljan M>ms^. IVAKE, GENTLY WAKE. FROM "WIT AT SEVERAL WEKVQi^^ FJAIN would I wake you, sweet, but fear I should invite you to worse cheer; In your dreams you cannot fare Meaner than music, or compare ; None of your slumbers are compiled Under the pleasures makes a child; Your day-delights, so well compact That what you think turns all to act, I 'd wish my life no better play Your dream by night, your thought by day Wake, gently wake, Part softly from your dreams; The morning flies To your fair eyes. To take her special beams. 84 25eaumont anb flttt^tt. SONG IN THE IVOOD. FROM "THE LITTLE FRENCH LAWYER." T^HIS way, this way come, and hear. You that hold these pleasures dear; Fill your ears with our sweet sound, Whilst we melt the frozen ground. This way come ; make haste, O Fair ! Let your clear eyes gild the air; Come, and bless us with your sight: This way, this way, seek delight ! 85 » > ; ,> ^k»L,-^ 3^o|^n fkttf^tt. SERENADE. FROM "THE SPANISH CURATE." ■pv BAREST, do not you delay me, Since thou know'st I must be gone ; Wind and tide 't is thought doth stay me, But 't is wind that must be blown From that breath whose native smell Indian odours doth excel. Oh then speak, thou fairest fair, Kill not him that vows to serve thee 1 But perfume this neighbouring air. Else dull silence sure will sterve me; 'T is a word that 's quickly spoken. Which being restrained, a heart is broken. 91 €Ii5a6etI|an ^ms$. TO ANGELINA, FROM "THE ELDER BROTHER," OEAUTY clear and fair Where the air Rather like a perfume dwells, Where the violet and the rose Their blue veins and blush disclose, And come to honour nothing else. Where to live near, And planted there, Is to live, and still live new; Where to gain a favour is More than light, perpetual bliss: Make me live by serving you 1 Dear, again back recall To this hght A stranger to himself and all ; Both the wonder and the story Shall be yours, and eke the glory; I am your servant and your thrall. 92 3^01)11 flttt^tt. TO THE BLEST El^y4NTHE. FROM "A WIFE FOR A MONTH." T ET those complain that feel Love's cruelty, And in sad legends write their woes ; With roses gently ' has corrected me, My war is without rage or blows : My mistress's eyes shine fair on my desires, And hope springs up inflamed with her new fires. No more an exile will I dwell, With folded arms and sighs all day, Reckoning the torments of my hell. And flinging my sweet joys away : I am called home again to quiet peace; My mistress smiles, and all my sorrows cease. Yet what is living in her eye, Or being blessed with her sweet tongue. If these no other joys imply? A golden gyve, a pleasing wrong ! To be your own but one poor month, I 'd give My youth, my fortune, and then leave to live. 93 THOMAS DEKKER. 1570 ?-i64X ? BEAUTY, ARISE! FROM '♦THE PLEASANT COMEDY OF PATIENT GRISSELL." OEAUTY, arise, show forth thy glorious shining ! Thine eyes feed love, for them he standeth pining ; Honour and youth attend to do their duty To thee, their only sovereign beauty. Beauty, arise, whilst we, thy servants, sing lo to Hymen, wedlock's jocund king ! lo to Hymen, lo, lo, sing ! Of wedlock, love, and youth is Hymen king. Beauty, arise, thy glorious lights display I Whilst we sing lo, glad to see this day. lo, lo, to Hymen, lo, lo, sing ! Of wedlock, love, and youth is Hymen king. 94 €I)oma^ 2Defeftm THE INVITATION. FROM "THE SUNS DARLING." T IVE with me still, and all the measures Played to by the spheres I '11 teach thee ; Let 's but thus dally, all the pleasures The moon beholds her man shall reach thee. Dwell in mine arms, aloft we'll hover, And see fields of armies fighting : Oh, part not from me ! I '11 discover There all but [?] books of fancy's writing. Be but my darling, Age to free thee From her curse shall fall a-dying; Call me thy empress, Time to see thee Shall forget his art of flying. 95 THOMAS CAMPION. LOyE'S REQUEST. X540?-i623? QHALL I come, sweet Love, to thee When the evening beams are set? Shall I not excluded be. Will you find no feigned let? Let me not, for pity, more Tell the long hours at your door ! Who can tell what thief or foe, In the covert of the night, For his prey will work my woe. Or through wicked foul despite? So may I die unredrest Ere my long love be possest. €&oma^ Campion. But to let such dangers pass, Which a lover's thoughts disdain, 'T is enough in such a place To attend love's joys in vain : Do not mock me in thy bed, While these cold nights freeze me dead. 97 ^lijaBet^an ^ong^. TO LESBIA. j\/lY sweetest Lesbia, let us live and love; And though the sager sort our deeds reprove, Let us not weigh them. Heaven's great lamps do dive Into their west, and straight again revive; But soon as once set is our little light, Then must we sleep one ever-during night. If all would lead their lives in love like me, Then bloody swords and armour should not be ; No drum nor trumpet peaceful sleeps should move, Unless alarm came from the Camp of Love : But fools do live and waste their little light, And seek with pain their ever-during night. When timely death my life and fortunes ends, Let not my hearse be vext with mourning friends; But let all lovers rich in triumph come, And with sweet pastimes grace my happy tomb : And, Lesbia, close up thou my little light, And crown with love my ever-during night. 9S ' '. : > >' ; €{)Dmaiar Campion* CHERRY RIPE. T^HERE is a garden in her face Where roses and white lilies grow; A heavenly paradise is that place Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow: There cherries grow which none may buy, Till " Cherry ripe " themselves do cry. Those cherries fairly do enclose Of orient pearl a double row, Which when her lovely laughter shows, They look Uke rose-buds filled with snow; Yet them nor peer nor prince can buy, Till " Cherry ripe " themselves do cry. Her eyes like angels watch them still, Her brows like bended bows do stand. Threatening with piercing frowns to kill All that attempt with eye or hand Those sacred cherries to come nigh, Till "Cherry ripe" themselves do cry. 99 BEN JONSON. SONG. 1574-1637. /^H, do not wanton with those eyes, Lest I be sick with seeing; Nor cast them down, but let them rise, Lest shame destroy their being. Oh, be not angry with those fires, For then their threats will kill me; Nor look too kind on my desires. For then my hopes will spill me. Oh, do not steep them in thy tears, For so will sorrow slay me; Nor spread them as distract with fears, Mine own enough betray me. 100 95en 3^ottiB?ott* PERFECT BEAUTY. FROM "THE NEW INN." TT was a beauty that I saw, So pure, so perfect, as the frame Of all the universe was lame To that one figure could I draw. Or give least line of it a law ! A skein of silk without a knot, A fair march made without a halt, A curious form without a fault, A printed book without a blot. All beauty, and without a spot ! lOI €lii0ibttl^m M^ons^. THE TRIUMPH OF CHARIS. FROM "THE DEVIL IS AN ASS." OEE the chariot at hand here of Love, Wherein my lady rideth ! Each that draws is a swan or a dove, And well the car Love guideth. As she goes, all hearts do duty Unto her beauty. And enamoured do wish, so they might But enjoy such a sight. That they still were to run by her side Through swords, through seas, whither she would ride. Do but look on her eyes; they do light All that Love's world compriseth ! Do but look on her hair; it is bright As Love's star, when it riseth ! Do but mark her forehead, smoother #Than words that soothe her ! 102 25en 'fjcn^nn. And from her arched brows such a grace Sheds itself through the face As alone there triumphs to the life, All the gain, all the good, of the elements* strife ! Have you seen but a bright lily grow. Before rude hands have touched it? Have you marked but the fall of the snow. Before the soil hath smutched it? Have you felt the wool of the beaver. Or swan's down, ever? Or have smelt o' the bud of the brier, Or the nard in the fire? Or have tasted the bag of the bee? Oh so white, oh so soft, oh so sweet is she ! ^03 (ett;atieti)an J^ong^. TO CELIA. r^RINK to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I '11 not look for wine ! The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine, But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath. Not so much honoring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be; But thou thereon did'st only breathe. And sent'st it back to me ; Since when it grows and smells, I swear, Not of itself, but thee. 104 25en 2foii^on» THE S^VEET NEGLECT, FROM "THE SILENT WOMAN." OTILL to be neat, still to be drest As you were going to a feast; Still to be powdered, still perfumed, Lady, it is to be presumed. Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face. That makes simplicity a grace; Robes loosely flowing, hair as free : Such sweet neglect more taketh me Than all the adulteries of art; They strike mine eyes, but not my heart. los €li5aBetljatt ^ong#» o THE KISS. FROM "CYNTHIA'S REVELS." H that joy so soon should waste ! Or so sweet a bUss As a kiss Might not forever last ! So sugared, so melting, so soft, so delicious ! The dew that lies on roses When the morn herself discloses Is not so precious. Oh rather than I would it smother, Were I to taste such another, It should be my wishing That I might die kissing ! io6 25ett S^on^on* THE BANQUET OF SENSE. FROM "THE POETASTER.- 1. 'X'HEN in a free and lofty strain Our broken tunes we thus repair; 2. And we answer them again, Running division on the panting air Ambo. To celebrate this feast of sense, As free from scandal as offence. 1. Here is beauty for the eye; 2. For the ear sweet melody; 1. Ambrosiac odours for the smell; 2. Delicious nectar for the taste; Ambo, For the touch a lady's waist. Which doth all the rest excel. 107 €H;aBetftatt S>ms$. T TO A GLOVE. FROM "CYNTHIA'S REVELS." HOU more than most sweet glove Unto my more sweet love : Suffer me to store with kisses This empty lodging, that now misses The pure rosy hand that wear thee, Whiter than the kid that bear thee. Thou art soft, but that was softer; Cupid's self has kissed it ofter Than e'er he did his mother's doves, Supposing her the queen of loves That was thy mistress, best of gloves. io8 25en ^fan^on* yENETUN SONG. FROM "VOLPONE, OR THE FOX." /^OME, my Celia, let us prove, While we can, the sports of love; Time will not be ours forever, He at length our good will sever. Spend not then his gifts in vain : Suns that set may rise again; But if once we lose this light, 'T is with us perpetual night. Why should we defer our joys? Fame and rumour are but toys. Cannot we delude the eyes Of a few poor household spies? Or his easier ears beguile. Thus removed by our wile? 'T is no sin love's fruits to steal ; But the sweet thefts to reveal. To be taken, to be seen, — These have crimes accounted been. 109 WILLIAM DRUMMOND. 1585-1649. TO CHLORIS. QEE, Chloris, how the clouds Tilt in the azure lists, And how with Stygian mists Each horned hill his giant forehead shrouds ; Jove thund'reth in the air; The air, grown great with rain, Now seems to bring Deucalion's days again. I see thee quake; come, let us home repair; Come, hide thee in mine arms, If not for love, yet to shun greater harms. no H^illtam SDmmmonti. MADRIGAL QWEET rose ! whence is this hue Which doth all hues excel? Whence this most fragrant smell? And whence this form and gracing grace in you? In flowery Poestum's field perhaps ye grew, Or Hybla's hills you bred, Or odoriferous Enna's plains you fed. Or Tmolus, or where boar young Adon slew. Or hath the Queen of Love you dyed of new In that dear blood, which makes you look so red? No ! none of these, but cause more high you blissed : My Lady's breast you bare, and lips you kissed. Ill nns^. Or a well disposed nature Joyned with a lovely feature? Be she meeker, kinder than Turtle-dove or Pelican, — If she be not so to me. What care I how kind she be? Shall a woman's vertues move Me to perish for her love? Or her wel deservings knowne Make me quite forget mine own? Be she with that goodness blest Which may merit name of best, — If she be not such to me. What care I how good she be? 'Cause her fortune seems too high Shall I play the fool and die? She that beares a noble mind, If not outward helpes she find. Thinks what with them he wold do, That without them dares her woe: i6 (©eorge Witf^tt. And unlesse that minde I see, What care I how great she be? Great, or good, or kind, or faire, I will ne'er the more despaire : If she love me (this beleeve), I will die ere she shall grieve. If she slight me when I woe, I can scome and let her goe ; For if she be not for me. What care I for whom she be? 117 dtli^httt^an ^ongief. yi SONG TO HER BEAUTY. FROM "THE MISTRESS OF PHILARETE." A ND her lips (that show no dulness) Full are, in the meanest fulness : Those the leaves be whose unfolding Brings sweet pleasures to beholding; For such pearls they do disclose Both the Indies match not those, Yet are so in order placed As their whiteness is more graced. Each part is so well disposed, And her dainty mouth composed, So as there is no distortion Misbeseems that sweet proportion. When her ivory teeth she buries Twixt her two enticing cherries, There appear such pleasures hidden As might tempt what were forbidden. ii8 <&totiit Wit^tx. If you look again the whiles She doth part those lips in smiles, 'T is as when a flash of light Breaks from heaven to glad the night. 119 THOMAS CAREW. SONG. 1589-1639. W OULD you know what 's soft? I dare Not bring you to the down or air, Nor to stars to show what *s bright, Nor to snow to teach you white; Nor, if you would music hear, Call the orbs to take your ear; Nor, to please your sense, bring forth Bruised nard, or what 's more worth ; Or on food were your thoughts placed. Bring you nectar for a taste. Would you have all these in one, — Name my mistress, and 't is done ! 120 €||oma^ Careto. A PRAYER TO THE mND. r^ O, thou gentle whispering wind, Bear this sigh ; and if thou find Where my cruel fair doth rest. Cast it in her snowy breast : So enflamed by my desire, It may set her heart afire ; Those sweet kisses thou shalt gain Will reward thee for thy pain. Boldly light upon her lip. There suck odours, and thence skip To her bosom. Lastly, fall Down, and wander over all; Range about those ivory hills From whose every part distils Amber dew; there spices grow, There pure streams of nectar flow. There perfume thyself, and bring All those sweets upon thy wing. 121 (tElij^^^fi^^ ^on0^. As thou retum'st, change by thy power Every weed into a flower; Turn each thistle to a vine, Make the bramble eglantine. For so rich a booty made, Do but this, and I am paid. Thou canst with thy powerful blast Heat apace and cool as fast; Thou canst kindle hidden flame, And again destroy the same : Then, for pity, either stir Up the fire of love in her. That alike both flames may shine. Or else quite extinguish mine. 132 €l^omai0f Cateto^ DISDAIN RETURNED. T TE that loves a rosy cheek, Or a coral lip admires, Or from star-like eyes doth seek Fuel to maintain his fires, — As Old Time makes these decay, So his flames must waste away. But a smooth and steadfast mind, Gentle thoughts and calm desires. Hearts with equal love combined. Kindle never-dying fires: Where these are not, I despise Lovely cheeks or lips or eyes. No tears, Celia, now shall win My resolved heart to return; I have searched thy soul within, And find nought but pride and scorn I have learned thy arts, and now Can disdain as much as thou ! 123 <6Ii;d&et{^an ^on^^. THE PRIMROSE, A SK me why I send you here This firstUng of the infant year; Ask me why I send to you This primrose all bepearled with dew, — I straight will whisper in your ears, The sweets of love are washed with tears. Ask me why this flower doth show So yellow, green, and sickly too; Ask me why the stalk is weak. And bending, yet it doth not break, — I must tell you, these discover What doubts and fears are in a lover. 124 €{)oma^ Careto. UNGRATEFUL BEAUTY. ly'NOW, Celia, since thou art so proud, 'T was I that gave thee thy renown. Thou hadst in the forgotten crowd Of common beauties Hved unknown, Had not my verse exhaled thy name, And with it impt the wings of Fame. That kilHng power is none of thine, — I gave it to thy voice and eyes : Thy sweets, thy graces, all are mine; Thou art my star, shin'st in my skies. Then dart not from thy borrowed sphere Lightning on him that fixed thee there. Tempt me with such affrights no more, Lest what I made I uncreate; Let fools thy mystic forms adore, I '11 know thee in thy mortal state. Wise poets, that wrapt truth in tales, Knew her themselves through all her veils. 125 €lt$eihet^n M>ms$. Y CELIA SINGING. OU that think love can convey- No other way But through the eyes into the heart His fatal dart, — Close up those casements, and but hear This siren sing; And on the wing Of her sweet voice it shall appear That love can enter at the ear. Then unveil your eyes; behold The curious mould Where that voice dwells : and as we know When the cocks crow We freely may Gaze on the day, So may you, when the music 's done, Awake and see the rising sun. 126 ^ , ' J - > D J J » J > 5 €f^oma^ Cateto* SONG. A SK me no more where Jove bestows, When June is past, the fading rose; For in your beauty's orient deep These flowers, as in their causes, sleep. Ask me no more whither do stray The golden atoms of the day ; For, in pure love. Heaven did prepare Those powders to enrich your hair. Ask me no more whither doth haste The nightingale, when May is past; For in your sweet dividing throat She winters, and keeps warm her note. Ask me no more where those stars hght That downwards fall in dead of night ; For in your eyes they sit, and there Fix^d become, as in their sphere. 127 €lt5aBetliatt ^ong^. Ask me no more if east or west The phoenix builds her spicy nest; For unto you at last she flies, And in your fragrant bosom dies. 128 €f>omai0? CareiD* IN PRAISE OF HIS MISTRESS. WOU that will a wonder know, Go with me : Two suns in a heaven of snow Both burning be. All they fire that do but eye them, Yet the snow 's unmelted by them. Leaves of crimson tulips met Guide the way Where two pearly rows be set. As white as day; When they part themselves asunder, She breathes oracles of wonder. All this but the casket is Which contains Such a jewel, as to miss Breeds endless pains : That 's her mind, and they that know it May admire, but cannot show it. 129 ^JijaBetftan S>ms^. RED AND IVHITE ROSES. OEAD in these roses the sad story Of my hard fate and your own glory : In the white you may discover The paleness of a fainting lover; In the red the flames still feeding On my heart with fresh wounds bleeding. The white will tell you how I languish, And the red express my anguish; The white my innocence displaying, The red my martyrdom betraying. The frowns that on your brow resided Have those roses thus divided. Oh, let your smiles but clear the weather, And then they both shall grow together ! 130 €|)omai8? CarettJ. THE PROTESTATION. IV TO more shall meads be decked with flowers, Nor sweetness dwell in rosy bowers, Nor greenest buds on branches spring. Nor warbling birds delight to sing, Nor April violets paint the grove, If I forsake my Celia's love. The fish shall in the ocean bum, And fountains sweet shall bitter turn ; The humble oak no flood shall know When floods shall highest hills o'erflow; Black Lethe shall oblivion leave, — If e'er my Celia I deceive. Love shall his bow and shaft lay by, And Venus' doves want wings to fly; The Sun refuse to show his light, And day shall then be turned to night; And in that night no star appear, — If once I leave my Celia dear. 131 ^lijalietlian ^ong^* Love shall no more inhabit earth, Nor lovers more shall love for worth, Nor joy above in heaven dwell, Nor pain torment poor souls in hell; Grim death no more shall horrid prove. If e'er I leave bright Celia's love. [32 WILLIAM BROWNE. 1590-1645. THE SIREN'S SONG. FROM "A MASQUE OF THE INNER TEMPLE." QTEER, hither steer your winged pines, All beaten mariners ! Here lie Love's undiscovered mines, A prey to passengers; Perfumes far sweeter than the best, Which make the Phoenix's urn and nest. Fear not your ships, Nor any to oppose you save our lips; But come on shore. Where no joy dies till Love hath gotten more; 133 ^lijaljetlian J^ongia?. For swelling waves our panting breasts, Where never storms arise, Exchange, and be awhile our guests; For stars, gaze on our eyes ! The compass Love shall hourly sing, And as he goes about the ring. We will not miss To tell each point he nameth with a kiss. Then come on shore, Where no joy dies till Love has gotten more. 134 i©illiam 25rototte. SONG, Al/ELCOME, welcome do I sing, Far more welcome than the spring ! He that parteth from you never Shall enjoy a spring forever. Love that to the voice is near, Breaking from your ivory pale, Need not walk abroad to hear The delightful nightingale. Welcome, welcome then I sing. Far more welcome than the spring ! He that parteth from you never Shall enjoy a spring forever. Love, that looks still on your eyes Though the winter have begun To benumb our arteries. Shall not want the summer's sun. Welcome, welcome, etc. 135 ^lijafietliatt ^ong^. Love that still may see your cheeks, Where all rareness still reposes, Is a fool if e'er he seeks Other Hlies, other roses. Welcome, welcome, etc. Love to whom your soft lip yields, And perceives your breath in kissing, All the odours of the fields Never, never shall be missing. Welcome, welcome, etc. Love that question would anew What fair Eden was of old, Let him rightly study you. And a brief of that behold. Welcome, welcome, etc. 136 -.TTT^glL ROBERT HERRICK. 159X-X674 THE ROCK OF RUBIES. QOME asked me where the rubies grew; And nothing I did say, But with my finger pointed to The Hps of Julia. Some asked how pearls did grow, and where ; Then spoke I to my girl To part her lips, and show me there The quarrelets of pearl. 137 €U}aBetf)an M>ms$. UPON SAPPHO SIVEETLY PLAYING AND SIVEETLY SINGING. "11 7 HEN thou dost play and sweetly sing, Whether it be the voice or string, Or both of them, that do agree Thus to entrance and ravish me, — This, this I know, I 'm oft struck mute; And die away upon thy lute. 138 Mcbttt i^emcfe> TO MEADOWS. /E have been fresh and green, Ye have been filled with flowers; And ye the walks have been Where maids have spent their hours. You have beheld how they With wicker arks did come. To kiss and bear away The richer cowslips home. You 've heard them sweetly sing, And seen them in a round, — Each virgin, like a spring. With honeysuckles crowned. But now we see none here Whose silvery feet did tread. And with dishevelled hair Adorned this smoother mead. 139 ^eiijaBetljan ^ons^* Like unthrifts, having spent Your stock, and needy grown, You 're left here to lament Your poor estates alone. 140 iSofiert f$tmth. DELIGHT IN DISORDER. A SWEET disorder in the dress Kindles in clothes a wantonness: A lawn about the shoulders thrown Into a fine distraction; An erring lace, which here and there Enthrals the crimson stomacher^ A cuff neglectful, and thereby Ribbons to flow confusedly; A winning wave, deserving note, In the tempestuous petticoat; A careless shoe-string, in whose tie I see a wild civility, — Do more bewitch me, than when art Is too precise in every part. 14 i Clijafietljan ^ong^* THE NIGHT PIECE. ITER eyes the glow-worm lend thee, The shooting stars attend thee; And the elves also, Whose little eyes glow Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee. No Will-o'-th'-Wisp mis-light thee; Nor snake or slow-worm bite thee ; But on, on thy way. Not making a stay ! Since ghost there 's none to affright thee. Let not the dark thee cumber; What though the moon does slumber? The stars of the night Will lend thee their light, Like tapers clear, without number. 142 ^tibttt ^tttith. Then, Julia, let me woo thee Thus, thus to come unto me; And when I shall meet Thy silvery feet, My soul I '11 pour into thee. 143 €li$alieti)an ^ong^. TO THE VIRGINS. i^^ATHER ye rosebuds while ye may, ^^ Old Time is still a-flying; And this same flower that smiles to-day To-morrow will be dying. The glorious lamp of heaven, the Sun, The higher he 's a-getting, The sooner will his race be run, And nearer he 's to setting. That age is best which is the first. When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse and worst Times still succeed the former. Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may, go marry; For having lost but once your prime, You may forever tarry. 144 mo&ert 1$tmth. w ^RT ABOl^E NATURE. HEN I behold a forest spread With silken trees upon thy head; And when I see that other dress Of flowers set in comeliness ; When I behold another grace In the ascent of curious lace. Which like a pinnacle doth show The top, and the top-gallant too; Then when I see thy tresses bound Into an oval, square or round. And knit in knots far more than I Can tell by tongue, or true-love tie; Next, when those lawny films I see Play with a wild civility; And all those airy silks to flow. Alluring me, and tempting so, — I must confess, mine eye and heart Dote less on nature than on art. US dtlx^tt^n ^ms0. CHERRY-RIPE. /^HERRY-RIPE, ripe, ripe! I cry, Full and fair ones ; come and buy ! If so be you ask me where They do grow? I answer, there Where my Julia's lips do smile, — There 's the land, or cherry-isle, Whose plantations fully show All the year where cherries grow. 146 moBert J^erritfe. TO THE ROSE. f^Oy happy rose, and interwove With other flowers, bind my love. Tell her, too, she must not be Longer flowing, longer free, That so oft has fettered me. Say, if she 's fretful, I have bands Of pearl and gold to bind her hands ; Tell her, if she struggle still, I have myrtle rods at will For to tame, though not to kill. Take thou my blessing thus, and go And tell her this — But do not so ! Lest a handsome anger fly Like a lightning from her eye, And bum thee up as well as I. 147 (6it;a&etl)an ^ong^. ON CHLORIS IVALKING IN THE SNOIV. T SAW faire Chloris walke alone When feathered rain came softly down; Then Jove descended from his Tower, To court her in a silver shower. The wanton snow flew to her breast, Like little birds into their nest; But overcome with whiteness there, For griefe it thawed into a teare, Then falling down her garment hem To deck her, froze into a gem. 148 iSofiert i^emtft. HOM^ ROSES CAME RED. OOSES at first were white, Till they co'd not agree Whether my Sappho's breast Or they more white sho'd be. But being vanquisht quite, A blush their cheeks bespred; Since which (beleeve the rest) The roses first came red. 149 JAMES SHIRLEY. THE LOOKING-GLASS. Z594-1666. \ 17" HEN this crystal shall present Your beauty to your eye, Think ! that lovely face was meant To dress another by. For not to make them proud These glasses are allowed To those are fair, But to compare The inward beauty with the outward grace, And make them fair in soul as well as face. 150 • «•'.»»> m- ^-- .^^i r 3Pame^ ^ftiriep^ A LULLABY. FROM "THE TRIUMPH OF BEAUTY." A^EASE, warring thoughts, and let his brain No more discord entertain, But be smooth and calm again. Ye crystal rivers that are nigh. As your streams are passing by Teach your murmers harmony. Ye winds that wait upon the Spring, And perfumes to flowers do bring, Let your amorous whispers here Breathe soft music to his ear. Ye warbling nightingales repair From every wood to charm this air, And with the wonders of your breast Each striving to excel the rest, — When it is time to wake him, close your parts And drop down from the tree with broken hearts. 151 ^lijafietl^an ^ong^. TO ONE SAYING SHE IV AS OLD. TTELL me not Time hath played the thief Upon her beauty ! My belief Might have been mocked, and I had been An heretic, if I had not seen My mistress is still fair to me. And now I all those graces see That did adorn her virgin brow: Her eye hath the same flame in 't now To kill or save; the chemist's fire Equally burns, — so my desire; Not any rose-bud less within Her cheek; the same snow on her chin; Her voice that heavenly music bears First charmed my soul, and in my ears Did leave it trembling; her lips are The self-same lovely twins they were : After so many years I miss No flower in all my paradise. Time, I despise thy rage and thee ! Thieves do not always thrive, I see. 152 3Fame^ ^lliriep* ON HER DANCING, T STOOD and saw my mistress dance, Silent, and with so fixed an eye Some might suppose me in a trance. But being asked why, By one that knew I was in love, I could not but impart My wonder to behold her move So nimbly with a marble heart. ^S3 EDMUND WALLER. 1603-1686. ON A GIRDLE. PHAT which her slender waist confined Shall now my joyful temples bind; No monarch but would give his crown His arms might do what this has done ! It was my heaven's extremest sphere, The pale which held that lovely deer ! My joy, my grief, my hope, my love, Did all within this circle move ! A narrow compass, and yet there Dwelt all that 's good and all that 's fair ! Give me but what this ribband bound, Take all the rest the sun goes round ! 154 ons$. TO FLA I/' I A. "T^ IS not your beauty can engage My wary heart : The sun, in all his pride and rage, Has not that art ! And yet he shines as bright as you, If brightness could our souls subdue. 'Tis not the pretty things you say, Nor those you write, Which can make Thyrsis' heart your prey For that delight. The graces of a well-taught mind. In some of our own sex we find. No, Flavia ! 't is your love I fear ; Love's surest darts. Those which so seldom fail him, are Headed with hearts : Their very shadows make us yield; Dissemble well, and win the field ! 156 €t>munti WeXltt, STAYy PHCEBUS. OTAY, Phoebus! stay! The world to which you fly so fast, Conveying day From us to them, can pay your haste With no such object, nor salute your rise With no such wonder, as De Momay's eyes. Well does this prove The error of those antique books Which made you move About the world ! Her charming looks Would fix your beams, and make it ever day, Did not the rolling earth snatch her away. ^S7 €li5a6etf|att ^msfi. SONG. ■^O, lovely rose, Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows When I resemble her to thee How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that 's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That had'st thou sprung In deserts where no men abide. Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired; Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired. And not blush so to be admired. 158 €timunb Walltt, Then die, that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, — How small a part of time they share Who are so wondrous sweet and fair ! 159 WILLIAM HABINGTON. 1605-1645. TO ROSES IN THE BOSOM OF CASTARA. WE blushing virgins happy are In the chaste nunnery of her breasts, For he 'd profane so chaste a fair Who e'er should call them Cupid's nests. Transplanted thus how bright ye grow, How rich a perfume do ye yield ! In some close garden cowslips so Are sweeter than i' th' open field. 160 IBiiliam I^inston. In those white cloisters Hve secure From the rude blasts of wanton breath, Each hour more innocent and pure, Till you shall wither into death. Then that which living gave you room Your glorious sepulchre shall be; There wants no marble for a tomb, Whose breast has marble been to me. i6i ^lijaBetljan ^ong^. TO CUPID, UPON A DIMPLE IN CASTARA'S CHEEK. IVTIMBLE boy, in thy warm flight What cold tyrant dimmed thy sight? Had'st thou eyes to see my fair, Thou would'st sigh thyself to air Fearing, to create this one, Nature had herself undone. But if you when this you hear Fall down murdered through your ear, Beg of Jove that you may have In her cheek a dimpled grave. Lily, rose, and violet Shall the perfumed hearse beset; While a beauteous sheet of lawn O'er the wanton corpse is drawn; And all lovers use this breath : "Here lies Cupid blest in death." 162 texHiam J^afimstom THE REWARD OF INNOCENT LOVE. \17E saw and wooed each other's eyes; My soul contracted then with thine. And both burned in one sacrifice, By which the marriage grew divine. Time 's ever ours while we despise The sensual idol of our clay; For though the sun doth set and rise, We joy one everlasting day. Whose light no jealous clouds obscure. While each of us shine innocent, The troubled stream is still impure : With virtue flies away content. And though opinion often err. We '11 court the modest smile of fame ; For sin's black danger circles her Who hath infection in her name. 163 mq$. TRUE LOVE. IVTO, no, fair heretic ! it needs must be But an ill love in me, And worse for thee; For were it in my power To love thee now this hour More than I did the last, 'T would then so fall I might not love at all ! Love that can flow and can admit increase, Admits as well an ebb, and may grow less. True love is still the same; the torrid zones And those more frigid ones It must not know : For love grown cold or hot Is lust, or friendship, not The thing we have. For that 's a flame would die Held down, or up too high. Then think I love more than I can express, And would love more, could I but love thee less. i68 ^ir ^Fofttt J>ucfelm0* SONG. T PRITHEE send me back my heart, Since I can not have thine ; For if from yours you will not part, Why then shouldst thou have mine? Yet now I think on 't, let it lie. To find it were in vain; For th' hast a thief in either eye Would steal it back again ! Why should two hearts in one breast lie, And yet not lodge together? O Love ! where is thy sympathy, If thus our breasts thou sever? But love is such a mystery, I cannot find it out; For when I think I 'm best resolved, I then am in most doubt. 169 dtli^ahtt^an M>ons$* Then farewell care, and farewell woe, I will no longer pine; For I '11 believe I have her heart As much as she hath mine. 170 RICHARD LOVELACE. 1618-1658. TO ALTHEA FROM PRISON. \1 7HEN love with unconfin^d wings Hovers within my gates, And my divine Althea brings To whisper at the grates; When I lie tangled in her hair And fettered to her eye, — The birds that wanton in the air Know no such liberty. When flowing cups run swiftly round With no allaying Thames, Our careless heads with roses bound, Our hearts with loyal flames; 171 Cttj^etftan S>tmtsfi* When thirsty grief in wine we steep, When healths and draughts go free, Fishes that tipple in the deep Know no such liberty. When, like committed linnets, I With shriller throat shall sing The sweetness, mercy, majesty, And glories of my King; When I shall voice aloud how good He is, how great should be, — Enlarged winds that curl the flood Know no such Uberty. Stone walls do not a prison make. Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love, And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty. 172 "fiTST. JSicfiatti Sobeldce. GOING TO THE IVARS. T^ELL me not, sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind To war and arms I fly ! True, a new mistress now I chase, — The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore, — I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more. ^71 (eiijatietljan ^ongiaf* THE ROSE. QWEET, serene, sky-like flower, Haste to adorn her bower ! From thy long cloudy bed Shoot forth thy damask head ! New-startled blush of Flora, The grief of pale Aurora (Who will contest no more), Haste, haste to strew her floor ! Vermilion ball that 's given From lip to lip in heaven. Love's couch's coverled, Haste, haste to make her bed ! Dear offspring of pleased Venus And jolly plump Silenus, Haste, haste to deck the hair O' the only sweetly fair ! 174 micl^arb 3tobeIace. See ! rosy is her bower ; Her floor is all this flower; Her bed a rosy nest By a bed of roses pressed ! »75 ABRAHAM COWLEY. 1618 1667. THE THIEF. 'T'HOU robb'st my days of business and delights ; Of sleep thou robb'st my nights. Ah, lovely thief, what wilt thou do? What, rob me of heaven too? Thou even my prayers dost steal from me, And I, with wild idolatry. Begin to God, and end them all to thee ! Is it a sin to love, that it should thus Like an ill conscience torture us? Whate'er I do, where'er I go (None guiltless e'er was haunted so), 776 3ll6taf)am CotDlep. Still, still, methinks thy face I view, And still thy shape does me pursue, As not you me, but / had murdered you. From books I strive some remedy to take. But thy name all the letters make Whate'er 't is writ ; I find that there. Like points and commas, everywhere. Me blest for this let no man hold; For I, as Midas did of old. Perish by turning everything to gold. 177 €lx^htt^an ^ms^. LOyE IN HER SUNNY EYES. I OVE in her sunny eyes does basking play; Love walks the pleasant mazes of her hair; Love does on both her lips forever stray, And sows and reaps a thousand kisses there : In all her outward parts Love 's always seen : But, oh ! he never went within. 178 14 DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED LOAN DEPT. This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. EC P LD £C 14 1956 RCC'D LD JUN 7 1961 RECrD'%a7TS ^^^nmiu^-i-D Hf'K 161^7. 5Uo ' S9^^ KZCD LD OCT ^ i 1S59 22May ' 6lLD 22MAY'^:: - f REC'D U^ MAY Z a >uo^ OCT 251991 [§ iiji; NOV 1 5 1991 LD 21-100m-6,'56 (B9311sl0)476 General Library University of California Berkeley / SfftKetf y L //.?'"»/fs '"''^^^^,0