«J»iMttlQ«iQ«i«KiWKiC«il^^ 
 
 Ilie Book 
 
 of 
 
 Elizabethan Verse 
 
Classics L&o.^ 
 Book '-^"^ 
 
 GoipghtN"- 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
The 
 
 Book of Elizabethan 
 
 Verse 
 
The 
 Book of Elizabethan 
 
 Verse 
 
 Chosen and Edited with Notes by 
 William Stanley Braithwaite 
 
 With an Introduction by 
 Thomas Wentworth Higginson 
 
 ^^W'^iufi'Mdaa^'' 
 
 ^390 
 
 Boston 
 
 HERBERT B. TURNER & CO. 
 
 1907 
 
.37 
 
 qo.f 
 
 Copyright, 1906 
 By Herbert B, Turner & Co. 
 
 Copyright, igoj 
 By Herbert B. Turner & Co. 
 
 All Rights Reserved 
 
 UBRARY of CONGRESS 
 Tw Cooic$ Received 
 
 JUN 7 \9or 
 
 iLASS C^ XXC, No. 
 COPY B. 
 
 Published November, igo6 
 Second edition. May, 1907 
 
 COLONIAL PRESS 
 
 Electrotyped and printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. 
 
 Boston, U. S. A. 
 

 DEDICATED TO 
 
 IN RECOGNITION OF A LONG LIFE SPENT IN 
 
 THE SERVICE OF HUMANITY 
 
 AND LETTERS 
 
Out of the conquered Past 
 
 Unravtshahle Beauty; 
 Hearts that are dew and dust 
 
 Rebuking the dream of Death; 
 Flower of the clay down-cast 
 
 Triumphant in earth's aroma; 
 Strings that were strained in rust 
 
 J -tremble with Music's breath! 
 
 Wine that was spilt in haste 
 
 Arising in fumes more precious; 
 Garlands that fell forgot 
 
 Rooting to wondrous bloom; 
 Youth that would flow to waste 
 
 Pausing in pool-green valleys — 
 And Passion that lasted not 
 
 Surviving the voiceless Tomb! 
 
 Arthur Upson. 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 This book furnishes^ if I am not mistaken^ the largest and 
 therefore most valuable collection yet printedy on either side 
 the Atlantic Ocean, of the poetry of the great Elizabethan 
 period in England. This alone should make it a work of 
 much value for use in all those colleges and high schools 
 where the worth of the best literature is habitually appre- 
 ciated. Were it only for the service of such institutions the 
 very best poetry of every epoch ought to be collected bodily 
 and not merely selected, as if by samples. Few indeed are 
 there among the teachers of such schools who will not find 
 in this volume, as I have found, many poems of striking 
 value and interest which have escaped all their previous 
 reading. 
 
 The sonorous epithet of " Elizabethan '* is commonly ap- 
 plied to the epoch to which this volume is substantially con- 
 fined. Tet It will always remain doubtful how far the school 
 of poetry here represented ought justly to bear that great 
 queen s name. That she had some knowledge of Latin and 
 Greek we know, and that she spoke several modern languages 
 with some degree of ■p.uency. It has however, -been justly 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 clatmed by one of the most accomplished of Englishwomen^ 
 Mrs. Anna "Jameson^ that her Majesty was " much fonder of 
 displaying her own name than of encouraging the learned." 
 Indeedy the same impression of her is rather confirmed than 
 otherwise by the extravagant flattery pronounced on the queen 
 by one who was in some respects the best critic of his day, 
 Puttenham, the author of the " Arte of English Poesie." He 
 assures us that the queen s " learned, delicate, and noble 
 muse easily surmounteth all the rest that have written before 
 her time or since, for sense, sweetness and subtilitie . . . 
 even by as much oddes as her own excellent estate and degree 
 exceedeth all the rest of her most humble vassals." The slight- 
 est glance at her Majesty's so-called poetry will dispose of all 
 such flattering criticism, while on the other hand the mere 
 names of such writers as Shakespeare, Bacon, Sidney, Ra- 
 leigh, Hooker, Spenser, Marvell, Herrick, and the rest stand 
 out as memorials of an intellectual group which must have 
 been greatly self-sustaining and by no means the outcome of 
 any mere patronage. 
 
 What it is which provides at irregular intervals of human 
 history such rare intellectual groups, we cannot tell; and De 
 Quincey seems hardly extravagant when he likens them to 
 earthquake periods or equinoctial gales, things inscrutable 
 and wondrous. It is hardly necessary to point out that 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 England has had later intellectual periods^ equally well de- 
 fined y if not collectively quite so great; those, for instance, 
 represented by the names of Burns and Byron, of Coleridge 
 and Wordsworth, of Tennyson and Browning. Even America 
 IS now old enough to look hack on two marked epochs, the one 
 represented by Cooper and Irving — writers of prose only — 
 the other by Emerson and Longfellow. The utmost that can 
 be done for these exceptional combinations ts to study them 
 while they still flourish, and do justice to them when they have 
 passed by. Tet all other such groups are unquestionably 
 dwarfed by the wealth and variety of the Elizabethan period ; 
 and it is to this theme accordingly that the present volume 
 IS devoted. 
 
 Thomas Wentworth Higginson. 
 
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION 
 
 In the second edition of this Anthology the editor has availed 
 himself of suggestions by the professors of English in many of 
 our leading universities which will tend to greatly increase 
 its value, which, with much satisfaction to both the publishers 
 and the editor, has been acknowledged by the sympathetic 
 reception which greeted its publication. 
 
 In accordance with these suggestions there has been sup- 
 plied in place of an index of poems by numbers, an index of 
 titles under authors with short biographies of each. A glossary 
 has also been added. In some instances slight changes have 
 been made in the text. Where these have occurred, it has 
 been due to a question of accuracy in the original versions or 
 to later alterations by editors, with a view to rendering six- 
 teenth-century meaning understandable to the point of view 
 of the present day. 
 
 I hereby acknowledge my obligations for these suggestions 
 and for encouraging words of praise to Prof. William Hand 
 Browne, of Johns Hopkins University, Prof. William Lyon 
 Phelps, of Tale University, Adele Lathrop, of Wellesley 
 College, Prof. Felix Schelling, of the University of Penn- 
 sylvania, Prof. Brander Matthews and Prof. Curtis Hidden 
 Page, of Columbia University, Prof. Richard Burton, of the 
 University of Minnesota, Prof. W. H. Schofield and Prof. 
 C. T. Copeland, of Harvard University, William Dean 
 Howells, John Russell Hayes, and others. 
 
 W. S. B. 
 
 New Tear's Day, 1907. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 It has been my purpose in compiling this hook to do, what I 
 marvel has not long ago been accomplished — that is, to make a 
 single-volume anthology that would contain the best verse of 
 the Elizabethan Age, whose limits I have set from the publica- 
 tion o/Tottel's Miscellany, 1557, to the poets born as late as the 
 eighteenth year of the seventeenth century. While these dates 
 are the indicative horizon lines of the opening and close of the 
 period, the selections are really chosen from the contributions 
 of one hundred and seventy-one years ; for as we ken that 
 mysterious pathway up which the sun creeps towards dawn, 
 and meditate the solemnity of the woods lying behind the sun- 
 set, so here have we caught those early pipings which set the 
 key for the noonday's golden chorus, and made a nest to give its 
 faint and dying echoes a home after sunset. 
 
 Milton, I have not included, for in my judgment his muse 
 is not Elizabethan, though something more that was strong 
 and independent enough in its genius to create a neiu dawn 
 out of the Elizabethan nightfall. The one pre-eminent poet he 
 remains, without the ensemble of a great contemporary and 
 succeeding group of singers, from the sixteenth century to the 
 births of Blake and Burns, dates after which, for another cen- 
 tury, the soul of English poetry was indigenous to mountain 
 peaks. 
 
 Unlike Mr. Quill er-C ouch's purpose stated in the Preface 
 to his Golden Pomp, my aim has been both to instruct and 
 please ; and this I had hoped to accomplish without being 
 
PREFACE 
 
 scholastic in any sense of attempt at chronological order of 
 authors^ or by adjusting single poems to complement any fact 
 of historical significance. It being true as has been said by a 
 contemporary critic^ that the Age was one when verse was 
 ** used as speech^ and becomes song by way of speech^* there 
 could be nothing better than its poetry as an expression of its 
 manners^ morals^ religious aspirations, national and domestic 
 life, vices, virtues, and the temper of the personal attitude. 
 Soldiers and sea-faring adventurers, courtiers and ambassadors, 
 barons and commons, tavern-vagabonds and play-actors, all 
 wrote verse as the familiar and divine gift of some beneficent 
 god on Parnassus who made the English his chosen people 
 of melody. The world was fresh and young; the West passage 
 to India was still a virgin route, and the chemical forces of 
 nature were unleashed to the utility of man. Beauty and won- 
 der came out of the re-awakened consciousness of the Italian 
 Renaissance; the dim mysterious continent below the sunset 
 filled the dreams in English minds with daring and bravery ; 
 at home were pageants and masques, and a Sovereign who, 
 gracing them with her presence, exerted a subtle influence 
 and power which her subjects from court to hut acknowledged 
 in prayer, praise, and devotion; there was personal and 
 family honour to be cherished and preserved; and women filled 
 mens hearts with a madness for possession as if their lips 
 had tasted the wondrous apples of the Hesperides. And in 
 their doing of these things the desire and the deed were intense. 
 Emotion without any system of psychology went straight to 
 the goal of expression; and out of emotion, thought was born, 
 growing to a marvellous philosophy in Shakespeare, sound 
 ethics in Fulke Greville, and sublime morality in Samuel 
 Daniel. And to these qualities of a universal humanism the 
 period contributed the classicism of Greece and Rome in a sort 
 
PREFACE 
 
 of Hedonism of intellect in Jonson; a riotous Paganism of 
 senses in Lodge and Fletcher; a Platonism of spiritual inter- 
 pretation tn Spenser and his great schoolmen Drayton and 
 Browne; and tn Campion and Herrick a richy ripe lyric 
 utterance which still remains something quite better in sub- 
 stance, form, and expression than any art except that of 
 Shelley. 
 
 In grouping the poems I have followed roughly a general 
 scheme; not too closely nor with the absolute formality of a 
 flower-shop. I have preferred instead, to come out of a prodi- 
 gal and fragrant field with an armful of flowers with perfumes 
 and colours arranged by kind, indifferently, to give something 
 of Nature's variety. 
 
 With Spenser, in all but one instance, the original spelling 
 has been retained since inflection and colour are so intricately 
 woven in the woof of the older fashion of words. With very few 
 exceptions I have been particular to give each poem without 
 omission of stanzas or lines ; especially has this been so in 
 cases where longer verses have been " fashioned " by former 
 editors to give the lyric form and quality, and depleted of fine 
 lines and single stanzas which will be met with here as new to 
 many readers. In making the selections my method was, first 
 to read through the works of the poets in their own editions as far 
 as accessible. Of course no one working in the poetry of the 
 period could hope to do the work half well without the valuable 
 contributions of Mr. Bullens Lyrics from the Elizabethan 
 Song Books. The reader as well as the editor owes to Mr. 
 Bullens patient and scholarly researches through the collec- 
 tions of public and private Manuscripts an infinite debt of 
 gratitude. As it is impossible to indicate acknowledgment of 
 each poem which owes its discovery and publication to his 
 loving and tireless labours, I wish here for all, to express my 
 
PREFACE 
 
 obligation to him. When the numbers were chosen I con- 
 sulted the Anthologies. To Mr. Qutller-Couch' s Golden 
 Pomp / am indebted for Howell's poem ' Of Misery ' on 
 page Sl^^ ««^ Wis dome's ' A Religious Use of Taking 
 Tobacco' on page 547, both of which I had not met 
 with elsewhere. While in my selections I was indepen- 
 dent of the anthologies, I must still accredit to them assistance 
 which I gladly acknowledge in collating the text of different 
 versions, and for many valuable suggestions in punctuation 
 which in a book of this sort is of infinite concern. My obliga- 
 tions are thus rendered to Mr. Quiller-C ouch's Golden Pomp 
 and The Oxford Book of English Verse, the late Mr. 
 Palgrave's Golden Treasury {First Series), Dr. Hannah's 
 The Courtly Poets, Dr. Arber's British Anthologies ( Wyat 
 and Surrey, Spenser, Shakespeare and Jonson), Mr. Bul- 
 lens reprints of England's Helicon and Davison's Poeti- 
 cal Rhapsody, Professor Felix E. Schellings A Book of 
 Elizabethan Lyrics, and Arthur Symons' Sixteenth Cen- 
 tury Anthology, for which I am indebted to Mr, S. C. 
 Williams, Literary Editor of the Boston Advertiser. 
 
 I wish also to tender my thanks for personal assistance and 
 suggestions to Mr. V. Stanley Millikin, to Mr. Burton Kline, 
 and to Mr. Arthur Upson, who read the pages and gave 
 me valuable information for the notes; and to Mr. Thomas 
 Wentworth Higginson, who read the proofs of the entire 
 book and whose wise counsel and encouragement was always 
 generously given. 
 
 Boston, August 17, 1906. 
 
The Doubt 
 
 ^]^E doubt of future foes 
 Exiles my present joy, 
 And wit me warns to shun such snares 
 As threaten mine annoy. 
 
 For falsehood now doth floWy 
 And subject faith doth ebb. 
 Which would not be if reason ruled. 
 Or wisdom weaved the web. 
 
 But clouds of toys untried 
 Do cloak aspiring minds, 
 Which turn to rain of late repent. 
 By course of changed winds. 
 
 The top of hope supposed 
 The root of ruth will be, 
 And fruitless all their graffed guiles. 
 As shortly ye shall see. 
 
 Then dazzled eyes with pride. 
 Which great ambition blinds. 
 Shall be unsealed by worthy wights. 
 Whose foresight falsehood finds. 
 
THE DOUBT 
 
 The daughter of debate, 
 That eke discord doth sow. 
 Shall reap no gain where former rule 
 Hath taught still peace to grow. 
 
 Mo foreign banished wight 
 Shall anchor in this port; 
 Our realm it brooks no stranger s force; 
 Let them elsewhere resort. 
 
 Our rusty sword with rest 
 Shall first his edge employ. 
 To poll their tops that seek such change 
 And gape for future joy. 
 
 Queen Elizabeth 
 
Aubade 
 
 nPHE lark now leaves his wat'ry nest, 
 -^ And climbing shakes his dewy wings. 
 He takes this window for the East, 
 
 And to implore your light he sings — 
 Awake, awake ! the morn will never rise 
 Till she can dress her beauty at your eyes. 
 
 The merchant bows unto the seaman's star. 
 The ploughman from the sun his season takes; 
 
 But still the lover wonders what they are 
 Who look for day before his mistress wakes. 
 
 Awake, awake ! break thro' your veils of lawn ! 
 
 Then draw your curtains, and begin the dawn ! 
 
 Sir W. Davenant 
 
 Dawn 
 
 TI^LY hence, shadows, that do keep 
 
 -*- Watchful sorrows charmed in sleep ! 
 
 Tho' the eyes be overtaken. 
 
 Yet the heart doth ever waken 
 
 Thoughts chained up in busy snares 
 
 Of continual woes and cares : 
 
 Love and griefs are so exprest 
 
 As they rather sigh than rest. 
 
 Fly hence, shadows, that do keep 
 Watchful sorrows charmed in sleep. 
 
 J. Ford 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Matin-Song 
 
 "pACK clouds, away, and welcome, day 
 ■*- With night we banish sorrow. 
 Sweet air, blow soft; mount, lark, 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 Til borrow. 
 
 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 cocksparrow. 
 You pretty elves, amongst yourselves 
 Sing my fair Love good-morrow; 
 To give my Love good-morrow. 
 Sing, birds, in every furrow. 
 
 T. Heywooa 
 
 4, Song to Apollo 
 
 OING to Apollo, god of day, 
 
 ^^ Whose golden beams with morning play 
 
 And make her eyes so brightly shine, 
 
 Aurora's face is called divine; 
 
 Sing to Phoebus and that throne 
 
 Of diamonds which he sits upon. 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 lo, paeans let us sing 
 
 To Physic's and to Poesy's king! 
 
 Crown all his altars with bright fire, 
 Laurels bind about his lyre, 
 A Daphnean coronet for his head. 
 The Muses dance about his bed; 
 When on his ravishing lute he plays, 
 Strew his temple round with bays, 
 lo, paeans let us sing 
 To the glittering DeHan king! 
 
 J. Lyly 
 
 Hark, Hark ! the Lark 
 
 TTARK, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, 
 ■■- '*■ And Phoebus 'gins arise, 
 His steeds to water at those springs 
 
 On chaliced flowers that lies; 
 And winking Mary-buds begin 
 
 To ope their golden eyes : 
 With everything that pretty bin. 
 
 My lady sweet, arise: 
 Arise, arise. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 5. The Love Call 
 
 Phyllida. r^ORYDON, arise, my Corydon ! 
 
 Titan shineth clear. 
 Corydon. Who is it that calleth Corydon ? 
 Who is it that I hear ? 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Phyl. Phyllida, thy true love, calleth thee, 
 Arise then, arise then, 
 
 Arise and keep thy flock with me ! 
 Cor. Phylhda, my true love, is it she ? 
 I come then, I come then, 
 
 I come and keep my flock with thee. 
 
 Phyl. Here are cherries ripe for my Corydon; 
 Eat them for my sake. 
 Cor. Here's my oaten pipe, my lovely one, ^ 
 Sport for thee to make. 
 Phyl. Here are threads, my true love, fine as silk, 
 To knit thee, to knit thee, 
 
 A pair of stockings white as milk. 
 Cor. Here are reeds, my true love, fine and neat. 
 To make thee, to make thee, 
 A bonnet to withstand the heat. 
 
 Phyl. I will gather flowers, my Corydon, 
 To set in thy cap. 
 Cor. I will gather pears, my lovely one. 
 To put in thy lap. 
 Phyl. I will buy my true love garters gay 
 For Sundays, for Sundays, 
 
 To wear about his legs so tall. 
 Cor. I will buy my true love yellow say, 
 For Sundays, for Sundays, 
 
 To wear about her middle small. 
 
 Phyl. When my Corydon sits on a hill 
 Making melody — 
 Cor. When my lovely one goes to her wheel, 
 Singing cheerily — 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 PhyL Sure methinks my true love doth excel 
 For sweetness, for sweetness, 
 
 Our Pan, that old Arcadian knight. 
 Cor. And methinks my true love bears the bell 
 For clearness, for clearness. 
 
 Beyond the nymphs that be so bright. 
 
 PhyL Had my Corydon, my Corydon, 
 
 Been, alack ! her swain — 
 Cor. Had my lovely one, my lovely one. 
 
 Been in Ida plain — 
 
 PhyL Cynthia Endymion had refused. 
 
 Preferring, preferring 
 
 My Corydon to play withal. 
 Cor. The Queen of Love had been excused 
 Bequeathing, bequeathing 
 My Phyllida the golden ball. 
 
 PhyL Yonder comes my mother, Corydon, 
 Whither shall I fly .? 
 Cor. Under yonder beech, my lovely one, 
 While she passeth by. 
 PhyL Say to her thy true love was not here: 
 Remember, remember. 
 
 To-morrow is another day. 
 Cor. Doubt me not, my true love, do not fear; 
 Farewell then, farewell then ! 
 Heaven keep our loves alway. 
 
 Anon. 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 7. Summons to Love 
 
 pHCEBUS, arise! 
 
 -*- And paint the sable skies 
 With azure, white, and red; 
 
 Rouse Memnon's mother from her Tithon's bed. 
 That she thy carriere may with roses spread; 
 The nightingales thy coming each-where sing; 
 Make an eternal Spring ! 
 
 Give life to this dark world which lieth dead; 
 Spread forth thy golden hair 
 In larger locks than thou wast wont before, 
 And emperor-like decore 
 With diadem of pearl thy temples fair: 
 Chase hence the ugly night 
 
 Which serves but to make dear thy glorious light 
 — This is that happy morn. 
 That day, long-wished day 
 Of all my life so dark, 
 (If cruel stars have not my ruin sworn 
 And fates not hope betray). 
 Which, only white, deserves 
 A diamond for ever should it mark. 
 This is the morn should bring unto this grove 
 My Love, to hear and recompense my love. 
 Fair King, who all preserves. 
 But show thy blushing beams, 
 And thou two sweeter eyes 
 
 Shalt see than those which by Peneus' streams 
 Did once thy heart surprise. 
 Nay, suns, which shine as clear 
 As thou when two thou did to Rome appear. 
 6 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Now, Flora, deck thyself in fairest guise* 
 
 If that ye, winds, would hear 
 
 A voice surpassing far Amphion's lyre, 
 
 Your stormy chiding stay; 
 
 Let Zephyr only breathe. 
 
 And with her tresses play. 
 
 Kissing sometimes these purple ports of death, 
 
 — The winds all silent are, 
 
 And Phoebus in his chair 
 
 Ensaffroning sea and air 
 
 Makes vanish every star: 
 
 Night like a drunkard reels 
 
 Beyond the hills, to shun his flaming wheels: 
 
 The fields with flowers are deck'd in every hue. 
 
 The clouds with orient gold spangle their blue; 
 
 Here is the pleasant place — 
 
 And everything, save Her, who all should grace. 
 
 W. Drummond 
 
 8. On a Fair Morning 
 
 /'~\N a fair morning, as I came by the way, 
 
 ^^ Met I with a merry maid in the merry month ot 
 
 May; 
 When a sweet love sings his lovely lay 
 And every bird upon the bush bechirps it up so gay: 
 With a heave and a ho ! with a heave and a ho ! 
 Thy wife shall be thy master, I trow. 
 Sing, care away, care away, let the world go ! 
 Hey, lustily all in a row, all in a row. 
 Sing, care away, care away, let the world go! 
 
 Anon, 
 7 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 g. Stay, O Sweet 
 
 O TAY, O sweet, and do not rise ! 
 
 ^-^ The light that shines comes from thine eyes; 
 
 The day breaks not: it is my heart, 
 Because that you and I must part. 
 
 Stay! or else my joys will die. 
 
 And perish in their infancy. 
 
 Tis true, 'tis day : what though it be .? 
 O, wilt thou therefore rise from me 1 
 
 Why should we rise because 'tis light ? 
 Did we lie down because 'twas night ? 
 
 Love, which in spite of darkness brought us hither, 
 
 Should in despite of light keep us together. 
 
 Light hath no tongue, but is all eye. 
 If it could speak as well as spy. 
 
 This were the worst that it could say : — 
 That, being well, I fain would stay, 
 
 And that I lov'd my heart and honour so. 
 
 That I would not from him, that had them, go. 
 
 Must business thee from hence remove ? 
 Oh, that's the worse disease of love ! 
 
 The poor, the fool, the false, love can 
 Admit, but not the busied man. 
 
 He, which hath business, and makes love, doth do 
 Such wrong, as when a married man doth woo. 
 
 y. Donne 
 8 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 10, The Night Is Near Gone 
 
 TTEY! now the day dawis; 
 -*- -*- The jolly cock crawis; 
 Now shroudis the shawis 
 
 Thro' Nature anon. 
 The thissel-cock cryis 
 On lovers wha lyis : 
 Now skaillis the skyis; 
 
 The nicht is neir gone. 
 
 The fieldis ouerflowis 
 With gowans that growis, 
 Quhair lilies like low is 
 
 As red as the rone. 
 The turtle that true is, 
 With notes that renewis, 
 Her pairty pursuis: 
 
 The nicht is neir gone. 
 
 Now hairtis with hindis 
 Conform to their kindis, 
 Hie tursis their tyndis 
 
 On ground quhair they grone. 
 Now hurchonis, with hairis, 
 . Aye passis in pairis; 
 Quhilk duly declaris 
 
 The nicht is neir gone. 
 
 The season excellis 
 Through sweetness that smellis; 
 Now Cupid compellis 
 Our hairtis echone 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 On Venus wha waikis, 
 To muse on our maikis, 
 Syne sing for their saikis — 
 " The nicht is neir gone ! '^ 
 
 All courageous knichtis 
 Aganis the day dichtis 
 The breist-plate that bright is 
 
 To fight with their fone. 
 The stoned steed stampis 
 Through courage, and crampis, 
 Syne on the land lampis: 
 
 The nicht is neir gone. 
 
 The friekis on feildis 
 That wight wapins weildis 
 With shyning bright shieldis 
 
 At Titan in trone; 
 Stiff speiris in reistis 
 Ouer corseris crestis 
 Are broke on their breistis: 
 
 The nicht is neir gone. 
 
 So hard are their hittis, 
 Some sweyis, some sittis, 
 And some perforce flittis 
 
 On ground quhile they grone. 
 Syne groomis that gay is 
 On blonkis that brayis 
 With swordis assayis : — 
 
 The nicht is neir gone. 
 
 A. Montgomerie 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 //. Spring's Welcome 
 
 "\ 1^ THAT bird so sings, yet so does wail ? 
 ^ ^ O 'tis the ravish'd nightingale. 
 fug, jugy jugy jug, tereu! she cries, 
 And still her woes at midnight rise. 
 Brave prick-song ! Who is't now we hear ? 
 None but the lark so shrill and clear; 
 Now at heaven's gate she claps her wings. 
 The morn not waking till she sings. 
 Hark, hark, with what a pretty throat 
 Poor robin redbreast tunes his note; 
 Hark how the jolly cuckoos sing 
 Cuckoo! to welcome in the spring! 
 Cuckoo! to welcome in the spring! 
 
 r Lyly 
 
 12. Spring 
 
 OPRING, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king; 
 "^ Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring, 
 Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing — 
 Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo ! 
 
 The palm and May make country houses gay, 
 Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day, 
 And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay — 
 Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet, 
 Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit. 
 In every street these tunes our ears do greet — 
 Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo ! 
 Spring, the sweet Spring ! 
 
 T. Nashe 
 
 I J. Whilst It Is Prime 
 
 lIj^RESH Spring, the herald of love's mighty king, 
 
 ^ In whose cote-armour richly are displayed 
 
 All sorts of flowers the which on earth do spring 
 
 In goodly colours gloriously arrayed, — 
 
 Go to my love where she is careless laid 
 
 Yet in her Winter's bower not well awake: 
 
 Tell her the joyous time will not be stayed 
 
 Unless she do him by the fore-lock take: 
 
 Bid her therefore herself soon ready make 
 
 To wait on Love amongst his lovely crew: 
 
 Where every one that misseth then her make 
 
 Shall be by him amerced with penance due. 
 
 Make haste therefore, sweet Love, whilst it is prime, 
 
 For none can call again the passed time. 
 
 E. Spenser 
 
 14. Description of the Spring , 
 
 Wherein each thing renews^ save only the Lbver 
 
 " I ^HE soote season, that bud and bloom forth brings, 
 ^ With green hath clad the hill and eke the vale: 
 The nightingale with feathers new she sings; 
 The turtle to her make hath told her tale. 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Summer is come, for every spray now springs: 
 The hart hath hung his old head on the pale; 
 The buck in brake his winter coat he flings; 
 The fishes fiete with new repaired scale. 
 The adder all her slough away she slings; 
 The swift swallow pursueth the flies smale; 
 The busy bee her honey now she mings; 
 Winter is worn that was the flowers' bale. 
 And thus I see among these pleasant things 
 Each care decays, and yet my sorrow springs. 
 
 Earl of Surrey 
 
 IS' Short Sunshine 
 
 TIj^ULL many a glorious morning have I seen 
 ^ Flatter the mountain tops with sovran eye, 
 Kissing with golden face the meadows green. 
 Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; 
 Anon permit the basest clouds to ride 
 With ugly rack on his celestial face, 
 And from the forlorn world his visage hide. 
 Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace. 
 E'en so my sun one early morn did shine 
 With all-triumphant splendour on my brow; 
 But out, alack! he was but one hour mine, 
 The region cloud hath masked him from me now. 
 Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth; 
 Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 13 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 i6. Beauty, Sweet Love, Is Like the 
 Morning Dew 
 
 OEAUTY, sweet Love, is like the morning dew, 
 -'-^ Whose short refresh upon the tender green 
 Cheers for a time, but till the sun doth shew, 
 And straight 'tis gone as it had never been. 
 Soon doth it fade that makes the fairest flourish, 
 Short is the glory of the blushing rose; 
 The hue which thou so carefully dost nourish. 
 Yet which at length thou must be forced to lose. 
 When thou, surcharged with burthen of thy years, 
 Shalt bend thy wrinkles homeward to the earth. 
 And that, in Beauty's Lease expired, appears 
 The Date of Age, the Kalends of our Death — 
 But ah ! no more ! — this must not be foretold, 
 For women grieve to think they must be old. 
 
 S. Daniel 
 
 77. When Daffodils Begin to Peer 
 
 "\ 1 /"HEN daffodils begin to peer, 
 * * With heigh ! the doxy over the dale. 
 
 Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year; 
 For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale. 
 
 The white sheet bleaching on the hedge. 
 
 With heigh ! the sweet birds, O, how they sing ! 
 
 Doth set my pugging tooth on edge; 
 For a quart gf ale is a dish for a king. 
 14 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 The lark that tirra-lirra chants, 
 
 With heigh ! with heigh ! the thrush and the jay, 
 Are summer songs for me and my aunts. 
 
 While we lie tumbling in the hay. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 i8. Fair Is My Love for ApriVs in Her Face 
 
 T^AIR is my love for April's, in her face : 
 
 -*- Her lovely breasts September claims his part, 
 
 And lordly July in her eyes takes place. 
 
 But cold December dwelleth in her heart; 
 Blest be the months that set my thoughts on fire, 
 Accurst that month that hindereth my desire. 
 
 Like Phoebus' fire, so sparkle both her eyes. 
 As air perfumed with amber is her breath. 
 
 Like swelling waves, her lovely breasts do rise. 
 As earth her heart, cold, dateth me to death: 
 
 Aye me, poor man, that on the earth do live. 
 
 When unkind earth, death and despair doth give] 
 
 In pomp sits mercy seated in her face. 
 
 Love twixt her breasts his trophies doth imprint, 
 Her eyes shine favour, courtesy, and grace, 
 
 But touch her heart, ah that is framed of flint ! 
 Therefore my harvest in the grass bears grain; 
 The rock will wear, washed with a winter's rain. 
 
 R. Greene 
 15 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 ig. To Aurora 
 
 f~\ IF thou knew' St how thou thyself dost harm, 
 
 ^-^ And dost prejudge thy bHss, and spoil my rest; 
 
 Then thou would'st melt the ice out of thy breast 
 
 And thy relenting heart would kindly warm. 
 
 O if thy pride did not our joys controul, 
 
 What world of loving wonders should'st thou see; 
 
 For if I saw thee once transformed in me, 
 
 Then in thy bosom would I pour my soul; 
 
 Then all my thoughts should in thy visage shine. 
 
 And if that ought mischanced thou should'st not moan 
 
 Nor bear the burthen of thy griefs alone; 
 
 No, I would have my share in what were thine. 
 
 And whilst we thus should make our sorrows one, 
 
 This happy harmony would make them none. 
 
 W. Alexander^ Earl of Stirling 
 
 20. Aurora 
 
 /^ HAPPY Tithon ! if thou know'st thy hap, 
 ^-^ And valuest thy wealth, as I my want. 
 
 Then need'st thou not — which ah! I grieve to grant- 
 Repine at Jove, lulled in his leman's lap: 
 
 That golden shower in which he did repose — 
 One dewy drop it stains 
 Which thy Aurora rains 
 Upon the rural plains. 
 When from thy bed she passionately goes. 
 
 Then, wakened with the music of the merles. 
 She not remembers Memnon when she mourns: 
 That faithful flame which in her bosom burns 
 
 From crystal conduits throws those liquid pearls: 
 i6 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Sad from thy sight so soon to be removed, 
 
 She so her grief delates. 
 
 — O favoured by the fates 
 
 Above the happiest states, 
 Who art of one so w^orthy well-beloved ! 
 
 W. Alexander^ Earl of Stirling 
 
 '/. To Meadows 
 
 "X/'E have been fresh and green, 
 ^ Ye have been filled veith 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 
 
 Adorn'd this smoother mead. 
 
 Like unthrifts, having spent 
 
 Your stock and needy grown. 
 You're left here to lament 
 Your poor estates, alone, 
 
 R. Herrick 
 17 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 22, The Primrose 
 
 A SK me why I send you here 
 
 This Sweet Infanta of the year ? 
 Ask me why I send to you 
 This Primrose, thus bepearl'd with dew f 
 I will whisper to your ears: 
 The sweets of love are mix'd with tears. 
 
 Ask me why this flower does show 
 So yellow-green, and sickly too ? 
 Ask me why the stalk is weak 
 And bending, [yet it doth not break] ? 
 I will answer: — These discover 
 What doubts and fears are in a lover. 
 
 T. Careiv or R, Herrick 
 
 23, To Violets 
 
 Tl WELCOME, maids of honour, 
 * You do bring 
 In the Spring 
 And wait upon her. 
 
 She has virgins many, 
 
 Fresh and fair; 
 
 Yet you are 
 More sweet than any. 
 
 You're the maiden posieSj, 
 And so graced 
 To be placed 
 Tore damask roses, 
 18 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Yet, though thus respected, 
 
 By-and-by 
 
 Ye do die, 
 Poor girls, neglected. 
 
 R. Herrich 
 
 Perigot and Willie^ s Roundelay 
 
 TT fell upon a holly eve. 
 
 Hey ho, hoUidaye ! 
 When holly fathers wont to shrieve, 
 
 Now gynneth this roundelay. 
 Sitting upon a hill so hye, 
 
 Hey ho, the high hyll ! 
 The while my flocke did feede thereby. 
 
 The while the shepheard selfe did spill: 
 
 I saw the bouncing Bellibone, 
 
 Hey ho, Bonibell ! 
 Tripping over the dale alone: 
 
 She can trippe it very well; 
 Well decked in a frocke of gray, 
 
 Hey ho, gray is greete ! 
 And in a kirtle of greene saye. 
 
 The greene is for maydens meete. 
 
 A chapelet on her head she wore, 
 
 Hey ho, chapelet ! 
 Of sweete violets therein was store, 
 
 — She sweeter then the violet. 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 My sheepe did leave theyr wonted foode, 
 
 Hey ho, seely sheepe ! 
 And gazd on her, as they were wood, 
 
 — Woode as he, that did them keepco 
 
 As the bonnilasse passed bye. 
 
 Hey ho, bonilasse ! 
 She rovde at me with glauncing eye, 
 
 As cleare as the christall glasse: 
 All as the sunnye beame so bright, 
 
 Hey ho, the sunne beame ! 
 Glaunceth from Phoebus face forthright, 
 
 So love into my hart did streame : 
 
 Or as the thonder cleaves the cloudes. 
 
 Hey ho, the thonder ! 
 Wherein the lightsome levin shroudes. 
 
 So cleaves thy soule asonder : 
 Or as Dame Cynthias silver raye 
 
 Hey ho, the moonelight ! 
 Upon the glyttering wave doth playe: 
 
 Such play is a pitteous plight! 
 
 The glaunce into my heart did glide. 
 
 Hey ho, the glyder ! 
 Therewith my soule was sharply gryde 
 
 Such woundes soone wexen wider. 
 Hasting to raunch the arrow out. 
 
 Hey ho, Perigot ! 
 I left the head in my hart roote: 
 
 It was a desperate shot. 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 There it ranckleth ay more and more, 
 
 Hey ho, the arrowe ! 
 Ne can I find salve for my sore: 
 
 Love is a cureless sorrowe. 
 And though my bale with death I brought. 
 
 Hey ho, heavie cheere ! 
 Yet should thilk lasse not from my thought: 
 
 So you may buye gold to deare. 
 
 But whether in paynefull love I pyne, 
 
 Hey ho, pinching payne ! 
 Or thrive in welth, she shalbe mine. 
 
 But if thou can her obteine. 
 And if for gracelesse griefe I dye, 
 
 Hey ho, gracelesse griefe ! 
 Witnesse, shee slewe me with her eye : 
 Let thy follye be the priefe. 
 
 And you that sawe it, simple shepe. 
 
 Hey ho, the fayre flocke ! 
 For priefe thereof my death shall weepe, 
 
 And mone with marry a mocke. 
 So learnd I love on a hollye eve, — 
 
 Hey ho, holidaye ! 
 That ever since my hart did greve: 
 
 Now endeth our roundelay. E. Spenser 
 
 The Blossom 
 
 (~\^ a day — alack the day! — 
 
 ^-^ Love, whose month was ever May, 
 
 Spied a blossom passing fair 
 
 Playing in the wanton air: 
 
 21 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 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, alas, 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 Ethiope were; 
 
 And deny himself for Jove, 
 
 Turning mortal for thy love." W. Shakespeare 
 
 26. To Blossoms 
 
 TIJ^AIR pledges of a fruitful tree, 
 -"- Why do ye fall so fast ? 
 
 Your date is not so past 
 But you may stay yet here awhile 
 
 To blush and gently smile. 
 And go at last. 
 
 What ! were ye born to be 
 An hour or half's delight. 
 And so to bid good night ? 
 *Twas pity Nature brought you forth 
 Merely to show your worth 
 And lose you quite. 
 22 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 But you are lovely leaves, where we 
 May read how soon things have 
 Their end, though ne'er so brave: 
 And after they have shown their pride 
 Like you awhile, they glide 
 Into the grave. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 2y. The Blossom 
 
 T ITTJ^E think'st thou, poor flower, 
 -^^ Whom I have watched six or seven days, 
 And seen thy birth, and seen what every hour 
 Gave to thy growth, thee to this height to raise, 
 And now dost laugh and triumph on this bough, 
 
 — Little think'st thou 
 That it will freeze anon, and that I shall 
 To-morrow find thee fall'n, or not at all. 
 
 Little think'st thou, poor heart. 
 
 That labourest yet to nestle thee. 
 
 And think'st by hovering here to get a part 
 
 In a forbidden or forbidding tree. 
 
 And hop'st her stiffness by long siege to bow, 
 
 — Little think'st thou 
 That thou, to-morrow, ere the sun doth wake, 
 Must with the sun and me a journey take. 
 
 But thou, which lov'st to be 
 
 Subtle to plague thyself, wilt say — 
 
 " Alas ! if you must go, what's that to me ? 
 
 Here lies my business, and here will I stay: 
 
 23 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 You go to friends, whose love and means present 
 
 Various content 
 To your eyes, ears, and taste, and every part: 
 If then your body go, what need your heart ? '* 
 
 Well, then, stay here: but know 
 
 When thou hast said and done thy most, 
 
 A naked thinking heart, that makes no show, 
 
 Is to a woman but a kind of ghost; 
 
 How shall she know my heart ? Or, having none, 
 
 Know thee for one ? 
 Practice may make her know some other part, 
 But take my word, she doth not know a heart. 
 
 Meet me in London, then. 
 
 Twenty days hence, and thou shalt see 
 
 Me fresher and more fat, by being with men, 
 
 Than if I had stay'd still with her and thee. 
 
 For God's sake, if you can, be you so too : 
 
 I will give you 
 There to another friend, whom you shall find 
 As glad to have my body as my mind. 
 
 y. Donne 
 
 28. Corinna's Maying 
 
 /~^ET up, get up for shame! The blooming morn 
 ^^ Upon her wings presents the god unshorn. 
 See how Aurora throws her fair 
 Fresh-quilted colours through the air: 
 Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see 
 The dew-bespangled herb and tree ! 
 24 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Each flower has wept and bow'd toward the east, 
 Above an hour since, yet you not drest; 
 
 Nay ! not so much as out of bed ? 
 
 When all the birds have matins said, 
 
 And sung their thankful hymns, 'tis sin. 
 
 Nay, profanation, to keep in, 
 Whenas a thousand virgins on this day 
 Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch in May. 
 
 Rise, and put on your foliage, and be seen 
 
 To come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and green, 
 
 And sweet as Flora. Take no care 
 
 For jewels for your gown or hair: 
 
 Fear not; the leaves will strew 
 
 Gems in abundance upon you: 
 Besides, the childhood of the day has kept. 
 Against you come, some Orient pearls unwept. 
 
 Come, and receive them while the light 
 
 Hangs on the dew-locks of the night. 
 
 And Titan on the eastern hill 
 
 Retires himself, or else stands still 
 Till you come forth ! Wash, dress, be brief in praying : 
 Few beads are best when once we go a-Maying. 
 
 Come, my Corinna, come; and coming, mark 
 How each field turns a street, each street a park, 
 
 Made green and trimm'd with trees! see how 
 
 Devotion gives each house a bough 
 
 Or branch ! each porch, each door, ere this. 
 
 An ark, a tabernacle is. 
 Made up of white-thorn neatly interwove. 
 As if here were those cooler shades of love. 
 
 25 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Can such delights be in the street 
 
 And open fields, and we not see 't ? 
 
 Come, we'll abroad: and let's obey 
 
 The proclamation made for May, 
 And sin no more, as we have done, by staying. 
 But, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying. 
 
 There's not a budding boy or girl this day 
 But is got up and gone to bring in May. 
 A deal of youth, ere this, is come 
 Back, and with white-thorn laden home. 
 Some have dispatch'd their cakes and cream, 
 Before that we have left to dream: 
 And some have wept and woo'd, and plighted troth, 
 And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth: 
 Many a green-gown has been given. 
 Many a kiss, both odd and even: 
 Many a glance, too, has been sent 
 From out the eye, love's firmament: 
 Many a jest told of the keys betraying 
 This night, and locks pick'd : yet we're not a-Maying 
 
 Come, let us go, while we are in our prime, 
 And take the harmless folly of the time ! 
 
 We shall grow old apace, and die 
 
 Before we know our liberty. 
 
 Our life is short, and our days run 
 
 As fast away as does the sun. 
 And, as a vapour or a drop of rain, 
 Once lost, can ne'er be found again, 
 
 So when or you or I are made 
 
 A fable, song, or fleeting shade, 
 26 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 All love, all liking, all delight 
 Lies drowned with us in endless night. 
 Then, while time serves, and we are but decaying. 
 Come, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 2g. On a Bank as I Sat A -Fishing 
 
 " I ^HIS day Dame Nature seemed in love; 
 -■- The lusty sap began to move; 
 Fresh juice did stir th' embracing vines, 
 And birds had drawn their valentines; 
 The jealous trout that low did lie 
 Rose at the well-dissembled fly; 
 There stood my friend, with patient skill 
 Attending of his trembling quill. 
 Already were the eaves possess'd 
 With the swift pilgrim's daubed nest; 
 The groves already did rejoice 
 In Philomel's triumphing voice; 
 The showers were short, the weather mild. 
 The morning fresh, the evening smiled; 
 Joan takes her neat-rubbed pail, and now 
 She trips to milk the sand-red cow; 
 Where for some sturdy football swain 
 Joan strokes a syllabub or twain; 
 The fields and gardens were beset 
 With tulip, crocus, violet; 
 And now, though late the modest rose 
 Did more than half a blush disclose. 
 Thus all looked gay and full of cheer 
 To welcome the new-liveried year. 
 
 Sir H. Wotton 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 JO. Fhyllida and Cory don 
 
 TN the merry month of May, 
 
 -*■ In a morn by break of day 
 Forth I walk'd by the woodside 
 Whenas May was in his pride; 
 There I spyed all alone, 
 Phyllida and Corydon. 
 Much ado there was, God wot ! 
 He would love and she would not. 
 She said, never man was true; 
 He said, none was false to you. 
 He said, he had loved her long; 
 She said. Love should have no wrong. 
 Corydon would kiss her then; 
 She said, maids must kiss no men 
 Till they did for good and all; 
 Then she made the shepherd call 
 All the heavens to witness truth 
 Never loved a truer youth. 
 Thus with many a pretty oath. 
 Yea and nay, and faith and troth, 
 Such as silly shepherds use 
 When they will not Love abuse, 
 Love, which had been long deluded, 
 Was with kisses sweet concluded; 
 And Phyllida, with garlands gay, 
 Was made the Lady of the May. 
 
 N. Breton 
 
 28 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 J/. Song oj the May 
 
 OISTER, awake! close not your eyes! 
 ^^ The day her Hght discloses, 
 And the bright morning doth arise 
 Out of her bed of roses. 
 
 See the clear sun, the world's bright eye, 
 
 In at our window peeping. 
 Lo, how he blusheth to espy 
 
 Us idle wenches sleeping ! 
 
 Therefore awake! make haste, I say, 
 
 And let us, without staying. 
 All in our gowns of green so gay 
 
 Into the Park a-Maying! 
 
 Anon. 
 
 J2. My Fair A-Field 
 
 OEE where my Love a-Maying goes 
 *^ With sweet dame Flora sporting! 
 She most alone with nightingales 
 In woods delights consorting. 
 
 Turn again, my dearest ! 
 
 The pleasant' st air's in meadows ; 
 Else by the rivers let us breathe, 
 And kiss amongst the willows. 
 
 Anon. 
 29 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 33. The Merry Month of May 
 
 TS not thilke the merry month of May, 
 ■*' When love-lads masken in fresh array ? 
 How falls it, then, we no merrier been, 
 Ylike as others, girt in gaudy green ? 
 Our blanket liveries been all too sad 
 For thilke same season, when all is yclad 
 With pleasaunce; the ground with grass, the woods 
 With green leaves, the bushes with blossoming buds. 
 Young folk now flocken in everywhere 
 To gather May buskets and smelling brere; 
 And home they hasten the postes to dight. 
 And all the kirk-pillars ere day-light. 
 With hawthorne buds and sweet eglantine, 
 And garlands of roses and sops-in-wine. 
 
 E. Spenser 
 
 34. May-Song 
 
 /^ THE month of May, the merry month of May, 
 ^-^' So frolic, so gay, and so green, so green, so green ! 
 O, and then did I unto my true love say. 
 
 Sweet Peg, thou shalt be my Summer's Queen. 
 
 Now the nightingale, the pretty nightingale. 
 The sweetest singer in all the forest choir. 
 
 Entreats thee, sweet Peggy, to hear thy true love's tale: 
 Lo, yonder she sitteth, her breast against a brier. 
 30 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 But O, I spy the cuckoo, the cuckoo, the cuckoo! 
 
 See where she sitteth; come away, my joy: 
 Come away, I prithee, I do not hke the cuckoo 
 
 Should sing where my Peggy and I kiss and toy. 
 
 O, the month of May, the merry month of May, 
 So frohc, so gay, and so green, so green, so green i 
 
 O, and then did I unto my true love say. 
 
 Sweet Peg, thou shalt be my Summer's Queen, 
 
 r. Dekkei 
 
 j^. Lovers Emblems 
 
 "\TOW the lusty spring is seen; 
 -^ ^ Golden yellow, gaudy blue, 
 
 Daintily invite the view: 
 Everywhere on every green 
 Roses blushing as they blow. 
 
 And enticing men to pull. 
 Lilies whiter than the snow. 
 
 Woodbines of sweet honey full: 
 All love's emblems, and all cry, 
 *' Ladies, if not plucked, we die.'^ 
 
 Yet the lusty spring hath stay'd; 
 
 Blushing red and purest white 
 
 Daintily to love invite 
 Every woman, every maid : 
 
 31 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Cherries kissing as they grow, 
 
 And inviting men to taste, 
 Apples even ripe below, 
 
 Winding gently to the waist: 
 All love's emblems, and all cry, 
 ** Ladies, if not plucked, we die." 
 
 7. Fletcher 
 
 36, A Round 
 
 IVJOW that the Spring hath filled our veins 
 ''■ ^ With kind and active fire. 
 And made green liv'ries for the plains. 
 And every grove a choir: 
 
 Sing we a song of merry glee. 
 
 And Bacchus fill the bowl: 
 I. Then here's to thee; 2. And thou to me 
 
 And every thirsty soul. 
 
 Nor Care, nor Sorrow e'er paid debt, 
 
 Nor never shall do mine; 
 I have no cradle going yet. 
 
 Not I, by this good wine. 
 
 No wife at home to send for me 
 No hogs are in my ground. 
 
 No suit in law to pay a fee, 
 
 — Then round, old Jockey, round ! 
 32 
 
 I 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 All 
 
 Shear sheep that have them, cry we still, 
 But see that no man 'scape 
 To drink of the sherry, 
 That makes us so merry. 
 And plump as the lusty grape. 
 
 W. Browne 
 
 jy, Ralph, the May-Lord 
 
 T ONDON, to thee I do present 
 •*-— ' The merry month of May; 
 Let each true subject be content 
 
 To hear me what I say : 
 For from the top of conduit-head, 
 
 As plainly may appear, 
 I will both tell my name to you, 
 
 And wherefore I came here. 
 My name is Ralph, by due descent, 
 
 Though not ignoble I, 
 Yet far inferior to the flock 
 
 Of gracious grocery; 
 And by the common counsel of 
 
 My fellows in the Strand, 
 With gilded staff and crossed scarf, 
 
 The May-lord here I stand. 
 Rejoice, oh, English hearts, rejoice! 
 
 Rejoice, oh, lovers dear ! 
 Rejoice, oh, city, town, and country. 
 
 Rejoice eke every shire ! 
 
 33 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 For now the fragrant flowers do spring 
 
 And sprout in seemly sort, 
 The Httle birds do sit and sing, 
 
 The lambs do make fine sport; 
 And now the birchen-tree doth bud. 
 
 That makes the schoolboy cry; 
 The morris rings, while hobby-horse 
 
 Doth foot it feateously; 
 The lords and ladies now abroad, 
 
 For their disport and play, 
 Do kiss sometimes upon the grass, 
 
 And sometimes in the hay. 
 Now butter with a leaf of sage 
 
 Is good to purge the blood; 
 Fly Venus and phlebotomy, 
 
 For they are neither good ! 
 Now little fish on tender stone 
 
 Begin to cast their bellies. 
 And sluggish snails, that erst were mewedc 
 
 Do creep out of their shellies; 
 The rumbling rivers now do warm, 
 
 For little boys to paddle; 
 The sturdy steed now goes to grass, 
 
 And up they hang the saddle; 
 The heavy hart, the bellowing buck. 
 
 The rascal, and the pricket. 
 Are now among the yeoman's pease, 
 
 And leave the fearful thicket; 
 And be like them, oh, you, I say. 
 
 Of this same noble town. 
 And lift aloft your velvet heads, 
 
 And slipping off your gown, 
 34 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 With bells on legs, and napkins clean 
 
 Unto your shoulders tied, 
 With scarfs and garters as you please, 
 
 And " Hey for our town ! " cried, 
 March out and show your willing minds, 
 
 By twenty and by twenty, 
 To Hogsdon, or to Newington, 
 
 Where ale and cakes are plenty; 
 And let it ne'er be said for shame. 
 
 That we the youths of London 
 Lay thrumming of our caps at home, 
 
 And left our custom undone. 
 Up then, I say, both young and old. 
 
 Both man and maid a-maying. 
 With drums and guns that bounce aloud. 
 
 And merry tabour playing ! 
 Which to prolong, God save our king. 
 
 And send his country peace. 
 And rout out treason from the land ! 
 
 And so, my friends, I cease. 
 
 F. Beaumont 
 
 38, An Ode 
 
 IVJOW each creature joys the other, 
 ■^ Passing happy days and hours; 
 One bird reports unto another 
 
 In the fall of silver showers; 
 Whilst the Earth, our common mother. 
 
 Hath her bosom decked with flowers. 
 
 35 
 
 #4 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Whilst the greatest torch of heaven 
 With bright rays warms Flora's lap, 
 
 Making nights and days both even, 
 Cheering plants with fresher sap; 
 
 My field of flowers quite bereaven. 
 Wants refresh of better hap. 
 
 Echo, daughter of the air. 
 
 Babbling guests of rocks and hills, 
 
 Knows the name of my fierce fair. 
 And sounds the accents of my ills. 
 
 Each thing pities my despair, 
 Whilst that she her lover kills. 
 
 Whilst that she — O cruel maid ! — 
 Doth me and my true love despise, 
 
 My life's flourish is decayed. 
 That depended on her eyes : 
 
 But her will must be obeyed, — 
 
 And well he ends, for love who dies. 
 
 S. Daniel 
 
 Sg, Under the Greenwood Tree 
 
 Amiens sings: 
 
 T TNDER the greenwood tree. 
 Who loves to lie with me. 
 And turn his merry note 
 Unto the sweet bird's throat, 
 Come hither, come hither, come hither: 
 Here shall he see 
 No enemy 
 But winter and rough weather. 
 36 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Who doth ambition shun, 
 And loves to Hve i' the sun, 
 Seeking the food he eats. 
 And pleased with what he gets. 
 Come hither, come hither, come hither; 
 Here shall he see 
 No enemy 
 But winter and rough weather. 
 
 Jaques replies: 
 
 If it do come to pass 
 That any man turn ass. 
 Leaving his wealth and ease 
 A stubborn will to please, ^ 
 Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame: 
 Here shall he see 
 Gross fools as he. 
 An if he will come to me. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 40. Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May 
 
 /'"^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. 
 
 37 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 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 for ever tarry. 
 
 R, Herrick 
 
 41, Philomela 
 
 A S it fell upon a day 
 -^^^ In the merry month of May, 
 Sitting in a pleasant shade 
 Which a grove of myrtles made, 
 Beasts did leap and birds did sing, 
 Trees did grow and plants did spring; 
 Everything did banish moan 
 Save the Nightingale alone: 
 She, poor bird as all forlorn 
 Leaned her breast up-till a thorn, 
 And there sung the dolefull'st ditty, 
 That to hear it was great pity. 
 Fie^ fie, fie I now would she cry; 
 TereUj Tereul by and by; 
 That to hear her so complain 
 Scarce I could from tears refrain; 
 For her griefs so lively shown 
 Made me think upon mine own. 
 
 < 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Ah! thought I, thou mourn'st in vain. 
 
 None takes pity on thy pain: 
 
 Senseless trees they cannot hear thee, 
 
 Ruthless beasts they will not cheer thee: 
 
 King Pandion he is dead, 
 
 All thy friends are lapp'd in lead; 
 
 All thy fellow birds do sing 
 
 Careless of thy sorrowing: 
 
 Even so, poor bird, like thee, 
 
 None alive will pity me. 
 
 R. Barnfield 
 
 42, A Nosegay 
 
 SAY, crimson Rose and dainty Daffodil, 
 With Violet blue; 
 Since you have seen the beauty of my saint. 
 
 And eke her view; 
 Did not her sight (fair sight !) you lonely fill, 
 
 With sweet delight 
 Of goddess' grace and angels' sacred teint 
 In fine, most bright ? 
 
 Say, golden Primrose, sanguine Cowslip fair. 
 
 With Pink most fine; 
 Since you beheld the visage of my dear. 
 
 And eyes divine; 
 Did not her globy front, and glistening hair, 
 
 With cheeks most sweet. 
 So gloriously hke damask flowers appear. 
 
 The gods to greet ? 
 
 39 
 
I 
 
 THE BOOK OF 
 
 Say, snow-white Lily, speckled Gilly-flower, 
 
 With Daisy gay; 
 Since you have viewed the Queen of my desire, 
 
 In her array; 
 Did not her ivory paps, fair Venus' bower, 
 
 With heavenly glee, 
 A Juno's grace, conjure you to require 
 
 Her face to see ? 
 
 Say Rose, say Daffodil, and Violet blue, 
 
 With Primrose fair. 
 Since ye have seen my nymph's sweet dainty face. 
 
 And gesture rare. 
 Did not (bright Cowslip, blooming Pink) her view 
 
 (White Lily) shine — 
 (Ah, Gilly-flower, ah Daisy !) with a grace 
 
 Like stars divine ? 
 
 y. Reynolds 
 
 4J. The Shepherd'' s Holy day 
 
 1 Nymph. nPHUS, thus begin the yearly rites 
 
 ^ Are due to Pan on these bright nights; 
 His morn now riseth and invites 
 To sports, to dances, and delights: 
 All envious and profane, away. 
 This is the shepherd's holyday. 
 
 2 Nymph. Strew, strew the glad and smiling ground 
 
 With every flower, yet not confound; 
 
 40 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 The primrose drop, the spring's own spouse, 
 Bright day's-eyes and the Hps of cows; 
 The garden-star, the queen of May, 
 The rose, to crown the holyday. 
 
 3 Nymph. Drop, drop, you violets; change your hues, 
 Now red, now pale, as lovers use; 
 And in your death go out as well 
 As when you lived unto the smell: 
 
 That from your odour all may say, 
 This is the shepherd's holyday. 
 
 B. Jonson 
 
 44. To Phyllis J the Fair Shepherdess 
 
 1\ /TY Phyllis hath the morning sun, 
 ^^ ^ At first to look upon her; 
 And Phyllis hath morn-waking birds 
 
 Her risings for to honour. 
 My Phyllis hath prime-feathered flowers 
 
 That smile when she treads on them; 
 
 And Phyllis hath a gallant flock 
 
 That leaps since she doth own them. 
 But Phyllis hath so hard a heart, 
 
 Alas that she should have it. 
 As yields no mercy to desart. 
 
 Nor grace to those that crave it. 
 Sweet sun, when thou look'st on. 
 Pray her regard my moan; 
 Sweet birds, when you sing to her. 
 To yield some pity, woo her; 
 
 41 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Sweet flowers whenas she treads on, 
 
 Tell her, her beauty deads one, 
 And if in life her love she nill agree me. 
 Pray her before I die she will come see me. 
 
 T. Lodge 
 
 4S. The Beggars' Holiday 
 
 /'"^AST our caps and cares away: 
 ^^ This is beggars' holiday ! 
 At the crowning of our king. 
 Thus we ever dance and sing. 
 In the world look out and see, 
 Where so happy a prince as he ? 
 Where the nation live so free, 
 And so merry as do we ? 
 Be it peace, or be it war. 
 Here at liberty we are. 
 And enjoy our ease and rest: 
 To the field we are not pressed; 
 Nor are called into the town. 
 To be troubled with the gown. 
 Hang all officers, we cry. 
 And the magistrate too, by! 
 When the subsidy's increased, 
 We are not a penny sessed; 
 Nor will any go to law 
 With the beggar for a straw. 
 All which happiness, he brags. 
 He doth owe unto his rags. 
 
 J. Fletcher 
 42 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 /J.6, Young Love 
 
 \ 'THELL me where is Fancy bred, 
 
 -*- Or 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. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 ^7. God LycEUs^ Ever Young 
 
 /^^OD Lyaeus, ever young, 
 ^-^ Ever honour'd, ever sung, 
 Stain'd with blood of lusty grapes. 
 In a thousand lusty shapes 
 Dance upon the mazer's brim, 
 In the crimson liquor swim ; 
 From thy plenteous hand divine 
 Let a river run with wine: 
 
 God of youth, let this day here 
 Enter neither care nor fear. 
 
 J. Fletche 
 43 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 48. What Is Love? 
 
 nPELL me, dearest, what is love ? 
 -*- 'Tis a lightning from above; 
 'Tis an arrow, 'tis a fire, 
 *Tis a boy they call Desire. 
 
 'Tis a grave. 
 
 Gapes to have 
 Those poor fools that long to prove. 
 
 Tell me more, are women true ? 
 Yes, some are, and some as you. 
 Some are willing, some are strange, 
 Since you men first taught to change. 
 
 And till troth 
 
 Be in both, 
 All shall love, to love anew. 
 
 Tell me more yet, can they grieve ? 
 Yes, and sicken sore, but live. 
 And be wise, and delay, 
 When you men are wise as they. 
 
 Then I see. 
 
 Faith will be. 
 Never till they both believe. 
 
 J. Fletcher 
 
 4p. Advice to a Girl 
 
 IVTEVER love unless you can 
 ^ ^ Bear with all the faults of man 1 
 Men sometimes will jealous be. 
 Though but little cause they see, 
 44 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 And hang the head as discontent, 
 
 And speak what straight they will repent. 
 
 Men that but one Saint adore 
 Make a show of love to more; 
 Beauty must be scorned in none, 
 Though but truly served in one: 
 For what is courtship but disguise ? 
 True hearts may have dissembling eyes. 
 
 Men, when their affairs require. 
 Must awhile themselves retire; 
 Sometimes hunt, and sometimes hawk, 
 And not ever sit and talk : — 
 If these and such-like you can bear. 
 Then like, and love, and never fear! 
 
 jT. Campion 
 
 SO. Madrigal 
 
 "VT'E bubbling springs that gentle music makes 
 
 -*- To lovers' plaints with heart-sore throbs immixed, 
 Whenas my dear this way her pleasure takes, 
 
 Tell her with tears how firm my love is fixed; 
 And, Philomel, report my timourous fears, 
 And, Echo, sound my heigh-ho's in her ears : 
 But if she ask if I for love will die, 
 Tell her, *' Good faith, good faith, good faith^ — not I ! ' 
 
 Anon. 
 45 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 5/. Cherry-Ripe 
 
 " I ^HERE is a garden in her face 
 ^ Where roses and white lihes blow; 
 A heavenly paradise is that place 
 Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow. 
 
 There cherries grow that 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 like rose-buds filled with snow; 
 Yet them nor peer nor prince may 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. 
 
 T. Campion 
 
 52. The Passionate Shepherd to His Love 
 
 f^OyiE live with me and be my Love, 
 ^^ And we will all the pleasures prove 
 That hills and valleys, dales and fields, 
 Or woods or steepy mountain yields. 
 46 
 
 I 
 
• ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 And we will sit upon the rocks, 
 And see 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. 
 
 A gown made of the finest wool 
 Which from our pretty lambs we pull; 
 Fair-lined 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 delights thy mind may move. 
 Then live with me and be my Love. 
 
 C. Marlowe 
 
 SJ. The Nymph's Reply 
 
 TF all the world and love were young, 
 "*- And truth in every shepherd's tongue, 
 These pretty pleasures might me move 
 To live with thee and be thy Love. 
 
 47 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 But Time drives flocks from field to fold; 
 When rivers rage and rocks grow cold; 
 And Philomel becometh dumb, 
 The rest complains of cares to come. 
 
 The flowers do fade, and wanton fieldr 
 To wayward Winter reckoning yields: 
 A honey tongue, a heart of gall, 
 Is fancy's spring but sorrow's fall. 
 
 Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, 
 Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies. 
 Soon break, soon wither — soon forgotten, 
 In folly ripe, in reason rotten. 
 
 Thy belt of straw and ivy-buds. 
 Thy coral clasps and amber studs, — 
 All these in me no means can move 
 To come to thee and be thy Love. 
 
 But could youth last, and love still breed, 
 Had joys no date, nor age no need, 
 Then those delights my mind might move 
 To live with thee and be thy Love. 
 
 Sir W. Raleigh 
 
 S4' The Message 
 
 'VTE little birds that sit and sing 
 
 Amidst the shady valleys. 
 And see how Phyllis sweetly walks 
 Within her garden-alleys; 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 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 billsj 
 
 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. 
 
 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. 
 
 O 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, 'tis her lover true 
 That sendeth love to you, to you; 
 And when you hear her kind reply, 
 Return with pleasant warblings, 
 
 T . Heywooa 
 49 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 55, Corydon's Song 
 
 A BLITHE and bonny country lass, 
 -*- ^ Heigh ho, the bonny lass ! 
 Sat sighing on the tender grass, 
 
 And weeping said, " Will none come woo me r 
 A smicker boy, a lither swain, 
 
 Heigh ho, a smicker swain ! 
 That in his love was wanton fain. 
 
 With smiling looks straight came unto her. 
 
 When as the wanton wench espied. 
 
 Heigh ho, when she espied ! 
 The means to make herself a bride, 
 
 She simpered smooth like bonnybell: 
 The swain that saw her squint-eyed kind, 
 
 Heigh ho, squint-eyed kind ! 
 His arms about her body twined, 
 
 And " Fair lass, how fare ye, well ?" 
 
 The country kit said, " Well forsooth, 
 
 Heigh ho, well forsooth ! 
 But that I have a longing tooth, 
 
 A longing tooth that makes me cry.** 
 "Alas!" said he, "what gars thy grief.? 
 
 Heigh ho, what gars thy grief?" 
 " A wound," quoth she, " without relief : 
 
 I fear a maid that I shall die." 
 
 " If that be all," the shepherd said, 
 
 " Heigh ho," the shepherd said, 
 50 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 " I'll make thee wive it, gentle maid. 
 And so recure thy malady." 
 
 Hereon they kissed with many an oath, 
 
 Heigh ho, with many an oath, 
 And 'fore God Pan did plight their troth. 
 
 And to the church they hied them fast. 
 
 And God send every pretty peat. 
 
 Heigh ho, the pretty peat! 
 That fears to die of this conceit. 
 
 So kind a friend to help at last. 
 
 T, Lodge 
 
 ^6. A Ditty 
 
 A yTY true-love hath my heart, and I have his, 
 ^'-"^ By just exchange one for another given: 
 I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss. 
 There never was a better bargain driven : 
 My true-love hath my heart, and I have his. 
 
 His heart in me keeps him and me in one. 
 My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides: 
 He loves my heart, for once it was his own, 
 I cherish his because in me it bides: 
 
 My true-love hath my heart, and I have his. 
 
 Sir P. Sidney 
 51 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 57. Wooing Stuff 
 
 TJ^AINT Amorist, what! dost thou think 
 
 ■*- To taste love's honey, and not drink 
 
 One dram of gall ? or to devour 
 
 A world of sweet and taste no sour ? 
 
 Dost thou ever think to enter 
 
 The Elysian fields, that dar'st not venture 
 
 In Charon's barge ? a lover's mind 
 
 Must use to sail with every wind. 
 
 He that loves, and fears to try, 
 
 Learns his mistress to deny. 
 
 Doth she chide thee ? 'tis to shew it 
 
 That thy coldness makes her do it. 
 
 Is she silent ? is she mute ? 
 
 Silence fully grants thy suit. 
 
 Doth she pout, and leave the room ? 
 
 Then she goes to bid thee come. 
 
 Is she sick ? Why then be sure 
 
 She invites thee to the cure. 
 
 Doth she cross thy suit with No ? 
 
 Tush, she loves to hear thee woo. 
 
 Doth she call the faith of man 
 
 In question ^ Nay, she loves thee than; 
 
 And if ere she makes a blot, 
 
 She's lost if that thou hit'st her not. 
 
 He that after ten denials 
 
 Dares attempt no further trials. 
 
 Hath no warrant to acquire 
 
 The dainties of his chaste desire. 
 
 Sir P. Sidney 
 
 52 
 
 I 
 
 4 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 5<5*. The Lover's Theme 
 
 PAIN to content, I bend myself to write, 
 ^ But what to write my mind can scarce conceive: 
 Your radiant eyes crave objects of delight 
 My heart no glad impressions can receive: 
 To write of grief is but a tedious thing. 
 And woeful men of woe must needly sing. 
 
 To write the truce, the wars, the strife, the peace. 
 That Love once wrought in my distempered heart. 
 Were but to cause my wonted woes increase, 
 And yield new life to my concealed smart : 
 
 Who tempts the ear with tedious lines of grief, 
 That waits for joy, complains without relief. 
 
 To write what pains supplanteth others' joy, 
 Therefore is folly in the greatest wit: 
 Who feels may best decipher the annoy: 
 Who knows the grief but he that tasteth it ? 
 Who writes of woe must needs be woe-begone, 
 And writing feel, and feeling write of moan. 
 
 To write the temper of my last desire. 
 That likes me best, and appertains you most: 
 You are the Pharos whereto now retire 
 My thoughts, long wand'ring in a foreign coast: 
 In you they live, to other joys they die. 
 And, living, draw their food from your fair eye. 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Enforced by Love, and that effectual fire 
 
 Tfiat springs from you to quicken loyal hearts, 
 
 I write in part the prime of my desire, 
 
 My faith, my fear, that springs from your desarts: 
 
 My faith, whose firmness never shunneth trial; 
 
 My fear, the dread and danger of denial. 
 
 To write in brief a legend in a line, 
 
 My heart hath vowed to draw his life from yours; 
 
 My looks have made a sun of your sweet eyne. 
 
 My soul doth draw his essence from your powers: 
 And what I am, in fortune or in love. 
 All those have sworn to serve for your behove. 
 
 My senses seek their comforts from your sweet; 
 
 My inward mind your outward fair admires; 
 
 My hope lies prostrate at your pity's feet; 
 
 My heart, looks, soul, sense, mind, and hope desires 
 Belief and favour in your lovely sight: 
 Else all will cease to live and pen to write. 
 
 T. Lodpe 
 
 Sg. Olden Love-Making 
 
 TN time of yore when shepherds dwelt 
 ^ Upon the mountain rocks. 
 And simple people never felt 
 The pain of lover's mocks; 
 But little birds would carry tales 
 'Twixt Susan and her sweeting, 
 And all the dainty nightingales 
 54 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Did sing at lovers' meeting: 
 Then might you see what looks did pass 
 
 Where shepherds did assemble, 
 And where the life of true love was 
 
 When hearts could not dissemble. 
 
 Then yea and nay was thought an oath 
 
 That was not to be doubted, 
 And when it came to jaith and troth 
 
 We were not to be flouted. 
 Then did they talk of curds and cream, 
 
 Of butter, cheese and milk; 
 There was no speech of sunny beam 
 
 Nor of the golden silk. 
 Then for a gift a row of pins, 
 
 A purse, a pair of knives. 
 Was all the way that love begins; 
 
 And so the shepherd wives. 
 
 But now we have so much ado, 
 
 And are so sore aggrieved. 
 That when we go about to woo 
 
 We cannot be beheved; 
 Such choice of jewels, rings and chains, 
 
 That may but favour move, 
 And such intolerable pains 
 
 Ere one can hit on love; 
 That if I still shall bide this life 
 
 'Twixt love and deadly hate, 
 I will go learn the country life 
 
 Or leave the lover's state. 
 
 1>^. Breton 
 55 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 60. True Love 
 
 'T^URN all thy thoughts to eyes, 
 ^ Turn all thy hairs to ears, 
 Change all thy friends to spies 
 And all thy joys to fears: 
 
 True love will yet be free 
 In spite of jealousy. 
 
 Turn darkness into day, 
 Conjectures into truth, 
 Believe what th' envious say, 
 Let age interpret youth : 
 
 True love will yet be free 
 In spite of jealousy. 
 
 Wrest every word and look, 
 Rack every hidden thought. 
 Or fish with golden hook; 
 True love cannot be caught: 
 For that will still be free 
 In spite of jealousy. 
 
 T . Campion 
 
 61. The Complete Lover 
 
 TIj^OR her gait, if she be walking; 
 ^ Be she sitting, I desire her 
 For her state's sake; and admire her 
 For her wit if she be talking; 
 
 Gait and state and wit approve her; 
 
 For which all and each I love her. 
 56 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Be she sullen, I commend her 
 
 For a modest. Be she merry, ? ^ 
 
 For a kind one her prefer I. 
 
 Briefly, everything doth lend her 
 
 So much grace, and so approve her, 
 That for everything I love her. 
 
 W. Browne 
 
 62. His Supposed Mistress 
 
 TF I freely can discover 
 
 -^ What would please me in my lover, 
 
 I would have her fair and witty. 
 
 Savouring more of court than city; 
 
 A little proud, but full of pity; 
 
 Light and humourous in her toying; 
 
 Oft building hopes, and soon destroying; 
 
 Long, but sweet in the enjoying. 
 Neither too easy, nor too hard : 
 All extremes I would have barred. 
 
 She should be allowed her passions. 
 
 So they were but used as fashions; 
 
 Sometimes froward, and then frowning. 
 Sometimes sickish, and then swowning. 
 Every fit with change still crowning. 
 Purely jealous I would have her; 
 Then only constant when I crave her, 
 'Tis a virtue should not save her. 
 
 Thus, nor her delicates would cloy me. 
 
 Neither her peevishness annoy me. 
 
 B. Jonson 
 57 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 d>j. A Lover^s Question 
 
 A /["AID, will ye love me, yea or no ? 
 ^^ ^ Tell me the truth, and let me go. 
 It can be no less than a sinful deed, 
 
 Trust me truly, 
 To linger a lover that looks to speed 
 In due time duly. 
 
 You maids, that think yourselves as fine 
 
 As Venus and all the Muses nine. 
 
 The Father himself, when He first made Man, 
 
 Trust me truly. 
 Made you for his help, when the world began, 
 
 In due time duly. 
 
 Then sith God's will was even so. 
 Why should you disdain your lover tho ? 
 But rather with a willing heart 
 
 Love him truly : 
 For in so doing you do but your part; 
 
 Let reason rule ye. 
 
 Consider, Sweet, what sighs and sobs 
 Do nip my heart with cruel throbs. 
 And all, my Dear, for love of you. 
 
 Trust me truly; 
 But I hope that you will some mercy show 
 
 In due time duly. 
 
 ■Anon^ 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 64, Rosalind's Madrigal 
 
 T OVE in my bosom, like a bee, 
 ^ — ' Doth suck his sweet: 
 Now with his wings he plays with me. 
 Now with his feet. 
 Within mine eyes he makes his nest, 
 His bed amidst my tender breast; 
 My kisses are his daily feast, 
 And yet he robs me of my rest: 
 
 Ah! wanton, will ye? 
 
 And if I sleep, then percheth he 
 
 With pretty flight, 
 
 And makes his pillow of my knee 
 
 The livelong night. 
 
 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'll shut mine eyes to keep you in; 
 
 I'll make you fast it for your sin; 
 
 I'll count your power not worth a pin. 
 
 — Alas! what hereby shall I win 
 
 If he gainsay me ? 
 
 59 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 What if I beat the wanton boy 
 
 With many a rod ? 
 He will repay me with annoy, 
 Because a god. 
 Then sit thou safely on my knee; 
 And let thy bov/er my bosom be; 
 Lurk in mine eyes, I like of thee; 
 O Cupid, so thou pity me. 
 Spare not, but play thee! 
 
 T. Lodge 
 
 65, What Wight He Loved 
 
 CHALL I tell you whom I love? 
 *^ Harken then awhile to me; 
 And if such a woman move. 
 
 As I now shall versify. 
 Be assured, 'tis she or none 
 That I love, and love alone. 
 
 Nature did her so much right 
 As she scorns the help of art; 
 
 In as many virtues dight 
 
 As e'er yet embraced a heart: 
 
 So much good so truly tried. 
 
 Some for less were deified. 
 
 Wit she hath without desire 
 • • To make known how much she hath ; 
 
 t And her anger flames no higher 
 
 Than may fitly sweeten wrath. 
 Full of pity as may be, 
 Though, perhaps, not so to me. 
 60 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Reason masters every sense, 
 
 And her virtues grace her birth. 
 
 Lovely as all excellence, 
 
 Modest in her most of mirth 
 
 Likelihood enough to prove 
 
 Only worth could kindle love. 
 
 Such she is : and, if you know 
 
 Such a one as I have sung, 
 Be she brown, or fair, or so 
 
 That she be but somewhile young, 
 Be assured, 'tis she, or none 
 That I love, and love alone. 
 
 W. Browne 
 
 66. It Was a Lover and His Lass 
 
 TT was a lover and his lass, 
 
 With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino. 
 That o'er the green corn-field 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. 
 When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding; 
 Sweet lovers love the spring. 
 
 6i 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 This carol they began that hour, 
 
 With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino. 
 
 How that a Hfe was but a flower 
 
 In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, 
 
 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. 
 
 W. Shakespean 
 
 dy, A Roundelay 
 
 Between Two Shepherds 
 
 ' I ^ELL me, thou skilful shepherd swain, 
 ^ Who's yonder in the valley set } 
 O, it IS she, whose sweets do stain 
 The Itly^ rose, the violet! 
 
 Why doth the sun against his kind 
 Stay his bright chariot in the skies ? 
 
 He pauseth, almost stricken blind 
 With gazing on her heavenly eyes. 
 
 Why do thy flocks forbear their food, 
 Which sometime was their chief delight ? 
 
 Because they need no other good 
 That live in presence of her sight. 
 
 62 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 How come these flowers to flourish still, 
 Not with'ring with sharp Winter's breath ? 
 
 She hath robb'd Nature of her skill, 
 
 And comforts all things with her breath. 
 
 Why slide these brooks so slow away, 
 As swift as the wild roe that were ? 
 
 0, muse noty shepherd, that they stay. 
 When they her heavenly voice do hear. 
 
 From whence come all these goodly swains, 
 
 And lovely girls attired in green ? 
 From gathering garlands on the plains 
 
 To crown our fair the Shepherds' Queen. 
 
 The sun that lights this world below. 
 
 Flocks, flowers, and brooks will witness bear; 
 
 These nymphs and shepherds all do know 
 That it IS she is only fair. 
 
 M. Drayton 
 
 Hey^ Down a Down 
 
 ** J TR T^ down a down!'' did Dian sing 
 Amongst her virgins sitting; 
 *' Than love there is no vainer thing. 
 
 For maidens most unfitting." 
 And so think I, with a down, down, derry. 
 
 When women knew no woe. 
 
 But lived themselves to please, 
 Men's feigning guiles they did not know, — 
 
 The ground of their disease. 
 
 63 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Unborn was false suspect; 
 
 No thought of jealousy; 
 From wanton toys and fond effect. 
 
 The virgin's life was free. 
 
 " Hejy down a down ! " 
 
 At length men used charms 
 
 To which what maids gave ear, 
 Embracing gladly endless harms 
 
 Anon enthralled were. 
 Thus women welcomed woe 
 
 Disguised in name of love, 
 A jealous hell, a painted show: 
 
 So shall they find that prove. 
 
 ^^ Hey, down a down!*' did Dtan singy 
 
 Amongst her virgins sitting; 
 " Than love there is no vainer thing. 
 
 For maidens most unfitting.'' 
 And so think /, with a down, down, derryf 
 
 Anon, 
 
 6p. Carpe Diem 
 
 /^ MISTRESS mine, where are you roaming ? 
 ^-^ O, stay and hear! your true-love's coming, 
 
 That can sing both high and low: 
 Trip no further, pretty sweeting; 
 Journeys end in lovers meeting. 
 
 Every wise man's son doth know. 
 64 
 
w 
 
 ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 What is love ? 'tis not hereafter ; 
 Present mirth hath present laughter; 
 
 What's to come is till unsure : 
 In delay there lies no plenty; 
 Then come kiss me, sweet-and-twenty ! 
 
 Youth's a stuflp will not endure. 
 
 IV. Shakespeare 
 
 70. Madrigal 
 
 "DROWN is my love but graceful; 
 ^-^ And each renowned whiteness, 
 Matched with thy lovely brown, loseth its brightness. 
 
 Fair is my love, but scornful; 
 
 Yet have I seen despised 
 
 Dainty white lilies, and sad flowers well prized. ^ 
 
 ■^ ' t^ Anon, 
 
 7/. Know, Celia, Since Thou Art So Proud 
 
 T^^NOW, Celia, since thou art so proud, 
 'Twas I that gave thee thy renown. 
 Thou hadst in the forgotten crowd 
 
 Of common beauties lived unknown, 
 Had not my verse extolled thy name. 
 And with it imp'd the wings of Fame. 
 
 That killing 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; 
 
 65 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Then dart not from thy borrow'd 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 form adore, 
 
 I know thee in thy mortal state. 
 Wise poets, that wrapt Truth in tales. 
 Knew her themselves through all her veils. 
 
 T . Careu 
 
 /2. The Kiss 
 
 THAT joy so soon should waste! 
 Or so sweet a bliss 
 As a kiss 
 Might not for ever last! 
 So sugared, so melting, so soft, so delicious. 
 The dew that lies on roses, 
 When the morn herself discloses. 
 Is not so precious. 
 O, rather than it would I smother, 
 Were I to taste such another; 
 It should be my wishing 
 That I might die kissing. 
 
 O 
 
 B. Jonson 
 
 yj. Gratiana Dancing 
 
 OHE beat the happy pavement — 
 "^ By such a star made firmament. 
 Which now no more the roof envies! 
 But swells up high, with Atlas even. 
 Bearing the brighter nobler heaven, 
 And, in her, all the deities. 
 66 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Each step trod out a Lover's thought, 
 And the ambitious hopes he brought 
 
 Chained to her brave feet with such arts, 
 Such sweet command and gentle awe. 
 As, when she ceased, we sighing saw 
 The floor lay paved with broken hearts. 
 
 R. Lovelace 
 
 7^. In Praise of Two 
 
 T^AUSTINA hath the fairer face, 
 -■- And Phyllida the feater grace; 
 
 Both have mine eyes enriched : 
 This sings full sweetly with her voice; 
 Her fingers make as sweet a noise: 
 
 Both have mine ears bewitched. 
 Ah me! sith Fates have so provided. 
 My heart, alas, must be divided. 
 
 yS' Fair and Fair 
 
 (Enone. TIj^AIR and fair, and twice so fair, 
 -*- As fair as any may be; 
 The fairest shepherd on our green, 
 A love for any lady. 
 Paris. Fair and fair, and twice so fair. 
 As fair as any may be; 
 Thy love is fair, for thee alone 
 And for no other lady. 
 (Enone. My love is fair, my love is gay. 
 
 As fresh as bin the flowers in May, 
 
 67 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 And of my love my roundelay, 
 My merry, merry, merry roundelay, 
 Concludes with Cupid's curse, — 
 ** They that do change old love for new, 
 Pray gods they change for worse ! " 
 Amho simul. They that do change old love for new 
 Pray gods they change for worse! 
 
 (Enone. Fair and fair, and twice so fair, 
 As fair as any may be; 
 The fairest shepherd on our green, 
 A love for any lady. 
 Paris. Fair and fair, and twice so fafr^ 
 As fair as any may be; 
 Thy love is fair for thee alone 
 And for no other lady. 
 (Enone. My love can pipe, my love can sing, 
 My love can many a pretty thing. 
 And of his lovely praises ring 
 My merry, merry, merry roundelays. 
 
 Amen to Cupid's curse, — 
 ** They that do change old love for new 
 Pray gods they change for worse ! " 
 Amho simul. They that do change old love for new 
 Pray gods they change for worse. 
 
 G. PeeU 
 
 yd. A Pastoral of Phyllis and Cory don 
 
 /^N a hill there grows a flower, 
 ^-^ Fair befall the dainty sweet ! 
 By that flower there is a bower. 
 Where the heavenly Muses meet. 
 68 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 In that bower there is a chair, 
 
 Fringed all about with gold; 
 Where doth sit the fairest fair, 
 
 That did ever eye behold. 
 
 It is Phyllis fair and bright, 
 
 She that is the shepherds' joyj 
 She that Venus did despite. 
 
 And did blind her little boy. 
 
 This is she, the wise, the rich, 
 
 And the world desires to see; 
 This is ipsa quae the which 
 
 There is none but only she. 
 
 Who would not this face admire ? 
 
 Who would not this saint adore ? 
 Who would not this sight desire, 
 
 Though he thought to see no more? 
 
 O, fair eyes! yet let me see, 
 One good look, and I am gone; 
 
 Look on me, for I am he. 
 Thy poor silly Corydon. 
 
 Thou that art the shepherd's queen, 
 
 Look upon thy silly swain; 
 By thy comfort have been seen 
 Dead men brought to life again. 
 
 N. Breton 
 69 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 "/J, Radagon in Dianam 
 
 TT was a valley gaudy-green, 
 
 -*- Where Dian at the fount was seen; 
 
 Green it was. 
 
 And did pass 
 All other of Diana's bowers 
 In the pride of Flora's flowers. 
 
 A fount it was that no sun sees, 
 Circled in with cypress-trees, 
 
 Set so nigh 
 
 As Phoebus' eye 
 Could not do the virgins scathe, 
 To see them naked when they bathe. 
 
 She sat there all in white, 
 Colour fitting her delight: 
 
 Virgins so 
 
 Ought to go, 
 For white in armoury is plac'd 
 To be the colour that is chaste. 
 
 Her tafF'ta cassock might you see 
 Tucked up above her knee, 
 
 Which did show 
 
 There below 
 Legs as white as whales-bone; 
 So white and chaste were never none. 
 
 Hard by her, upon the ground, 
 Sat her virgins in a round, 
 70 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Bathing their 
 
 Golden hair, 
 And singing all in notes high, 
 " Fie on Venus' flattering eye ! 
 
 " Fie on love ! it is a toy ; 
 Cupid witless and a boy; 
 
 All his fires, 
 
 And desires. 
 Are plagues that God sent down from high 
 To pester men with misery." 
 
 As thus the virgins did disdain 
 Lovers' joy and lovers' pain, 
 
 Cupid nigh 
 
 Did espy. 
 Grieving at Diana's song, 
 Slyly stole these maids among. 
 
 His bow of steel, darts of fire. 
 
 He shot amongst them sweet desire, 
 
 Which straight flies 
 
 In their eyes. 
 And at the entrance made them start, 
 For it ran from eye to heart. 
 
 Calisto straight supposed Jove 
 Was fair and frolic for to love; 
 
 Dian she 
 
 Scaped not free. 
 For, well I wot, hereupon 
 She loved the swain Endymion; 
 
 71 
 
"1SI 
 
 THE BOOK OF 
 
 Clytie Phoebus, and Chloris' eye 
 Thought none so fair as Mercury: 
 
 Venus thus 
 
 Did discuss 
 By her son in darts of fire, 
 None so chaste to check desire. 
 
 Dian rose with all her maids, 
 Blushing thus at love's braids: 
 
 With sighs, all 
 
 Show their thrall; 
 And flinging hence pronounce this saw, 
 " What so strong as love's sweet law ? " 
 
 R. Greene 
 
 '^8. Philomela's Ode That She Sung in Her 
 A rhour 
 
 OITTING by a river side, 
 *^ Where a silent stream did glide, 
 Muse I did of many things. 
 That the mind in quiet brings. 
 I 'gan think how some men deem 
 Gold their god; and some esteem 
 Honour is the chief content 
 That to man in life is lent. 
 And some others do contend, 
 Quiet none like to a friend. 
 Others hold there is no wealth 
 Compared to a perfect health. 
 Some man's mind in quiet stands^ 
 When he is lord of many lands; 
 72 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 But I did sigh, and said all this 
 Was but a shade of perfect bliss; 
 And in my thoughts I did approve 
 Naught so sweet as is true love. 
 Love 'twixt lovers passeth these, 
 When mouth kisseth and heart grees, 
 With folded arms and lips meeting. 
 Each soul another sweetly greeting; 
 For by the breath the soul fleeteth. 
 And soul with soul in kissing m.eeteth. 
 If love be so sweet a thing, 
 That such happy bliss doth bring, 
 Happy is love's sugared thrall; 
 But unhappy maidens all, 
 Who esteem your virgin's blisses 
 Sweeter than a wife's sweet kisses. 
 No such quiet to the mind. 
 As true love with kisses kind. 
 But if a kiss prove unchaste. 
 Then is true love quite disgraced. 
 Though love be sweet, learn this of me: 
 No sweet love but honesty. 
 
 R. Greene 
 
 7p. The Nightingale 
 
 nPHE Nightingale, as soon as April bringeth 
 ^ Unto her rested sense a perfect waking, 
 While late-bare Earth, proud of new clothing, springeth, 
 Sings out her woes, a thorn her song-book making; 
 
 73 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 And mournfully bewailing, 
 Her throat in tunes expresseth 
 What grief her breast oppresseth 
 For Tereus' force on her chaste will prevailing. 
 
 O Philomela fairy O take some gladness 
 That here is juster cause of plaintful sadness! 
 
 Thine earth now springs y mine fadeth; 
 Thy thorn without^ my thorn my heart invadeth. 
 
 Alas ! she hath no other cause of anguish 
 
 But Tereus' love, on her by strong hand wroken, 
 Wherein she suffering, all her spirits languish. 
 Full womanlike complains her will was broken. 
 But I, who, daily craving. 
 Cannot have to content me. 
 Have more cause to lament me. 
 Since wanting is more woe than too much having. 
 
 O Philomela fatr^ take some gladness 
 That here is juster cause of plaintful sadness! 
 
 Thine earth now springs y mine fadeth; 
 Thy thorn withouty my thorn my heart invadeth. 
 
 Sir P. Sidney 
 
 So. Lovers Witchery 
 
 MY bonny lass, thine eye, 
 So sly, 
 Hath made me sorrow so; | 
 
 Thy crimson cheeks, my dear, 
 
 So clear, 
 Have so much wrought my woe; 
 74 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Thy pleasing smiles and grace, 
 
 Thy face, 
 Have ravished so my sprites. 
 That Hfe is grown to nought 
 
 Through thought 
 Of love, which me affrights. 
 
 For fancy's flames of fire 
 
 Aspire 
 Unto such furious power 
 As, but the tears I shed 
 
 Make dead 
 The brands would me devour, 
 
 I should consume to nought 
 
 Through thought 
 Of thy fair shining eye, 
 Thy cheeks, thy pleasing smiles, 
 
 The wiles 
 That forced my heart to die; 
 
 Thy grace, thy face, the part 
 
 Where art 
 Stands gazing still to see 
 The wondrous gifts and power, 
 
 Each hour. 
 That hath bewitched me 
 
 r. Lod 
 
 75 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 8i. Now What Is Love? 
 
 IVJOW what is Love, I pray thee, tell ? 
 
 ^^ It is that fountain and that well 
 Where pleasure and repentance dwell; 
 It is perhaps the sauncing bell 
 That tolls all into heaven or hell: 
 And this is Love, as I hear tell. 
 
 Yet what is Love, I prithee, say? 
 It is a work on holiday. 
 It is December matched with May, 
 When lusty bloods in fresh array 
 Hear ten months after of the play: 
 And this is Love, as I hear say. 
 
 Yet what is Love, good shepherd sain ? 
 
 It is a sunshine mixed with rain. 
 
 It is a toothache or like pain, 
 
 It is a game where none hath gain; 
 
 The lass saith no, yet would full fain: 
 
 And this is Love, as I hear sain. 
 
 Yet, shepherd, what is Love, I pray ? 
 It is a yes, it is a nay, 
 A pretty kind of sporting fray, 
 It is a thing will soon away. 
 Then, nymphs, take vantage while ye may: 
 And this is Love, as I hear say. 
 76 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Yet what is Love, good shepherd, show ? 
 A thing that creeps, it cannot go, 
 A prize that passeth to and fro, 
 A thing for one, a thing for moe. 
 And he that proves shall find it so; 
 And, shepherd, this is Love, I trow. 
 
 Sir W. Raleigh 
 
 My Ladys Hand 
 
 r\ GOODLY hand ! 
 ^-^ Wherein doth stand 
 
 My heart distraught in pain; 
 Dear hand, alas ! 
 In little space 
 
 My life thou dost restrain. 
 
 O fingers slight ! 
 Departed right. 
 
 So long, so small, so round; 
 Goodly begone. 
 And yet a bone. 
 
 Most cruel in my wound. 
 
 With lilies white 
 And roses bright 
 
 Doth strain thy colour fair; 
 Nature did lend 
 Each finger's end 
 
 A pearl for to repair. 
 
 77 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Consent at last, 
 Since that thou hast 
 
 My heart in thy demesne 
 For service true 
 On me to rue, 
 
 And reach me love again. 
 
 And if not so. 
 There v^ith more woe 
 
 Enforce thyself to strain 
 This simple heart, 
 That suffer'd smart. 
 
 And rid it out of pain. 
 
 Sir T. Wyat 
 
 8j. 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. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 78 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 84. A Double Doubting 
 
 T ADY, when I behold the roses sprouting, 
 
 -'— ' Which clad in damask mantles deck the arbours, 
 
 And then behold your lips where sweet love harbours. 
 My eyes present me with a double doubting: 
 For viewing both alike, hardly my mind supposes 
 Whether the roses be your lips, or your lips the roses. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 U 
 
 8^. Love Guards the Roses of Thy Lips 
 
 OVE guards the roses of thy lips 
 And flies about them like a bee; 
 If I approach he forward skips. 
 And if I kiss he stingeth me. 
 
 Love in thine eyes doth build his tower, 
 And sleeps within his pretty shrine; 
 
 And if I look the boy will lower. 
 
 And from their orbs shoot shafts divine. 
 
 Love works thy heart within his fire. 
 And in my tears doth firm the same; 
 
 And if I tempt it will retire, 
 
 And of my plaints doth make a game. 
 
 Love, let me cull her choicest flowers; 
 
 And pity me, and calm her eye; 
 Make soft her heart, dissolve her lowers; 
 
 Then will I praise thy deity. 
 
 But if thou do not. Love, I'll truly serve her 
 In spite of thee, and by firm faith deserve her. 
 
 T. LodfTi 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 86. Lips and Eyes 
 
 T OVE for such a cherry lip 
 -*— ' Would be glad to pawn his arrows; 
 Venus here to take a sip 
 
 Would sell her doves and team of sparrows. 
 But they shall not so; 
 
 Hey nonny, nonny no ! 
 None but I this lip must owe; 
 Hey nonny, nonny no ! 
 
 Did Jove see this wanton eye, 
 
 Ganymede must wait no longer; 
 Phoebe here one night did lie, 
 Would change her face and look much younger. 
 But they shall not so; 
 
 Hey nonny, nonny no ! 
 None but I this lip must owe; 
 Hey nonny, nonny no ! 
 
 T. Middleton 
 
 8y. Passions of Desire 
 
 TTOW shall I then gaze on my mistress' eyes ? 
 
 ^ -^ My thoughts must have some vent, else heart will 
 
 break. 
 My tongue would rust, as in my mouth it lies, 
 If eyes and thoughts were free and then not speak. 
 Speak then ! and tell the passions of desire, 
 Which turns mine eyes to floods, my thoughts to fire. 
 
 Anon. 
 80 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 88. Song 
 
 T'X /"HO hath his fancy pleased 
 
 * * With fruits of happy sight. 
 Let here his eyes be raised. 
 On Nature's sweetest Hght; 
 A hght which doth dissever 
 And yet unite the eyes, 
 A hght which, dying never, 
 Is cause the looker dies. 
 
 She never dies, but lasteth 
 In life of lover's heart; 
 He ever dies that wasteth 
 In love his chiefest part: 
 Thus is her life still guarded 
 In never-dying faith; 
 Thus is his death rewarded, 
 Since she lives in his death. 
 
 Look then, and die ! The pleasure 
 Doth answer well the pain : 
 Small loss of mortal treasure 
 Who may immortal gain ! 
 Immortal be her graces, 
 Immortal is her mind; 
 They fit for heavenly places — 
 This, heaven in it doth bind. 
 
 But eyes these beauties see not, 
 Nor sense that grace descries; 
 Yet eyes deprived be not 
 From sight of her fair eyes — 
 
 Si 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Which, as of inward glory 
 They are the outward seal, 
 So may they live still sorry. 
 Which die not in that weal. 
 
 But who hath fancies pleased 
 With fruits of happy sight, 
 Let here his eyes be raised 
 On Nature's sweetest light ! 
 
 Str P. Sidney 
 
 Her Eyes 
 
 'pRETTY twinkling starry eyes, 
 -*- How did Nature first devise 
 Such a sparkling in your sight 
 As to give Love such delight 
 As to make him, like a fly. 
 Play with looks until he die ? 
 
 N. Breton 
 
 po. To Dianeme 
 
 O WEET, be not proud of those two eyes 
 "^ Which starlike sparkle in their skies; 
 Nor be you proud that you can see 
 All hearts your captives, yours yet free; 
 Be you not proud of that rich hair 
 Which wantons with the love-sick air; 
 Whenas that ruby which you wear. 
 Sunk from the tip of your soft ear. 
 Will last to be a precious stone 
 When all your world of beauty's gone. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 82 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 gi. Then Love Be Judge 
 
 " I ^HOSE eyes that set my fancy on a fire, 
 ^ Those crisped hairs that hold my heart in chains, 
 Those dainty hands which conquered my desire. 
 That wit which of my thoughts doth hold the reins : 
 Then Love be judge, what heart may there withstand 
 Such eyes, such head, such wit, and such a hand ? 
 Those eyes for clearness doth the stars surpass. 
 Those hairs obscure the brightness of the sun, 
 Those hands more white than ever ivory was, 
 That wit even to the skies hath glory won. 
 O eyes that pierce the skies without remorse ! 
 O hairs of light that wear a royal crown ! 
 O hands that conquer more than Caesar's force 1 
 O wit that turns huge kingdoms upside down! 
 
 Anon. 
 
 g2. To Celia 
 
 T^RINK to me only with thine eyes, 
 -*-^ And I will pledge with mine; 
 Or leave a kiss but in the cup 
 
 And I'll 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 honouring thee 
 As giving it a hope that there 
 
 It could not withered be; 
 
 83 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 But thou thereon didst only breathe 
 
 And sent'st it back to me; 
 Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, 
 
 Not of itself, but thee! 
 
 B. Jonson 
 
 gj. A Miracle 
 
 OEHOLD a wonder here! 
 
 ^^ Love hath received his si^htl 
 Which many hundred year 
 Hath not beheld the light. 
 
 Such beams infused be 
 By Cynthia in his eyes, 
 As first have made him see. 
 And then have made him wise. 
 
 Love now no more will weep 
 For them that laugh the while! 
 Nor wake for them that sleep, 
 Nor sigh for them that smile! 
 
 So powerful is the Beauty 
 That Love doth now behold. 
 As Love is turned to Duty 
 That's neither blind nor bold. 
 
 Thus Beauty shows her might 
 To be of double kind; 
 In giving Love his sight 
 And striking Folly blind. 
 
 84 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 g4. On the Excellence of His Mistress 
 
 nPHOSE eyes that hold the hand of every heart, 
 -"- That hand that holds the heart of every eye, 
 That wit that goes beyond all nature's art, 
 
 The sense too deep for wisdom to descry: 
 That eye, that hand, that wit, that heavenly sense 
 Doth shew my only mistress' excellence. 
 
 O eyes that pierce into the purest heart! 
 
 O hands that hold the highest thoughts in thrall ! 
 O wit that weighs the depth of all desart! 
 
 O sense that shew the secret sweet of all ! 
 The heaven of heavens with heavenly power preserve thee, 
 Love but thyself, and give me leave to serve thee. 
 
 To serve, to live to look upon those eyes. 
 To look, to live to kiss that heavenly hand, 
 
 To sound that wit that doth amaze the mind. 
 To know that sense, no sense can understand, 
 
 To understand that all the world may know, 
 
 Such wit, such sense, eyes, hands, there are no moe. 
 
 N. Breton 
 
 95. For Pity, Pretty Eyes, Surcease 
 
 T^OR pity, pretty eyes, surcease 
 ■*- To give me war, and grant me peace. 
 Triumphant eyes, why bear you arms 
 Against a heart that thinks no harms ? 
 
 85 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 A heart already quite appalled, 
 A heart that yields and is enthralled ? 
 Kill rebels, proudly that resist; 
 Not those that in true faith persist, 
 And conquered serve your deity. 
 Will you, alas ! command me die ? 
 Then die I yours, and death my cross; 
 But unto you pertains the loss. 
 
 T. Lodge 
 
 p6. Bright Star of Beauty 
 
 To the Lady L. S. 
 
 T)RIGHT star of beauty, on whose eye-lids sit 
 -^-^ A thousand nymph-like and enamoured graces, 
 The goddesses of memory and wit. 
 Which in due order take their several places; 
 In whose dear bosom, sweet, delicious Love 
 Lays down his quiver, that he once did bear; 
 Since he that blessed paradise did prove, 
 Forsook his mother's lap to sport him there. 
 Let others strive to entertain with words, 
 My soul is of another temper made; 
 I hold it vile that vulgar wit affords. 
 Devouring time my faith shall not invade: 
 Still let my praise be honoured thus by you. 
 Be you most worthy, whilst I be most true. 
 
 M. Drayton 
 
 86 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 gj. What Poor Astronomers Are They 
 
 "X "X THAT poor astronomers are they, 
 
 * ^ Take women's eyes for stars ! 
 And set their thoughts in battle 'ray, 
 To fight such idle wars; 
 When in the end they shall approve, 
 'Tis but a jest drawn out of Love. 
 
 And Love itself is but a jest 
 
 Devised by idle heads, 
 
 To catch young Fancies in the nest, 
 
 And lay them in fool's beds; 
 
 That being hatched in beauty's eyes 
 
 They may be fledged ere they be wise. 
 
 But yet it is a sport to see, 
 How Wit will run on wheels; 
 While Will cannot persuaded be, 
 With that which Reason feels. 
 That women's eyes and stars are odd 
 And Love is but a feigned god. 
 
 But such as will run mad with Will, 
 
 I cannot clear their sight 
 
 But leave them to their study still, 
 
 To look where is no light. 
 
 Till, time too late, we make them try, 
 
 They study false Astronomy. 
 
 Anon. 
 87 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 g8. Willing Bondage 
 
 T TER hair the net of golden wire, 
 
 "*- ^ Wherein my heart, led by my wandering eyes 
 So fast entangled is that in no wise 
 
 It can, nor will, again retire; 
 
 But rather will in that sweet bondage die 
 Than break one hair to gain her liberty. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 gg. What Guile Is This? 
 
 ^"X THAT guile is this, that those her golden tresses 
 
 ^ ^ She doth attire under a net of gold ; 
 And with sly skill so cunningly them dresses. 
 That which is gold or hair may scarce be told ? 
 Is it that men's frail eyes, which gaze too bold, 
 She may entangle in that golden snare; 
 And, being caught, may craftily enfold 
 Their weaker hearts, which are not well aware ? 
 Take heed, therefore, mine eyes, how ye do stare 
 Henceforth too rashly on that guileful net, 
 In which, if ever ye entrapped are, 
 Out of her bands ye by no means shall get. 
 Fondness it were for any, being free. 
 To covert fetters, though they golden be. 
 
 E. Spenser 
 
 TOO. Upon Julia'' s Hair Filled with Dew 
 
 "T^EW sat on Julia's hair, 
 -"-^ And spangled too, 
 Like leaves that laden are 
 With trembling dew: 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Or glittered to my sight 
 
 As when the beams 
 Have their reflected Hght 
 
 Danced by the streams. 
 
 R, Herrick 
 
 10 1. Daphne 
 
 IV yTY Daphne's hair is twisted gold, 
 
 ^^ ^ Bright stars a-piece her eyes do hold, 
 
 My Daphne's brow enthrones the graces, 
 
 My Daphne's beauty stains all faces; 
 
 On Daphne's cheek grow rose and cherry. 
 
 On Daphne's lip a sweeter berry; 
 
 Daphne's snowy hand but touched does melt, 
 
 And then no heavenlier warmth is felt; 
 
 My Daphne's voice tunes all the spheres. 
 
 My Daphne's music charms all ears; 
 
 Fond am I thus to sing her praise, 
 
 These glories now are turned to bays. 
 
 J. Lyly 
 
 102. The Glove 
 
 nPHOU 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 ware thee. 
 Whiter than the kid that bare thee. 
 Thou art soft, but that was softer; 
 Cupid's self hath kissed it ofter 
 
 89 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Than e'er he did his mother's doves, 
 Supposing her the queen of loves, 
 That was thy mistress, best of gloves. 
 
 B. Jonson 
 
 10 J. In Tears Her Triumph 
 
 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 cheek 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 shin'st 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 ! 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 T04. . Simplex Munditiis 
 
 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. 
 90 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 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 th' adulteries of art; 
 
 They strike mine eyes, but not my heart. 
 
 B. Jonson 
 
 10^. Upon Julia's Clothes 
 
 'X^T'HENAS in silks my Julia goes, 
 
 ^ ^ Then, then, methinks, how sweetly flows 
 The liquefaction of her clothes ! 
 
 Next, when I cast mine eyes and see 
 That brave vibration each way free, 
 — O how that glittering taketh me! 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 io6. 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: 
 
 91 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 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. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 loy. On a Girdle 
 
 npHAT 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 ! 
 
 E. Wallei 
 
 io8. To the Western Wind 
 
 OWEET western wind, whose luck it is, 
 "^ Made rival with the air, 
 To give Perenna's lips a kiss, 
 And fan her wanton hair: 
 92 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Bring me but one, I'll promise thee, 
 Instead of common showers, 
 
 Thy wings shall be embalmed by me, 
 And all beset with flowers. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 log. Phyllis 
 
 TN petticoat of green, 
 
 -*■ Her hair about her eyne, 
 
 Phyllis beneath an oak 
 
 Sat milking her fair flock : 
 *Mongst that sweet-strained moisture, rare delight, 
 Her hand seemed milk, in milk it was so white. 
 
 W. Drummond 
 
 110. A Dialogue 
 
 ** A RT thou that she than whom no fairer is .? 
 -^ ^ Art thou that she desire so strives to kiss ? '* 
 "Say I am, how then .? 
 Maids may not kiss 
 Such wanton-humoured men." 
 
 " Art thou that she the world commends for wit ? 
 Art thou so wise and mak'st no use of it ? " 
 " Say I am, how then ? 
 My wit doth teach me shun 
 Such foolish, foolish men." 
 
 Christ Church MS. 
 93 
 
F' 
 
 THE BOOK OF 
 ///. Rosalind 
 
 ^ROM the east to western Ind, 
 
 No jewel is like Rosalind. 
 
 Her worth, being mounted on the wind, 
 
 Through all the world bears Rosalind. 
 
 All the pictures, fairest lined, 
 
 Are but black to Rosalind. 
 
 Let no fair be kept in mind, 
 
 But the fair of Rosalind. „/ oi i 
 
 fr, d hakes peare 
 
 112. Promised Weal 
 
 r~\ WORDS, which fall like summer dew on me! 
 
 ^-^ O breath, more sweet than is the growing bean ! 
 
 O tongue, in which all honeyed liquors be ! 
 
 O voice, that doth the thrush in shrillness stain ! 
 Do you say still this is her promise due: 
 That she is mine, as I to her am true! 
 
 Gay hair, more gay than straw when harvest lies ! 
 
 Lips, red and plump as cherries' ruddy side! 
 
 Eyes, fair and great, like fair great ox's eyes! 
 
 O breast, in which two white sheep swell in pride! 
 Join you with me to seal this promise due: 
 That she be mine, as I to her am true! 
 
 But thou, white skin, as white as curds well pressed. 
 So smooth as sleek-stone like it smoothes each part! 
 And thou, dear flesh, as soft as wool new dressed, 
 And yet as hard as brawn made hard by art ! 
 
 First four but say, next four their saying seal; 
 
 But you must pay the gage of promised weal. 
 
 Sir P. Sidney 
 
 94 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 113. Presents 
 
 OEE, see, mine own sweet jewel, 
 
 ^^ What have I for my dading: 
 
 A robin-redbreast and a starHng. 
 
 These I give both in hope to move thee; 
 
 Yet thou say'st I do not love thee. 
 
 Anon 
 
 114. Myra 
 
 T WITH whose colours Myra dressed her head, 
 -*"' I, that wear posies of her own hand-making, 
 I, that mine own name in the chimneys read 
 By Myra finely wrought ere I was waking: 
 Must I look on, in hope time coming may 
 With change bring back my turn again to play ? 
 
 I, that on Sunday at the church-stile found 
 
 A garland sweet with true-love-knots in flowers, 
 
 Which I to wear about mine arms was bound 
 That each of us might know that all was ours: 
 
 Must I lead now an idle life in wishes, 
 
 And follow Cupid for his loaves and fishes ? 
 
 I, that did wear the ring her mother left, 
 I, for whose love she gloried to be blamed, 
 
 I, with whose eyes her eyes committed theft, 
 
 I, who did make her blush when I was named: 
 
 Must I lose ring, flowers, blush, theft, and go naked, 
 
 Watching with sighs till dead love be awaked r 
 
 95 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Was it for this that I might Myra see 
 
 Washing the waters with her beauties white ? 
 
 Yet would she never write her love to me. 
 
 Thinks wit of change when thoughts are r.i delight ? 
 
 Mad girls may safely love as they may leave; 
 
 No man can print a kiss : lines may deceive. 
 
 F. GreviUe, Lord Brooke 
 
 115. Sweet Robbery 
 
 ' I ^HE forward violet thus did I chide: 
 ^ Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that 
 smells, 
 If not from my love*s breath t The purple pride, 
 Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells. 
 In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dyed. 
 The lily I condemned for thy hand 
 And buds of marjoram had stolen thy hair; 
 The roses fearfully on thorns did stand, 
 One blushing shame, another white despair; 
 A third, nor red nor white, had stolen of both, 
 And to his robbery had annexed thy breath; 
 But, for his theft, in pride of all his growth 
 A vengeful canker ate him up to death. 
 
 More flowers I noted; yet I none could see 
 But sweet or colour it had stolen from thee. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 96 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 ii6. Boron's Description 0} Samela 
 
 T IKE to Diana in her summer weed, 
 
 -*-^ Girt with a crimson robe of brightest dye, 
 
 Goes fair Samela; 
 Whiter than be the flocks that straggling feed, 
 When washed by Arethusa Fount they He, 
 
 Is fair Samela; 
 
 As fair Aurora in her morning-grey, 
 
 Decked with the ruddy glister of her love, 
 Is fair Samela; 
 Like lovely Thetis on a calmed day, 
 
 Whenas her brightness Neptune's fancy move, 
 Shines fair Samela; 
 
 Her tresses gold, her eyes like glassy streams. 
 Her teeth are pearl, the breasts are ivory 
 Of fair Samela; 
 Her cheeks like rose and lily yield forth gleams; 
 Her brow's bright arches framed of ebony: 
 Thus fair Samela 
 
 Passeth fair Venus in her bravest hue. 
 And Juno in the shadow of majesty, 
 For she's Samela; 
 Pallas in wit, — all three, if you will view. 
 For beauty, wit, and matchless dignity. 
 Yield to Samela. 
 
 R. Greene 
 97 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 7/7. There Is a Lady Sweet and Kind 
 
 'T^HERE is a Lady sweet and kind, 
 "*■ Was never face so pleased my mind; 
 I did but see her passing by, 
 And yet I love her till I die. 
 
 Her gesture, motion, and her smiles. 
 Her wit, her voice my heart beguiles. 
 Beguiles my heart, I know not why. 
 And yet I love her till I die. 
 
 Cupid is winged and doth range, 
 Her country so my love doth change : 
 But change she earth, or change she sky, 
 Yet will I love her till I die. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 118. Hearfs Hiding 
 
 OWEET Love, mine only treasure, 
 ^^ For service long unfeigned, 
 
 Wherein I nought have gained 
 Vouchsafe this little pleasure. 
 To tell me in what part 
 My mistress keeps her heart. 
 
 If in her hair so slender 
 
 Like golden nets entwined 
 
 Which fire and art have 'fined, 
 Her thrall my heart I render 
 
 For ever to abide 
 
 With locks so dainty tied. 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 If in her eyes she bind it, 
 
 Wherein that fire was framed 
 By which it is inflamed, 
 
 I dare not look to find it: 
 I only wish it sight 
 To see that pleasant light. 
 
 But if her breast have deigned 
 With kindness to receive it, 
 I am content to leave it, 
 
 Though death thereby were gained. 
 Then, Lady, take your own 
 That lives for you alone. 
 
 Tig. Sirena 
 
 IVTEAR to the silver Trent 
 ^ ^ Sirena dwelleth; 
 She to whom Nature lent 
 
 All that excelleth; 
 By which the Muses late 
 
 And the neat Graces 
 Have for their greater state 
 
 Taken their places; 
 Twisting an anadem 
 
 Wherewith to crown her, 
 As it belonged to them 
 
 Most to renown her. 
 
 L OF C. 
 
 A. W. 
 
 99 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 On thy bankj 
 In a ranky 
 
 Let thy swans stng her. 
 And with their music 
 Along let them bring her, 
 
 Tagus and Pactolus 
 
 Are to thee debtor, 
 Nor for their gold to us 
 
 Are they the better: 
 Henceforth of all the rest 
 
 Be thou the River 
 Which, as the daintiest, 
 
 Puts them down ever. 
 For as my precious one 
 
 O'er thee doth travel, 
 She to pearl paragon 
 
 Turneth thy gravel. 
 On thy hank ... 
 
 Our mournful Philomel, 
 
 That rarest tuner. 
 Henceforth in Aperil 
 
 Shall wake the sooner. 
 And to her shall complain 
 
 From the thick cover. 
 Redoubling every strain 
 
 Over and over: 
 For when my Love too long 
 
 Her chamber keepeth. 
 As though it suffered wrong. 
 
 The Morning weepeth. 
 On thy hank , . . 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Oft have I seen the Sun, 
 
 To do her honour, 
 Fix himself at his noon 
 
 To look upon her; 
 And hath gilt every grove, 
 
 Every hill near her, 
 With his flames from above 
 
 Striving to cheer her: 
 And when she from his sight 
 
 Hath herself turned, 
 He, as it had been night. 
 
 In clouds hath mourned. 
 On thy bank . . . 
 
 The verdant meads are seen. 
 
 When she doth view them. 
 In fresh and gallant green 
 . Straight to renew them; 
 And every little grass 
 
 Broad itself spreadeth. 
 Proud that this bonny lass 
 
 Upon it treadeth : 
 Nor flower is so sweet 
 
 In this large cincture. 
 But it upon her feet 
 
 Leaveth some tincture. 
 On thy bank . . . 
 
 The fishes in the flood, 
 When she doth angle, 
 
 For the hook strive a-good 
 Them to entangle; 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 And leaping on the land, 
 
 From the clear water, 
 Their scales upon the sand 
 
 Lavishly scatter; 
 — Therewith to pave the mould 
 
 Whereon she passes. 
 So herself to behold 
 
 As in her glasses. 
 
 On thy bank . . . 
 
 When she looks out by night, 
 
 The stars stand gazing, 
 Like comets to our sight 
 
 Fearfully blazing; 
 As wond'ring at her eyes 
 
 With their much brightness. 
 Which so amaze the skies, 
 
 Dimming their lightness. 
 The raging tempests are calm 
 
 When she speaketh. 
 Such most delightsome balm 
 
 From her lips breaketh. 
 On thy bank . . . 
 
 In all our Brittany 
 
 There's not a fairer. 
 Nor can you fit any 
 
 Should you compare her. 
 Angels her eyelids keep. 
 
 All hearts surprising; 
 Which look whilst she doth sleep 
 
 Like the sun's rising: 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 She alone of her kind 
 
 Knoweth true measure, 
 And her unmatched mind 
 
 Is heaven's treasure. 
 
 On thy hank . . . 
 
 Fair Dove and Derwent clear, 
 
 Boast ye your beauties, 
 To Trent your mistress here 
 
 Yet pay your duties: 
 My Love was higher born 
 
 Tow'rds the full fountains, 
 Yet she doth moorland scorn 
 
 And the Peak mountains; 
 Nor would she none should dream 
 
 Where she abideth. 
 Humble as is the stream 
 
 Which by her slideth. 
 On thy hank . . . 
 
 Yet my poor rustic Muse 
 
 Nothing can move her, 
 Nor the means I can use 
 
 Though her true lover: 
 Many a long winter's night 
 
 Have I waked for her. 
 Yet this my piteous plight 
 
 Nothing can stir her. 
 All thy sands, silver Trent, 
 
 Down to the Humher, 
 The sighs that I have spent 
 
 Never can number. 
 
 103 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 On thy hank. 
 In a rank. 
 
 Let thy swans sing her. 
 And zvith their music 
 
 Along let them bring her. 
 
 M. Drayton 
 
 120. Elizabeth of Bohemia 
 
 'V/'OU meaner beauties of the night, 
 
 That poorly satisfy our eyes 
 More by your number than your light, 
 
 You common people of the skies; 
 What are you when the moon shall rise ? 
 
 You curious chanters of the wood. 
 
 That warble forth Dame Nature's lays. 
 
 Thinking your passions understood 
 
 By your weak accents; what's your praise 
 
 When Philomel her voice shall raise ? 
 
 You violets that first appear. 
 
 By your pure purple mantles known 
 
 Like the proud virgins of the year, 
 As if the spring were all your own; 
 
 What are you when the rose is blown ? 
 
 So, when my mistress shall be seen 
 In form and beauty of her mind, 
 
 By virtue first, then choice, a Queen, 
 Tell me, if she were not designed 
 
 Th' eclipse and glory of her kind. 
 
 Sir H. Wotton 
 
 104 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 121. A Praise of His Lady 
 
 /^^ IVE place, you ladies, and begone ! 
 ^-^ Boast not yourselves at all ! 
 For here at hand approacheth one 
 Whose face will stain you all. 
 
 The virtue of her lively looks 
 Excels the precious stone; 
 
 I wish to have none other books 
 To read or look upon. 
 
 In each of her two crystal eyes 
 
 Smileth a naked boy; 
 It would you all in heart suffice 
 
 To see that lamp of joy. 
 
 I think Nature hath lost the mould 
 Where she her shape did take; 
 
 Or else I doubt if Nature could 
 So fair a creature make. 
 
 She may be well compared 
 
 Unto the Phoenix kind. 
 Whose like was never seen or heard 
 
 That any man can find. 
 
 In life she is Diana chaste, 
 
 In truth Penelope; 
 In word and eke 'in deed steadfast. 
 
 — What will you more we say ? 
 
 105 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 If all the world were sought so far, 
 Who could find such a wight ? 
 
 Her beauty twinketh like a star 
 Within the frosty night. 
 
 Her roseal colour comes and goes 
 
 With such a comely grace, 
 More ruddier, too, than doth the rose, 
 
 Within her lively face. 
 
 At Bacchus' feast none shall her meet, 
 
 Ne at no wanton play. 
 Nor gazing in an open street, 
 
 Nor gadding as a stray. 
 
 The modest mirth that she doth use 
 Is mixed with shamefastness; 
 
 All vice she wholly doth refuse, 
 And hateth idleness. 
 
 O Lord ! it is a world to see 
 How virtue can repair, 
 
 And deck in her such honesty, 
 Whom Nature made so fair. 
 
 Truly she doth so far exceed 
 Our women nowadays, 
 
 As doth the gillyflower a weed; 
 And more a thousand ways. 
 io6 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 How might I do to get a grafF 
 
 Of this unspotted tree ? 
 — For all the rest are plain but chaff, 
 
 Which seem good corn to be. 
 
 This gift alone I shall her give; 
 
 When death doth what he can, 
 Her honest fame shall ever live 
 
 Within the mouth of man. 
 
 J. Heywood 
 
 122, Fair Is My Love 
 
 "C^AIR is my love, when her fair golden hairs 
 
 -'■ With the loose wind ye waving chance to mark; 
 
 Fair, when the rose in her red cheeks appears; 
 
 Or in her eyes the fire of love does spark. 
 
 Fair, when her breast, like a rich-laden bark. 
 
 With precious merchandise she forth doth lay; 
 
 Fair, when that cloud of pride, which oft doth dark 
 
 Her goodly light, with smiles she drives away. 
 
 But fairest she, when so she doth display 
 
 The gate with pearls and rubies richly dight; 
 
 Through which her words so wise do make their way 
 
 To bear the message of her gentle sprite. 
 
 The rest be works of nature's wonderment: 
 
 But this the work of heart's astonishment. 
 
 E. Spenser 
 107 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 123. A Bitty 
 
 In Praise of Eltza^ Queen of the Shepherds 
 
 OEE where she sits upon the grassy green, 
 
 ^^ O seemly sight ! 
 
 Yclad in scarlet, like a maiden Queen, 
 
 And ermines white: 
 Upon her head a crimson coronet 
 With Damask roses and DafFadillies set: 
 
 Bay leaves between, 
 
 And Primroses green. 
 Embellish the sweet Violet. 
 
 Tell me, have ye beheld her angelic face 
 
 Like Phoebe fair ? 
 Her heavenly haviour, her princely grace, 
 
 Can ye well compare ? 
 The Red rose medled with the White yfere, 
 . In either cheek depeincten lively cheer 
 
 Her modest eye. 
 
 Her majesty, 
 Where have you seen the like but there ? 
 
 I saw Calliope speed her to the place 
 
 Where my goddess shines; 
 And after her the other Muses trace 
 
 With their violines. 
 Bin they not bay-branches which they do bear 
 All for Eliza in her hand to wear ? 
 
 So sweetly they play. 
 
 And sing all the way, 
 That it a heaven is to hear. 
 108 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Lo, how finely the Graces can it foot 
 
 To the instrument: 
 They dancen deftly, and singen soot 
 
 In their merriment. 
 Wants not a fourth Grace to make the dance even ? 
 Let that room to my Lady be given. 
 
 She shall be a Grace, 
 
 To fill the fourth place. 
 And reign with the rest in heaven. 
 
 Bring hither the Pink and purple Columbine, 
 
 With Gillyflowers; 
 Bring Coronations, and Sops-in-wine 
 
 Worn of Paramours : 
 Strow me the ground with Daffadowndillies, 
 And Cowslips and Kingcups and loved Lilies' 
 
 The pretty Paunce 
 
 And the Chevisaunce 
 Shall match with the fair Flower-delice. 
 
 E. Spenser 
 
 T24. Wishes to His Supposed Mistress 
 
 VXTHOE'ER she be — 
 
 That not impossible She 
 That shall command my heart and me: 
 
 Where'er she lie. 
 
 Locked up from mortal eye 
 
 In shady leaves of destiny: 
 
 109 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Till that ripe birth 
 
 Of studied Fate stand forth, 
 
 And teach her fair steps to our earth: 
 
 Till that divine 
 
 Idea take a shrine 
 
 Of crystal flesh, through which to shine: 
 
 Meet you her, my Wishes, 
 Bespeak her to my blisses, 
 And be ye called my absent kisses. 
 
 I wish her Beauty, 
 
 That owes not all its duty 
 
 To gaudy tire, or glist'ring shoe-tie: 
 
 Something more than 
 Taff^ata or tissue can, 
 Or rampant feather, or rich fan. 
 
 A Face, that's best 
 
 By its own beauty drest, 
 
 And can alone commend the rest: 
 
 A Face, made up 
 
 Out of no other shop 
 
 Than what Nature's white hand sets ope. 
 
 A Cheek, where youth 
 
 And blood, with pen of truth. 
 
 Write what the reader sweetly rii'th. 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 A Cheek, where grows 
 More than a morning rose, 
 Which to no box his being owes. 
 
 Lips, where all day 
 
 A lover's kiss may play. 
 
 Yet carry nothing thence away. 
 
 Looks, that oppress 
 
 Their richest tires, but dress 
 
 And clothe their simplest nakedness. 
 
 Eyes, that displace 
 
 The neighbour diamond, and outface 
 
 That sunshine by their own sweet grace. 
 
 Tresses, that wear 
 
 Jewels but to declare 
 
 How much themselves more precious are: 
 
 Whose native ray 
 
 Can tame the wanton day 
 
 Of gems that in their bright shades play. 
 
 Each ruby there. 
 
 Or pearl that dare appear. 
 
 Be its own blush, be its own tear. 
 
 A well-tamed Heart, 
 . For whose more noble smart 
 Love may be long choosing a dart. 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Eyes, that bestow 
 
 Full quivers on love's bow, 
 
 Yet pay less arrows than they owe. 
 
 Smiles, that can warm 
 
 The blood, yet teach a charm, 
 
 That chastity shall take no harm. 
 
 Blushes, that bin 
 
 The burnish of no sin. 
 
 Nor flames of aught too hot within. 
 
 Joys, that confess 
 
 Virtue their mistress. 
 
 And have no other head to dress. 
 
 Fears, fond and slight 
 
 As the coy bride's, when night 
 
 First does the longing lover right. 
 
 Days that need borrow 
 
 No part of their good morrow, 
 
 From a fore-spent night of sorrow: 
 
 Days that in spite 
 
 Of darkness, by the light 
 
 Of a clear mind are day all night. 
 
 Nights, sweet as they, 
 
 Made short by lovers' play. 
 
 Yet long by the absence of the day. 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Life that dares send 
 
 A challenge to his end, 
 
 And when it comes, say, " Welcome, friend ! ' 
 
 Sydneian showers ♦ 
 
 Of sweet discourse, whose powers 
 
 Can crown old Winter's head with flowers. 
 
 Soft silken hours. 
 
 Open suns, shady bowers; 
 
 *Bove all, nothing within that lowers. 
 
 Whate'er delight 
 
 Can make Day's forehead bright. 
 
 Or give down to the wings of Night. 
 
 I wish her store 
 
 Of worth may leave her poor 
 
 Of wishes ; and I wish — no more. 
 
 Now, if Time knows 
 
 That Her, whose radiant brows 
 
 Weave them a garland of my vows; 
 
 Her, whose just bays 
 
 My future hopes can raise, 
 
 A trophy to her present praise; 
 
 Her, that dares be 
 
 What these lines wish to see; 
 
 I seek no further, it is She. 
 
 "3 
 
THE BOOK OF - 
 
 'Tis She, and here, 
 
 Lo! I unclothe and clear 
 
 My Wishes' cloudy character. 
 
 May she enjoy it 
 
 Whose merit dare apply it, 
 
 But modesty dares still deny it! 
 
 Such worth as this is 
 Shall fix my flying Wishes, 
 And determine them to kisses. 
 
 Let her full glory, 
 
 My fancies, fly before ye; 
 
 Be ye my fictions — but her story. 
 
 R. Crashaw 
 
 r2^. Rosaline 
 
 T IKE to the clear in highest sphere 
 — ' Where all imperial glory shines. 
 Of selfsame colour is her hair 
 Whether unfolded or in twines 
 Heigh ho, fair Rosaline! 
 Her eyes are sapphires set in snow, 
 
 Resembling heaven by every wink; 
 The gods do fear whenas they glow. 
 And I do tremble when I think 
 
 Heigh ho, would she were mine! 
 114 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Her cheeks are like the blushing cloud 
 
 That beautifies Aurora's face, 
 Or like the silver crimson shroud 
 
 That Phoebus' smiling looks doth grace: 
 Heigh ho, fair Rosaline ! 
 Her lips are like two budded roses 
 
 Whom ranks of lilies neighbour nigh, 
 Within whose bounds she balm encloses 
 
 Apt to entice a deity: 
 
 Heigh ho, would she were mine! 
 
 Her neck is like a stately tower 
 
 Where Love himself imprison'd lies, 
 To watch for glances every hour 
 
 From her divine and sacred eyes: 
 Heigh ho, fair Rosaline ! 
 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: 
 Heigh ho, 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: 
 Heigh ho, fair Rosaline ! 
 Nature herself her shape admires; 
 
 The gods are wounded in her sight; 
 And Love forsakes his heavenly fires 
 
 And at her eyes his brand doth light: 
 Heigho ho, would she were mine! 
 
 "5 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Then muse not, Nymphs, though I bemoan 
 
 The absence of fair RosaHne, 
 Since for a fair there's fairer none, 
 Nor for her virtues so divine : 
 Heigh ho, fair RosaHne ! 
 Heigh ho, my heart ! would God that she were mine ! 
 
 r. Lodge 
 
 126. Damelus^ Song of His Diaphenia 
 
 pvIAPHENIA hke the daffadowndilly, 
 •*-^ White as the sun, fair as the lily. 
 
 Heigh ho, how I do love thee ! 
 I do love thee as my lambs 
 Are beloved of their dams — 
 
 How blest were I if thou wouldst prove me I 
 
 Diaphenia like the spreading roses. 
 That in thy sweets all sweets encloses, 
 
 Fair sweet, how I do love thee ! 
 I do love thee as each flower 
 Love's the sun's life-giving power. 
 
 For death, thy breath to life might move me. 
 
 Diaphenia, like to all things blessed 
 When all thy praises are expressed, 
 
 Dear joy, how I do love thee! 
 As the birds do love the spring. 
 Or the bees their careful king: 
 
 Then in requite, sweet virgin, love me ! 
 
 H. Constable 
 116 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 12'j. Ubique 
 
 \\TY,KE I as base as is the lowly plain, 
 
 '' * And you, my Love, as high as heaven above, 
 Yet should the thoughts of me, your humble swain, 
 Ascend to heaven in honour of my love. 
 Were I as high as heaven above the plain. 
 And you, my Love, as humble and as low 
 As are the deepest bottoms of the main, 
 Wheresoe'er you were, with you my love should go. 
 Were you the earth, dear Love, and I the skies. 
 My love should shine on you like to the Sun, 
 And look upon you with ten thousand eyes. 
 Till heaven waxed blind, and till the world were done. 
 Wheresoe'er I am, below, — or else above you — 
 Wheresoe'er you are, my heart shall truly love you. 
 
 J. Sylvester 
 
 128. Flos Florum 
 
 TV yTE so oft my fancy drew 
 
 ^^ ^ Here and there, that I ne'er knew 
 
 Where to place desire before 
 
 So that range it might no more; 
 
 But as he that passeth by 
 
 Where, in all her jollity, 
 
 Flora's riches in a row 
 
 Do in seemly order grow. 
 
 And a thousand flowers stand 
 
 Bending as to kiss his hand; 
 
 117 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Out of which delightful store 
 One he may take and no more; 
 Long he pausing doubteth whether 
 Of those fair ones he should gather. 
 
 First the Primrose courts his eyes, 
 Then a Cowslip he espies; 
 Next the Pansy seems to woo him, 
 Then Carnations bow unto him; 
 Which whilst that enamoured swain 
 From the stalk intends to strain, 
 (As half-fearing to be seen) 
 Prettily her leaves between 
 Peeps the Violet, pale to see 
 That her virtues slighted be; 
 Which so much his liking wins 
 That to seize her he begins. 
 
 Yet before he stooped so low 
 He his wanton eye did throw 
 On a stem that grew more high, 
 And the Rose did there espy. 
 Who, beside her precious scent, 
 To procure his eyes content 
 Did display her goodly breast. 
 Where he found at full expresst 
 All the good that Nature showers 
 On a thousand other flowers; 
 Wherewith he aff'ected takes it. 
 His beloved flower he makes it. 
 And without desire of more 
 Walks through all he saw before. 
 ii8 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 So I wandering but erewhere 
 
 Through the garden of this Isle, 
 
 Saw rich beauties I confess, 
 
 And in number numberless. 
 
 Yea, so differing lovely too, 
 
 That I had a world to do 
 
 Ere I could set up my rest, 
 
 Where to choose and choose the best. 
 
 Thus I fondly feared, till Fate 
 
 (Which I must confess in that 
 
 Did a greater favour to me 
 
 Than the world can malice do me) 
 
 Showed to me that matchless flower, 
 
 Subject for this song of our; 
 
 Whose perfection having eyed. 
 
 Reason instantly espied 
 
 That Desire, which ranged abroad, 
 
 There would find a period : 
 
 And no marvel if it might. 
 
 For it there hath all delight. 
 
 And in her hath nature placed 
 
 What each several fair one graced. 
 
 Let who list, for me, advance 
 The admired flowers of France, 
 Let who will praise and behold 
 The reserved Marigold; 
 Let the sweet-breath'd Violet now 
 Unto whom she pleaseth bow; 
 And the fairest Lily spread 
 Where she will her golden head; 
 
 119 
 
\ THE BOOK OF 
 
 I have such a flower to wear 
 That for those I do not care. 
 Let the young and happy swains 
 Playing on the Britain plains 
 Court unblamed their shepherdesses, 
 And with their gold curled tresses 
 Toy uncensured, until I 
 Grudge at their prosperity. 
 
 Let all times, both present, past, 
 And the age that shall be last. 
 Vaunt the beauties they bring forth. 
 I have found in one such worth. 
 That content I neither care 
 What the best before me were; 
 Nor desire to live and see 
 Who shall fair hereafter be; 
 For I know the hand of Nature 
 Will not make a fairer creature. 
 
 G. Wither 
 
 I2g, Fawnia 
 
 A H ! were she pitiful as she is fair, 
 -^ ^ Or but as mild as she is seeming so, 
 Then were my hopes greater than my despair. 
 
 Then all the world were heaven, nothing woe. 
 Ah ! were her heart relenting as her hand. 
 
 That seems to melt even with the mildest touch, 
 Then knew I where to seat me in a land 
 
 Under wide heavens, but yet there is not such. 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 So as she shows she seems the budding rose, 
 Yet sweeter far than is an earthly flower; 
 
 Sovran of beauty, Hke the spray she grows; 
 
 Compassed she is with thorns and cankered flower. 
 
 Yet were she wilhng to be plucked and worn, 
 
 She would be gathered, though she grew on thorn. 
 
 Ah ! when she sings, all music else be still, 
 
 For none must be compared to her note; 
 Ne'er breathed such glee from Philomela's bill. 
 
 Nor from the morning-singer's swelling throat. 
 Ah ! when she riseth from her blissful bed 
 
 She comforts all the world, as doth the sun. 
 And at her sight the night's foul vapour's fled; 
 
 When she is set, the gladsome day is done. 
 O glorious sun, imagine me the west. 
 Shine in my arms, and set thou in my breast! 
 
 R. Greene 
 
 I JO. Since First I Saw Your Face 
 
 OINCE first I saw your face I resolved to honour and 
 
 ^^ renown ye; 
 
 If now I am disdained I wish my heart had never known 
 
 ye- 
 
 What ? I that loved and you that liked, shall we begin tc 
 
 wrangle ? 
 No, no, no, my heart is fast, and cannot disentangle. 
 
 If I admire or praise you too much, that fault you ma) 
 
 forgive me ; 
 Or if my hands had strayed but a touch, then justly might 
 
 you leave me. 
 
 121 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 I asked you leave, you bade me love; is't now a time to 
 
 chide me ? 
 No, no, no, I'll love you still what fortune e'er betide me. 
 
 The sun, whose beams most glorious are, rejecteth no be- 
 holder. 
 
 And your sweet beauty past compare made my poor eyes 
 the bolder: 
 
 Where beauty moves and wit delights and signs of kindness 
 bind me, 
 
 There, O there! where'er I go I'll leave my heart behind 
 me! 
 
 Anon. 
 
 131. Beauty and Rhyme 
 
 'X "^THEN in the chronicle of wasted time 
 
 '^ * I see descriptions of the fairest wights. 
 And beauty making beautiful old rime 
 In praise of Ladies dead and lovely Knights; 
 Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best. 
 Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, 
 I see their antique pen would have exprest 
 Even such a beauty as you master now. 
 So all their praises are but prophecies 
 Of this our time, all you prefiguring; 
 And for they looked but with divining eyes, 
 They had not skill enough your worth to sing: 
 For we, who now behold these present days. 
 Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise. 
 W. Shakespeare 
 122 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 1^2, Shall I Compare Thee to a Summers 
 Day? 
 
 OHALL I compare thee to a Summer's day? 
 ^^ Thou art more lovely and more temperate: 
 Rough winds do shake the darhng buds of May, 
 And Summer's lease hath all too short a date: 
 Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, 
 And often is his gold complexion dimmed; 
 And every fair from fair sometime declines. 
 By chance or nature's changing course untrimmed. 
 But thy eternal Summer shall not fade 
 Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest; 
 Nor shall Death brag thou wanderest in his shade, 
 When in eternal lines to time thou growest: 
 So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see. 
 So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 133. Mark When She Smiles 
 
 A /TARK when she smiles with amiable cheer, 
 ^^ ^ And tell me whereto can ye liken it — 
 When on each eyelid sweetly do appear 
 An hundred Graces as in shade to sit ? 
 Likest it seemeth to my simple wit 
 Unto the fair sunshine in summer's day, 
 That, when a dreadful storm away is flit, 
 Through the broad world doth spread his goodly ray: 
 At sight whereof each bird that sits on spray, 
 
 123 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 And every beast that to his den was fled, 
 Comes forth afresh out of their late dismay, 
 And to the Hght lift up their drooping head. 
 So my storm-beaten heart likewise is cheer'd 
 With that sunshine when cloudy looks are clear'd. 
 
 E. Spenser 
 
 134. Beauty Clear and Fair 
 
 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 life, perpetual bliss, — 
 
 Make me live by serving you! 
 
 Dear, again back recall 
 
 To this light, 
 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. 
 
 7. FleUhet 
 124 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 /J5. Beauty s Triumph 
 
 T IKE two proud armies marching in the field, 
 
 -'-^ Joining in the thundering fight, each scorns to yield ; 
 
 So in my heart, your beauty and my reas(jn. 
 
 One claims the crown, the other says 'tis treason. 
 
 But O ! your beauty shineth as the sun ; 
 
 And dazzled reason yields as quite undone. 
 
 A 
 
 non. 
 
 136. The Unlading Beauty 
 
 TTE 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. 
 
 T . Carew 
 
 137. Perfect Beauty 
 
 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! 
 
 125 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 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, 
 
 ^1 beauty, and without a spot! 
 
 B. Jonson 
 
 ij8. Beauty s Epitome 
 
 T^^HY should this a desert be? 
 ^ ^ For it is unpeopled ? No ; 
 Tongues ril hang on every tree. 
 
 That shall civil sayings show. 
 Some, how brief the life of man 
 
 Runs his erring pilgrimage; 
 That the stretching of a span 
 
 Buckles in his sum of age. 
 Some, of violated vows 
 
 'Twixt the souls of friend and friend; 
 But upon the fairest boughs. 
 
 Or at every sentence' end. 
 Will I Rosalinda write, 
 
 Teaching all that read to know 
 The quintessence of every sprite 
 
 Heaven would in little show. 
 Therefore heaven nature charged 
 
 That one body should be filled 
 With all graces wide-enlarged: 
 
 Nature presently distilled 
 Helen's cheek, but not her heart, 
 
 Cleopatra's majesty, 
 Atalanta's better part. 
 
 Sad Lucretia's modesty. 
 126 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Thus Rosalind of many parts 
 
 By heavenly synod was devised; 
 Of many faces, eyes, and hearts. 
 
 To have the touches dearest prized. 
 Heaven would that she these gifts should have, 
 And I to live and die her slave. 
 
 W. Shakespeare .. 
 
 The Awakening 
 
 /^N a time the amorous Silvy 
 
 ^-^ Said to her shepherd, 'Sweet, hovs^ do ye ? 
 
 Kiss me this once and then God be with ye. 
 
 My sweetest dear ! 
 Kiss me this once and then God be with ye. 
 For now the morning draweth near.' 
 
 With that, her fairest bosom showing, 
 Op'ning her lips, rich perfumes blowing, 
 She said, ' Now kiss me and be going. 
 
 My sweetest dear! 
 Kiss me this once and then be going. 
 For now the morning draweth near.' 
 
 •With that the shepherd waked fiom sleeping, 
 And spying where the day was peeping, 
 Hf.' said, * Now take my soul in keeping, 
 
 My sweetest dear \ 
 Kiss me and take my soul in keeping. 
 Since I must go, now day is near.* 
 
 Anon, 
 127 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 140. Vivamus Mea Lesbia, Atque Amemus 
 
 IV /TY 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. 
 
 T. Campion 
 
 141, Vivamus 
 
 /'^OME, my Celiac let us prove, 
 ^^ While we may the sports of Love ; 
 Time will not be ours for ever, 
 He at length our good will sever. 
 128 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Spend not then his gifts in vain: 
 Suns that set may rise again; 
 But if once we lose this hght, 
 'Tis 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. 
 
 So removed by our wile ? 
 
 *Tis no sin Love's fruit to steal. 
 
 But the sweet theft to reveal : 
 To be taken, to be seen. 
 These have crimes accounted been. 
 
 B. yonsori 
 
 142. Love 
 
 T OVE bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back, 
 
 ^-^ Guilty of dust and sin. 
 
 But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack 
 
 From my first entrance in, 
 Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning 
 
 If I lacked anything. 
 
 * A guest,' I answered, * worthy to be here : * 
 
 Love said, ' You shall be he.' 
 ' I, the unkind, ungrateful ? Ah, my dear, 
 
 I cannot look on Thee.' 
 Love took my hand and smiling did reply, 
 
 * Who made the eyes but I ? ' 
 
 129 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 * Truth, Lord ; but I have marred them : let my shame 
 
 Go where it doth deserve.' 
 'And know you not,' says Love, 'Who bore the blame ?' 
 
 * My dear, then I will serve.' 
 ' You must sit down,' says Love, ' and taste my meat.' 
 
 So I did sit and eat. 
 
 G. Herbert 
 
 143. Mullidofs Madrigal 
 
 DILDIDO, dildido, 
 O love, O love, 
 I feel thy rage rumble below and above 1 
 
 In summer-time I saw a face, 
 
 Trop belle pour moi, helas, helas! 
 
 Like to a stoned-horse was her pace : 
 Was ever young man so dismayed ? 
 
 Her eyes, like wax-torches, did make me afraid: 
 Trop belle pour mot, voila mon trepas. 
 
 Thy beauty, my love, exceedeth supposes; 
 Thy hair is a nettle for the nicest roses. 
 
 Mon dieUy aide moil 
 That I with the primrose of my fresh wit 
 May tumble her tyranny under my feet: 
 
 He done ]e serai un jeune roif 
 Trop belle pour moi, helas ^ helas ^ 
 Trop belle pour moi^ voila mon trepas. 
 
 R. Greene 
 13a 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 144. A Hymn in F raise of Neptune 
 
 /^F Neptune's empire let us sing, 
 ^-^ At whose command the waves obey: 
 To whom the rivers tribute pay, 
 Down the high mountains sliding: 
 To whom the scaly nation yields 
 Homage for the crystal fields 
 
 Wherein they dwell: 
 And every sea-god pays a gem 
 Yearly out of his wat'ry cell 
 To deck great Neptune's diadem. 
 
 The. Tritons dancing in a ring 
 
 Before his palace gates do make 
 
 The waters with their echoes quake, 
 
 Like the great thunder sounding: 
 
 The sea-nymphs chant their accents shrill, 
 
 And the sirens, taught to kill 
 
 With their sweet voice. 
 Make ev'ry echoing rock reply 
 Unto their gentle murmuring noise 
 The praise of Neptune's empery. 
 
 T. Campion 
 
 14^. On Spensefs '' Faerie Queene " 
 
 A /TETHOUGHT I saw the grave where Laura lay, 
 iVX Within that temple where the vestal flame 
 
 Was wont to burn; and passing by that way, 
 
 To see that buried dust of living fame 
 
 131 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Whose tomb fair Love and fairer Virtue kept, 
 All suddenly I saw the Faerie Queene : 
 At whose approach the soul of Petrarke wept, 
 And from thenceforth those Graces were not seen 
 (For they this Queen attended) ; in whose stead 
 Oblivion laid him down on Laura's hearse. 
 Hereat the hardest stones were seen to bleed. 
 And groans of buried ghosts the heavens did perse; 
 Where Homer's spright did tremble all for grief. 
 And curst the access of that celestial thief. 
 
 Str W. Raleigh 
 
 146. I] All the Pens That Ever Poets Held 
 
 TF all the pens that ever poets held 
 ^ Had fed the feeling of their master's thoughts. 
 And every sweetness that inspir'd their hearts. 
 Their minds, and muses, on admired themes; 
 If all the heavenly quintessence they 'still 
 From their immortal flowers of poesy. 
 Wherein as in a mirror we perceive 
 The highest reaches of a human wit; 
 If these had made one poem's period. 
 And all combined in beauty's worthiness, 
 Yet should there hover in their restless heads 
 One thought, one grace, one wonder at the least 
 Which into words no virtue can digest. 
 
 C. Marlowe 
 
 132 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 7^/. Lusty May 
 
 /^ LUSTY May, with Flora queen! 
 
 ^-^ The balmy dropis from Phoebus sheen 
 
 Preluciand beams before the day: 
 By that Diana growis green 
 
 Through gladness of this lusty May. 
 
 Then Esperus, that is so bricht, 
 Til woful hairtis castis his light, 
 
 With bankis that bloomis on every brae; 
 And schouris are shed forth of their sicht 
 
 Through gladness of this lusty May. 
 
 Birdis on bewis of every birth, 
 Rejoicing notis makand their mirth 
 
 Richt plesantly upon the spray. 
 With flourishingis o'er field and firth 
 
 Through gladness of this lusty May. 
 
 All luvaris that are in care 
 To their ladies they do repair 
 
 In fresh morningis before the day, 
 And are in mirth ay mair and mair 
 
 Through gladness of this lusty May. 
 
 1^8. When Flora Had O'erfret the Firth 
 
 QUHEN FLORA had o'erfret the firth 
 In May of every moneth queen; 
 Quhen merle and marvis singis with mirth 
 Sweet melling in the shawis sheen; 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Quhen all luvaris rejoicit bene 
 And most desirous of their prey, 
 
 I heard a lusty luvar mene 
 — ' I luve, but I dare nocht assay ! * 
 
 * Strong are the pains I daily prove, 
 
 But yet with patience I sustene, 
 I am so fetterit with the luve 
 
 Only of my lady sheen, 
 
 Quhilk for her beauty micht be queen. 
 Nature so craftily alway 
 
 Has done depaint that sweet serene: 
 
 — Quhom I luve I dare nocht assay. 
 
 * She is so bricht of hyd and hue 
 
 I luve but her alone, I ween; 
 Is none her luve that may eschew, 
 
 That blinkis of that dulce amene; 
 
 So comely cleir are her twa een 
 That she mae luvaris dois affray 
 
 Than ever of Greece did fair Helene : 
 
 — Quhom I luve I dare nocht assay ! ' 
 
 Anon. 
 
 I4p. In Youth Is Pleasure 
 
 TN a harbour grene aslepe whereas I lay, 
 
 -*- The byrdes sang swete in the middes of the day, 
 
 I dreamed fast of mirth and play: 
 
 In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure. 
 134 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Methought I walked still to and fro, 
 And from her company I could not go — 
 But when I waked it was not so: 
 
 In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure. 
 
 Therefore my hart is surely pyght 
 Of her alone to have a sight 
 Which is my joy and hartes delight: 
 
 In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure. 
 
 R. Wever 
 
 T^o. Come Hither, You That Love 
 
 /^^*OME hither, you that love, and hear me sing 
 
 ^^ Of joys still growing, 
 
 Green, fresh, and lusty as the pride of spring, 
 
 And ever blowing. 
 Come hither, youths that blush, and dare not know 
 
 What is desire; 
 And old men, worse than you, that cannot blow 
 
 One spark of fire; 
 And with the power of my enchanting song. 
 Boys shall be able men, and old men young. 
 
 Come hither, you that hope, and you that cry; 
 
 Leave off complaining; 
 Youth, strength, and beauty, that shall never die, 
 
 Are here remaining. 
 
 I3S 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Come hither, fools, and blush you stay so long 
 
 From being blest; 
 And mad men, worse than you, that suffer wrong. 
 
 Yet seek no rest; 
 And in an hour, with my enchanting song. 
 You shall be ever pleased, and young maids long. 
 
 J. Fletcher 
 
 151. A Nymph's Passion 
 
 T LOVE, and he loves me again, 
 •*■ Yet dare I not tell who; 
 For if the nymphs should know my swain, 
 I fear they'd love him too; 
 Yet if he be not known. 
 The pleasure is as good as none. 
 For that's a narrow joy is but our own. 
 
 I'll tell, that if they be not glad. 
 
 They may not envy me; 
 But then if I grow jealous mad 
 And of them pitied be. 
 
 It were a plague 'bove scori); 
 And yet it cannot be forborne 
 Unless my heart would, as my thought, be torn. 
 
 He is, if they can find him, fair 
 
 And fresh, and fragrant too. 
 As summer's sky or purged air, 
 And looks as lilies do 
 
 That are this morning blown: 
 Yet, yet I doubt he is not known. 
 And fear much more that more of him be shown. 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 But he hath eyes so round and bright, 
 
 As make away my doubt, 
 Where Love may all his torches light. 
 Though Hate had put them out; 
 
 But then t' increase my fears 
 What nymph soe'er his voice but hears 
 Will be my rival, though she have but ears. 
 
 I'll tell no more, and yet I love. 
 
 And he loves me; yet no 
 One unbecoming thought doth move 
 From either heart I knov^; 
 
 But so exempt from blame 
 As it would be to each a fame. 
 If love or fear would let me tell his name. 
 
 B. Jonson 
 
 1^2. A Madrigal 
 
 T^THEN in her face mine eyes I fix, 
 
 ^ ^ A fearful boldness takes my mind. 
 Sweet honey Love with gall doth mix. 
 And is unkindly kind : 
 It seems to breed. 
 And is indeed 
 A special pleasure to be pined. 
 No danger then I dread : 
 For though I went a thousand times to Styx, 
 I know she can revive me with her eye 
 As many looks, as many lives to me : 
 And yet had I a thousand hearts. 
 As many looks, as many darts. 
 Might make them all to die. 
 
 W. Alexander^ Earl of Stirling 
 137 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 IS3' A Welcome 
 
 JJ/'ELCOMEf welcome! do I sing^ 
 
 Far more welcome than the sprin^ 
 He that parteth from you never 
 Shall enjoy a spring for ever. 
 
 He that to the voice is near, 
 Breaking from your ivory pale, 
 
 Need not walk abroad to hear 
 The dehghtful nightingale. 
 
 Welcome, welcome, . . , 
 
 He that looks still on your eyes, 
 Though the winter have begun 
 
 To benumb our arteries, 
 
 Shall not want the summer's sun. 
 
 Welcome, welcome, . . . 
 
 He that still may see your cheeks. 
 Where all rareness still reposes, 
 
 Is a fool, if e'er he seeks 
 Other lilies, other roses. 
 
 Welcome, welcome, . . . 
 
 He 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, . . . 
 138 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 He that question would anew 
 What fair Eden was of old. 
 
 Let him rightly study you, 
 And a brief of that behold. 
 
 Welcome, tvelcome. 
 
 154. Phillis and Corydon 
 
 IDHILLIS kept sheep along the western plains, 
 -*■ And Corydon did feed his flocks hard by: 
 This shepherd was the flower of all the swains 
 
 That traced the downs of fruitful Thessaly; 
 And Phillis, that did far her flocks surpass 
 In silver hue, was thought a bonny lass. 
 
 A bonny lass, quaint in her country 'tire, 
 Was lovely Phillis, — Corydon swore so ; 
 
 Her locks, her looks, did set the swain on fire, 
 He left his lambs, and he began to woo; 
 
 He looked, he sighed, he courted with a kiss, 
 
 No better could the silly swad than this. 
 
 He little knew to paint a tale of love. 
 
 Shepherds can fancy, but they cannot say: 
 
 Phillis 'gan smile, and wily thought to prove 
 What uncouth grief poor Corydon did pay; 
 
 She asked him how his flocks or he did fare, 
 
 Yet pensive thus his sighs did tell his care. 
 
 139 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 The shepherd blushed when Phillis questioned so, 
 And swore by Pan it was not for his flocks; 
 
 " 'Tis love, fair Phillis, breedeth all this woe. 
 My thoughts are trapt within thy lovely locks; 
 
 Thine eye hath pierced, thy face hath set on fire; 
 
 Fair Phillis kindleth Corydon's desire." 
 
 " Can shepherds love ? " said Phillis to the swain. 
 
 " Such saints as Phillis," Corydon replied. 
 " Then when they lust can many fancies feign/* 
 
 Said Phillis. This not Corydon denied. 
 That lust had hes; " But love," quoth he, " says truth; 
 Thy shepherd loves, then, Phillis, what ensu'th ? " 
 
 Phillis was won, she blushed and hung the head ; 
 
 The swain stept to, and cheered her with a kiss : 
 With faith, with troth, they struck the matter dead; 
 
 So used they when men thought not amiss : 
 This love begun and ended both in one; 
 Phillis was loved, and she liked Corydon. 
 
 R. Greene 
 
 i^^. The Triumph of Charis 
 
 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. 
 140 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 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's smoother 
 
 Than words that soothe her! 
 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 o' the brier 
 
 Or the nard in the fire ? 
 Or have tasted the bag of the bee ? 
 O so white, O so soft, O so sweet is she! 
 
 B. Jonson 
 
 1^6. My Heart Is High Above 
 
 IV /TY heart is high above, my body is full of bliss, 
 
 ^^ -^ For I am set in luve as well as I would wiss; 
 
 I luve my lady pure and she luvis me again, 
 
 I am her serviture, she is my soverane; 
 
 She is my very heart, I am her howp and heill. 
 
 She is my joy invart, I am her luvar leal; 
 
 141 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 I am her bond and thrall, she is at my command; 
 
 I am perpetual her man, both foot and hand ; 
 
 The thing that may her please my body sail fulfil; 
 
 Quhatever her disease, it does my body ill. 
 
 My bird, my bonny ane, my tender babe venust. 
 
 My luve, my life alane, my liking and my lust ! 
 
 We interchange our hairtis in others armis soft, 
 
 Spriteless we twa depairtis, usand our luvis oft. 
 
 We mourn when licht day dawis, we plain the nicht is 
 
 short. 
 We curse the cock that crawis, that hinderis our disport. 
 I glowffin up aghast, quhen I her miss on nicht, 
 And in my oxter fast I find the bowster richt; 
 Then lanquor on me lies like Morpheus the mair, 
 Quhilk causes me uprise and to my sweet repair. 
 And then is all the sorrow forth of remembrance 
 That ever I had a-forrow in luvis observance. 
 Thus never do I rest, so lusty a life I lead, 
 Quhen that I list to test the well of womanheid. 
 Luvaris in pain, I pray God send you sic remeid 
 As I have nicht and day, you to defend from deid ! 
 Therefore be ever true unto your ladies free. 
 And they will on you rue as mine has done on me. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 757. Cards and Kisses 
 
 /^^UPID and my Campaspe play'd 
 ^-^ At cards for kisses — Cupid paid : 
 He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows. 
 His mother's doves, and team of sparrows; 
 142 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Loses them too; then down he throws 
 
 The coral of his Up, the rose 
 
 Growing on 's cheek (but none knows how); 
 
 With these, the crystal of his brow, 
 
 And then the dimple of his chin : 
 
 All these did my Campaspe win. 
 
 At last he set her both his eyes — 
 
 She won, and Cupid blind did rise. 
 
 O Love ! has she done this for thee ? 
 
 What shall, alas ! become of me ? 
 
 J.Lyly 
 
 158. A Conspiracy 
 
 O WEET Love, if thou wilt gain a monarch's glory, 
 "^ Subdue her heart who makes me glad and sorry: 
 Out of thy golden quiver 
 Take thou thy strongest arrow 
 That will through bone and marrow, 
 And me and thee of grief and fear deliver : — 
 But come behind, for if she look upon thee, 
 Alas ! poor Love, then thou art woe-begone thee ! 
 
 Anon. 
 
 iSg. What the Mighty Love Has Done 
 
 TTEAR, ye ladies that despise, 
 . -*- What the mighty Love has done; 
 Fear examples and be wise : 
 Fair Calisto was a nun; 
 
 ^43 
 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Leda, sailing on a stream 
 
 To deceive the hopes of man, 
 Love accounting but a dream, 
 Doted on a silver swan; 
 Danae, in a brazen tower, 
 Where no love was, loved a shower. 
 
 Hear, ye ladies that are coy. 
 
 What the mighty Love can do; 
 Fear the fierceness of the boy: 
 
 The chaste Moon he makes to woo; 
 Vesta, kindling holy fires, 
 
 Circled round about with spies, 
 Never dreaming loose desires. 
 Doting at the altar dies; 
 
 Ilion, in a short hour, higher 
 
 He can build, and once more fire. 
 
 J. Fletcher 
 
 t6o. Menaphon^s Song 
 
 COME say Love, 
 *^ Foolish Love, 
 
 Doth rule and govern all the gods: 
 I say Love, 
 Inconstant Love, 
 
 Sets men's senses far at odds. 
 Some swear Love, 
 Smooth-faced Love, 
 
 Is sweetest sweet that men can have: 
 I say Love, 
 Sower Love, 
 
 Makes virtue yield as beauty's slave. 
 144 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 A bitter sweet, a folly worst of all. 
 That forceth wisdom to be folly's thrall. 
 
 Love is sweet. — 
 Wherein sweet ? 
 
 In fading pleasures that do pain. 
 Beauty sweet: 
 Is that sweet 
 
 That yieldeth sorrow for a gain ? 
 If Love's sweet, 
 Herein sweet, 
 
 That minute's joys are monthly woes. 
 'Tis not sweet, 
 That is sweet 
 
 Nowhere but where repentance grows. 
 Then love who list, if beauty be so sower; 
 Labour for me, Love rest in prince's bower. 
 
 R. Greene 
 
 t6i. Lovers Keys 
 
 T JNQUIET thoughts, your civil slaughter stint, 
 ^^ And wrap your wrongs within a pensive heart; 
 And you, my tongue, that makes my mouth a mint 
 And stamps my thoughts to coin them words by art. 
 Be still ! for if you ever do the like, 
 I'll cut the string that makes the hammer strike. 
 But what can stay my thoughts they may not start .? 
 Or put my tongue in durance for to die .? 
 Whenas these eyes, the keys of mouth and heart, 
 Open the lock where all my love doth lie; 
 I'll seal them up within their lids for ever: 
 So thoughts and words and looks shall die together. 
 
 Anon, 
 145 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 162, Love's Harvesters 
 
 A LL ye that lovely lovers be 
 "*- ^ Pray you for me : 
 Lo here v^e come a-sowing, a-sowing, 
 And sow^ sweet fruits of love; 
 In your sweet hearts well may it prove! 
 
 Lo here we come a-reaping, a-reaping, 
 To reap our harvest fruit ! 
 And thus we pass the year so long, 
 And never be we mute. 
 
 G. Peele 
 
 163. The Douht Which Ye Misdeem 
 
 'T^HE doubt which ye misdeem, fair love, is vain, 
 -■- That fondly fear to lose your liberty; 
 When, losing one, two liberties ye gain. 
 And make him bond that bondage erst did fly. 
 Sweet be the bands, the which true love doth tie, 
 Without constraint, or dread of any ill: 
 The gentle bird feels no captivity 
 Within her cage, but sings, and feeds her fill. 
 There pride dare not approach, nor discord spill 
 The league 'twixt them that loyal love hath bound; 
 But simple truth, and mutual good will, 
 Seeks with sweet peace to salve each other's wound : 
 There Faith doth fearless dwell in brazen tower, 
 And spotless Pleasure builds her sacred bower. 
 
 E. Spenser 
 146 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 i6/f.. Via Amoris 
 
 TTIGH-WAY, since you my chief Parnassus be, 
 -*- -*■ And that my Muse, to some ears not unsweet, 
 Tempers her words to trampHng horses' feet 
 More oft than to a chamber melody, — 
 Now blessed you bear onward blessed me 
 To her, where I my heart, safe-let, shall meet; 
 My Muse and I must you of duty greet 
 With thanks and wishes, wishing thankfully; 
 Be you still fair, honour'd by public heed; 
 By no encroachment wrong'd, nor time forgot; 
 Nor blamed for blood, nor shamed for sinful deed; 
 And that you know I envy you no lot 
 Of highest wish, I wish you so much bliss, — 
 Hundreds of years you Stella's feet may kiss ! 
 
 Sir P. Sidney 
 
 i6^. Orpheus I Am, Come from the 
 Deeps Below 
 
 /~\RPHEUS I am, come from the deeps below, 
 
 ^-^ To thee, fond man, the plagues of love tdj^show, 
 
 To the fair fields where loves eternal dwell 
 
 There's none that come, but first they pass through hell : 
 
 Hark, and beware ! unless thou hast loved, ever 
 
 Beloved again, thou shalt see those joys never. 
 
 Hark how they groan that died despairing! 
 
 Oh, take heed, then ! 
 Hark how they howl for over-daring! 
 
 All these were men. 
 
 147 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 They that be fools, and die for fame, 
 They lose their name; 
 And they that bleed, 
 Hark how they speed ! 
 
 Now in cold frosts, now scorching fires 
 They sit, and curse their lost desires; 
 Nor shall these souls be free from pains and fears, 
 Till women waft them over in their tears. 
 
 J. Fletcher 
 
 i66. ril Never Love Thee More 
 
 IV /TY dear and only Love, I pray 
 iVi Xhat little world of thee 
 Be governed by no other sway 
 
 Than purest monarchy; 
 For if confusion have a part 
 
 (Which virtuous souls abhor), 
 And hold a synod in thine heart, 
 
 I'll never love thee more. 
 
 Like Alexander I will reign. 
 
 And I will reign alone; 
 My thoughts did ever more disdain 
 
 A rival on the throne. 
 He either fears his fate too much, 
 
 Or his deserts are small. 
 That dares not put it to the touch, 
 
 To gain or lose it all. 
 148 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 And in the empire of thin? heart, 
 
 Where I should solely be. 
 If others do pretend a part 
 
 Or dare to vie with me. 
 Or if Committees thou erect, 
 
 And go on such a score, 
 I'll laugh and sing at thy neglect. 
 
 And never love thee more. 
 
 But if thou wilt prove faithful then 
 
 And constant of thy word, 
 I'll make thee glorious by my pen 
 
 And famous by my sword ; 
 I'll serve thee in such noble ways 
 
 Was never heard before; 
 I'll crown and deck thee all with bays, 
 
 And love thee more and more. 
 
 J. Graham, Marquis of Montrose 
 
 i6y. Love's College 
 
 f~\ CUPID ! monarch over kings, 
 ^-^ Wherefore hast thou feet and wings ? 
 It is to show how swift thou art 
 When thou wound'st a tender heart! 
 
 Thy wings being dipt, and feet held still. 
 
 Thy bow so many could not kill. 
 
 It is all one in Venus' wanton school, 
 Who highest sits, the wise man or the fool. 
 
 Fools in love's college 
 
 Have far more knowledge 
 
 149 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 To read a woman over 
 Than a neat prating lover: 
 
 Nay, 'tis confest 
 That fools please women best. 
 
 7- Lyly 
 
 i68. Wily Cupid 
 
 THRUST not his wanton tears, 
 -^ Lest they beguile ye; 
 Trust not his childish sigh, 
 
 He breatheth slily. 
 Trust not his touch, 
 
 His feeling may defile ye; 
 Trust nothing that he doth. 
 
 The wag is wily. 
 If you suffer him to prate. 
 You will rue it over-late. 
 
 Beware of him, for he is witty; 
 Quickly strive the boy to bind, 
 Fear him not, for he is blind : 
 
 If he get loose, he shows nO pity. 
 
 H. Chettle 
 
 i6g. Madrigal 
 
 To Cupid 
 
 T OVE, if a god thou art, 
 -* — ' Then evermore thou must 
 Be merciful and just. 
 If thou be just, O wherefore doth thy dart 
 Wound mine alone, and not my Lady's heart ? 
 150 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 If merciful, then why 
 
 Am I to pain reserved, 
 
 Who have thee truly served; 
 While she, that by thy power sets not a fly, 
 Laughs thee to scorn and lives in liberty ? 
 
 Then, if a god thou wouldst accounted be, 
 Heal me like her, or else wound her like me. 
 
 F. Davison 
 
 1^0. ^' Beware of Love " 
 
 nPHUS saith my Chloris bright, 
 -*- When we of love sit down and talk together: — 
 * Beware of Love, dear; Love is a walking sprite, 
 And Love is this and that, 
 And, O, I know not what. 
 And comes and goes again I wot not whither/ 
 No, no, — these are but bugs to breed amazing. 
 For in her eyes I saw his torchlight blazing. 
 
 Anon, 
 
 171. Uncertainty 
 
 TTOW many new years have grown old 
 -*' Since first your servant old was new; 
 
 How many long hours have I told 
 
 Since first my love was vowed to you; 
 
 And yet, alas, she does not know 
 
 Whether her servant love or no. 
 
 151 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 How many walls as white as snow, 
 And windows clear as any glass, 
 
 Have I conjured to tell you so, 
 Which faithfully performed was; 
 
 And yet you'll swear you do not know 
 
 Whether your servant love or no. 
 
 How often hath my pale, lean face, 
 With true characters of my love. 
 
 Petitioned to you for grace. 
 Whom neither sighs nor tears can move; 
 
 O cruel, yet do you not know 
 
 Whether your servant love or no. 
 
 And wanting oft a better token, 
 I have been fain to send my heart. 
 
 Which now your cold disdain hath broken. 
 Nor can you heal't by any art : 
 
 O look upon't, and you shall know 
 
 Whether your servant love or no. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 7/2. Dispraise of Love and Lovefs Follies 
 
 TF love be life, I long to die, 
 Live they that list for me; 
 And he that gains the most thereby, 
 
 A fool at least shall be. 
 But he that feels the sorest fits, 
 'Scapes with no less than loss of wits: 
 Unhappy life they gain. 
 Which love do entertain. 
 152 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 In day by feigned looks they live, 
 
 By lying dreams in night, 
 Each frown a deadly wound doth give, 
 
 Each smile a false delight. 
 If 't hap their lady pleasant seem, 
 It is for others' love they deem; 
 If void she seem of joy. 
 Disdain doth make her coy. 
 
 Such is the peace that lovers find. 
 
 Such is the life they lead. 
 Blown here and there with every wind. 
 
 Like flowers in the mead; 
 Now war, now peace, now war again, 
 Desire, despair, delight, disdain: 
 Though dead, in midst of life. 
 In peace, and yet at strife. 
 
 F\ Davison 
 
 17 J. If Women Could Be Fair and Yet 
 Not Fond 
 
 TF women could be fair and yet not fond, 
 -*■ Or that their love were firm, not fickle still, 
 I would not marvel that they make men bond 
 By service long to purchase their good will; 
 But when I see how frail those creatures are, 
 I laugh that men forget themselves so far. 
 
 To mark the choice they make, and how they change 
 How oft from Phoebus they do flee to Pan; 
 
 Unsettled still, like haggards wild they range. 
 These gentle birds that fly from man to man; 
 
 153 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Who would not scorn and shake them from the fist, 
 And let them fly, fair fools, which way they list ? 
 
 Yet for our sport we fawn and flatter both. 
 
 To pass the time when nothing else can please, 
 
 And train them to our lure with subtle oath. 
 Till, weary of our wiles, ourselves we ease; 
 
 And then we say when we their fancy try. 
 
 To play with fools, O what a fool was I ! 
 
 E. Vere, Earl of Oxford 
 
 ry^. Not Mine Own Fears 
 
 IVTOT mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul 
 -'^ ^ Of the wide world dreaming on things to come. 
 Can yet the lease of my true love control. 
 Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom. 
 The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured, 
 And the sad augurs mock their own presage; 
 Incertainties now crown themselves assured, 
 And peace proclaims olives of endless age. 
 Now with the drops of this most balmy time 
 My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes. 
 Since spite of him I'll live in this poor rhyme, 
 While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes : 
 And thou in this shalt find thy monument 
 When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 154 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 ^75' Whoever Thinks or Hopes of Love 
 jor Love 
 
 ^1 WHOEVER thinks or hopes of love for love, 
 ^ Or who beloved in Cupid's laws doth glorv 
 Who joys in vows or vows not to remove, 
 Who by this light god hath not been made sorry, — 
 Let him see me, eclipsed from my sun, 
 With dark clouds of an earth quite overrun. 
 
 Who thinks that sorrows felt, desires hidden, 
 Or humble faith in constant honour armed. 
 Can keep love from the fruit that is forbidden; 
 Who thinks that change is by entreaty charmed, — 
 Looking on me, let him know love's delights 
 Are treasures hid in caves but kept by sprites. 
 
 Jnon 
 
 iy6. Why Canst Thou Not 
 
 "\"X THY canst thou not, as others do. 
 
 Look on me with unwounding eyes r 
 And yet look sweet, but yet not so; 
 
 Smile, but not in killing wise; 
 Arm not thy graces to confound; 
 Only look, but do not wound. 
 
 Why should mine eyes see more in you 
 
 Than they can see in all the rest? 
 For I can others' beauties view. 
 And not find my heart opprest. 
 O be as others are to me, 
 Or, let me be more to thee. 
 
 y. Dame 
 ^55 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 777. The Impatient Maid 
 
 '\\TYiEH as the rye reach'd to the chin, 
 
 And chop cherry, chop cherry ripe within^ 
 Strawberries swimming in the cream. 
 And schoolboys playing in the stream; 
 Then O, then O, then O, my true love said, 
 Till that time come again 
 She could not live a maid ! G. P^^le 
 
 iy8. The Excuse 
 
 /'"^ALLING to mind, my eyes went long about 
 ^-^ To cause my heart for to forsake my breast; 
 All in a rage I sought to pull them out 
 As who had been such traitors to my rest: 
 
 What could they say to win again my grace ? — 
 Forsooth, that they had seen my Mistress' face. 
 
 Another time, my heart I called to mind, ^— 
 
 Thinking that he this woe on me had brought. 
 For he my breast the fort of love, resigned. 
 When of such wars my fancy never thought: 
 
 What could he say when I would have him slain ? 
 That he was hers, and had forgone my chain. 
 
 At last, when I perceived both eyes and heart 
 
 Excuse themselves as guiltless of my ill, 
 T found myself the cause of all my smart. 
 And told myself that I myself would kill: 
 Yet when I saw myself to you was true, 
 I loved myself, because myself loved you. 
 
 Sir jr. Raleigh 
 156 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 To Eledra 
 
 T DARE not ask a kiss, 
 ■^ I dare not beg a smile^ 
 Lest having that, or this, 
 
 I might grow proud the while. 
 
 No, no, the utmost share 
 
 Of my desire shall be 
 Only to kiss that air 
 
 That lately kissed thee. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 To (Enone 
 
 "X^THAT conscience, say, is it in thee 
 * * When I a heart had won. 
 
 To take away that heart from me, 
 And to retain thy own ? 
 
 For shame or pity now incline 
 
 To play a loving part; 
 Either to send me kindly thine, 
 
 Or give me back my heart. 
 
 Covet not both; but if thou dost 
 
 Resolve to part with neither, 
 Why, yet to show that thou art just. 
 Take me and mine together! 
 
 R, Herrici 
 157 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 i8i. The Satyfs Leave-Taking 
 
 nr*HOU divinest, fairest, brightest, 
 ■*■• Thou most powerful maid, and whitest, 
 Thou most virtuous and most blessed, 
 Eyes of stars, and golden-tressed 
 Like Apollo! tell me, sweetest. 
 What new service now is meetest 
 For the Satyr ? Shall I stray 
 In the middle air, and stay 
 The sailing rack, or nimbly take 
 Hold by the moon, and gently make 
 Suit to the pale queen of night 
 For a beam to give thee light ? 
 Shall I dive into the sea. 
 And bring thee coral, making way 
 Through the rising waves that fall 
 In snowy fleeces ? Dearest, shall 
 I catch thee wanton fawns, or flies 
 Whose woven wings the summer dyes 
 Of many colours ? get thee fruit. 
 Or steal from Heaven old Orpheus' lute ? 
 All these I'll venture for, and more. 
 To do her service all these woods adore. 
 
 Holy Virgin, I will dance 
 Round about these woods as quick 
 As the breaking light, and prick 
 Down the lawns and down the vales 
 Faster than the wind-mill sails. 
 158 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 So 1 take my leave, and pray 
 All the comforts of the day, 
 Such as Phoebus' heat doth send 
 On the earth, may still befriend 
 Thee, and this arbour! 
 
 J. Fletche^ 
 
 The Satyr and Clorin 
 
 ' I ^H ROUGH yon same bending plain 
 "*- That flings his arms down to the main; 
 And through these thick woods have I run, 
 Whose bottom never kissed the sun 
 Since the lusty spring began. 
 All to please my Master Pan, 
 Have I trotted without rest 
 To get him fruit; for at a feast 
 He entertains, this coming night, 
 His paramour, the Syrinx bright. 
 But, behold a fairer sight! 
 By that heavenly form of thine, 
 Brightest fair, thou art divine. 
 Sprung from great immortal race 
 Of the gods; for in thy face 
 Shines more awful majesty. 
 Than dull weak mortality 
 Dare with misty eyes behold. 
 And live: therefore on this mould 
 Lowly do I bend my knee 
 In worship of thy deity. 
 Deign it, goddess, from my hand. 
 To receive whate'er this land 
 
 1 59 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 From her fertile womb doth send 
 
 Of her choice fruits; and but lend 
 
 Belief to that the Satyr tells: 
 
 Fairer by the famous wells 
 
 To this present day ne'er grew, 
 
 Never better, nor more true. 
 
 Here be grapes, whose lusty blood 
 
 Is the learned poet's good. 
 
 Sweeter yet did never crown 
 
 The head of Bacchus; nuts more brown 
 
 Than the squirrel's teeth that crack them; 
 
 Deign, oh fairest fair, to take them ! 
 
 For these black-eyed Dryope 
 
 Hath often-times commanded me 
 
 With my clasped knee to climb : 
 
 See how well the lusty time 
 
 Hath decked their rising cheeks in red, 
 
 Such as on your lips is spread ! 
 
 Here be berries for a queen. 
 
 Some be red, some be green; 
 
 These are of that luscious meat, 
 
 The great god Pan himself doth eat: 
 
 All these, and what the woods can yield, 
 
 The hanging mountain, or the field, 
 
 I freely offer, and ere long 
 
 Will bring you more, more sweet and strong; 
 
 Till when, humbly leave I take, 
 
 Lest the great Pan do awake. 
 
 That sleeping lies in a deep glade. 
 
 Under a broad beech's shade. 
 
 I must go, I must run 
 
 Swifter than the fiery sun. J. Fletcher 
 
 1 60 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 i8j. Song 
 
 invOUBT you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth; 
 ^^ Which now my breast o'ercharged to music lendeth i 
 To you! to you! all song of praise is due: 
 Only in you, my song begins and endeth. 
 
 Who hath the eyes which marry State with Pleasure ? 
 Who keeps the key of Nature's chiefest treasure ? 
 To you ! to you ! all song of praise is due : 
 Only for you, the heaven forgat all measure. 
 
 Who hath the lips, where Wit in fairness reigneth ? 
 Who womankind at once both decks and staineth ? 
 To you ! to you ! all song of praise is due : 
 Only by you, Cupid his crown maintaineth. 
 
 Who hath the feet, whose step all sweetness planteth ? 
 Who else, for whom Fame worthy trumpets wanteth ? 
 To you ! to you ! all song of praise is due : 
 Only to you, her sceptre Venus granteth. 
 
 Who hath the breast, whose milk doth passions nourish ? 
 Whose grace is such, that when it chides doth cherish ? 
 To you! to you! all song of praise is due: 
 Only through you, the tree of life doth flourish. 
 
 Who hath the hand, which without stroke subdueth ? 
 Who long-dead beauty with increase reneweth t 
 To you ! to you ! all song of praise is due : 
 Only at you, all envy hopeless rueth. 
 
 i6i 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Who hath the hair, which loosest fastest tieth ? 
 Who makes a man Hve, then glad when he dieth ? 
 To you! to you! all song of praise is due: 
 Only of you, the flatterer never lieth. 
 
 Who hath the voice, which soul from senses sunders ? 
 Whose force but yours the bolts of beauty thunders ? 
 To you ! to you ! all song of praise is due : 
 Only with you, not miracles are wonders. 
 
 Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth. 
 Which now my breast o'ercharged to music lendeth ? 
 To you! to you! all song of praise is due: 
 Only in you, my song begins and endeth. 
 
 Sir P. Sidney 
 
 184. Basia 
 
 ' I ""URN back, you wanton flyer, 
 -*- And answer my desire 
 
 With mutual greeting. 
 Yet bend a little nearer, — ■ 
 True beauty still shines clearer 
 
 In closer meeting. 
 Hearts with hearts delighted 
 Should strive to be united. 
 
 Each other's arms with arms enchaining: 
 Hearts with a thought. 
 
 Rosy lips with a kiss still entertaining. 
 162 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 What harvest half so sweet is 
 As still to reap the kisses 
 
 Grown ripe in sowing ? 
 And straight to be receiver 
 Of that v/hich thou art giver, 
 
 Rich in bestowing ? 
 There's no strict observing 
 Of times' or seasons' swerving, 
 
 There is ever one fresh spring abiding; 
 Then what we sow 
 
 With our lips let's reap, love's gains dividing, 
 T. Campion 
 
 185. A Canzon Pastoral in Honour of Her 
 Majesty 
 
 A LAS ! what pleasure, now the pleasant spring 
 "^ ^ Hath given place 
 To harsh black frosts the sad ground covering, 
 
 Can we, poor we, embrace. 
 When every bird on every branch can sing 
 
 Naught but this note of woe, Alas ? 
 Alas ! this note of woe why should we sound ? 
 With us, as May, September hath a prime; 
 Then, birds and branches, your Alas ! is fond, 
 Which call upon the absent summer-time. 
 
 For did flowers make our May, 
 
 Or the sunbeams your day. 
 When night and winter did the world embrace. 
 Well might you wail your ill and sing, Alas! 
 
 163 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Lo, matron-like the earth herself attires 
 
 In habit grave; 
 Naked the fields are, bloomless are the briars, 
 
 Yet we a summer have, 
 Who in our clime kindleth these living fires. 
 
 Which blooms can on the briars save. 
 No ice doth crystallize the running brook, 
 No blast deflowers the flower-adorned field. 
 Crystal is clear, but clearer is the look 
 Which to our climes these living fires doth yield. 
 
 Winter, though everywhere. 
 
 Hath no abiding here: 
 On brooks and briars she doth rule alone. 
 The sun which lights our world is always one. 
 
 E. Bolton 
 
 i86. Phoebe's Sonnet 
 
 Y)WN a down!' 
 Thus Phyllis sung 
 By fancy once distressed: 
 * Whoso by foolish love are stung. 
 Are worthily oppressed. 
 And so sing I, with a down, a down. 
 
 When Love was first begot 
 
 And by the mover's will 
 Did fall to human lot 
 
 His solace to fulfil. 
 Devoid of all deceit, 
 
 A chaste and holy fire 
 Did quicken man's conceit, 
 
 And woman's breast inspire. 
 164 
 
 D' 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 The gods that saw the good 
 
 That mortals did approve, 
 With kind and holy mood, 
 
 Began to talk of Love. 
 
 * Down a down ! ' 
 
 Thus Phyllis sung. 
 
 By fancy once distressed: 
 * Whoso by foolish love are stung. 
 Ate worthily oppressed. 
 And so sing /, with a down, a down. 
 
 But during this accord, 
 
 A wonder strange to hear; 
 Whilst Love in deed and word 
 
 Most faithful did appear, 
 False Semblance came in place. 
 
 By Jealousy attended, 
 And with a double face 
 
 Both Love and Fancy blended. 
 Which makes the gods forsake, 
 
 And men from fancy fly. 
 And maidens scorn a make. 
 
 Forsooth and so will L 
 
 * Down a down I ' 
 
 Thus Phyllis sung 
 
 By fancy once distressed : 
 'Whoso by foolish love are stung. 
 Are worthily oppress}d. 
 And so sing I, with down, a down, a down a.' 
 
 T. Lodge 
 165 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 i8y. Love's Deity 
 
 T LONG to talk with some old lover's ghost, 
 
 Who died before the god of love was born : 
 I cannot think that he, that then loved most, 
 
 Sunk so low as to love one which did scorn. 
 But since this god produced a destiny, 
 And that vice-nature, custom, lets it be, 
 I must love her that loves not me. 
 
 Sure they which made him god meant not so much. 
 Nor he in his young godhead practised it; 
 
 But when an even flame two hearts did touch, 
 His office was indulgently to fit 
 
 Actives to passives; correspondency 
 
 Only his subject was; it cannot be 
 
 Love, if I love who loves not me. 
 
 But every modern god will now extend 
 
 His vast prerogative as far as Jove; 
 To rage, to lust, to write too, to commend; 
 
 All is the purlieu of the god of love. 
 
 were we wakened by his tyranny 
 
 To ungod this child again, it could not be 
 
 1 should love her that loves not me. 
 
 Rebel and atheist, too, why murmur I, 
 
 As though I felt the worst that love could do ? 
 
 Love may make me leave loving, or might try 
 A deeper plague, to make her love me too, 
 
 Which, since she loves before, I am loath to see; 
 
 Falsehood is worse than hate; and that must be, 
 
 If she whom I love should love me. 
 
 y. Donne 
 i66 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 i88. A True Love 
 
 THAT sweet relief the showers to thirsty plants we 
 
 W^ 
 
 see, 
 What dear deUght the blooms to bees, my true love is to 
 
 me! 
 As fresh and lusty Ver foul Winter doth exceed — 
 As morning bright, with scarlet sky, doth pass the eve- 
 ning's weed — 
 As mellow pears above the crabs esteemed be — 
 So doth my love surmount them all, whom yet I hap to 
 
 see! 
 The oak shall olives bear, the lamb the lion fray. 
 The owl shall match the nightingale in tuning of her lay. 
 Or I my love let slip out of mine entire heart. 
 So deep reposed in my breast is she for her desart! 
 For many blessed gifts, O happy, happy land ! 
 Where Mars and Pallas strive to make their glory most to 
 
 stand 1 
 Yet, land, more is thy bliss that, in this cruel age, 
 A Venus' imp thou hast brought forth, so steadfast and 
 
 so sage. 
 Among the Muses Nine a tenth if Jove would make. 
 And to the Graces Three a fourth, her would Apollo 
 
 take. 
 Let some for honour hunt, and hoard the massy gold: 
 With her so I may live and die, my weal cannot be told. 
 
 N. Grim aid 
 
 167 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 i8g. A Rondel of Love 
 
 T O, quhat it is 'to love 
 
 ^-^ Learn ye that list to prove, 
 
 By me, I say, that no ways may 
 
 The ground of grief remove, 
 But still decay both nicht and day: 
 
 Lo, quhat it is to love ! 
 
 Love is ane fervent fire 
 
 Kindlit without desire. 
 Short pleasure, long displeasure. 
 
 Repentance is the hire; 
 Ane pure tressour without measour; 
 
 Love is ane fervent fire. 
 
 To love and to be wise, 
 
 To rage with good advice; 
 Now thus, now than, so gois the game, 
 
 Incertain is the dice; 
 There is no man, I say, that can 
 
 Both love and to be wise. 
 
 Flee always from the snare, 
 
 Learn at me to beware; 
 It is ane pain, and double trane 
 
 Of endless woe and care; 
 For to refrain that danger plain 
 
 Flee always from the snare. 
 
 J. Scott 
 
 i68 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 I go. Lovers Immortality 
 
 /'BROWNED with flowers I saw fair Amaryliss 
 ^^^ By Thyrsis sit, hard by a fount of crystal; 
 And with her hand, more white than snow or HHes, 
 On sand she wrote, 'My faith shall be immortal: 
 And suddenly a storm of wind and weather 
 Blew all her faith and sand away together. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 igi. Comfort 
 
 A 7[ THEN, in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes, 
 
 ^ I all alone beweep my outcast state, 
 And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, 
 And look upon myself, and curse my fate. 
 Wishing me like to one more rich in hope. 
 Featured like him, like him with friends possest, 
 Desiring this man's art and that man's scope. 
 With what I most enjoy contented least; 
 Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, — 
 Haply I think on Thee: and then my state, 
 Like to the Lark at break of day arising 
 From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate; 
 For thy sweet love rememb'red such wealth brings 
 That then I scorn to change my state with Kings. 
 
 fF. Shakespeare 
 
 169 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 ig2. As Ye Came from the Holy Land 
 
 A S ye came from the holy land 
 "^ ^ Of Walsinghame, 
 Met you not with my true love 
 By the way as you came ? 
 
 How should I know your true love^ 
 
 That have met many a one, 
 As I came from the holy land, 
 
 That have come, that have gone ? 
 
 She is neither white nor brown, 
 
 But as the heavens fair; 
 There is none hath her form divine 
 
 In the earth or the air. 
 
 Such a one did I meet, good sir, 
 
 Such an angelic face. 
 Who like a nymph, like a queen, did appear 
 
 In her gait, in her grace. 
 
 She hath left me here alone 
 
 All alone, as unknown, 
 Who sometime did me lead with herself, 
 
 And me loved as her own. 
 
 What's the cause that she leaves you alone 
 
 And a new way doth take, 
 That sometime did love you as her own, 
 
 And her joy did you make f 
 
 170 s 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 I have loved her all my youth, 
 
 But now am old, as you see: 
 Love likes not the falling fruit, 
 
 Nor the withered tree. 
 
 Know that Love is a careless child, 
 
 And forgets promise past: 
 He is blind, he is deaf when he list, 
 
 And in faith never fast. 
 
 His desire is a dureless content. 
 
 And a trustless joy; 
 He is won with a world of despair, 
 
 And is lost with a toy. 
 
 Of womankind such indeed is the love. 
 
 Or the word love abused. 
 Under which many childish desires 
 
 And conceits are excused. 
 
 But true love is a durable fire. 
 
 In the mind ever burning. 
 Never sick, never dead, never cold, 
 
 From itself never turning. 
 
 Str W. Raleigh 
 
 We Saw and Woo^d Each Othefs 
 
 Eyes 
 
 "X^TE saw and woo'd each other's eyes. 
 
 My soul contracted then with thine, 
 And both burnt in one sacrifice. 
 
 By which our marriage grew divine. 
 
 171 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Let wilder youths, whose soul is sense, 
 
 Profane the temple of delight, 
 And purchase endless penitence. 
 
 With the stoFn pleasure of one night. 
 
 Time's ever ours, while we despise 
 
 The sensual idol of our clay. 
 For though the sun do 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 opinions often err, 
 
 We'll court the modest smile of fame, 
 
 For sin's black danger circles her. 
 Who hath infection in her name. 
 
 Thus when to one dark silent room 
 Death shall our loving coffins thrust: 
 
 Fame will build columns on our tomb. 
 And add a perfume to our dust. 
 
 W. Hahington 
 
 ig4. Love Omnipresent 
 
 'T^URN I my looks unto the skies, 
 ^ Love with his arrows wounds mine eyes; 
 If so I gaze upon the ground. 
 Love then in every flower is found; 
 
 172 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Search I the shade to fly my pain, 
 He meets me in the shade again; 
 Wend I to walk in secret grove, 
 Ev'n there I meet with sacred Love; 
 If so I bain me in the spring, 
 Ev'n on the bank I hear him sing; 
 If so I meditate alone, 
 He will be partner of my moan; 
 If so I mourn, he weeps with me. 
 And where I am there he will be. 
 
 r. Lod 
 
 ig^. Lovefs Infiniteness 
 
 TF yet I have not all thy love, 
 ^ Dear, I shall never have it all; 
 I cannot breathe one other sigh to move. 
 Nor can entreat one other tear to fall; 
 And all my treasure, which should purchase thee, 
 Sighs, tears, and oaths, and letters, I have spent; 
 Yet no more can be due to me. 
 Than at the bargain made was meant: 
 If, then, thy gift of love was partial. 
 That some to me, some should to others fall. 
 Dear, I shall never have it all. 
 
 Or if then thou gavest me all. 
 
 All was but all which thou hadst then; 
 
 But if in thy heart since there be, or shall 
 
 New love created be by other men, 
 
 173 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Which have their stocks entire, and can in tears, 
 In sighs, in oaths, in letters outbid me, 
 
 This new love may beget new fears; 
 
 For this love was not vowed by thee, 
 And yet it was, thy gift being general: 
 The ground, thy heart, is mine; whatever shall 
 
 Grow there, dear, I should have it all. 
 
 Yet I would not have all yet; 
 
 He that hath all can have no more; 
 And since my love doth every day admit 
 New growth, thou shouldst have new rewards in store. 
 Thou canst not every day give me thy heart; 
 
 If thou canst give it, then thou never gav'st it : 
 Love's riddles are that, though thy heart depart, 
 It stays at home, and thou with losing sav'st it. 
 But we will love a way more liberal 
 Than changing hearts, — to join them; so we shall 
 Be one, and one another's All. 
 
 y. Donne 
 
 ip6. 
 
 The Full Love Is Hushed 
 
 IV /FY love is strengthened, though rrioreweak in seeming 
 ■^ -*■ I love not less, though less the show appear: 
 That love is merchandised whose rich esteeming 
 The owner's tongue doth publish everywhere. 
 Our love was new, and then but in the spring, 
 When I was wont to greet it with my lays; 
 As Philomel in summer's front doth sing 
 And stops her pipe in growth of riper days: 
 174 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Not that the summer is less pleasant now 
 Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night, 
 But that wild music burthens every bough, 
 And sweets grown common lose their dear delight. 
 Therefore, like her, I sometime hold my tongue, 
 Because I would not dull you with my song. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 igy. Love Me or Not 
 
 T OVE me or not, love her I must or die; 
 -* — ' Leave me or not, follow her needs must L 
 O that her grace would my wished comforts give ! 
 How rich in her, how happy should I live! 
 
 All my desire, all my delight should be 
 Her to enjoy, her to unite to me; 
 Envy should cease, her would I love alone: 
 Who loves by looks is seldom true to one. 
 
 Could I enchant, and that it lawful were. 
 Her would I charm softly that none should hear; 
 But love enforced rarely yields firm content: 
 So would I love that neither should repent. 
 
 T. Campion 
 
 ig8. The Love-Letter 
 
 A RT thou god to shepherd turned, 
 '^^" That a maiden's heart hath burned ? 
 Why, thy godhead laid apart, 
 Warr'st thou with a woman's heart .? 
 
 175 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Whiles the eye of man did woo me, 
 That could do no vengeance to me. 
 If the scorn of your bright eyne 
 Have power to raise such love in mine, 
 Alack, in me what strange effect 
 Would they work in mild aspect ? 
 Whiles you chid me, I did love; 
 How then might your prayers move ? 
 He that brings this love to thee. 
 Little knows this love in me: 
 And by him seal up thy mind; 
 Whether that thy youth and kind 
 Will the faithful offer take 
 Of me, and all that I can make; 
 Or else by him my love deny. 
 And then I'll study how to die. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 igg. The Silent Lover 
 
 )ASSIONS are liken'd best to floods and streams : 
 The shallow murmur, but the deep are dumb; 
 So, when aflPection yields discourse, it seems 
 
 The bottom is but shallow whence they come: 
 They that are rich in words, in words discover 
 That they are poor in that which makes a lover. 
 
 Sir W. Raletgh 
 
 200. Silence in Love 
 
 "VX 7"RONG not, sweet empress of my heart, 
 * ^ The merit of true passion. 
 With thinking that he feels no smart. 
 That sues for no compassion. 
 176 
 
 p. 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Silence in love bewrays more woe 
 Than words, though ne'er so witty; 
 
 A beggar that is dumb, you know, 
 May challenge double pity. 
 
 Then wrong not, dearest to my heart. 
 My true, though secret passion : 
 
 He smarteth most that hides his smart, 
 And sues for no compassion. 
 
 Sir W. Raleigh 
 
 201. A Devout Lover 
 
 T HAVE a mistress, for perfections rare 
 
 In every eye, but in my thoughts most fair. 
 Like tapers on the altar shine her eyes; 
 Her breath is the perfume of sacrifice; 
 And wheresoe'er my fancy would begin. 
 Still her perfection lets religion in. 
 We sit and talk, and kiss away the hours 
 As chastely as the morning dews kiss flowers: 
 I touch her, like my beads, with devout care, 
 And come unto my courtship as my prayer. 
 
 r. Randolph 
 
 202. Devotion 
 
 T^AIN would I change that note 
 -'- To which fond Love hath charm'd me 
 Long long ago to sing by rote, 
 Fancying that that harm'd me: 
 
 177 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Yet when this thought doth come, 
 * Love is the perfect sum 
 
 Of all delight/ 
 I have no other choice 
 Either for pen or voice 
 
 To sing or write. 
 
 Love ! they wrong thee much 
 That say thy sweet is bitter, 
 When thy rich fruit is such 
 
 As nothing can be sweeter. 
 Fair house of joy and bliss. 
 Where truest pleasure is, 
 I do adore thee: 
 
 1 know thee what thou art, 
 I serve thee with my heart. 
 
 And fall before thee. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 20 J. Being Your Slave 
 
 "DEING your slave, what should I do but tend 
 -'-^ Upon the hours and times of your desire ? 
 I have no precious time at all to spend. 
 Nor services to do, till you require. 
 Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour 
 Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for yoUp 
 Nor think the bitterness of absence sour 
 When you have bid your servant once adieu: 
 Nor dare I question with my jealous thought 
 Where you may be, or your affairs suppose, 
 178 
 
 \ 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought 
 Save, where you are how happy you make those! 
 So true a fool is love, that in your Will 
 Though you do anything, he thinks no ill. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 204. Were My Heart As Some Men's A re 
 
 ^^TERE my heart as some men's are, thy errors would 
 
 ^ ^ not move me. 
 
 But thy faults I curious find, and speak because I love thee : 
 Patience is a thing divine, and far, I grant, above me. 
 
 Foes sometimes befriend us more, our blacker deeds ob- 
 jecting. 
 
 Than th' obsequious bosom-guest with false respect affect- 
 ing: 
 
 Friendship is the Glass of Truth, our hidden stains detect- 
 ing. 
 
 While I use of eyes enjoy, and inward light of reason, 
 Thy observer will I be and censor, but in season : 
 Hidden mischief to conceal in State and Love is treason. 
 
 T. Campion 
 
 20^. Love's Casuistry 
 
 TF love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love ? 
 Ah, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vow'd ! 
 Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll faithful prove; 
 Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like osiers bow'd. 
 
 179 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 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; 
 
 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 dreadful 
 thunder. 
 
 Which, not to anger bent, is music and sweet fire. 
 Celestial as thou art, O pardon love this wrong 
 That sings heaven's praise with such an earthly tongue. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 206. A Lovefs Lullaby 
 
 OING lullaby, as women do, 
 
 *^ Wherewith they bring their babes to rest; 
 And lullaby can I sing too. 
 
 As womanly as can the best. 
 With lullaby they still the child; 
 And if I be not much beguiled. 
 Full many a wanton babe have I, 
 Which must be still'd with lullaby. 
 
 First lullaby my youthful years, 
 
 It is now time to go to bed : 
 For crooked age and hoary hairs 
 
 Have won the haven within my head. 
 With lullaby, then, youth be still; 
 With lullaby content thy will; 
 180 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Since courage quails and comes behind, 
 Go sleep, and so beguile thy mind ! 
 
 Next lullaby my gazing eyes, 
 
 Which wonted were to glance apace; 
 
 For every glass may now suffice 
 To show the furrows in thy face. 
 
 With lullaby then wink awhile; 
 
 With lullaby your looks beguile; 
 
 Let no fair face, nor beauty bright. 
 
 Entice you eft with vain delight. 
 
 And lullaby my wanton will; 
 
 Let reason's rule now reign thy thought; 
 Since all too late I find by skill 
 
 How dear I have thy fancies bought; 
 With lullaby now take thine ease. 
 With lullaby thy doubts appease; 
 For trust to this, if thou be still, 
 My body shall obey thy will. 
 
 Thus lullaby my youth, mine eyes, 
 My will, my ware, and all that was: 
 
 I can no more delays devise ; 
 
 But welcome pain, let pleasure pass. 
 
 With lullaby now take your leave; 
 
 With lullaby your dreams deceive; 
 
 And when you rise with waking eye. 
 
 Remember then this lullaby. 
 
 G. Gascoigne 
 i8i 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 207. The Great Adventure 
 
 A S careful merchants do expecting stand, 
 ^ ^ After long time and merry gales of wind, 
 Upon the place where their brave ship must land : 
 So wait I for the vessel of my mind. 
 
 Upon a great adventure it is bound. 
 
 Whose safe return will valued be at more 
 
 Than all the wealthy prizes which have crown'd 
 The golden wishes of an age before. 
 
 Out of the East jewels of worth she brings; 
 
 Th' unvalued diamond of her sparkling eye 
 Wants in the treasures of all Europe's kings; 
 
 And were it mine, they, nor their crowns should buy. 
 
 The sapphires ringed on her panting breast 
 Run as rich veins of ore about the mould, 
 
 And are in sickness with a pale possess'd. 
 So true, for them I should disvalue gold. 
 
 The melting rubies on her cherry lip 
 
 Are of such power to hold, that as one day 
 
 Cupid flew thirsty by, he stoop'd to sip. 
 And fasten'd there could never get away. 
 
 The sweets of Candy are no sweets to me 
 
 When hers I taste; nor the perfumes of price, 
 
 Robb'd from the happy shrubs of Arabye, 
 As her sweet breath so powerful to entice. 
 182 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 O hasten then ! and if thou be not gone 
 Unto that wished traffic through the main, 
 
 My powerful sighs shall quickly drive thee on, 
 And then begin to draw thee back again. 
 
 If in the mean rude waves have it oppress'd 
 It shall suffice I ventured at the best. 
 
 W. Browne 
 
 208. Silvia 
 
 A ITHO is Silvia ? What is she , 
 
 * * That all our swains commend her .? 
 Holy, fair, and wise is she; 
 
 The heaven such grace did lend her 
 That she might admired be. 
 
 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 help'd, inhabits there. 
 
 Then to Silvia let us sing. 
 
 That Silvia is excelling; 
 She excels each mortal thing 
 
 Upon the dull earth dwelling: 
 To her let us garlands bring. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 20 g. To Chloe 
 
 Who for his sake wished herself -younger 
 
 nPHERE are two births; the one when Hght 
 ^ First strikes the new awaken'd sense; 
 The other when two souls unite, 
 
 And we must count our life from thence: 
 When you loved me and I loved you 
 Then both of us were born anew. 
 
 Love then to us new souls did give 
 
 And in those souls did plant new powers; 
 
 Since when another life we live, 
 
 The breath we breathe is his, not ours: 
 
 Love makes those young whom age doth chill, 
 
 And whom he finds young keeps young still. 
 
 W. Cartwright 
 
 210. To Roses in the Bosom of Castara 
 
 "\7E blushing virgins happy are 
 -■- In the chaste nunnery of her breasts — 
 
 For he'd profane so chaste a fair, 
 Whoe'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. 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 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 hath marble been to me. 
 
 W. Hahington 
 
 211. To Anthea, Who May Command Him 
 Anything 
 
 T)ID me to live, and I will live 
 ^-^ Thy Protestant to be; 
 Or bid me love, and I will give 
 A loving heart to thee. 
 
 A heart as soft, a heart as kind, 
 
 A heart as sound and free 
 As in the whole world thou canst find, 
 
 That heart I'll give to thee. 
 
 Bid that heart stay, and it will stay 
 
 To honour thy decree: 
 Or bid it languish quite away, 
 
 And 't shall do so for thee. 
 
 i8s 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Bid me to weep, and I will weep 
 
 While I have eyes to see: 
 And, having none, yet will I keep 
 
 A heart to weep for thee. 
 
 Bid me despair, and I'll despair 
 
 Under that cypress-tree : 
 Or bid me die, and I will dare 
 
 E'en death to die for thee. 
 
 Thou art my life, my love, my heart, 
 
 The very eyes of me: ' 
 And hast command of every part 
 
 To live and die for thee. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 212. ■ To Althea, from Prison 
 
 "X yl THEN Love with unconfined wings 
 
 * * Hovers within my gates. 
 And my divine Althea brings 
 
 To whisper at the grates; 
 When I lie tangled in her hair 
 
 And fetter'd 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; 
 186 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 When thirsty grief in wine we steep, 
 When healths and draughts go free^ 
 
 Fishes that tipple in the deep 
 Know no such Hberty. 
 
 When, hke committed hnnets, 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 liberty. 
 
 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. 
 
 R, Lovelace 
 
 j». Cupid's Hiding-Place 
 
 OWEET nymphs, if, as ye stray, 
 
 ^^ Ye find the froth-born goddess of the sea 
 
 All blubber'd, pale, undone. 
 
 Who seeks her giddy son. 
 
 That little god of love, 
 
 187 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Whose golden shafts your chastest bosoms prove. 
 Who, leaving all the heavens, hath run away; 
 If ought to him that finds him she'll impart, 
 Tell her he nightly lodgeth in my heart. 
 
 W. Drummond 
 
 21^. Fancy and Desire 
 
 f~^OyiE hither, shepherd's swain! 
 ^^ ' Sir, what do you require .? ' 
 I pray thee, shew to me, thy name! 
 ' My name is Fond Desire.' 
 
 When wert thou born. Desire ? 
 
 ' In pomp and prime of May.' 
 By whom, sweet boy, wert thou begot .? 
 
 ' By fond Conceit, men say.' 
 
 Tell me who was thy nurse ? 
 
 * Fresh Youth, in sugared joy.' 
 What was thy meat and -daily food ? 
 
 ' Sad sighs, with great annoy.' 
 
 What hadst thou then to drink .? 
 
 ' Unfeigned lovers' tears.' 
 What cradle wert thou rocked in ^ 
 
 ' In hope devoid of fears.' 
 
 What luU'd thee then asleep ? 
 
 ' Sweet speech, which likes me best.' 
 Tell me where is thy dwelling-place ? 
 
 ' In gentle hearts I rest.' 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 What thing doth please thee most ? 
 
 ' To gaze on beauty still.' 
 Whom dost thou think to be thy foe ? 
 
 * Disdain of my good-will.' 
 
 Doth company displease ? 
 
 * Yes, surely, many one.' 
 Where doth Desire delight to live .? 
 
 ' He loves to live alone.' 
 
 Doth either time or age 
 
 Bring him into decay ? 
 * No, no ! Desire both lives and dies 
 
 A thousand times a day.' 
 
 Then, Fond Desire, farewell ! 
 
 Thou art no mate for me; 
 I should be loth, methinks, to dwell 
 
 With such a one as thee. 
 
 E. Veriy Earl of Oxford 
 
 Corydon's Supplication 
 
 OWEET Phyllis, if a silly swain 
 ^^ May sue to thee for grace. 
 See not thy loving shepherd slain 
 
 With looking on thy face; 
 But think what power thou hast got 
 
 Upon my flock and me, 
 
 189 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Thou seest they now regard me not, 
 
 But all do follow thee. 
 And if I have so far presumed 
 
 With prying in thine eyes, 
 Yet let not comfort be consumed 
 
 That in thy pity lies; 
 But as thou art that Phyllis fair, 
 
 That fortune favour gives. 
 So let not love die in despair 
 
 That in thy favour lives. 
 The deer do browse upon the briar. 
 
 The birds do pick the cherries; 
 And will not Beauty grant Desire 
 
 One handful of her berries ? 
 If it be so that thou hast sworn 
 
 That none shall look on thee. 
 Yet let me know thou dost not scorn 
 
 To cast a look on me. 
 But if thy beauty make thee proud, 
 
 Think then what is ordained; 
 The heavens have never yet allowed 
 
 That love should be disdained. 
 Then lest the Fates that favour love 
 
 Should curse thee for unkind. 
 Let me report for thy behoove 
 
 The honour of thy mind; 
 Let Corydon with full consent 
 
 Set down what he hath seen. 
 That Phyllida with Love's content 
 
 Is sworn the shepherds' queen 
 
 N. Breton 
 
 190 
 
 ^Hi; 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 My Lady Greensleeves 
 
 A LAS ! my love, you do me wrong 
 -^^- To cast me off discourteously; 
 And I have loved you so long, 
 
 Delighting in your company. 
 For oh, Greensleeves was all my joy! 
 And oh, Greensleeves was my delight! 
 And oh, Greensleeves was my heart of gold ! 
 
 And who but my Lady Greensleeves ! 
 
 I bought thee petticoats of the best. 
 
 The cloth as fine as might be; 
 I gave thee jewels for thy chest. 
 
 And all this cost I spent on thee. 
 For oh, Greensleeves. . . . 
 
 Thy smock of silk, both fair and white. 
 With gold embroidered gorgeously: 
 
 Thy petticoat of sendal right: 
 And these I bought thee gladly. 
 For oh, Greensleeves . . . 
 
 Greensleeves now farewell ! adieu ! 
 
 God I pray to prosper thee ! 
 For I am still thy lover true: 
 Come once again and love me! 
 For oh, Greensleeves . . . 
 
 Anon. 
 
 191 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 21^. Ulysses and the Siren 
 
 Siren. /^~^OME, worthy Greek ! Ulysses, comCj 
 ^^ Possess these shores with me: 
 The winds and seas are troublesome, 
 
 And here we may be free. 
 Here may we sit and view their toil 
 
 That travail in the deep. 
 And joy the day in mirth the while, 
 
 And spend the night in sleep. 
 
 Ulysses. Fair Nymph, if fame or honour were 
 
 To be attain'd with ease, 
 Then would I come and rest with thee. 
 
 And leave such toils as these. 
 But here it dwells, and here must I 
 
 With danger seek it forth: 
 To spend the time luxuriously 
 
 Becomes not men of worth. 
 
 Siren. Ulysses, O be not deceived 
 
 With that unreal name; 
 This honour is a thing conceived, 
 
 And rests on others' fame: 
 Begotten only to molest 
 
 Our peace, and to beguile 
 The best thing of our life — our rest. 
 
 And give us up to toil. 
 
 192 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Ulysses. Delicious Nymph, suppose there were 
 
 No honour nor report, 
 Yet manliness would scorn to wear 
 
 The time in idle sport: 
 For toil doth give a better touch 
 
 To make us feel our joy. 
 And ease finds tediousness as much 
 
 As labour yields annoy. 
 
 Siren. Then pleasure likewise seems the shore 
 
 Whereto tends all your toil, 
 Which you forego to make it more, 
 
 And perish oft the while. 
 Who may disport them diversely 
 
 Find never tedious day, 
 And ease may have variety 
 
 As well as action may. 
 
 Ulysses. But natures of the noblest frame 
 
 These toils and dangers please; 
 And they take comfort in the same 
 
 As much as you in ease; 
 And with the thought of actions past 
 
 Are recreated still: 
 When Pleasure leaves a touch at last 
 
 To show that it was ill. 
 
 Siren. That doth Opinion only cause 
 That's out of Custom bred. 
 Which makes us many other laws 
 Than ever Nature did. 
 
 193 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 No widows wail for our delights, 
 
 Our sports are without blood; 
 The world we see by warlike wights 
 
 Receives more hurt than good. 
 
 Ulysses. But yet the state of things require 
 
 These motions of unrest; 
 And these great Spirits of high desire 
 
 Seem born to turn them best: 
 To purge the mischiefs that increase 
 
 And all good order mar: 
 For oft we see a wicked peace 
 
 To be well changed for war. 
 
 Siren. Well, well, Ulysses, then I see 
 I shall not have thee here: 
 And therefore I will come to thee, 
 
 And take my fortune there. 
 I must be won, that cannot win, 
 
 Yet lost were I not won; 
 
 For beauty hath created been 
 
 T' undo, or be undone. 
 
 5. Daniel 
 
 2i8.. On the Queen's Return from the Low 
 Countries 
 
 TT ALLOW the threshold, crown the posts anew! 
 ^ ^ The day shall have its due. 
 'Twist all our victories into one bright wreath, 
 On which let honour breathe; 
 194 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Then throw It round the temples of our Queen ! 
 Tis she that must preserve those glories green. 
 
 When greater tempests than on sea before 
 
 Received her on the shore; 
 When she was shot at * for the King's own good ' 
 
 By legions hired to blood; 
 How bravely did she do, how bravely bear ? 
 And show'd, though they durst rage, she durst not fear. 
 
 Courage was cast about her like a dress 
 
 Of solemn comeliness; 
 A gather'd mind and an untroubled face 
 
 Did give her dangers grace; 
 Thus, arm'd with innocence, secure they move 
 Whose highest 'treason' is but highest love. 
 
 W. Cartwrtght 
 
 2ig. Madrigal 
 
 A /TY love in her attire doth show her wit, 
 ^^ ^ It doth so well become her: 
 For every season she hath dressings fit, 
 
 For winter, spring, and summer. 
 
 No beauty she doth miss. 
 
 When all her robes are on: 
 
 But Beauty's self she is, 
 
 When all her robes are gone. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 195 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 220. Art Above Nature: To Julia 
 
 ■\1 7'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 shew 
 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 
 Dotes less on Nature than on Art. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 221. The Stately Dames of Rome Their 
 
 Pearls Did Wear 
 
 T^HE stately dames of Rome their pearls did wear 
 
 ^ About their necks to beautify their name : 
 But she whom I do serve, her pearls doth bear 
 Close in her mouth, and, smiling, shew the same. 
 No wonder, then, though every word she speaks 
 A jewel seem in judgment of the wise, 
 Since that her sugared tongue the passage breaks 
 196 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Between two rocks, bedecked with pearls of price. 
 
 Her hair of gold, her front of ivory — 
 
 A bloody heart within so white a breast — 
 
 Her teeth of pearl, lips ruby, crystal eye, 
 
 Needs must I honour her above the rest. 
 
 Since she is formed of none other mould 
 
 But ruby, crystal, ivory, pearl and gold. 
 
 G. Gascoigne 
 
 222, The Bracelet: To Julia 
 
 11 THY I tie about thy wrist, 
 
 ^ * Julia, this my silken twist; 
 For what other reason is't 
 But to show thee how, in part, 
 Thou my pretty captive art ? 
 But thy bond-slave is my heart: 
 Tis but silk that bindeth thee. 
 Knap the thread and thou art free; 
 But 'tis otherwise with me : 
 — I am bound and fast bound, so 
 That from thee I cannot go; 
 If I could I would not so. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 22 J. Upon Julians Recovery 
 
 "PNROOP, droop, no more, or hang the head, 
 ^^ Ye roses almost withered; 
 Now strength and newer purple get, 
 Each here declining violet; 
 
 197 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 O primroses ! let this day be 
 A resurrection unto ye, 
 And to all flowers allied in blood, 
 Or sworn to that sweet sisterhood : 
 For health on Julia's cheek hath shed 
 Claret and cream commingled; 
 And those her lips do now appear 
 As beams of coral, but more clear. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 224. Upon Combing Her Hair 
 
 13 REAKING from under that thy cloudy veil, 
 
 .Open and shine yet more, shine out more clear, 
 Thou glorious, golden-beam-darting hair, 
 Even till my wonder-stricken senses fail. 
 
 Shoot out in light, and shine those rays on far. 
 Thou much more fair than is the Queen of Love 
 When she doth comb her in her sphere above, 
 
 And from a planet turns a blazing star. 
 
 Nay, thou art greater too! More destiny 
 Depends on thee, than on her influence; 
 No hair thy fatal hand doth now dispence 
 
 But to some one a thread of life must be. 
 
 While gracious unto me, thou both dost sunder 
 Those glories which, if they united were. 
 Might have amazed sense, and shew'st each hair 
 
 Which, if alone, had been too great a wonder. 
 198 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 But stay ! methinks new beauties do arise 
 
 While she withdraws these glories which were spread 
 Wonder of beauties ! set thy radiant head, 
 
 And strike out day from thy yet fairer eyes. 
 
 Edward, Lord Herberty of Cherhury 
 
 22^, So Ojt As I Her Beauty Do Behold 
 
 00 oft as I her beauty do behold, 
 
 ^^ And therewith do her cruelty compare, 
 
 1 marvel of what substance was the mould. 
 The which her made at once so cruel fair, 
 
 Not earth, for her high thoughts more heavenly are; 
 
 Not water, for her love doth burn like fire; '• 
 
 Not air, for she is not so light or rare; 
 
 Not fire, for she doth freeze with faint desire. 
 
 Then needs another element inquire 
 
 Whereof she mote be made — that is, the sky; 
 
 For to the heaven her haughty looks aspire. 
 
 And eke her mind is pure immortal high. 
 
 Then, sith to heaven ye likened are the best. 
 
 Be like in mercy as in all the rest. 
 
 E. Spenser 
 
 226. Hey Nonny No! 
 
 T TEY nonny no! 
 -*- -*- Men are fools that wish to die ! 
 Is 't not fine to dance and sing 
 When the bells of death do ring ? 
 Is 't not fine to swim in wine, 
 
 199 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 And turn upon the toe, 
 
 And sing hey nonny no ! 
 
 When the winds blow and the seas flow ? 
 
 Hey nonny no! 
 
 Anon. 
 
 22y. Passions 
 
 TF Jove himself be subject unto Love 
 
 -*- And range the woods to find a mortal prey; 
 
 If Neptune from the seas himself remove, 
 
 And seek on sands with earthly wights to play: 
 Then may I love my peerless choice by right, 
 Who far excels each other mortal wight. 
 
 If Pluto could by love be drawn from hell. 
 
 To yield himself a silly virgin's thrall; 
 If Phoebus could vouchsafe on earth to dwell. 
 To win a rustic maid unto his call: 
 
 Then how much more should I adore the sight 
 Of her, in whom the heavens themselves delight ? 
 
 If country Pan might follow nymphs in chase. 
 
 And yet through love remain devoid of blame; 
 If Satyrs were excused for seeking grace 
 To joy the fruits of any mortal dame : 
 
 Then, why should I once doubt to love her still 
 On whom ne Gods nor men can gaze their fill ? 
 
 T. Watson 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 228. A Praise of His Love 
 
 /^"^IVE place, ye lovers, here before 
 
 ^^ That spent your boasts and brags in vain ; 
 
 My lady's beauty passeth more 
 
 The best of yours, I dare well sayen, 
 
 Than doth the sun the candle light 
 
 Or brightest day the darkest night. 
 
 And thereto hath a troth as just 
 As had Penelope the fair; 
 For what she saith, ye may it trust, 
 As it by writing sealed were: 
 And virtues hath she many moe 
 Than I with pen have skill to show. 
 
 I could rehearse, if that I would. 
 The whole effect of Nature's plaint. 
 When she had lost the perfect mould. 
 The like to whom she could not paint. 
 With wringing hands, how she did cry, 
 And what she said, I know it, I. 
 
 I know she swore with raging mind, 
 Her kingdom only set apart. 
 There was no loss by law of kind 
 That could have gone so near her heart, 
 And this was chiefly all her pain; 
 * She could not make the like again.' 
 
 201 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Sith Nature thus gave her the praise, 
 To be the chiefest work she wrought; 
 In faith, methink ! some better ways 
 On your behalf might well be sought. 
 Than to compare, as ye have done, 
 To match the candle with the sun. 
 
 Earl of Surrey 
 
 22g. 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 light 
 That downwards fall in dead of night; 
 For in your eyes they sit, and there 
 Fixed become as in their sphere. 
 202 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 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. 
 
 Go J Lovely Rose 
 
 T. Careiv 
 
 /~^0, 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 hadst 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. 
 
 Then die — that she 
 The common fate of all things rare 
 
 May read in thee; 
 How small a part of time they share 
 That are so wondrous sweet and fair! 
 
 E. Waller 
 203 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 231. My Ladys Presence Makes the Roses 
 Red 
 
 IV /TY Lady's presence makes the Roses red, 
 ^^ ^ Because to see her hps they blush for shame. 
 The Lily's leaves, for envy, pale became^ 
 For her white hands in them this envy bred. 
 The Marigold the leaves abroad doth spread. 
 Because the sun's and her power is the same. 
 The Violet of purple colour came, 
 , Dyed in the blood she made my heart to shed. 
 In brief all flowers from her their virtue take; 
 From her sweet breath, their sweet smells do proceed; 
 The living heat which her eyebeams doth make 
 Warmeth the ground, and quickeneth the seed. 
 The rain, wherewith she watereth the flowers. 
 Falls from mine eyes, which she dissolves in showers. 
 
 H. Constable 
 
 2J2. On Quicks edge, Wrought with 
 Lovely Eglantine 
 
 /^~\N quicksedge, wrought with lovely eglantine, 
 ^-^ My Laura laid her handkercher to dry; 
 Which had before snow-white ywashed been. 
 
 But, after, when she called to memory. 
 That long 'twould be before, and very late. 
 
 Ere sun could do, as would her glist'ring eyes: 
 She cast from them such sparkling glances straight. 
 
 And with such force, in such a strangy guise, 
 204 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 As suddenly, and in one selfsame time, 
 
 She dried her cloth: but burnt this heart of mine! 
 
 R. Tofte 
 
 2JJ. My Spotless Love Hovers with 
 Purest Wings 
 
 IV /FY spotless love hovers with purest wings, 
 -'■'-'- About the temple of the proudest frame, 
 Where blaze those lights, fairest of earthly things, 
 Which clear our clouded world with brightest flame. 
 My ambitious thoughts, confined in her face, 
 AflFect no honour but what she can give; 
 My hopes do rest in limits of her grace; 
 I weigh no comfort unless she relieve. 
 For she, that can my heart imparadise. 
 Holds in her fairest hand what dearest is; 
 My Fortune's wheel's the circle of her eyes. 
 Whose rolling grace deign once a turn of bliss. 
 
 All my life's sweet consists in her alone; 
 
 So much I love the most Unloving one. 
 
 S. Daniel 
 
 2J4. Fairest, When by the Rules of 
 Palmistry 
 
 "rj'AIREST, when by the rules of palmistry 
 • You took my hand to try if you could guess 
 By lines therein, if any wight there be 
 Ordained to make me know some happiness; 
 
 205 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 I wished that those characters could explain, 
 Whom I will never wrong with hope to win; 
 Or that by them a copy might be ta'en, 
 By you alone what thoughts I have within. 
 But since the hand of Nature did not set — 
 As providently loth to have it known — 
 The means to find that hidden alphabet, 
 Mine eyes shall be th' interpreters alone; 
 By them conceive my thoughts, and tell me, fair, 
 If now you see her, that doth love me there ? 
 
 W. Browne 
 
 ^35' Speak, Thou Fairest Fair 
 
 in^EAREST, do not you delay me, 
 *-^ Since, thou knowest, I must be gone; 
 Wind and tide, 'tis thought, doth stay me. 
 But 'tis wind that must be blown 
 From that breath, whose native smell 
 Indian odours far excel. 
 
 Oh, then speak, thou fairest fair! 
 
 Kill not him that vows to serve thee; 
 But perfume this neighbouring air. 
 Else dull silence, sure, will sterve me: 
 Tis a word that's quickly spoken, 
 Which being restrained, a heart is broken. 
 
 J. Fletcher 
 
 206 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Restore Thy Tresses 
 
 "D ESTORE thy tresses to the golden ore, 
 ^^ Yield Cytherea's son those arcs of love, 
 Bequeath the heavens the stars that I adore, 
 And to the orient do thy pearls remove, 
 Yield thy hands' pride unto the ivory white. 
 To Arabian odours give thy breathing sweet, 
 Restore thy blush unto Aurora bright. 
 To Thetis give the honour of thy feet; 
 Let Venus have thy graces her resigned. 
 And thy sweet voice give back unto the spheres; 
 But yet restore thy fierce and cruel mind 
 To Hyrcan tigers and to ruthless bears; 
 Yield to the marble thy hard heart again: 
 So shalt thou cease to plague, and I to pain. 
 
 S. Daniel 
 
 23"/. Do Me Right and Do Me Reason 
 
 TDEAUTY, alas! where wast thou born, 
 ■*-^ Thus to hold thyself in scorn ? 
 Whenas Beauty kissed to woo thee, 
 Thou by Beauty dost undo me: 
 Heigh-ho! despise me not. 
 
 I and thou in sooth are one, 
 Fairer thou, I fairer none: 
 Wanton thou, and wilt thou, wanton. 
 Yield a cruel heart to plant on ? 
 
 207 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Do me right, and do me reason; 
 
 Cruelty is cursed treason : 
 
 Heigh-ho ! I love, heigh-ho ! I love, 
 Heigh-ho ! and yet he eyes me not. 
 
 T. Lodge 
 
 2j8. Love Winged My Hopes 
 
 T OVE wing'd my Hopes and taught me how to fly 
 -^— ' Far from base earth, but not to mount too high : 
 
 For true pleasure 
 
 Lives in measure, 
 Which if men forsake. 
 Blinded they into folly run and grief for pleasure take. 
 
 But my vain Hopes, proud of their new-taught flight, 
 Enamour'd sought to woo the sun's fair light. 
 Whose rich brightness 
 Moved their lightness 
 To aspire so high 
 That, all scorch'd and consumed with fire, now drowned in 
 woe they lie. 
 
 And none but Love their woful hap did rue, 
 For Love did know that their desires were true; 
 Though Fate frowned, 
 And now drowned 
 They in sorrow dwell. 
 It was the purest light of heaven for whose fair love they fell. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 208 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 2sg. The Mad Maid's Song 
 
 /^OOD- MORROW to the day so fair, 
 ^-^ Good-morrow, sir, to you; 
 Good-morrow to mine own torn hair 
 Bedabbled with the dew. 
 
 Good-morrow to this primrose too, 
 
 Good-morrow to each maid 
 That will with flowers the tomb bestrew 
 
 Wherein my love is laid. 
 
 Ah ! woe is me, woe, woe is me, 
 
 Alack and well-a-day ! 
 For pity, sir, find out that bee 
 
 Which bore my love away. 
 
 I'll seek him in your bonnet brave, 
 
 I'll seek him in your eyes; 
 Nay, now I think they've made his grave 
 
 r th' bed of strawberries. 
 
 I'll seek him there; I know ere this 
 The cold, cold earth doth shake him, 
 
 But I will go or send a kiss 
 By you, sir, to awake him. 
 
 Pray hurt him not; though he be dead. 
 He knows well who do love him, 
 
 And who with green turfs rear his head, 
 And who do rudely move him. 
 
 209 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 He's soft and tender (pray take heed); 
 
 With bands of cowsHps bind him, 
 And bring him home; but 'tis decreed 
 
 That I shall never find him. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 240, Toss Not My Soul, O Love 
 
 npOSS not my soul, O Love, 'twixt hope and fear ! 
 -*- Show me some ground where I may firmly stand. 
 Or surely fall! I care not which appear. 
 So one will close me in a certain band. 
 When once of ill the uttermost is known. 
 The strength of sorrow quite is overthrown. 
 
 Take me, Assurance, to thy blissful hold ! 
 Or thou Despair, unto thy darkest cell ! 
 Each hath full rest: the one, in joys enroU'd; 
 Th' other, in that he fears no more, is well. 
 When once the uttermost of ill is known, 
 The strength of sorrow quite is overthrown. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 241. I] the Quick Spirits in Your Eye 
 
 TF the quick spirits in your eye 
 Now languish and anon must die; 
 
 If every sweet and every grace 
 
 Must fly from that forsaken face; 
 Then, Celia, let us reap our joys 
 Ere Time such goodly fruit destroys. 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Or if that golden fleece must grow 
 
 For ever free from aged snow; 
 
 If those bright suns must know no shade, 
 
 Nor your fresh beauties ever fade; 
 Then fear not, Celia, to bestow 
 What, still being gathered, still must grow. 
 
 Thus either Time his sickle brings 
 In vain, or else in vain his wings. 
 
 T. Carew 
 
 242. To the Blest Evanthe 
 
 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' 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 bless'd with her sweet tongue, 
 
 If these no other joys imply ? 
 
 A golden gyve, a pleasing wrong: 
 
 211 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 To be your "own but one poor month, I'd give 
 My youth, my fortune, and then leave to Hve. 
 
 J. Fletcher 
 
 2^j. Brunei and Phyllis 
 
 TF waker care, — if sudden pale colour, — 
 ^ If many sighs with little speech too plain, — 
 Now joy, now woe, if they my cheer distain, — 
 For hope of small, if much to fear therefore, — 
 To haste or slack my pace to less or more, — 
 Be sign of love, then do I love again. 
 If thou ask whom, — sure, since I did refrain 
 Brunet, that set my wealth in such a roar, 
 The unfeigned cheer of Phyllis hath the place 
 That Brunet had; — she hath, and ever shall. 
 She from myself now hath me in her grace; 
 She hath in hand my wit, my will, and all. 
 My heart alone well worthy she doth stay, 
 Without whose help scant do I live a day. 
 
 Sir r. Wyat 
 
 244. The Invitation 
 
 T IVE with me still, and all the measures 
 -' — ' Played to by spheres I'll teach thee; 
 Let's but thus dally, all the pleasures 
 
 The moon beholds, her man shall reach thee. 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Dwell in mine arms, aloft we'll hover, 
 And see fields of armies fighting: 
 
 Oh, part not from me! I'll discover 
 There all the 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. 
 
 r. Dekker 
 
 24^. Piping Peace 
 
 \/OU virgins that did late despair 
 
 -■- To keep your wealth from cruel men, 
 Tie up in silk your careless hair: 
 Soft peace is come again. 
 
 Now lovers' eyes may gently shoot 
 
 A flame that will not kill; 
 The drum was angry, but the lute 
 
 Shall whisper what you will. 
 
 Sing lo, lo ! for his sake 
 
 That hath restored your drooping heads; 
 With choice of sweetest flowers make 
 
 A garden where he treads; 
 
 Whilst we whole groves of laurel bring, 
 
 A petty triumph for his brow. 
 Who is the Master of our spring 
 And all the bloom we owe. 
 
 J. Shirley 
 213 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 246. The Solitary Shepherd'' s Song 
 
 /^ SHADY vales, O fair enriched meads, 
 ^-^ O sacred woods, sweet fields, and rising mountains ; 
 O painted flowers, green herbs, where Flora treads. 
 Refreshed by wanton winds and wat'ry fountains. 
 O all you winged choristers of wood 
 That perched aloft, your former pains report. 
 And straight again recount with pleasant mood 
 Your pleasant joys in sweet and seemly sort. 
 O all you creatures, whosoever thrive 
 On mother earth, in seas, by air, or fire. 
 More blest are you than I here under sun: 
 Love dies in me, whenas he doth revive 
 In you; I perish under beauty's ire. 
 Where after storms, winds, frosts, your life is won. 
 
 T. Lodge 
 
 24y. How Can the Heart Forget Her} 
 
 A T her fair hands how have I grace entreated 
 -^^^ With prayers oft repeated ! 
 Yet still my love is thwarted : 
 Heart, let her go, for she'll not be converted — 
 Say, shall she go ? 
 O no, no, no, no, no ! 
 She is most fair, though she be marble-hearted. 
 
 How often have my sighs declared my anguish. 
 Wherein I daily languish ! 
 Yet still she doth procure it : 
 Heart, let her go, for I can not endure it — 
 214 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Say, shall she go ? 
 O no, no, no, no, no ! 
 She gave the wound, and she alone must cure it. 
 
 But shall I still a true affection owe her, 
 
 Which prayers, sighs, tears do show her. 
 
 And shall she still disdain me ? 
 
 Heart, let her go, if they no grace can gain me - 
 
 Say, shall she go ? 
 
 O no, no, no, no, no ! 
 She made me hers, and hers she will retain me. 
 
 But if the love that hath and still doth burn me 
 
 No love at length return me. 
 
 Out of my thoughts I'll set her: 
 
 Heart, let her go, O heart I pray thee, let her! 
 
 Say, shall she go ? 
 
 O no, no, no, no, no ! 
 Fix'd in the heart, how can the heart forget her. 
 
 F. Davison 
 
 24.8. Chloris in the Snow 
 
 T SAW fair Chloris walk alone, 
 
 -*■ When feather'd rain came softly down. 
 
 As Jove descending from his Tower 
 
 To court her in a silver shower: 
 
 The wanton snow flew to her breast. 
 
 Like pretty birds into their nest, 
 
 215 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 But, overcome with whiteness there, 
 
 For grief it thaw'd into a tear: 
 
 Thence falHng on her garment's hem, 
 To deck her, froze into a gem. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 2^p. Camella 
 
 /"^AMELLA fair tripped o'er the plain, 
 ^-^ I followed quickly after; 
 Have overtaken her I would fain. 
 
 And kissed her when I caught her. 
 But hope being passed her to obtain, 
 
 * Camella ! ' loud I call : 
 
 She answered me with great disdain, 
 
 * I will not kiss at all.' 
 
 2^0. What Delight Can They Enjoy 
 
 \\7Y{AT delight can they enjoy 
 ^ ^ Whose hearts are not their own, 
 But are gone abroad astray 
 
 And to others' bosoms flown ? 
 Silly comforts, silly joy, 
 
 Which fall and rise as others move 
 
 Who seldom use to turn our way ! 
 
 And therefore Chloris will not love. 
 
 For well I see 
 
 How false men be, 
 
 And let them pine that lovers prove. 
 
 J. Daniel 
 216 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Boron's Jig 
 
 'T^HROUGH the shrubs as I can crack 
 -*- For my lambs, little ones, 
 *Mongst many pretty ones, — 
 Nymphs I mean, whose hair was black 
 As the crow: 
 Like the snow 
 Her face and browes shined I ween ! — 
 I saw a little one, 
 A bonny pretty one, 
 As bright, buxom, and as sheen 
 As was she 
 On her knee 
 That lulled the god, whose arrow warms 
 Such merry little ones, 
 Such fair-faced pretty ones 
 As dally in love's chiefest harms: 
 Such was mine, 
 • Whose grey eyne 
 Made me love. I gan to woo 
 This sweet little one. 
 This bonny pretty one. 
 I wooed hard a day or two. 
 Till she bade 
 * Be not sad. 
 Woo no more, I am thine own, 
 Thy dearest little one. 
 Thy truest pretty one.' 
 
 217 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Thus was faith and firm love shown. 
 As behoves 
 Shepherds' loves. 
 
 R. Greene 
 
 2^2, When, Dearest, I But Think of 
 Thee 
 
 "IT THEN, dearest, I but think of thee, 
 ^ * Methinks all things that lovely be 
 
 Are present and my soul delighted : 
 For beauties that from worth arise 
 Are like the grace of deities. 
 
 Still present with us, tho' unsighted. 
 
 Thus while I sit and sigh the day 
 With all his borrowed lights away. 
 
 Till night's black wings do overtake me, 
 Thinking on thee, thy beauties then. 
 As sudden lights do sleepy men, 
 
 So they by their bright rays awake me. 
 
 Thus absence dies, and dying proves 
 
 No absence can subsist with loves • 
 
 That do partake of fair perfection: 
 6ince in the darkest night they may 
 By love's quick motion find a way 
 
 To see each other by reflection. 
 
 The waving sea can with each flood 
 Bathe sorne high promont that hath stood 
 218 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Far from the main up in the river: 
 O think not then but love can do 
 As much ! for that's an ocean too, 
 
 Which flows not every day, but ever! 
 
 Str J. Suckling 
 
 2^ J. Beauty Bathing 
 
 T)EAUTY sat bathing by a spring, 
 ^ Where fairest shades did hide her; 
 The winds blew calm, the birds did sing, 
 
 The cool streams ran beside her. 
 My wanton thoughts enticed mine eye 
 
 To see what was forbidden : 
 But better memory said Fie; 
 
 So vain desire was chidden — 
 Hey nonny nonny O! 
 Hey nonny nonny ! 
 
 Into a slumber then I fell, 
 
 And fond imagination 
 Seemed to see, but could not tell, 
 
 Her feature or her fashion : 
 But ev'n as babes in dreams do smile, 
 
 And sometimes fall a-weeping, 
 So I awaked as wise that while 
 
 As when I feel a-sleeping. 
 
 J. Munday 
 
 219 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 254' Song 
 
 Tj^OLLOW a shadow, it still flies you, 
 -*- Seem to fly it, it will pursue; 
 So court a mistress, she denies you, 
 Let her alone, she will court you. 
 Say, are not women truly then 
 Styled but the shadows of us men ? 
 
 At morn and even, shades are longest; 
 
 At noon, they are short or none; 
 So men at weakest, they are strongest. 
 
 But grant us perfect, they're not known. 
 Say, are not women truly then 
 Styled but the shadows of us men ? 
 
 B. Jonson 
 
 255. The Shepherd's Sun 
 
 TIJ^AIR Nymphs! sit ye here by me 
 -'- On this flow'ry green; 
 While we, this merry day, do see 
 
 Some things but seldom seen. 
 Shepherds all ! now come, sit around 
 
 On yond chequered plain; 
 While, from the woods, we hear resound 
 Some comfort for Love's pain. 
 Every bird sits on his bough 
 
 As brag as he that is the best; 
 Then, sweet Love ! reveal how 
 
 Our minds may be at rest ! 
 220 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Echo thus replied to me, 
 * Sit under yonder beechen-tree; 
 And there, Love shall shew thee, 
 How all may be redrest ; 
 
 Hark! Hark! Hark, the Nightingale! 
 
 In her mourning lay, 
 She tells her story's woeful tale. 
 
 To warn ye, if she may, 
 * Fair maids ! take ye heed of Love, 
 
 It is a per'lous thing ! 
 As Philomel herself did prove, 
 Abused by a King. 
 
 If Kings play false, believe no men 
 
 That make a seemly outward show, 
 But, caught once, beware then; 
 
 For then begins your woe ! 
 They will look babies in your eyes, 
 
 And speak so fair as fair may be; 
 But trust them in no wise ! 
 Example take by me 1' 
 
 *Fie! Fie!' said the Threstlecock, 
 
 *You are much to blame. 
 For one man's fault, all men to blot. 
 
 Impairing their good name. 
 Admit you were used amiss, 
 
 By that ungentle King; 
 It follows not, that you, for this. 
 
 Should all men's honours wring; 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 There be good ; and there be bad ! 
 
 And some are false; and some are true! 
 As good choice is still had 
 Amongst us men, as you! 
 
 Women have faults as well as we; 
 Some say, for our one, they have three ! 
 Then smite not; nor bite not; 
 When you as faulty be.' 
 
 * Peace ! peace ! ' quoth Madge Howlet then, 
 
 Sitting out of sight, 
 ' For women are as good as men ; 
 
 And both are good alike ! ' 
 ' Not so ! ' said the little Wren, 
 
 'Difference there may be, 
 The cock always commands the hen; 
 Then men shall go for me?' 
 
 Then Robin Redbreast, stepping in. 
 
 Would needs take up this tedious strife; 
 Protesting, 'True loving 
 In either, lengthened life! 
 
 If I love you, and you love me; 
 Can there be better harmony ? 
 Thus ending contending. 
 Love must the umpire be ! ' 
 
 Fair nymphs! Love must be your guide, 
 
 Chaste, unspotted Love; 
 To such as do your thralls betide, 
 
 Resolved without remove. 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Likewise, jolly Shepherd Swains, 
 
 If you do respect 
 The happy issue of your pains, 
 True Love must you direct ! 
 
 You hear the birds contend for love; 
 
 The bubbling springs do sing sweet love; 
 The mountains and fountains 
 Do echo nought but love ! 
 
 Take hands, then. Nymphs and Shepherds all! 
 And to this river's music's fall. 
 Sing, 'True Love and Chaste Love 
 Begins our Festival ! ' 
 
 A. Munday. 
 
 Against Them Who Lay Unchastity 
 to the Sex of Women 
 
 'nr^HEY meet but with unwholesome springs, 
 -*■ And summers which infectious are; 
 They hear but when the mermaid sings. 
 And only see the falling star. 
 
 Who ever dare 
 Affirm no woman chaste and fair. 
 
 Go, cure your fevers; and you'll say 
 
 The dog-days scorch not all the year: 
 In copper mines no longer stay, 
 But travel to the west, and there 
 
 The right ones see. 
 And grant all gold's not alchemy. 
 
 223 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 What madman, 'cause the glow-worm's flame 
 Is cold, swears there's no warmth in fire ? 
 
 'Cause some make forfeit of their name, 
 And slave themselves to man's desire, 
 
 Shall the sex, free 
 From guilt, damn'd to the bondage be ? 
 
 Nor grieve, Castara, though 't were frail; 
 
 Thy virtue then would brighter shine, 
 When thy example should prevail, 
 And every woman's faith be thine. 
 
 And were there none, 
 'Tis majesty to rule alone. 
 
 W. Habington 
 
 257. My Hope a Counsel 
 
 A /TY hope a counsel with my heart 
 ^^ ^ Hath long desired to be. 
 And marvels much so dear a friend 
 Is not retained by me. 
 
 She doth condemn my haste 
 
 In passing the estate 
 Of my whole life into their hands, 
 
 Who nought repays but hate: 
 
 And not sufficed with this, she says, 
 
 I did release the right 
 Of my enjoyed liberties 
 Unto your beauteous sight. 
 
 Anon. 
 224 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 2^8. Faith Everlasting 
 
 T~^EAR, if you change, I'll never choose again; 
 
 ^^ Sweet, if you shrink, I'll never think of love; 
 
 Fair, if you fail, I'll judge all beauty vain ; 
 
 Wise, if too weak, more wits I'll never prove. 
 
 Dear, sweet, fair, wise! change, shrink, nor be not weak; 
 
 And, on my faith, my faith shall never break. 
 
 Earth with her flowers shall sooner heaven adorn; 
 Heaven her bright stars through earth's dim globe shall 
 
 move; 
 Fire heat shall lose, and frosts of flames be born; 
 Air, made to shine, as black as hell shall prove: 
 Earth, heaven, fire, air, the world transform'd shall view, 
 Ere I prove false to faith or strange to you. 
 
 Anon, 
 
 2jg, A Doubt of Martyrdom 
 
 /^ FOR some honest lover's ghost, 
 ^-^ Some kind unbodied post 
 
 Sent from shades below ! 
 
 I strangely long to know 
 Whether the noble chaplets wear 
 Those that their mistress' scorn did bear 
 
 Or those that were used kindly. 
 
 For whatsoe'er they tell us here 
 To make those sufferings dear, 
 
 225 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 *Twill there, I fear, be found 
 
 That to the being crown'd 
 T' have loved alone v^ill not suffice, 
 Unless we also have been wise 
 
 And have our loves enjoy'd. 
 
 What posture can we think him in 
 That, here unloved, again 
 
 Departs, and 's thither gone 
 
 Where each sits by his own ? 
 Or how can that Elysium be 
 Where I my mistress still must see 
 
 Circled in other's arms ? 
 
 For there the judges all are just, 
 And Sophonisba must 
 
 Be his whom she held dear, 
 
 Not his who loved her here. 
 The sweet Philoclea, since she died, 
 Lies by her Pirocles his side, 
 
 Not by Amphialus. 
 
 Some bays, perchance, or myrtle bough 
 For difference crowns the brow 
 Of those kind souls that were 
 The noble martyrs here: 
 And if that be the only odds 
 (As who can tell ?), ye kinder gods, 
 Give me the woman here ! 
 
 Sir J. Suckling 
 
 Z96 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 The Crier 
 
 /^OOD folk, for gold or hire, 
 ^-^ But help me to a crier; 
 For my poor heart is run astray 
 After two eyes that passed this way. 
 
 O yes, O yes, O yes, 
 
 If there be any man 
 
 In town or country can 
 
 Bring me my heart again, 
 
 I'll please him for his pain. 
 And by these marks I will you show 
 That only I this heart do owe: 
 
 It is a wounded heart, 
 
 Wherein yet sticks the dart; 
 Every piece sore hurt throughout it; 
 Faith and troth writ round about it. 
 It was a tame heart and a dear, 
 
 And never used to roam; 
 But, having got this haunt, I fear 
 
 'Twill hardly stay at home. 
 For God's sake, walking by the way. 
 
 If you my heart do see. 
 Either impound it for a stray, 
 
 Or send it back to me. 
 
 M. Drayton 
 
 The Constant Lover 
 
 /^UT upon it, I have loved 
 ^-^ Three whole days together! 
 And am like to love three more. 
 If it prove fair weather. 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Time shall moult away his wings 
 
 Ere he shall discover 
 In the whole wide world again 
 
 Such a constant lover. 
 
 But the spite on 't is, no praise 
 
 Is due at all to me: 
 Love with me had made no stays, 
 
 Had it any been but she. 
 
 Had it any been but she, 
 
 And that very face, 
 There had been at least ere this 
 
 A dozen dozen in her place. 
 
 Sir J. Suckling 
 
 262. Sigh No More, Ladies 
 
 OIGH 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 moe. 
 
 Of dumps so dull and heavy; 
 The fraud of men was ever so. 
 Since summer first was leavy. 
 228 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Then sigh not so, 
 But let them go, 
 And be you bhthe and bonny. 
 Converting all your sounds of woe 
 Into Hey nonny, nonny. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 263. Hymn to Venus 
 
 /^, FAIR sweet goddess, Queen of loves, 
 
 ^^ Soft and gentle as thy doves. 
 
 Humble-eyed, and ever ruing 
 
 Those poor hearts their loves pursuing! 
 
 O, thou mother of delights, 
 
 Crowner of all happy nights, 
 
 Star of dear content and pleasure. 
 
 Of mutual loves and endless treasure! 
 
 Accept this sacrifice we bring. 
 
 Thou continual youth and spring; 
 
 Grant this lady her desires, 
 
 And every hour we'll crown thy fires. 
 
 J. Fletcher 
 
 26^. Time and Love 
 
 "\ ^ 7"HEN I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced 
 '' * The rich proud cost of outworn buried age; 
 When sometime-lofty towers I see down-razed, 
 And brass eternal slave to mortal rage; 
 When I have seen the hungry ocean gain 
 Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, 
 And the firm soil win of the watery main, 
 Increasing store with loss and loss with store; 
 
 229 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 When I have seen such interchange of state, 
 Or state itself confounded to decay, — 
 Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate — 
 That Time will come and take my Love away. 
 This thought is as a death, which cannot choose 
 But weep to have that which it fears to lose. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 26^. Complaint of the A hsence of Her Lover 
 Being Upon the Sea 
 
 ^^\ HAPPY dames ! that may embrace 
 ^-^ The fruit of your delight. 
 Help to bewail the woful case 
 
 And eke the heavy plight 
 Of me, that wonted to rejoice 
 The fortune of my pleasant choice: 
 Good ladies, help to fill my mourning voice. 
 
 In ship, freight with rememberance 
 
 Of thoughts and pleasures past, 
 He sails that hath in governance 
 
 My life while it will last: 
 With scalding sighs, for lack of gale. 
 Furthering his hope, that is his sail. 
 Toward me, the sweet port of his avail. 
 
 Alas ! how oft in dreams I see 
 Those eyes that were my food; 
 
 Which sometime so delighted me, 
 That yet they do me good: 
 230 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Wherewith I wake with his return 
 
 Whose absent flame did make me burn: 
 
 But when I find the lack, Lord ! how I mourn ! 
 
 When other lovers in arms across 
 
 Rejoice their chief delight, 
 Drowned in tears, to mourn my loss 
 
 I stand the bitter night 
 In my window where I may see 
 Before the winds how the clouds flee: 
 Lo ! what a mariner love hath made me ! 
 
 And in green waves when the salt flood 
 
 Doth rise by rage of wind, 
 A thousand fancies in that mood 
 
 Assail my restless mind. 
 Alas ! now drencheth my sweet foe, 
 That with the spoil of my heart did go. 
 And left me ; but alas ! why did he so ? 
 
 And when the seas wax calm again 
 
 To chase from me annoy, 
 My doubtful hope doth cause me plain; 
 
 So dread cuts off my joy. 
 Thus is my wealth mingled with woe 
 And of each thought a doubt doth grow; 
 — Now he comes ! Will he come ? Alas ! no, no. 
 Earl of Surrey 
 
 231 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 266. To Lucasta, Going Beyond the Seas 
 
 TF to be absent were to be 
 ■^ Away from thee; 
 
 Or that when I am gone 
 
 You or I were alone; 
 Then, my Lucasta, might I crave 
 Pity from blustering wind or swallowing wave. 
 
 But I'll not sigh one blast or gale 
 To swell my sail, 
 Or pay a tear to 'suage 
 The foaming blue-god's rage; 
 For whether he will let me pass 
 Or no, I'm still as happy as I was. 
 
 Though seas and land betwixt us both. 
 Our faith and troth. 
 Like separated souls, 
 All time and space controls: 
 Above the highest sphere we meet 
 Unseen, unknown; and greet as Angels greet. 
 
 So then we do anticipate 
 Our after-fate, 
 And are alive i' the skies, 
 If thus our lips and eyes 
 Can speak like spirits unconfined 
 In Heaven, their earthly bodies left behind. 
 
 R. Lovelace 
 232 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 26y. To Her Sea-Faring Lover 
 
 O HALL I thus ever long, and be no whit the neare ? 
 "^ And shall I still complain to thee, the which me will 
 
 not hear ? 
 Alas ! say nay ! say nay ! and be no more so dumb, 
 
 But open thou thy manly mouth and say that thou wilt 
 come: 
 Whereby my heart may think, although I see not thee. 
 
 That thou wilt come — thy word so sware — if thou a 
 live man be. 
 The roaring hugy waves they threaten my poor ghost. 
 And toss thee up and down the seas in danger to be 
 lost. 
 Shall they not make me fear that they have swallowed thee ? 
 — But as thou art most sure alive, so v\^ilt thou come to 
 me. 
 Whereby I shall go see thy ship ride on the strand, 
 
 And think and say Lo where he comes and ^ure here will 
 he land ; 
 And then I shall lift up to thee my little hand, 
 
 And thou shalt think thine heart in ease, in health to see 
 me stand. 
 And if thou come indeed (as Christ thee send to do !) 
 Those arms which miss thee now shall then embrace (and 
 hold) thee too : 
 Each vein to every joint the lively blood shall spread 
 
 Which now for want of thy glad sight doth show full pale 
 an4 dead. 
 
 233 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 But if thou slip thy troth, and do not come at all, 
 
 As minutes in the clock do strike so call for death I shall : 
 
 To please both thy false heart and rid myself from woe, 
 That rather had to die in troth than live forsaken so ! 
 
 Anon. 
 
 268. Song of the Siren 
 
 OTEER hither, steer your winged pines, 
 
 *^ All beaten mariners ! 
 
 Here lie Love's undiscover'd mines, 
 
 A prey to passengers ; — 
 Perfumes far sweeter than the best 
 Which make the Phoenix' 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. 
 
 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 hath gotten more. 
 
 W, Browne 
 234 
 
26g. 
 
 ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Wounded I Am 
 
 'X 1 rOUNDED I am, and dare not seek relief 
 
 * '' For this new stroke unseen but not unfelt: 
 No blood nor bruise is witness of my grief, 
 But sighs and tears wherewith I mourn and melt. 
 If I complain, my witness is suspect; 
 If I contain, with cares I am undone: 
 Sit still and die, tell truth and be reject: 
 O hateful choice that sorrow cannot shun ! 
 Yet of us twain whose loss shall be the less, 
 Mine of my life or you of your good name ? 
 Light is my death, regarding my distress. 
 But your offence cries out to your defame, 
 " A virgin fair hath slain, for lack of grace, 
 The man that made an idol of her face ! " 
 
 Anon, 
 
 2yo. The Ways on Earth 
 
 'T^HE ways on earth have paths and turnings known; 
 
 ^ The ways on sea are gone by needle's light; 
 The birds of the air the nearest way have flown, 
 And under earth the moles do cast aright; 
 A way more hard than these I needs must take, 
 Where none can teach, nor no man can direct; 
 Where no man's good for me example makes. 
 But all men's faults do teach her to suspect. 
 
 235 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Her thoughts and mine such disproportion have; 
 
 All strength of Love is infinite in me; 
 
 She useth the 'vantage time and fortune gave 
 
 Of worth and power to get the liberty. 
 
 Earth, sea, heaven, hell, are subject unto laws. 
 
 But I, poor I, must suflFer and know no cause. 
 
 R. DevereuXy Earl of Essex 
 
 2/1. Cassandra 
 
 npHE sea hath many thousand sands, 
 -*- The sun hath motes as many; 
 The sky is full of stars, and Love 
 As full of woes as any : 
 Believe me, that do know the elf, 
 And make no trial by thyself. 
 
 It is in truth a pretty toy 
 
 For babes to play withal; 
 
 But O, the honies of our youth 
 
 Are oft our age's gall : 
 
 Self-proof in time will make thee know 
 
 He was a prophet told thee so : 
 
 A prophet that, Cassandra-like, 
 
 Tells truth without belief; 
 
 For headstrong youth will run his race. 
 
 Although his goal be grief: 
 
 Love's martyr, when his heat is past, 
 
 Proves Care's confessor at the last. 
 
 Anon. 
 236 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 2^/2. Lovers Sacrijice 
 
 /"^ O, happy heart ! for thou shalt lie 
 ^^ Intombed in her for whom I die, 
 Example of her cruelty. 
 
 Tell her, if she chance to chide 
 Me for slowness, in her pride. 
 That it was for her, I died. 
 
 If a tear escape her eye, 
 Tis not for my memory, 
 But thy rites of obsequy. 
 
 The altar was my loving breast, 
 My heart the sacrificed beast. 
 And I was, myself, the priest. 
 
 Your body was the sacred shrine. 
 Your cruel mind the power divine. 
 Pleased with hearts of men, not kine. 
 
 J. Fletcher 
 
 2/ J. Sonet 
 
 T^RA bank to bank, fra wood to wood I rin, 
 ■^ Ourhailit with my feeble fantasie; 
 Like til a leaf that fallis from a tree. 
 Or til a reed ourblawin with the win. 
 
 237 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Twa gods guides me : the ana of tham is blin, 
 Yea and a bairn brocht up in vanitie; 
 The next a wife ingenrit of the sea, 
 
 And lichter nor a dauphin with her fin. 
 
 Unhappy is the man for evermair 
 
 That tills the sand and sawis in the air; 
 But twice unhappier is he, I lairn. 
 That feidis in, his hairt a mad desire, 
 And follows on a woman throw the fire, 
 Led by a blind and teachit by a bairn. 
 
 M. Boyd 
 
 274. Waly, Walyj Love Be Bonny 
 
 /^ WALY, waly, up the bank, 
 
 ^-^ And waly, waly, down the brae, 
 
 And waly, waly, yon burn-side 
 
 Where I and my Love wont to gae! 
 I lean'd my back unto an aik, 
 
 I thocht it was a trustie tree; 
 But first it bow'd and syne it brak, — 
 
 Sae my true Love did lichtlie me. 
 
 O waly, waly, gin love be bonnie 
 
 A little time while it is new ! 
 But when 'tis auld, it waxeth cauld, 
 
 And fades awa' like morning dew. 
 O wherefore should I busk my heid .? 
 
 Or wherefore should I kame my hair ? 
 For my true Love has me forsook. 
 
 And says he'll never lo'e me mair. . 
 238 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Now Arthur's Seat sail be my bed; 
 
 The sheets sail ne'er be 'filed by me: 
 Saint Anton's Well sail be my drink, 
 
 Since my true Love has forsaken me. 
 Marti'mas wind, when wilt thou blaw, 
 
 And shake the green leaves aff the tree ? 
 
 gentle Death, when wilt thou come ? 
 For of my life I am wearie. 
 
 *Tis not the frost, that freezes fell, 
 
 Nor blawing snaw's inclemencie; 
 Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry. 
 
 But my Love's heart grown cauld to me. 
 When we cam in by Glasgow toun 
 
 We were a comely sicht to see;; 
 My love was clad in black velvet. 
 
 And I mysel in cramasie. 
 
 But had I wist, before I kist> 
 That love had been sae ill to win; 
 
 1 had lock'd my heart in a case o' gowd, 
 And pinn'd it wi' a siller pin. 
 
 But O ! if my young babe were born. 
 
 And set upon the nurse's knee; 
 And I mysel were dead and gane, 
 
 239 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 2^5, The Lover'' s Appeal 
 
 A ND wilt thou leave me thus ? 
 •'^^ Say nay, say nay, for shame I 
 To save thee from the blame 
 Of all my grief and grame. 
 And wilt thou leave me thus ? 
 Say nay! say nay! 
 
 And wilt thou leave me thus, 
 That hast loved thee so long 
 In wealth and woe among: 
 And is thy heart so strong 
 As for to leave me thus ? 
 Say nay ! say nay ! 
 
 And wilt thou leave me thus. 
 That hath given thee my heart 
 Never for to depart 
 Neither for pain nor smart: 
 And wilt thou leave me thus ? 
 Say nay ! say nay ! 
 
 And wilt thou leave me thus, 
 And have no more pity 
 Of him that loveth thee ? 
 Alas, thy cruelty ! 
 And wilt thou leave me thus ? 
 Say nay ! say nay ! 
 
 5/V r. Wyat 
 
 J 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 2^6. In Imagine Fer transit Homo 
 
 T70LL0W thy fair sun, unhappy shadow! 
 ■■- Though thou be black as night, 
 
 And she made all of light, 
 Yet follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow! 
 
 Follow her, whose light thy light depriveth ! 
 
 Though here thou liv'st disgraced. 
 
 And she in heaven is placed, 
 Yet follow her whose light the world reviveth ! 
 
 Follow those pure beams, whose beauty burneth ! 
 
 That so have scorched thee, 
 
 As thou still black must be. 
 Till her kind beams thy black to brightness turneth. 
 
 Follow her, while yet her glory shineth I 
 
 There comes a luckless night 
 
 That will dim all her light; 
 And this the black unhappy shade divineth. 
 
 Follow still, since so thy fates ordained ! 
 
 The sun must have his shade. 
 
 Till both at once do fade; 
 The sun still proved, the shadow still disdained. 
 
 , T. Campion 
 
 241 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 2 J J. Thou May^st Repent 
 
 'V "\ THEN men shall find thy flow'r, thy glory, pass, 
 
 * And thou with careful brow, sitting alone, 
 Received hast this message from thy glass. 
 That tells the truth and says that All is gone; 
 Fresh shalt thou see in me the wounds thou mad'st, 
 Though spent thy flame, in me the heat remaining: 
 I that have loved thee thus before thou fad'st — 
 My faith shall wax, when thou art in thy waning. 
 The world shall find this miracle in me. 
 That fire can burn when all the matter's spent: 
 Then what my faith hath been thyself shalt see. 
 And that thou wast unkind thou may'st repent. — 
 Thou may'st repent that thou hast scorned my tears, 
 When Winter snows upon thy sable hairs. 
 
 S. Daniel 
 
 2/8. A Supplication 
 
 "PORGET not yet the tried intent 
 "*- Of such a truth as I have meant; 
 My great travail so gladly spent. 
 Forget not yet! 
 
 Forget not yet when first began 
 The weary life ye know, since whan 
 The suit, the service, none tell can; 
 Forget not yet! 
 242 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Forget not yet the great assays, 
 The cruel wrong, the scornful ways, 
 The painful patience in delays, 
 Forget not yet! 
 
 Forget not! O, forget not this! — 
 How long ago hath been, and is, 
 The mind that never meant amiss — 
 Forget not yet! 
 
 Forget not then thine own approved, 
 The which so long hath thee so loved. 
 Whose steadfast faith yet never moved. 
 Forget not this! 
 
 Sir T. Wyat 
 
 2jg. Vixi Puellis Nuper Idoneus 
 
 nPHEY flee from me that sometime did me seek, 
 ■*■ With naked foot stalking within my chamber: 
 Once have I seen them gentle, tame, and meek. 
 
 That now are wild, and do not once remember 
 That sometime they have put themselves in danger 
 To take bread at my hand; and now they range. 
 
 Busily seeking in continual change. 
 
 Thanked be fortune, it hath been otherwise 
 
 Twenty times better; but once especial. — 
 In thin array: after a pleasant guise, 
 
 243 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 When her loose gown did from her shoulders fall, 
 And she me caught in her arms long and small, 
 And therewithal so sweetly did me kiss, 
 
 And softly said, ' Dear hearty how like you this? * 
 
 It was no dream; for I lay broad awaking: 
 But all is turn'd now, through my gentleness, 
 
 Into a bitter fashion of forsaking; 
 
 And I have leave to go of her goodness; 
 
 And she also to use new-fangleness. 
 
 But since that I unkindly so am served, 
 
 * How like you this? ' — what hath she now deserved ? 
 
 Sir T. Wyat 
 
 280, The Indifferent 
 
 IVTEVER more will I protest 
 
 To love a woman but in jest: 
 For as they cannot be true. 
 So to give each man his due. 
 When the wooing fit is past, 
 Their affection cannot last. 
 
 Therefore if I chance to meet 
 
 With a mistress fair and sweet, 
 
 She my service shall obtain, 
 
 Loving her for love again : 
 Thus much liberty I crave 
 Not to be a constant slave. 
 
 But when we have tried each other. 
 If she better like another, 
 244 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Let her quickly change for me; 
 
 Then to change am I as free. 
 He or she that loves too long 
 Sell their freedom for a song. 
 
 F. Beaumont 
 
 281. The Faithless Shepherdess 
 
 "X^THILE that the sun with his beams hot 
 
 '' * Scorched the fruits in vale and mountain, 
 Philon the shepherd, late forgot, 
 Sitting beside a crystal fountain 
 In the shadow of a green oak tree. 
 Upon his pipe this song play'd he: 
 Adieu, Love, adieu, Love, untrue Love ! 
 Untrue Love, untrue Love, adieu, Love! 
 Your mind is light, soon lost for new love. 
 
 So long as I was in your sight 
 
 I was your heart, your soul, your treasure; 
 And evermore you sobb'd and sigh'd 
 Burning in flames beyond all measure: 
 — Three days endured your love to me, 
 And it was lost in other three! 
 Adieu, Love, adieu, Love, untrue Love ! 
 Untrue Love, untrue Love, adieu. Love! 
 Your mind is Ught, soon lost for new love. 
 
 Another shepherd you did see. 
 
 To whom your heart was soon enchained; 
 Full soon your love was leapt from me. 
 
 Full soon my place he had obtained. 
 
 245 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Soon came a third your love to win, 
 And we were out and he was in. 
 
 Adieu, Love, adieu. Love, untrue Love ! 
 
 Untrue Love, untrue Love, adieu, Love ! 
 
 Your mind is Hght, soon lost for new love. 
 
 Sure you have made me passing glad 
 
 That you your mind so soon removed. 
 Before that I the leisure had 
 
 To choose you for my best beloved : 
 
 For all my love was pass'd and done 
 
 Two days before it was begun. 
 
 Adieu, Love, adieu. Love, untrue Love ! 
 
 Untrue Love, untrue Love, adieu. Love ! 
 
 Your mind is light, soon lost for new love. 
 
 Anon, 
 
 282. Madrigal 
 
 OLY thief, if so you will believe, 
 *^It nought or little did me grieve. 
 That my true heart you had bereft, 
 Till that unkindly you it left: 
 Leaving you lose, losing you kill 
 That which I may forego so ill. 
 
 What thing more cruel can you do 
 Than rob a man and kill him too .? 
 Wherefore of love I ask this meed, 
 To bring you where you did this deed, 
 That there you may, for your amisses 
 Be damaged in a thousand kisses. 
 
 Anon. 
 246 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 28 J. Think^st Thou to Seduce Me Then 
 
 HINK'ST thou to seduce me then with words that have 
 
 ? 
 
 T 
 
 ■^ no meaning 
 Parrots so can learn to prate, our speech by pieces glean- 
 ing: 
 Nurses teach their children so about the time of weaning. 
 
 Learn to speak first, then to woo : to wooing much per- 
 
 taineth : 
 He that courts us, wanting art, soon falters when he feign eth. 
 Looks asquint on his discourse and smiles when he com- 
 
 plaineth. 
 
 Skilful anglers hide their hooks, fit baits for every season ; 
 But with crooked pins fish thou, as babes do that want 
 
 reason : 
 Gudgeons only can be caught with such poor tricks of 
 
 treason. 
 
 Ruth forgive me (if I erred) from human heart's compassion. 
 When I laughed sometimes too much to see thy foolish 
 
 fashion : 
 But alas, who less could do that found so good occasion .? 
 
 T . Campion 
 
 284. The Message 
 
 OEND home my long-stray'd eyes to me, 
 "^ Which, oh ! too long have dwelt on thee ; 
 But if there they have learnt such ill, 
 
 Such forced fashions 
 
 And false passions. 
 
 247 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 That they be 
 Made by thee 
 Fit for no good sight, keep them still. 
 
 Send home my harmless heart again, 
 Which no unworthy thought could stain; 
 But if it be taught by thine 
 To make jestings 
 Of protestings. 
 
 And break both 
 Word and oath. 
 Keep it still, 'tis none of mine. 
 
 Yet send me back my heart and eyes, 
 That I may know and see thy lies, 
 And may laugh and joy when thou 
 Art in anguish. 
 And dost languish 
 For some one 
 That will none. 
 Or prove as false as thou dost now. 
 
 7- Do 
 
 28^, My Heart 
 
 'T^HOU sent'st to me a heart was sound, 
 -*■ I took it to be thine: 
 But when I saw it had a wound, 
 I knew that heart was mine. 
 
 248 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 A bounty of a strange conceit, 
 
 To send mine own to me, 
 And send it in a worse estate 
 
 Than when it came to thee. 
 
 Oxford Music School MS. 
 
 To His Forsaken Mistress 
 
 T DO confess thou'rt smooth and fair, 
 
 ■^ And I might have gone near to love thee, 
 
 Had I not found the sHghtest prayer 
 
 That lips could move, had power to move thee; 
 But I can let thee now alone 
 As worthy to be loved by none. 
 
 I do confess thou'rt sweet; yet find 
 Thee such an unthrift of thy sweets, 
 
 Thy favours are but like the wind 
 That kisseth everything it meets : 
 
 And since thou canst with more than one, 
 
 Thou'rt worthy to be kiss'd by none. 
 
 The morning rose that untouch'd stands 
 
 Arm'd with her briars, how sweet she smells! 
 
 But pluck'd and strain'd through ruder hands. 
 Her sweets no longer with her dwells : 
 
 But scent and beauty both are gone, 
 
 And leaves fall from her, one by one. 
 
 Such fate ere long will thee betide 
 When thou hast handled been awhile, 
 
 249 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 With sere flowers to be thrown aside; 
 
 And I shall sigh, while some will smile. 
 To see thy love to every one 
 Hath brought thee to be loved by none. 
 
 Sir R. Ayton 
 
 28'/, I Loved a Lass 
 
 T LOVED a lass, a fair one, 
 ■*■ As fair as e'er was seen; 
 She was indeed a rare one. 
 
 Another Sheba Queen: 
 But, fool as then I was, 
 
 I thought she loved me too: 
 But now, alas! she's left me, 
 
 Falero, lero, loo I 
 
 Her hair like gold did glister, 
 
 Each eye was like a star. 
 She did surpass her sister. 
 
 Which pass'd all others far; 
 She would me honey call. 
 
 She'd — O she'd kiss me too ! 
 But now, alas ! she's left me, 
 
 FalerOy lerOy loo! 
 
 Many a merry meeting 
 
 My love and I have had; 
 She was my only sweeting, 
 She made my heart full glad; 
 250 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 The tears stood in her eyes 
 
 Like to the morning dew: 
 But now alas ! she's left me, 
 
 Falero, lero^ loo 
 
 Her cheeks were like the cherry. 
 
 Her skin was white as snow; 
 When she was blithe and merry 
 
 She angel-like did show; 
 Her waist exceeding small, 
 
 The fives did fit her shoe: 
 But now, alas! she's left me, 
 
 Falero^ lero, loo! 
 
 In summer time or winter 
 
 She had her heart's desire; 
 I still did scorn to stint her 
 
 From sugar, sack, or fire; 
 The world went round about, 
 
 No cares we ever knew: 
 But now, alas ! she's left me, 
 
 Falero J leroy loo! 
 
 To maidens' vows and swearing 
 
 Henceforth no credit give; 
 You may give them the hearing. 
 
 But never them believe; 
 They are as false as fair, 
 
 Unconstant, frail, untrue: 
 For mine, alas ! hath left me, 
 
 Faleroy leroy loo! 
 
 G. Wither 
 251 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 288. Then Hate Me When Thou Wilt 
 
 'TPHEN hate me when thou wih; if ever, now; 
 -*- Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross, 
 Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow, 
 And do not drop in for an after-loss: 
 Ah ! do not, when my heart hath 'scaped this sorrow, 
 Come in the rearward of a conquered woe; 
 Give not a windy night a rainy morrow, 
 To linger out a purposed overthrow. 
 If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last. 
 When other petty griefs have done their spite, 
 But in the onset come : so shall I taste 
 At first the very worst of fortune's might; 
 
 And other strains of woe, which now seem woe, 
 Compared with loss of thee will not seem so ! 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 28g. 
 
 Disdain Me Still 
 
 T^ISDAIN me still that I may ever love, 
 ^^^ For who his love enjoys can love no more: 
 The war once past, with ease men cowards prove. 
 And ships returned do rot upon the shore : 
 And though thou frown, I'll say thou art most fair. 
 And still I'll love, though still I must despair. 
 
 As heat to life, so is desire to love. 
 And these once quenched both life and love are gone*. 
 Let not my sighs nor tears thy virtue move, 
 Like baser metals do not melt too soon: 
 252 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Laugh at my woes although I ever mourn; 
 Love surfeits with reward, his nurse is scorn. 
 
 2 go. Away, Delights I 
 
 \ WAY, deHghts ! go seek some other dwelling, 
 -^^^ For I must die. 
 
 Farewell, false love ! thy tongue is ever telling 
 
 Lie after lie. 
 For ever let me rest now from thy smarts; 
 
 Alas, for pity, go. 
 
 And fire their hearts 
 That have been hard to thee ! Mine was not so. 
 
 Never again deluding love shall know me. 
 
 For I will die; 
 And all those griefs that think to overgrow me. 
 
 Shall be as L 
 For ever will I sleep, while poor maids cry — 
 * Alas, for pity stay, 
 And let us die 
 With thee! Men cannot mock us in the clay.* 
 
 J. Fletcher 
 
 2pi. To His Inconstant Mistress 
 
 ^"X THEN thou, poor Excommunicate 
 
 From all the joys of Love, shalt see 
 The full reward and glorious fate 
 
 Which my strong faith shall purchase me, 
 Then curse thine own inconstancy ! 
 
 253 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 A fairer hand than thine shall cure 
 
 That heart which thy false oaths did wound; 
 
 And to my soul a soul more pure 
 
 Than thine shall by Love's hand be bound, 
 And both with equal glory crowned. 
 
 Then shalt thou weep, entreat, complain 
 To Love, as I did once to thee; 
 
 When all thy tears shall be in vain 
 As mine were then: for thou shalt be 
 Damn'd for thy false apostasy. 
 
 r. Cm 
 
 2g2. To an Inconstant One 
 
 T LOVED thee once; I'll love no more — 
 ^ Thine be the grief as is the blame; 
 Thou art not what thou wast before. 
 What reason I should be the same ^ 
 He that can love unloved again, 
 Hath better store of love than brain : 
 God send me love my debts to pay, 
 While unthrifts fool their love away! 
 
 Nothing could have my love o'erthrown 
 
 If thou hadst still continued mine; 
 Yea, if thou hadst remain'd thy own, 
 I might perchance have yet been thine. 
 But thou thy freedom didst recall 
 That it thou might elsewhere enthral; 
 And then how could I but disdain 
 A captive's captive to remain ? 
 254 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 When new desires had conquer'd thee 
 And changed the object of thy will, 
 It had been lethargy in me, 
 
 Not constancy, to love thee still. 
 Yea, it had been a sin to go 
 And prostitute affection so ; 
 Since we are taught no prayers to say 
 To such as must to others pray. 
 
 Yet do thou glory in thy choice — 
 
 Thy choice of his good fortune boast; 
 I'll neither grieve nor yet rejoice 
 To see him gain what I have lost: 
 The height of my disdain shall be 
 To laugh at him, to blush for thee; 
 To love thee still, but go no more 
 A-begging at a beggar's door. 
 
 Sir R. Ayton 
 
 Falsehood 
 
 OTILL do the stars impart their light 
 *^ To those that travel in the night; 
 Still time runs on, nor doth the hand 
 Or shadow on the dial stand; 
 The streams still glide and constant are : 
 
 Only thy mind 
 
 Untrue I find, 
 
 Which carelessly 
 
 Neglects to be 
 Like stream or shadow, hand or star. 
 
 255 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Fool that I am ! I do recall 
 
 My words, and swear thou'rt like them all: 
 
 Thou seem'st like stars to nourish fire, 
 
 But O how cold is thy desire ! 
 
 And like the hand upon the brass 
 
 Thou point'st at me 
 
 In mockery; 
 
 If I come nigh 
 
 Shade-like thou'lt fly. 
 And as the stream with murmur pass. 
 
 W. Cartwright 
 
 2g4. Accurst Be Love 
 
 A CCURST be Love, and those that trust his trains ! 
 •^ ^ He tastes the fruit whilst others toil. 
 He brings the lamp, we lend the oil. 
 He sows distress, we yield him soil. 
 He wageth war, we bide the foil. 
 
 Accurst be Love, and those that trust his trains! 
 He lays the trap, we seek the snare. 
 He threat'neth death, we speak him fair, 
 He coins deceits, we foster care. 
 He favoureth pride, we count it rare. 
 
 Accurst be Love, and those that trust his trains! 
 He seemeth blind, yet wounds with art. 
 He sows content, he pays with smart, 
 256 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 He swears relief, yet kills the heart, 
 He calls for truth, yet scorns desart. 
 
 Accurst be Love, and those that trust his trains ! 
 
 Whose heaven is hell, whose perfect joys are pains. 
 
 T. Lodpe 
 
 The Lover Curseth the Time When 
 First He Fell in Love 
 
 "X^THEN first mine eyes did view and mark 
 
 * Thy beauty fair for to behold. 
 
 And when mine ears 'gan first to hark 
 
 The pleasant words that thou me told; 
 I would as then I had been free 
 From ears to hear and eyes to see. 
 
 And when my hands did handle oft. 
 That might thee keep in memory, 
 
 And when my feet had gone so soft 
 To find and have thy company; 
 
 I would each hand a foot had been. 
 
 And eke each foot a hand had seen. 
 
 And when in mind I did consent 
 
 To follow thus my fancy's will. 
 And when my heart did first relent 
 
 To taste such bait myself to spill, 
 I would my heart had been as thine, 
 Or else thy heart as soft as mine. 
 
 257 
 
o 
 
 THE BOOK OF 
 
 Then should not I such cause have found 
 To wish this monstrous sight to see, 
 
 Nor thou, alas! that mad'st the wound. 
 Should not deny me remedy: 
 
 Then should one will in both remain. 
 
 To ground one heart which now is twain. 
 
 W.Hunntsi?) 
 
 2p6. O Crudelis Amor 
 
 GENTLE Love, ungentle for thy deed, 
 
 Thou mak'st my heart 
 
 A bloody mark 
 With piercing shot to bleed. 
 Shoot soft, sweet Love, for fear thou shoot amiss; 
 
 For fear too keen 
 
 Thy arrows been, 
 And hit the heart where my Beloved is. 
 Too fair that fortune were, nor never I 
 
 Shall be so blest. 
 
 Among the rest. 
 That Love shall seize on her by sympathy. 
 Then since with Love my prayers bear no boot. 
 
 This doth remain 
 
 To cease my pain, 
 I take the wound and die at Venus' foot. 
 
 G. Peele 
 
 2gy. To His Lute 
 
 IV yTY lute, awake! perform the last 
 ''--'■ Labour that thou and I shall waste, 
 And end that I have now begun; 
 258 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 For when this song is sung and past. 
 My lute, be still, for I have done. 
 
 As to be heard where ear is none, 
 As lead to grave in marble stone, 
 
 My song may pierce her heart as soon: 
 Should we then sigh, or sing, or moan ? 
 
 No, no, my lute ! for I have done. 
 
 The rocks do not so cruelly 
 Repulse the waves continually. 
 
 As she my suit and affection; 
 So that I am past remedy: 
 
 Whereby my lute and I have done. 
 
 Proud of the spoil that thou hast got 
 Of simple hearts thorough Love's shot. 
 
 By whom, unkind, thou hast them won; 
 Think not he hath his bow forgot. 
 
 Although my lute and I have done. 
 
 Vengeance shall fall on thy disdain, 
 That makest but game of earnest pain; 
 
 Think not alone under the sun 
 Unquit to cause thy lover's plain, 
 
 Although my lute and I have done. 
 
 Perchance they lay wither'd and old 
 The winter nights that are so cold, 
 
 Plaining in vain unto the moon : 
 Thy wishes then dare not be told : 
 
 Care then who list ! for I have done. 
 
 259 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 And then may chance thee to repent 
 The time that thou hast lost and spent 
 
 To cause thy lover's sigh and swoon : 
 Then shalt thou know beauty but lent, 
 
 And wish and want as I have done. 
 
 Now cease, my lute ! this is the last 
 Labour that thou and I shall waste. 
 
 And ended is that we begun: 
 Now is this song both sung and past — 
 
 My lute be still, for I have done. 
 
 Sir T. Wyat 
 
 2g8, The Scorner Scorned 
 
 OHALL I, wasting in despair, 
 *^ Die because a woman's fair } 
 Or make pale my cheeks with care 
 'Cause another's rosy are ? 
 Be she fairer than the day, 
 Or the flowery meads in May — 
 If she think not well of me. 
 What care I how fair she be .? 
 
 Shall my silly heart be pined 
 'Cause I see a woman kind ? 
 Or a well disposed nature 
 Joined 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^ 
 260 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Shall a woman's virtues move 
 Me to perish for her love ? 
 Or her v^ell-deservings known 
 Make me quite forget my 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 bears a noble mind. 
 If not outward helps she find. 
 Thinks what with them he would do 
 Who without them dares her woo; 
 And unless that mind I see, 
 What care I how great she be ? 
 
 Great, or good, or kind, or fair, 
 
 I will ne'er the more despair; 
 
 If she love me, this believe, 
 
 I will die ere she shall grieve; 
 
 If she slight me when I woo, 
 
 I can scorn and let her go; 
 For if she be not for me, 
 What care I for whom she be ? 
 
 G. Wither 
 
 Hence Away, You Sirens 
 
 TTENCE away, you Sirens, leave me, 
 -*- -*- And unclasp your wanton arms; 
 Sug'red words shall ne'er deceive me 
 Though you prove a thousand charms. 
 
 261 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Fie, fie, forbear; 
 
 No common snare 
 Could ever my affection chain; 
 
 Your painted baits 
 
 And poor deceits 
 Are all bestowed on me in vain, 
 
 I'm no slave to such as you be; 
 
 Neither shall a snov^y breast, 
 Wanton eye, or lip of ruby 
 Ever rob me of my rest; 
 
 Go, go, display 
 
 Your beauty's ray 
 To some o'ersoon enamoured swain 
 
 Those common wiles 
 
 Of sighs and smiles 
 Are all bestowed on me in vain. 
 
 I have elsewhere vowed a duty; 
 
 Turn away your tempting eyes. 
 Show not me a naked beauty, 
 Those impostures I despise; 
 
 My spirit loathes 
 
 Where gaudy clothes 
 And feigned oaths may love obtain: 
 
 I love her so 
 
 Whose look swears no, 
 That all your labours will be vain. 
 
 Can he prize the tainted posies 
 Which on every breast are worn, 
 
 That may pluck the spotless roses 
 From their never-touched thorn ? 
 
 262 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 I can go rest '^ ' 
 
 On her sweet breast 
 That is the pride of Cynthia's train; 
 
 Then stay your tongues, 
 
 Your mermaid songs 
 Are all bestowed on me in vain. 
 
 He's a fool that basely dallies 
 
 Where each peasant mates with him; 
 Shall I haunt the thronged vallies, 
 Whilst there's noble hills to climb ? 
 
 No, no, though clowns 
 
 Are scared with frowns, 
 I know the best can but disdain: 
 
 And those I'll prove. 
 
 So shall your love 
 Be all bestowed on me in vain. 
 
 Yet I would not deign embraces 
 
 With the greatest-fairest she 
 If another shared those graces 
 Which had been bestowed on me. 
 I gave that one 
 My love, where none 
 Shall come to rob me of my gain. 
 Your fickle hearts 
 Makes tears, and arts 
 And all, bestowed on me in vain. 
 
 I do scorn to vow a duty 
 
 Where each lustful lad may woo; 
 
 Give me her, whose sun-like beauty 
 Buzzards dare not soar unto : 
 
 263 
 
264 
 
 THE BOOK OF 
 
 She, she it is 
 
 Affords that bhss, 
 For which I would refuse no pain; 
 
 But such as you, 
 
 Fond fools, adieu. 
 You seek to captive me in vain. 
 
 Proud she seemed in the beginning 
 
 And disdained my looking on. 
 
 But that coy one in the winning, 
 
 Proves a true one, being won. 
 
 Whate'er betide 
 
 She'll ne'er divide 
 The favour she to me shall deign; 
 
 But your fond love 
 
 Will fickle prove, 
 And all that trust in you are vain. 
 
 Therefore know, when I enjoy one, 
 And for love employ my breath, 
 She I court shall be a coy one 
 Though I win her with my death. 
 
 A favour there 
 
 Few aim at dare; 
 And if, perhaps, some lover plain; 
 
 She is not won 
 
 Nor I undone 
 By placing of my love in vain. 
 
 Leave me, then, you Sirens, leave me, 
 Seek no more to work my harms. 
 
 Crafty wiles cannot deceive me. 
 
 Who am proof against your charms: 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 You labour may 
 
 To lead astray 
 The heart that constant shall remain; 
 
 And I the while 
 
 Will sit and smile 
 To see you spend your time in vain. 
 
 G. Wither 
 
 A Revocation 
 
 TITHAT should I say? 
 
 * ^ — Since Faith is dead, 
 And Truth away 
 From you is fled ? 
 Should I be led 
 
 With doubleness ? 
 Nay ! nay ! mistress. 
 
 I promised you, 
 
 And you promised me, 
 To be as true 
 As I would be. 
 But since I see 
 Your double heart, 
 Farewell my part ': 
 
 Thought for to take 
 'Tis not my mind; 
 But to forsake 
 One so unkind; 
 And as I find 
 So will I trust 
 Farewell, unjust. 
 
 265 
 
Sir T. Wyat 
 
 THE BOOK OF 
 
 Can ye say nay 
 
 But that you said 
 That I alway 
 
 Should be obeyed ? 
 And — thus betrayed 
 Or that I wist! 
 Farewell, unkist! 
 
 301. A Renunciation 
 
 'T^HOU art not fair, for all thy red and white, 
 -*- For all those rosy ornaments in thee; 
 Thou art not sweet, tho' made of mere delight, 
 
 Nor fair, nor sweet — unless thou pity me. 
 I will not soothe thy fancies: thou shalt prove 
 That beauty is no beauty without love. 
 
 Yet love not me, nor seek thou to allure 
 
 My thoughts with beauty, were it more divine; 
 
 Thy smiles and kisses I cannot endure, 
 
 I'll not be wrapp'd up in those arms of thine: 
 
 Now show it, if thou be a woman right, — 
 
 Embrace and kiss and love me in despite. 
 
 T. Campion 
 
 302. A Renunciation 
 
 "\1l TE, that did nothing study but the way 
 ^ ^ To love each other, with which thoughts the day 
 Rose with delight to us and with them set, 
 Must learn the hateful art, how to forget. . . . 
 266 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 We, that did nothing wish that Heaven could give 
 
 Beyond ourselves, nor did desire to live 
 
 Beyond that wish, all these now cancel must. 
 
 As if not writ in faith, but words and dust. 
 
 Yet witness those clear vows which lovers make, 
 
 Witness the chaste desires that never brake 
 
 Into unruly heats; witness that breast 
 
 Which into thy bosom anchor'd his whole rest — 
 
 *Tis no default in us: I dare acquire 
 
 Thy maiden faith, thy purpose fair and white 
 
 As thy pure self. Cross planets did envy 
 
 Us to each other, and Heaven did untie 
 
 Faster than vows could bind. Oh, that the stars. 
 
 When lovers meet, should stand opposed in wars! 
 
 Since then, some higher Destinies command. 
 
 Let us not strive, nor labour to withstand 
 
 What is past help. The longest date of grief 
 
 Can never yield a hope of our relief: 
 
 Fold back our arms; take home our fruitless loves, 
 
 That must new fortunes try, like turtle-doves 
 
 Dislodged from their haunts. We must in tears 
 
 Unwind a love knit up in many years. 
 
 In this last kiss I here surrender thee 
 
 Back to thyself. — So, thou again art free; 
 
 Thou in another, sad as that, resend 
 
 The truest heart that lover e'er did lend. 
 
 Now turn from each : so fare our severed hearts 
 
 As the divorced soul from her body parts. 
 
 H. King 
 
 267 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 j(9j. O Cruel Love 
 
 r\ CRUEL Love, on thee I lay 
 
 ^-^ My curse, which shall strike blind the day; 
 
 Never may sleep with velvet hand 
 
 Charm thine eyes with sacred wand; 
 
 Thy jailors shall be hopes and fears. 
 
 Thy prison-mates groans, sighs, and tears, 
 
 Thy play to wear out weary times, 
 
 Fantastic passions, vows, and rhymes; 
 
 Thy bread be frowns, thy drink be gall, 
 
 Such as when you Phao call; 
 
 The bed thou liest on be despair. 
 
 Thy sleep fond dreams, thy dreams long care. 
 
 Hope, like thy fool at thy bed's head. 
 
 Mock thee till madness strike thee dead. 
 
 As, Phao, thou dost me with thy proud eyes; 
 
 In thee poor Sappho lives, for thee she dies. 
 
 7' Lyly 
 
 J 04. False Love 
 
 "\ "X THEN Love on time and measure makes his ground, 
 * ' Time that must end, though Love can never die, 
 'Tis Love betwixt a shadow and a sound, 
 A love not in the heart but in the eye; 
 A love that ebbs and flows, now up, now down, 
 A morning's favour, and an evening's frown. 
 268 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Sweet looks show love, yet they are but as beams; 
 
 Fair words seem true, yet they are but as wind; 
 Eyes shed their tears, yet are but outward streams; 
 
 Sighs paint a shadow in the falsest mind. 
 Looks, words, tears, sighs, show love when love they leave. 
 False hearts can weep, sigh, swear, and yet deceive. 
 
 Anon 
 
 30 j. 'Twas I That Paid for All Things 
 
 'T^WAS I that paid for all things, 
 
 -^ 'Twas others drank the wine, 
 I cannot now recall things; 
 
 Live but a fool, to pine. 
 'Twas I that beat the bush. 
 
 The bird to others flew; 
 For she, alas ! hath left me. 
 
 Falero ! lero ! loo! 
 
 If ever that Dame Nature 
 
 (For this false lover's sake) 
 Another pleasing creature 
 
 Like unto her would make; 
 Let her remember this. 
 
 To make the other true! 
 For this, alas ! hath left me. 
 
 Falero ! lero ! loo ! 
 
 No riches now can raise me. 
 No want makes me despair, 
 
 No misery amaze me. 
 
 Nor yet for v^ant I care : 
 
 269 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 I have lost a World itself, 
 My earthly Heaven, adieu ! 
 
 Since she, alas ! hath left me. 
 Falero ! lero ! loo ! 
 
 Anon. 
 
 306. The Recall 0} Love 
 
 TI^AREWELL! thou art too dear for my possessing, 
 ^ And like enough thou know'st thy estimate: 
 The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing; 
 My bonds in thee are all determinate. 
 For how do I hold thee but by thy granting.? 
 And for that riches where is my deserving ? 
 The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting. 
 And so my patent back again is swerving. 
 Thyself thou gav'st, thy own worth then not knowing, 
 Or me, to whom thou gav'st it, else mistaking; 
 So thy great gift, upon misprision growing, 
 Comes home again, on better judgment making. 
 Thus have I had thee, as a dream doth flatter. 
 In sleep a king; but waking, no such matter. 
 
 fF. Shakespeare 
 
 JO/. Take, O Take Those Lips Away 
 
 'T^AKE, O take those lips away, 
 ^ That so sweetly were forsworn; 
 And those eyes, the break of day. 
 Lights that do mislead the morn ! 
 270 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 But my kisses bring again, 
 
 Bring again; 
 Seals of love, but seal'd in vain, 
 
 Seal'd in vain ! 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 jo8, A Recantation 
 
 /^ LOVE, sweet Love, O high and heavenly Love! 
 ^^ The court of pleasures, paradise of rest, 
 Without whose circuit all things bitter prove, 
 Within whose ceinture every wretch is blest: 
 
 grant me pardon, sacred deity, 
 
 1 do recant my former heresy ! 
 
 And thou, the dearest idol of my thought. 
 Whom love I did, and do, and always will : 
 O pardon what my coy disdain hath wrought. 
 My coy disdain, the author of this ill : 
 
 And for the pride that I have show'd before, 
 By Love I swear I'll love thee ten times more. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 jog. The Parting 
 
 O INCE there's no help, come let us kiss and part — 
 "^ Nay, I have done, you get no more of me ; 
 And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart. 
 That thus so cleanly I myself can free. 
 Shake hands forever, cancel all our vows, 
 And when we meet at any time again. 
 Be it not seen in either of our brows 
 That we one jot of former love retain. 
 
 271 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath, 
 When, his pulse failing. Passion- speechless lies, 
 When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death. 
 And Innocence is closing up his eyes, 
 — Now if thou would'st, when all have given him over, 
 From death to life thou might'st him yet recover. 
 
 M. Drayton 
 
 J 10. Love and Death 
 
 'T^HOUGH I am young and cannot tell 
 ■ Either what Death or Love is well. 
 Yet I have heard they both bear darts, 
 And both do aim at human hearts; 
 And then again, I have been told, 
 Love wounds with heat, as Death with cold; 
 So that I fear they do but bring 
 Extremes to touch, and mean one thing. 
 As in a ruin we it call 
 One thing to be blown up, or fall; 
 Or to our end like way may have 
 By a flash of lightning, or a wave: 
 So Love's inflamed shaft or brand. 
 May kill as soon as Death's cold hand ; 
 Except Love's fires the virtue have 
 To fright the frost out of the grave. 
 
 B. Jonson 
 
 jii. A Dirge: Love Is Dead 
 
 T3 ING out your bells, let mourning shews 
 ^^ be spread; 
 
 For Love is dead . 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 All Love is dead, infected 
 With plague of deep disdain : 
 
 Worth, as nought worth, rejected, 
 And Faith, fair scorn doth gain. 
 
 From so ungrateful fancy, 
 
 From such a female franzy. 
 
 From them that use men thus, 
 
 Good Lord, deliver us ! 
 
 Weep, neighbours, v^eep, do you not hear it said 
 That Love is dead ? 
 
 His death-bed, peacock's folly; 
 His winding-sheet is shame; 
 
 His will, false-seeming holy; 
 His sole exec'tor, blame. 
 
 From so ungrateful fancy, 
 
 From such a female franzy, 
 
 From them that use men thus. 
 
 Good Lord, deliver us ! 
 
 Let dirge be sung, and trentals rightly read, 
 For Love is dead. 
 
 Sir Wrong his tomb ordaineth, 
 My mistress' marble heart; 
 
 Which epitaph containeth, 
 " Her eyes were once his dart." 
 
 From so ungrateful fancy. 
 
 From such a female franzy. 
 
 From them that use men thus, 
 
 Good Lord, deliver us ! 
 
 Alas, I lie : rage hath this error bred ; 
 Love is not dead. 
 
 273 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Love is not dead, but sleepeth 
 In her unmatched mind, 
 
 Where she his counsel keepeth, 
 Till due deserts she find. 
 
 Therefore from so vile fancy, 
 
 To call such wit a franzy, 
 
 Who Love can temper thus, 
 
 Good Lord, deliver us! 
 
 Sir P. Sidney 
 
 J 12 . Resolved to Dust 
 
 "P ESOLVED to dust entombed here lieth Love, 
 -■-^ Through fault of her, who here herself should lie; 
 He struck her breast, but all in vain did prove 
 To fire the ice: and doubting by and by 
 His brand had lost his force, he gan to try 
 Upon himself; which trial made him die. 
 
 In sooth no force; let those lament who lust, 
 
 I'll sing a carol song for obsequy; 
 For, towards me his dealings were unjust, 
 And cause of all my passed misery: 
 
 The Fates, I think, seeing what I had passed 
 In my behalf wrought this revenge at last. 
 
 But somewhat more to pacify my mind, 
 
 By illing him, through whom I lived a slave, 
 I'll cast his ashes to the open wind. 
 Or write this epitaph upon his grave: 
 
 Here lieth Love, of Mars the bastard son. 
 Whose fooHsh fault to death himself hath done. 
 
 f. Watson 
 ^1A 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 The Ballad of Dowsabel 
 
 TIj^AR in the country of Arden, 
 
 ^ There wonned a knight, hight Cassamen, 
 
 As bold as Isenbras: 
 Fdl was he and eager bent, 
 In battle and in tournament. 
 
 As was the good Sir Topas. 
 
 He had, as antique stories tell, 
 A daughter cleped Dowsabel, 
 
 A maiden fair and free: 
 And for she was her father's heir. 
 Full well she was yconned the leir 
 
 Of mickle courtesy. 
 
 The silk well couth she twist and twine, 
 And make the fine march-pine, 
 
 And with the needle work : 
 And she could help the priest to say 
 His matins on a holyday, 
 
 And sing a psalm in kirk. 
 
 She wore a frock of frolic green, 
 Might well become a maiden queen. 
 
 Which seemly was to see: 
 A hood to that so neat and fine 
 In colour like the columbine, 
 
 Ywrought full featously. 
 
 Her features all as fresh above. 
 As is the grass that grows by Dove, 
 And lythe as lass of Kent: 
 
 275 • 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Her skin as soft as Lemster wool, 
 As white as snow on Peakish Hull, 
 Or swan that swims in Trent. 
 
 This maiden in a morn betime, 
 
 Went forth when May was in the prime, 
 
 To get sweet setywall, 
 The honey-suckle, the harlock, 
 The lily, and the lady-smock, 
 
 To deck her summer hall. 
 
 Thus as she wandered here and there. 
 And picked of the bloomy briar. 
 
 She chanced to espy 
 A shepherd sitting on a bank, 
 Like chanticleer he crowed crank. 
 
 And piped full merrily. 
 
 He learned his sheep, as he him list, 
 When he would whistle in his fist, 
 
 To feed about him round. 
 Whilst he full many a carol sang. 
 Until the fields and meadows rang, 
 
 And that the woods did sound. 
 
 In favour this same shepherd swain 
 Was like the bedlam Tamberlane, 
 
 Which held proud kings in awe: 
 But meek as any lamb mought be. 
 And innocent of ill as he 
 
 Whom his lewd brother slaw. 
 
 276 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 This shepherd wore a sheep-gray cloak, 
 Which was of the finest loke 
 
 That could be cut with sheer, 
 His mittons were of bauzons' skin. 
 His cockers were of cordiwin. 
 
 His hood of minivere. 
 
 His awl and lingel in a thong, 
 
 His tar-box on his broad belt hung. 
 
 His breech of Cointree blue; 
 Full crisp and curled were his locks, 
 His brows as white as Albion rocks. 
 
 So like a lover true. 
 
 And piping still he spent the day. 
 So merry as the popinjay, 
 
 Which liked Dowsabel; 
 That v/ould she ought, or would she nought, 
 This lad would never from her thought, 
 
 She in love-longing fell. 
 
 At length she tucked up her frock, 
 White as a lily was her smock. 
 
 She drew the shepherd nigh : 
 But then the shepherd piped a good. 
 That all his sheep forsook their food. 
 
 To hear his melody. 
 
 " Thy sheep," quoth she, " cannot be lean, 
 That have a jolly shepherd swain. 
 The which can pipe so well." 
 
 277 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 " Yea, but," said he, " their shepherd may, 
 If piping thus he pine away. 
 In love of Dowsabel." 
 
 "Of love, fond boy, take thou no keep," 
 Quoth she, " look well unto thy sheep. 
 
 Lest they should hap to stray." 
 Quoth he, " So had I done full well, 
 Had I not seen fair Dowsabel 
 
 Come forth to gather May." 
 
 With that she 'gan to vail her head, 
 Her cheeks were like the roses red. 
 
 But not a word she said; 
 With that the shepherd 'gan to frown, 
 He threw his pretty pipes adown. 
 
 And on the ground him laid. 
 
 Saith she, "I may not stay till night. 
 And leave my summer hall undight, 
 
 And all for love of thee." 
 "My cote," saith he, "nor yet my fold, 
 Shall neither sheep nor shepherd hold. 
 
 Except thou favour me." 
 
 Saith she, "Yet liever I were dead. 
 Than I should lose my maidenhead, 
 
 And all for love of men." 
 Saith he, "Yet are you too unkind. 
 If in your heart you cannot find 
 
 To love us now and then. 
 
 278 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 "And I to thee will be as kind, 
 As Colin was to Rosalind, 
 
 Of courtesy the flower." 
 "Then will I be as true," quoth she, 
 "As ever maiden yet might be, 
 
 Unto her paramour." 
 
 With that she bent her snow-white knee, 
 Down by the shepherd kneeled she. 
 
 And him she sweetly kist. 
 With that the shepherd whooped for joy. 
 Quoth he, " There's never shepherd's boy 
 
 That ever was so blist." 
 
 M. Drayton 
 
 314. Song 
 
 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 enjoy'd, it sighing cries, — 
 
 Heigh ho ! 
 
 Love is a torment of the mind, 
 A tempest everlasting; 
 i And Jove hath made it: of a kind 
 
 Not well, nor full, nor fasting. 
 
 279 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Why so ? 
 More we enjoy it, more it dies; 
 If not enjoy'd, it sighing cries, — 
 
 Heigh ho ! 
 
 S. Daniel 
 
 31S. Song 
 
 /^^O and catch a falHng star, . 
 
 ^-^ Get with child a mandrake root, 
 
 Tell me where all past hours are, 
 
 Or who cleft the Devil's foot; 
 Teach me to hear mermaids singing. 
 Or to keep off envy's stinging. 
 
 Or find 
 
 What wind 
 Serves to advance an honest mind. 
 
 If thou be'st born to strange sights. 
 
 Things invisible go see, 
 Ride ten thousand days and nights, 
 Till age snow white hairs on thee. 
 Thou at thy return wilt tell me 
 All strange wonders that befell thee. 
 And swear. 
 Nowhere 
 Lives a woman true and fair. 
 
 If thou find'st one, let me know. 
 Such a pilgrimage were sweet; 
 
 Yet do not, I would not go. 
 
 Though at next door we should meet. 
 280 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Though she were true when you met her, 
 And last till you write your letter, 
 
 Yet she 
 
 Will be 
 False, ere I come, to two or three. 
 
 J. Donne 
 
 ji6. Why So Pale and Wan? 
 
 "\7[ THY so pale and wan, fond lover? 
 
 ' * Prithee, why so pale ? 
 Will, when looking well can't move her, 
 
 Looking ill prevail ? 
 
 Prithee, why so pale ? 
 
 Why so dull and mute, young sinner ? 
 
 Prithee, why so mute ? 
 Will, when speaking well can't win her, 
 
 Saying nothing do 't ? 
 
 Prithee, why so mute ? 
 
 Quit, quit for shame! This will not move; 
 
 This cannot take her. 
 If of herself she will not love. 
 
 Nothing can make her: 
 
 The devil take her ! 
 
 Sir J. Suckling 
 
 ji/. Sweet Love, Renew Thy Force 
 
 OWEET love, renew thy force: be it not said 
 "^ Thine edge shall blunter be than appetite. 
 Which but to-day by feeding is allay'd. 
 To-morrow sharpen'd in his former might: 
 
 38 1 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 So, love, be thou : although to-day thou fill 
 Thy hungry eyes even till they wink with fulness, 
 To-morrow see again, and do not kill 
 The spirit of love with a perpetual dulness. 
 Let this sad interim like the ocean be 
 Which parts the shore, where two contracted new 
 Come daily to the banks, that, when they see 
 Return of love, more bless'd may be the view: 
 Or call it winter, which, being full of care, 
 Makes summer's welcome thrice more wish'd, more rare. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 Ji8. Dor alidads Ditty 
 
 TN time we see that silver drops 
 ■*■ The craggy stones make soft; 
 The slowest snail in time we see 
 Doth creep and climb aloft. 
 
 With feeble puffs the tallest pine 
 
 In tract of time doth fall; 
 The hardest heart in time doth yield 
 
 To Venus' luring call. 
 
 Where chilling frost alate did nip, 
 
 There flasheth now a fire; 
 Where deep disdain bred noisome hate, 
 
 There kindleth now desire. 
 
 Time causeth hope to have his hap; 
 
 What care in time not eased ? 
 
 In time I loathed that now I love. 
 
 In both content and pleased. 
 
 R. Greene 
 282 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 j/p. Familiars Song 
 
 T^IE, fie on blind fancy! 
 -■- It hinders youth's joy: 
 
 Fair virgins, learn by me 
 
 To count Love a toy. 
 When Love learned first the A B C of delight. 
 And knew no figures nor conceited phrase, 
 He simply gave to due desert her right, 
 He led not lovers in dark winding ways; 
 He plainly willed to love, or flatly answered no: 
 But now who lists to prove, shall find it nothing so 
 
 Fie, fie, then, on fancy ! 
 
 It hinders youth's joy: 
 
 Fair virgins, learn by me 
 
 To count Love a toy. 
 For since he learned to use the poet's pen, 
 He learned likewise with smoothing v/ords to feign, 
 Witching chaste ears with trothless tongues of men. 
 And wronged faith with falsehood and disdain. 
 He gives a promise now, anon he sweareth no : 
 Who listeth for to prove, shall find his changing so. 
 
 Fie, fie, then, on fancy ! 
 
 It hinders youth's joy : 
 
 Fair virgins, learn by me 
 
 To count Love a toy. 
 
 R. Greene 
 
 320. Muses That Sing 
 
 IV yrUSES that sing Love's sensual empery, 
 ^^ ^ And lovers kindling your enraged fires 
 At Cupid's bonfires burning in the eye. 
 Blown with the empty breath of vain desires, — 
 
 283 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 You that prefer the painted cabinet 
 Before the wealthy jewels it doth store ye, 
 That all your joys in dying figures set, 
 And stain the living substance of your glory; 
 Abjure those joys, abhor their memory. 
 And let my Love the honoured subject be 
 Of Love, and honour's complete history; 
 Your eyes were never yet let in to see 
 The majesty and riches of the mind. 
 But dwell in darkness; for your god is blind. 
 
 G. Chapmm 
 
 321. I Saw the Object 
 
 I 
 
 SAW the object of my pining thought 
 Within a garden of sweet Nature's placing. 
 Wherein an arbour artificial wrought. 
 By workman's wondrous skill the garden gracing 
 Did boast his glory, glory far renowned. 
 For in his shady boughs my mistress slept: 
 And with a garland of his branches crowned. 
 Her dainty forehead from the sun ykept. 
 Imperious love upon her eyelids tending. 
 Playing his wanton sports at every beck. 
 And into every finest limb descending. 
 From eyes to lips, from lips to ivory neck; 
 And every limb supplied, and t'every part 
 Had free access, but durst not touch her heart. 
 
 T. Watson 
 
 322, Yea or Nay 
 
 A/TADAM, withouten many words 
 
 Once I am sure you will or no; 
 
 284 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 And if you will, then leave your boards, 
 And use your wit and show it so. 
 
 For with a beck you shall me call; 
 
 And if of one that burns alway 
 You have pitie or ruth at ail, 
 
 Answer him fair with yea or nay. 
 
 If it be yea, I shall be fain; 
 
 If it be nay, friends as before; 
 You shall another man obtam. 
 
 And I mine own, and yours no more. 
 
 Sir T. Wyat 
 
 J2J. Upon Her Protesting, That Now Hav- 
 ing Tried His Sincere Ajjection, She 
 Loved Him 
 
 T ADY ! you are with beauties so enriched 
 "^ Of body and of mind; 
 
 As I can hardly find. 
 Which of them all hath most my heart bewitched. 
 
 Whether your skin so white, so smooth, so tender, 
 
 Or face so lovely fair. 
 
 Or long heart-binding hair, 
 Or dainty hand, or leg and foot so slender; 
 
 Or whether your sharp wit and lively spirit, 
 Where pride can find no place; 
 Or your most pleasing grace; 
 
 Or speech, which doth true eloquence inherit. 
 
 285 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Most lovely all, and each of them doth move me 
 More than words can express: 
 But yet I must confess 
 
 I love you most, because you please to love me ! 
 
 F. Davison 
 
 J 2^. The Lowest Trees Have Tops 
 
 nPHE lowest trees have tops, the ant her gall, 
 -*■ The fly her spleen, the little spark his heat; 
 And slender hairs cast shadows, though but small, 
 And bees have stings, although they be not great; 
 Seas have their source, and so have shallow springs; 
 And love is love in beggars and in kings. 
 
 Where waters smoothest run, deep are the fords; 
 The dial stirs, yet none perceives it move; 
 The firmest faith is in the fewest words; 
 The turtles cannot sing, and yet they love; 
 True hearts have eyes and ears, no tongues to speak; 
 They hear, and see, and sigh, and then they break! 
 
 Sir E. Dyer{f) 
 
 325, The Chase 
 
 A RT thou gone in haste ? 
 ■^ ^ I'll not forsake thee; 
 Runn'st thou ne'er so fast, 
 I'll overtake thee: 
 286 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 O'er the dales, o'er the downs, 
 Through the green meadows. 
 
 From the fields through the towns, 
 To the dim shadows. 
 
 All along the plain, 
 
 To the low fountains, 
 Up and down again 
 
 From the high mountains; 
 Echo then shall again 
 
 Tell her I follow. 
 And the floods to the woods 
 
 Carry my holla ! 
 Holla ! 
 Ce! la! ho! ho! hul 
 
 W. Rowley 
 
 No Minute Good to Love 
 
 'T^HE time when first I fell in love, 
 ^ Which npw I must lament; 
 The year wherein I lost such time 
 To compass my content; 
 
 The day wherein. I saw -too- late 
 
 The follies of a lover; 
 The hour wherein I found such loss 
 
 As care cannot recover; 
 
 And last, the minute of mishap 
 Which makes me thus to plain; 
 
 The doleful fruits of lovers' suits. 
 Which labour lose in vain : 
 
 287 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Doth make me solemnly protest, 
 
 As I with pain do prove, 
 There is no time, year, day, nor hour, 
 
 Nor minute, good to love. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 J2/. Did Not the Heavenly Rhetoric of 
 Thine Eye 
 
 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 gain'd cures all disgrace in me. 
 
 Vows are but breath, and breath a vapour is : 
 
 Then thou, fair sun, which on my earth dost shine, 
 
 Exhal'st 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 ? 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 ^28. Song 
 
 OWEETEST love, I do not go 
 ^^ For weariness of thee, 
 Nor in hope the world can show 
 A fitter love for me; 
 288 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 But since that I 
 Must die at last, 'tis best 
 Thus to use myself in jest, 
 
 By feigned death to die. 
 
 Yesternight the sun went hencCy 
 
 And yet is here to-day; 
 
 He hath no desire nor sense, 
 
 Nor half so short a way. 
 
 Then fear not me, 
 
 But believe that I shall make 
 
 Hastier journeys, since I take 
 
 More wings and spurs than he. 
 
 O how feeble is man's power, 
 
 That, if good fortune fall. 
 Cannot add another hour, 
 Nor a lost hour recall. 
 
 But come bad chance, 
 And we join to it our strength, 
 And we teach it art and length, 
 Itself o'er us t' advance. 
 
 When thou sigh'st, thou sigh'st no wind, 
 
 But sigh'st my soul away; 
 When thou weep'st, unkindly kind. 
 My life's blood doth decay. 
 It cannot be 
 That thou lov'st me as thou say'st, 
 If in thine my life thou waste. 
 That art the best of me. 
 
 289 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Let not thy divining heart 
 
 Forethink me any ill. 
 Destiny may take thy part 
 And may thy fears fulfil; 
 But think that we 
 Are but turned aside to sleep: 
 They who one another keep 
 Alive, ne'er parted be. 
 
 J. Donne 
 
 32g. The Strange Passion oj a Lover 
 
 A MID my bale I bathe in bliss, 
 -^ ^ I swim in heaven, I sink in hell; 
 I find amends for every miss 
 
 And yet my moan no tongue can tell. 
 I live and love, what would you more ? 
 As never lover lived before. 
 
 I laugh sometimes with little lust, 
 
 So jest I oft and feel no joy; 
 Mine ease is builded all on trust, 
 
 And yet mistrust breeds my annoy. 
 I live and lack, I lack and have, 
 I have and miss the thing I crave. 
 
 These things seem strange, yet are they true; 
 
 Believe me, sweet, my state is such. 
 One pleasure which I would eschew 
 
 Both slakes my grief and breeds my grutcho 
 So doth one pain which I would shun 
 Renew my joys, where grief begun. 
 290 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 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, 
 That knows't 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. 
 
 G. Gascoigne 
 
 S30. A Bequest of His Heart 
 
 TTENCE, hairt, with her that must depart, 
 -^ -*■ And hald thee with thy soverane ! 
 For I had liever want ane heart. 
 
 Nor have the heart that dois me pain. 
 
 Therefore, go, with thy luve remain 
 And let me leif thus unmolest; 
 
 And see that thou come not again. 
 But bide with her thou luvis best. 
 
 291 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Sen she that I have servit lang 
 
 Is to depart so suddenly, 
 Address thee now, for thou sail gang 
 
 And bear thy lady company. 
 
 Fra she be gone, heartless am I, 
 For quhy ? thou art with her possest. 
 
 Therefore, my heart, go hence in highg 
 And bide with her thou luvis best. 
 
 Though this belappit body here 
 
 Be bound to servitude and thrall, 
 My faithful heart is free entier 
 
 And mind to serve my lady at all. 
 
 Would God that I were perigall 
 Under that redolent rose to rest ! 
 
 Yet at the least, my heart, thou sail 
 Abide with her thou luvis best. 
 
 Sen in your garth the lily quhyte 
 
 May not remain amang the laif, 
 Adieu the flower of whole delite ! 
 
 Adieu the succour that may me saif! 
 
 Adieu the fragrant balme suaif, 
 And lamp of ladies lustiest! 
 
 My faithful heart she shall it haif 
 To bide with her it luvis best. 
 
 Deploir, ye ladies cleir of hue. 
 
 Her absence, sen she must depart! 
 And, specially, ye luveris true 
 
 That wounded bene with Luvis dart. 
 292 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 For some of you sail want ane heart 
 As well as I; therefore at last 
 
 Do go with mine, with mind inwart, 
 And bide with her thou luvis best. 
 
 A. Scott 
 
 Shall I Come J Sweet Love to Thee 
 
 OHALL 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. 
 
 But to let such dangers pass. 
 
 Which a lover's thoughts disdain, 
 
 'Tis 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. 
 
 T. Campio 
 
 293, 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 JJ2. Discreet 
 
 ' /^PEN the door! Who's there within? 
 ^-^ The fairest of thy mother's kin ? 
 
 come, come, come abroad 
 And hear the shrill birds sing. 
 
 The air with tunes that load. 
 It is too soon to go to rest. 
 The sun not midway yet to west, 
 
 The day doth miss thee 
 And will not part until it kiss thee.* 
 
 * Were I as fair as you pretend. 
 Yet to an unknown seld-seen friend 
 
 1 dare not ope the door: 
 To hear the sweet birds sing 
 Oft proves a dangerous thing. 
 The sun may run his wonted race 
 And yet not gaze on my poor face; 
 
 The day may miss me: 
 Therefore depart, you shall not kiss me.* 
 
 Artbn. 
 
 333' Song 
 
 /'^NLY joy ! now here you are, 
 ^-^ Fit to hear and ease my care. 
 Let my whispering voice obtain 
 Sweet reward for sharpest pain. 
 Take me to thee, and thee to me! 
 "JVo, no, no, no, my Dear! let he. 
 294 
 
 I 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Night hath closed all in her cloak, 
 Twinkling stars love-thoughts provoke, 
 Danger hence, good care doth keep; 
 Jealousy itself doth sleep. 
 Take me to thee, and thee to me! 
 *' Noy nOy noy noy my Dear! let he.'* 
 
 Better place no wit can find, 
 Cupid's knot to loose or bind; 
 These sweet flowers our fine bed too, 
 Us in their best language woo. 
 Take me to thee, and thee to me! 
 " Noy nOy nOy nOy my Dear! let Jbe.** 
 
 This small light the moon bestows. 
 Serves thy beams but to disclose: 
 So to raise my hap more high. 
 Fear not else ! none can us spy. 
 Take me to thee, and thee to me ! 
 " Noy nOy nOy nOy my Dear! let be.'* 
 
 That you heard was but a mouse, 
 
 Dumb Sleep holdeth all the house: 
 
 Yet asleep, methinks they say 
 
 * Young fools, take time while you may!^ 
 
 Take me to thee, and thee to me ! 
 
 " Noy nOy nOy nOy my Dear! let he." 
 
 Niggard time threats, if we miss 
 This large offer of our bliss; 
 
 295 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Long stay ere he grant the same. 
 Sweet! then, while each thing doth frame. 
 Take me to thee, and thee to me! 
 " iVo, «o, no, no, my Dear! let he" 
 
 Your fair mother is abed, 
 Candles out, and curtains spread: 
 She thinks you do letters write. 
 Write! but let me first indite 
 * Take me to thee, and thee to me ! ' 
 " Noy nOy nOy noy my Dear! let be.** 
 
 Sweet ! alas, why strive you thus ? 
 ConcoiH better fitteth us. 
 Leave to Mars the force of hands; 
 Your power in your beauty stands. 
 Take thee to me, and me to thee ! 
 '^ Noy nOy nOy nOy my Dear! let he** 
 
 Woe to me ! and do you swear 
 
 Me to hate, but I forbear ? 
 
 Cursed be my destinies all ! 
 
 That brought me so high to fall. 
 
 Soon with my death I will please thee ! 
 
 '* Noy nOy nOy nOy my Dear! let he." 
 
 Sir P. Sidney 
 
 jj^. The Dream 
 
 T^EAR love, for nothing less than thee 
 ^^ Would I have broke this happy dream; 
 
 It was a theme 
 For reason, much too strong for fantasy. 
 296 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Therefore thou waked'st me wisely; yet 
 My dream thou brak'st not, but continued'st it: 
 Thou art so true that thoughts of thee suffice 
 To make dreams truths and fables histories. 
 Enter these arms, for since thou thought'st it best 
 Not to dream all my dream, let's act the rest. 
 
 As lightning, or a taper's light, 
 
 Thine eyes, and not thy noise, waked me; 
 
 Yet I thought thee — 
 For thou lov'st truth — an angel at first sight; 
 But when I saw thou saw'st my heart, 
 And knew' St my thoughts beyond an angel's art. 
 When thou knew'st what I dreamt, when thou knew'st 
 
 when 
 Excess of joy would wake me, and cam'st then, 
 I must confess it could not choose but be 
 Profane to think thee anything but thee. 
 
 Coming and staying show'd thee thee; 
 But rising makes me doubt that now 
 
 Thou art not thou. 
 That Love is weak where Fear's as strong as he; 
 'Tis not all spirit pure and brave, 
 If mixture it of Fear, Shame, Honour have. 
 Perchance, as torches, which must ready be. 
 Men light and put out, so thou dealst with me. 
 Thou cam'st to kindle, goest to come : then I 
 Will dream that hope again, but else would die. 
 
 J. Donne 
 
 297 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 335' ^ong 
 
 298 
 
 r\ DEAR life, when shall it be 
 
 ^-^ That mine eyes thine eyes shall see. 
 
 And in them thy mind discover, 
 
 Whether absence have had force 
 
 Thy remembrance to divorce 
 
 From the image of the lover ? 
 
 Or if I myself find not, 
 
 After parting, aught forgot. 
 
 Nor debarred from Beauty's treasure, 
 
 Let no tongue aspire to tell 
 
 In what high joys I shall dwell : 
 
 Only Thought aims at the pleasure. 
 
 Thought, therefore, I will send thee 
 To take up the place for me; 
 Long I will not after tarry; 
 There, unseen, thou may'st be bold. 
 Those fair wonders to behold, 
 Which in them my hopes do carry. 
 
 Thought, see thou no place forbear, 
 Enter bravely everywhere, 
 Seize on all to her belonging; 
 But if thou wouldst guarded be. 
 Fearing her beams, take with thee 
 Strength of liking, rage of longing. 
 
 Think of that most grateful time 
 When my leaping heart will climb 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 In thy lips to have his biding, 
 There those roses for to kiss, 
 Which do breathe a sugared bliss 
 Opening rubies, pearls dividing. 
 
 Think of my most princely power 
 When I blessed shall devour 
 With my greedy lickorous senses 
 Beauty, music, sweetness, love. 
 While she doth against me prove 
 Her strong darts but weak defences. 
 
 Think, think of those dallyings, 
 When with dovelike murmurings. 
 With glad moaning, passed anguish, 
 We change eyes, and heart for heart 
 Each to other do depart. 
 Joying till joy makes us languish. 
 
 O my Thought, my thoughts surcease, 
 
 Thy delights my woes increase, 
 
 My life melts with too much thinking; 
 
 Think no more, but die in me. 
 
 Till thou shalt revived be, 
 
 At her lips my nectar drinking. 
 
 Sir P. Sidney 
 
 jj6. N^oserez Vous, Mon Bel Ami? 
 
 O WEET Adon, darest not glance thine eye — 
 ^^ N'oserez vous, mon het ami? — 
 Upon thy Venus that must die ^. 
 "Je vous en prie, pity me; 
 
 299 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 N'oserez vous, mon hel, mon hely 
 N'oserez vous^ mon hel ami ? 
 
 See how sad thy Venus lies, — 
 N'oserez vouSy mon hel ami ? — 
 
 Love in heart, and tears in eyes; 
 Je vous en prie, pity me ; 
 
 N'oserez vous, mon hel, mon hel, 
 
 N'oserez vous, mon hel ami ? 
 
 Thy face as fair as Paphos' brooks, — 
 
 N'oserez vous, mon hel ami? — 
 Wherein fancy baits her hooks; 
 
 Je vous en prie, pity me; 
 N'oserez vous, mon hel, mon hel, 
 N'oserez vous, mon hel ami? 
 
 Thy cheeks like cherries that do grow — 
 N'oserez vous, mon hel ami ? — 
 
 Amongst the western mounts of snow; 
 Je vous en prie, pity me; 
 
 N'oserez vous, mon hel, mon hely 
 
 N'oserez vous, mon hel ami ? 
 
 Thy lips vermilion, full of love, — ■ 
 
 N'oserez vous, mon hel ami ? — 
 Thy neck as silver white as dove; 
 
 Je vous en prie, pity me; 
 N'oserez vous, mon hel, mon hel, 
 N'oserez vous, mon hel ami ? 
 
 Thine eyes, like flames of holy fires, — 
 
 N'oserez vouSy mon hel ami ? 
 300 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Burn all my thoughts with sweet desires; 
 
 'Je vous en prie, pity me; 
 N'oserez vous, mon bely mon bel, 
 N'oserez vous, mon bel ami? 
 
 All thy beauties sting my heart; — 
 
 N'oserez vous, mon bel ami ? — 
 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 F 
 
 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 ? R. Gn 
 
 33y. P an glory s Wooing Song 
 
 nPHEREFORE, above the rest, Ambition sat. 
 ^ His Court with glitterant pearl was all enwalled 
 And round about the wall, in Chairs of State 
 And most majestic splendour, were installed 
 
 301 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 A hundred Kings: whose temples were impaled 
 In golden diadems, set here and there 
 With diamonds, and gemmed everywhere; 
 And of their golden verges none disceptred were 
 
 High over all, Panglory's blazing throne, 
 
 (In her bright turret, all of crystal wrought) 
 Like Phoebus' lamp in the midst of heaven shone: 
 Whose starry top (with pride infernal fraught) 
 Self-arching columns, to uphold were taught. 
 In which her image still reflected was, 
 By the smooth crystal; that, most like her glass, 
 In beauty, and in frailty, did all others pass. 
 
 A silver wand, the Sorceress did sway : 
 
 And for a crown of gold, her hair she wore; 
 
 Only a garland of rosebuds did play 
 
 About her locks; and in her hand she bore 
 A hollow globe of glass, that long before 
 
 She full of emptiness had bladdered, 
 
 And all the world therein depictured ; 
 
 Whose colours, like the rainbow, ever vanished. 
 
 Such wat'ry orbicles young boys do blow 
 Out of their soapy shells; and much admire 
 
 The swimming world, which tenderly they row 
 With easy breath, till it be waved higher: 
 But if they chance but roughly once aspire, 
 
 The painted bubble instantly doth fall ! 
 
 Here, when she came, she gan for music call; 
 
 And sung this Wooing Song, to welcome him withal : 
 302 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Love is the blossom where there blows 
 
 Everything that lives or grows : 
 
 Love doth make the Heav'ns to move, 
 
 And the Sun doth burn in love : 
 
 Love the strong and weak doth yoke, 
 
 And makes the ivy climb the oak, 
 
 Under whose shadows lions wild, 
 
 Softened by love, grow tame and mild: 
 
 Love no med'cine can appease. 
 
 He burns the fishes in the seas : 
 
 Not all the skill his wounds can stench, 
 
 Not all the sea his fire can quench. 
 
 Love did make the bloody spear 
 
 Once a leavy coat to wear. 
 
 While in his leaves there shrouded lay 
 
 Sweet birds, for love that sing and play. 
 
 And of all love's joyful flame 
 
 I the bud and blossom am. 
 
 Only bend thy knee to me. 
 
 Thy wooing shall thy winning be! 
 
 See, see the flowers that below 
 Now as fresh as morning blow; 
 And of all the virgin rose 
 That as bright Aurora shows; 
 How they all unleaved die, 
 Losing their virginity! 
 Like unto a summer shade. 
 But now born, and now they fade. 
 Everything doth pass away; 
 There is danger in delay: 
 
 303 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Come, come, gather then the rose, 
 Gather it, or it you lose ! 
 All the sand of Tagus' shore 
 Into my bosom casts his ore: 
 All the valleys' swimming corn 
 To my house is yearly borne: 
 Every grape of every vine 
 Is gladly bruised to make me v^ine : 
 While ten thousand kings, as proud, 
 To carry up my train have bov^ed, 
 And a world of ladies send me 
 In my chambers to attend me: 
 All the stars in Heav'n that shine, 
 And ten thousand more, are mine: 
 Only bend thy knee to me. 
 Thy wooing shall thy winning be! 
 
 Thus sought the dire Enchantress, in his mind 
 
 Her guileful bait to have embossomed : 
 But He, her charms dispersed into wind; 
 
 And, of her insolence admonished ! 
 
 And all her optic glasses shattered ! 
 So, with her Sire, to Hell she took her flight 
 (The starting air flew from the damned sprite!) 
 Where deeply both, aggrieved, plunged themselves in night. 
 
 But to their Lord, now musing in his thought, 
 A heavenly volley of light angels flew; 
 
 And from his Father, him a banquet brought 
 Through the fine Element: for well they knew, 
 After his Lenten Fast, he hungry grew. 
 304 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 And as he fed, the holy quires combine 
 To sing a Hymn of the celestial Trine: 
 All thought to pass; and each was, past all thought, divine. 
 
 The birds' sweet notes, to sonnet out their joys. 
 
 Attempered to the Lays Angelical ! 
 And to the birds, the winds attune their noise! 
 
 And to the winds, the waters hoarsely call! 
 
 And ECHO, back again revoiced all 1 
 That the whole valley rung with Victory! 
 But now our Lord, to rest doth homeward fly. 
 See, how the Night comes stealing from the mountains high ! 
 
 G. Fletcher 
 
 338. Ode 
 
 A /TY only star, 
 
 ivX Why, why are your dear eyes. 
 Where all my life's peace lies. 
 
 With me at war ? 
 Why to my ruin tending, 
 Do they still lighten woe 
 On him that loves you so, 
 That all his thoughts in you have birth and ending.? 
 
 Hope of my heart, 
 O wherefore do the words. 
 Which your sweet tongue affords, 
 
 No hope impart t 
 But cruel without measure. 
 To my eternal pain. 
 Still thunder forth disdain 
 On him whose life depends upon your pleasure ? 
 
 305 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Sunshine of joy, 
 Why do your gestures, which 
 All eyes and hearts bewitch, 
 
 # My bliss destroy ? 
 And pity's sky o'erclouding. 
 Of hate an endless shower 
 On that poor heart still pour. 
 Which in your bosom seeks his only shrouding? 
 
 Balm of my wound. 
 Why are your lines, whose sight 
 Should cure me with delight, 
 
 My poison found ? 
 Which, through my veins dispersing, 
 Doth make my heart and mind 
 And all my senses, find 
 A living death in torments past rehearsing ? 
 
 Alas! my fate 
 Hath of your eyes deprived me, 
 Which both killed and revived me 
 
 And sweetened hate; 
 Your sweet voice and sweet graces, 
 Which clothed in lovely weeds 
 Your cruel words and deeds. 
 Are intercepted by far distant places. 
 
 But, O the anguish 
 Which presence still presented. 
 Absence hath not absented. 
 
 Nor made to languish; 
 306 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 No, no, to increase my paining, 
 The cause being, ah ! removed 
 For which the effect I loved. 
 The effect is still in greatest force remaining. 
 
 O cruel tiger ! 
 If to your hard heart's center 
 Tears, vows, and prayers may entefj 
 
 Desist your rigour; 
 And let kind lines assure me, 
 Since to my deadly wound 
 No salve else can be found. 
 That you that kill me, yet at length will cure me. 
 
 F. Davison 
 
 Jjp. The One I Would Love 
 
 A FACE that should content me wondrous well 
 '^ ^ Should not be fair, but lovely to behold ; 
 Of lively look, all grief for to repel 
 
 With right good grace, so would I that it should 
 Speak without word, such words as none can tell; 
 
 Her tress also should be of crisped gold. 
 With wit, and these, perchance, I might be tried. 
 And knit again with knot that should not slide. 
 
 Sir r. Wyat 
 
 340. There Is None, O None But You 
 
 TTHERE is none, O none but you, 
 -*■ That from me estrange your sight, 
 W^hom mine eyes affect to view 
 Or chained ears hear with delight. 
 
 307 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Other beauties others move, 
 
 In you I all graces find; 
 Such is the effect of Love, 
 
 To make them happy that are kind. 
 
 Women in frail beauty trust, 
 
 Only seem you fair to me; 
 Yet prove truly kind and just. 
 
 For that may not dissembled be. 
 
 Sweet, afford me then your sight! 
 
 That, surveying all your looks, 
 Endless volumes I may w^rite 
 
 And fill the world with envied books: 
 
 Which when after-ages view. 
 
 All shall wonder and despair, — 
 
 Woman to find man so true. 
 Or man a woman half so fair. 
 
 jT. Campion 
 
 J41. Montana the Shepherd, His Love to 
 Aminta 
 
 T SERVE Aminta, whiter than the snow, 
 
 -*- Straighter than cedar, brighter than the glass; 
 
 More fine in trip than foot of running roe. 
 
 More pleasant than the field of flowering grass; 
 More gladsome to my withering joys that fade 
 Than winter's sun or summer's cooling shade. 
 308 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Sweeter than swelling grape of ripest wine, 
 Softer than feathers of the fairest swan; 
 
 Smoother than jet, more stately than the pine. 
 Fresher than poplar, smaller than my span; 
 
 Clearer than Phoebus' fiery-pointed beam. 
 
 Or icy crust of crystal's frozen stream. 
 
 Yet is she curster than the bear by kind, 
 And harder-hearted than the aged oak; 
 
 More glib than oil, more fickle than the wind, 
 More stiff than steel, no sooner bent but broke. 
 
 Lo ! thus my service is a lasting sore. 
 
 Yet will I serve, although I die therefore. 
 
 A. Munday 
 
 J 42. . Canzonet 
 
 To His Coy Love 
 
 T PRAY thee, leave, 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 riverets branched. 
 Where, whilst mine eye with plenty feasts, 
 
 Yet is my thirst not stanched; 
 
 309 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 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 arms, 
 
 Nor thy life's comfort call me, 
 O these are but too powerful charms. 
 
 And do but more enthral me ! 
 But see how patient I am grown 
 
 In all this coil about thee; 
 Come, nice thing, let my heart alone, 
 
 I cannot live without thee ! 
 
 M. Drayton 
 
 j^j. To a Gentlewoman 
 
 That Always Willed Him to Wear Rosemary for Her Sake 
 in Token of Good-will to Her 
 
 ' I ^HE green that you did wish me wear 
 ■^ Aye for your love, 
 
 And on my helm a branch to bear 
 
 Not to remove, 
 Was ever you to have a mind. 
 Whom Cupid hath my fere assigned. 
 
 As I in this have done your will. 
 
 And mind to do; 
 So I request you to fulfil 
 
 My fancy too; 
 A green and loving heart to have, 
 And this is all that I do crave. 
 310 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 For if your flowering heart should change 
 
 His colour green, 
 Or you at length a lady strange 
 
 Of me be seen; 
 Then will my branch against his use 
 His colour change for your refuse. 
 
 As winter's force can not deface 
 
 This branch his hue, 
 So let no change of love disgrace 
 
 Your friendship true: 
 You were mine own and be so still, 
 So shall we live and love our fill. 
 
 Then may I think my self to be 
 
 Well recompensed. 
 For wearing of the tree that is 
 
 So well defenced 
 Against all weather that doth fall 
 When wayward winter spits his gall. 
 
 And when we meet, to try me true, 
 
 Look on my head. 
 And I will crave an oath of you, 
 
 Where faith be fled ? 
 So shall we both assured be, 
 Both I of you, and you of me ? 
 
 G. TurherviUe 
 
 311 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 344, The Gift 
 
 TI^AIN would I have a pretty thing 
 -^ To give unto my Lady: 
 I name no thing, nor I mean no thing 
 But as pretty a thing as may be. 
 
 Tw^enty journeys would I make, 
 And twenty ways would hie me, 
 
 To make adventure for her sake, 
 To set some matter by me: 
 But fain would I have . . . 
 
 Some do long for pretty knacks, 
 And some for strange devices : 
 
 God send me that my Lady lacks, 
 I care not what the price is. 
 Thus fain . . . 
 
 I walk the town and tread the street, 
 
 In every corner seeking 
 The pretty thing I cannot meet, 
 
 That's for my Lady's liking: 
 For fain . . . 
 
 The mercers pull me, going by. 
 
 The silk-wives say * What lack ye ? * 
 ' The thing you have not,' then say I : 
 * Ye foolish knaves, go pack ye ! ' 
 But fain . . . 
 312 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 It is not all the silk in Cheap, 
 
 Nor all the golden treasure; 
 Nor twenty bushels on a heap 
 
 Can do my Lady pleasure. 
 But fain . . . 
 
 But were it in the wit of man 
 
 By any means to make it, 
 I could for money buy it than, 
 
 And say, * Fair Lady, take it 1 ' 
 Thus fain ... 
 
 O Lady, what a luck is this. 
 
 That my good willing misseth 
 To find what pretty thing it is 
 That my Good Lady wisheth ! 
 
 Thus fain would I have had this pretty thing 
 
 To give unto my Lady; 
 I said no harm, nor I meant no harm, 
 But as pretty a thing as may be. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 345. Loving in Truth, and Fain in Verse 
 My Love to Show 
 
 T OVING in truth, and fain in verse my love to show, 
 ^^ That She, dear She, might take some pleasure of my 
 
 pain; 
 Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her 
 
 know. 
 Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain; 
 
 313 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe, 
 Studying inventions fine, her wits to entertain; 
 Oft turning others' leaves, to see if thence would flow 
 Some fresh and fruitful showers upon my sunburned brain. 
 But words came halting forth, wanting Invention's stay; 
 Invention, Nature's child, fled step-dame Study's blows; 
 And others' feet still seemed but strangers in my way. 
 Thus, great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes. 
 Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite, 
 " Fool," said my Muse to me, " look in thy heart, and 
 write ! " 
 
 Sir P. Sidney 
 
 j^6, Montanus^ Vow 
 
 THIRST shall the heavens want starry light, 
 ^ The seas be robbed of their waves; 
 The day want sun, the sun want bright. 
 The night want shade and dead men graves; 
 The April, flowers and leaf and tree, 
 Before I false my faith to thee. 
 
 First shall the tops of highest hills 
 
 By humble plains be overpry'd; 
 
 And poets scorn the Muses' quills. 
 
 And fish forsake the water-glide; 
 And Iris lose her colour'd weed 
 Before I fail thee at thy need. 
 
 314 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 First direful Hate shall turn to Peace, 
 And Love relent in deep disdain; 
 And Death his fatal stroke shall cease, 
 And Envy pity every pain; 
 
 And Pleasure mourn, and Sorrow smile, 
 
 Before I talk of any guile. 
 
 First Time shall stay his stayless race. 
 And Winter bless his brows with corn; 
 And snow bemoisten July's face. 
 And Winter spring and summer mourn. 
 
 Before my pen by help of Fame 
 
 Cease to recite thy sacred name. 
 
 T. Lodge 
 
 J4y. Since Brass, Nor Stone 
 
 O INCE brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, 
 ^^ But sad mortality o'ersways their power. 
 How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea. 
 Whose action is no stronger than a flower ? 
 O, how shall summer's honey breath hold out 
 Against the wreckful siege of battering days, 
 When rocks impregnable are not so stout, 
 Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays .? 
 O fearful meditation ! Where, alack ! 
 Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid ? 
 Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back i 
 Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid ? 
 O none, unless this miracle have might, 
 That in black ink my love may still shine bright, 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 315 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 348. Stella, Think Not 
 
 OTELLA, think not that I by verse seek fame, 
 ^^ Who seek, who hope, who love, who live but thee; 
 Thine eyes my pride, thy lips mine history : 
 If thou praise not, all other praise is shame. 
 Nor so ambitious am I as to frame 
 A nest for my young praise in laurel tree : 
 In truth, I swear, I wish not there should be 
 Graved in my epitaph a poet's name. 
 Ne, if I would, could I just title make. 
 That any laud thereof to me should grow, 
 Without my plumes from others' wings I take : 
 For nothing from my wit or will doth flow, 
 Since all my words thy beauty doth indite, 
 And Love doth hold my hand, and makes me write. 
 
 Sir P. Sidney 
 
 J4g. Love Unalterable 
 
 T FT me not to the marriage of true minds 
 -' — ' Admit impediments. Love is not love 
 
 Which alters when it alteration finds, 
 
 Or bends with the remover to remove : 
 
 O, no ! it is an ever-fixed mark. 
 
 That looks on tempests and is never shaken ; 
 
 It is the star to every wand'ring bark. 
 
 Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. 
 
 Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks 
 
 Within his bending sickle's compass come; 
 316 
 
p. 
 
 ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, 
 
 But bears it out even to the edge of doom : — 
 
 If this be error and upon me proved, 
 
 I never writ, nor no man ever loved. 
 
 fV. Shakespeare 
 
 j^o. Syrinx 
 
 )AN'S Syrinx was a girl indeed. 
 
 Though now she's turned into a reed ; 
 From that dear reed Pan's pipe does come, 
 A pipe that strikes Apollo dumb; 
 Nor flute, nor lute, nor gittern can 
 So chant it as the pipe of Pan : 
 Cross-gartered swains and dairy girls. 
 With faces smug and round as pearls. 
 When Pan's shrill pipe begins to play, 
 With dancing wear out night and day; 
 The bagpipe's drone his hum lays by, 
 . When Pan sounds up his minstrelsy; 
 His minstrelsy ! O base ! this quill. 
 Which at my mouth with wind I fill, 
 Puts me in mind, though her I miss. 
 That still my Syrinx' lips I kiss. 
 
 J. Lyly 
 
 3 SI. The Merry Cuckoo, Messenger 0} Spring 
 
 HPHE merry Cuckoo, messenger of Spring, 
 
 His trumpet shrill hath thrice already sounded; 
 That warns all lovers wait upon their king, 
 Who now is coming forth with garland crowned. 
 With noise whereof the quire of birds resounded 
 
 317 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Their anthems sweet devised of Love's praise; 
 
 That all the woods their echoes back rebounded, 
 
 As if they knew the meaning of their lays. 
 
 But 'mongst them all which did Love's honour raise, 
 
 No word was heard of her that most it ought: 
 
 But she his precept idly disobeys, 
 
 And doth his idle message set at nought. 
 
 Therefore, O Love, unless she turn to thee 
 
 Ere Cuckoo end, let her a rebel be! 
 
 E. Spenser 
 
 3S2. To His Book 
 
 TTAPPY ye leaves when as those lily hands, 
 •*■ -^ Which hold my life in their dead-doing might. 
 Shall handle you, and hold in love's soft bands, 
 Like captives trembling at the victor's sight: 
 And happy lines, on which with starry light 
 Those lamping eyes will deign sometimes to look 
 And read the sorrows of my dying sprite. 
 Written with tears in heart's close bleeding book: 
 And happy rhymes, bathed in the sacred brook 
 Of Helicon, whence she derived is. 
 When ye behold that angel's blessed look. 
 My soul's long lacked food, my heaven's bliss: 
 Leaves, lines, and rhymes, seek her to please alone. 
 Whom if ye please, I care for other none. 
 
 E. Spenser 
 
 353' Laura 
 
 ► OSE-CHEEK'D Laura, come; 
 
 Sing thou smoothly with thy beauty's 
 Silent music, either other 
 Sweetly gracing. 
 318 
 
 R^ 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Lovely forms do flow 
 From concent divinely framed : 
 Heaven is music, and thy beauty's 
 Birth is heavenly. 
 
 These dull notes we sing 
 Discords need for helps to grace them; 
 Only beauty purely loving 
 Knows no discord; 
 
 But still moves delight, 
 Like clear springs rencvv'd by flowing, 
 Ever perfect, ever in them- 
 Selves eternal. 
 
 T. Campion 
 
 SS4' Let Others Sing of Knights and Paladines 
 
 T ET others sing of Knights and Paladines, 
 
 -* — ' In aged accents and untimely words, 
 
 Paint shadows in imaginary lines, 
 
 Which well the reach of their high wit records. 
 
 But I must sing of thee, and those fair eyes 
 
 Authentic shall my verse in time to come, 
 
 When yet th' unborn shall say, Lo where she lies ! 
 
 Whose beauty made him speak, that else was dumb ! 
 
 These are the arcs, the trophies I erect. 
 
 That fortify thy name against old age; 
 
 And these thy sacred virtues must protect 
 
 Against the Dark, and Time's consuming rage. 
 
 Though th' error of my youth in them appear, 
 
 Suffice, they show I lived, and loved thee dear. 
 
 S. Daniel 
 319 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 3^^. Fair Hebe 
 
 T^AIR Hebe, when dame Flora meets, 
 ■'■ She trips and leaps as gallants do; 
 Up to the hills and down again 
 
 To the vallies runs she to and fro. 
 But out, alas ! when frosty locks 
 
 Begirds the head with cark and care; 
 Peace ! laugh no more, let pranks go by, 
 
 Slow-crawling age forbids such ware. 
 
 Anon, 
 
 3^6. On Lucy, Countess oj Bedford 
 
 nPHIS morning timely wrapt with holy fire, 
 -*- I thought to form unto my zealous Muse, 
 What kind of creature I could most desire 
 To know, serve, and love, as Poets use. 
 I meant to make her fair, and free, and wise. 
 Of greatest blood, and yet more good than great; 
 I meant the day-star should not brighter rise. 
 Nor lend like influence from his lucent seat; 
 I meant she should be courteous, facile, sweet. 
 Hating that solemn vice of greatness, pride; 
 I meant each softest virtue there should meet. 
 Fit in that softer bosom to reside. 
 Only a learned, and a manly soul 
 I purposed her: that should with even powers, 
 The rock, the spindle, and the shears control 
 Of Destiny, and spin her own free hours. 
 Such when I meant to feign, and wished to see. 
 My Muse bade BEDFORD write, and that was she ! 
 
 B. yonson 
 320 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 357- Clear Anker ^ on Whose Silver-Sanded 
 Shore 
 
 /'"^LEAR Anker, on whose silver-sanded shore 
 
 ^~^ My soul-shrined saint, my fair Idea, lies; 
 
 O blessed brook, whose milk-white swans adore 
 
 Thy crystal stream, refined by her eyes ! 
 
 There sweet myrrh-breathing Zephyr in the spring 
 
 Gently distils his nectar-dropping showers. 
 
 Where nightingales in Arden sit and sing 
 
 Amongst the dainty dew-impearled flowers; 
 
 Say thus, fair brook, when thou shalt see thy queen, — 
 
 " Lo, here thy shepherd spent his wandering years. 
 
 And in these shades, dear nymph, he oft hath been, 
 
 And here to thee he sacrificed his tears." 
 
 Fair Arden, thou my Tempe art alone. 
 
 And thou, sweet Anker, art my Helicon. 
 
 M. Drayton 
 
 3^8. I Must Not Grieve My Love, Whose 
 Eyes Would Read 
 
 T MUST not grieve my Love, whose eyes would read 
 -'- Lines of delight, whereon her youth might smile; 
 Flowers have time before they come to seed. 
 And she is young, and now must sport the while. 
 And sport. Sweet Maid, in season of these years, 
 And learn to gather flowers before they wither; 
 And where the sweetest blossom first appears. 
 Let Love and Youth conduct thy pleasures thither. 
 Lighten forth smiles to clear the clouded air, 
 
 321 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 And calm the tempest which my sighs do raise; 
 Pity and smiles do best become the fair; 
 Pity and smiles must only yield the praise. 
 Make me to say when all my griefs are gone, 
 Happy the heart that sighed for such a one. 
 
 S. Daniel 
 
 JSp. Down in a Valley, by a Foresfs Side 
 
 T~^OWN in a valley, by a forest's side, 
 
 ■*-^^ Near where the crystal Thames rolls on her waveSj 
 
 I saw a mushroom stand in haughty pride. 
 
 As if the lilies grew to be his slaves; 
 
 The gentle daisy, with her silver crown. 
 
 Worn in the breast of many a shepherd's lass. 
 
 The humble violet, that lowly down 
 
 Salutes the gay nymphs as they trimly pass : 
 
 Those, with many a more, methought, complained 
 
 That Nature should those needless things produce. 
 
 Which not alone the sun from others gained. 
 
 But turn it wholly to their proper use : 
 
 I could not choose but grieve, that Nature made 
 
 So glorious flowers to live in such a shade. 
 
 W. Browne 
 
 J 60. Rudely Thou Wrongest My Dear 
 Heart's Desire 
 
 "D UDELY thou wrongest my dear heart's desire, 
 -'-^ In finding fault with her too portly pride: 
 The thing which I do most in her admire. 
 Is of the world unworthy most envied; 
 322 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 For in those lofty looks is close implied 
 
 Scorn of base things, and 'sdain of foul dishonour, 
 
 Threatening rash eyes which gaze on her so wide, 
 
 That loosely they ne dare to look upon her. 
 
 Such pride is praise, such portliness is honour, 
 
 That boldened innocence bears in her eyes; 
 
 And her fair countenance, like a goodly banner. 
 
 Spreads in defiance of all enemies. 
 
 Was never in this world aught worthy tried. 
 
 Without some spark of such self-pleasing pride. 
 
 E. Spenser 
 
 361, Small Comfort Might My Banish'd 
 Hopes Recall 
 
 OMALL comfort might my banish'd hopes recall 
 
 ^^ When 'whiles my dainty fair I sighing see; 
 
 If I could think that one were shed for me, 
 
 It were a guerdon great enough for all: 
 
 Or would she let one tear of pity fall 
 
 That seem'd dismiss'd from a remorseful eye, 
 
 I could content myself ungrieved to die. 
 
 And nothing might my constancy appall. 
 
 The only sound of that sweet word of " love," 
 
 Press'd 'twixt those lips that do my doom contain, 
 
 — Were I embarked — might bring me back again 
 
 From death to life, and make me breathe and move. 
 
 Strange cruelty ! that never can afford 
 
 So much as once one sigh, one tear, one word ! 
 
 fF. Alexander^ Earl of Stirling 
 323 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 362. And Yet I Cannot Reprehend 
 the Fhght 
 
 A ND yet I cannot reprehend the flight 
 
 "^ ^ Or blame th' attempt presuming so to soar; 
 
 The mounting venture for a high dehght 
 
 Did make the honour of the fall the more. 
 
 For who gets wealth, that puts not from the shore ? 
 
 Danger hath honour, great designs their fame; 
 
 Glory doth follow, courage goes before; 
 
 And though th' event oft answers not the same — 
 
 Sujffice that high attempts have never shame. 
 
 The mean observer, whom base safety keeps, 
 . Lives without honour, dies without a name. 
 
 And in eternal darkness ever sleeps. — • 
 And therefore, Delia, 'tis to me no blot 
 To have attempted, tho' attained thee not. 
 
 S. Daniel 
 
 j6j. Zephyrus Brings the Time that 
 Sweetly Scenteth 
 
 VEPHYRUS brings the time that sweetly scenteth 
 ^-^ With flowers and herbs which winter's frost exileth; 
 Procne now chirpeth, Philomel lamenteth. 
 Flora the garlands white and red compileth; 
 Fields do rejoice, the frowning sky relenteth, 
 Jove to behold his dearest daughter smileth; 
 The air, the water, the earth to joy consenteth, 
 Each creature now to love him reconcileth. 
 324 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 But with me, wretch, the storms of woe persever, 
 
 And heavy sighs which from my heart she straineth, 
 
 That took the key thereof to heaven for ever; 
 
 So that the singing of birds and springtime's flow'ring. 
 
 And ladies' love that men's affection gaineth, 
 
 Are hke a desert and cruel beasts devouring. 
 
 364. Here Lies the Blithe Spring 
 
 TTERE lies the blithe Spring, 
 
 -*- -*■ Who first taught birds to sing, 
 Yet in April herself fell a-crying: 
 
 Then May growing hot, 
 
 A sweating sickness she got. 
 And the first day of June lay a-dying. 
 
 Yet no month can say. 
 
 But her merry daughter May 
 Stuck her coffins with flowers great plenty: 
 
 The cuckoo sung in verse 
 
 An epitaph o'er her hearse, 
 But assure you the lines were not dainty. 
 
 r. Dekker 
 
 36^. Look, Delia, How We Esteem the 
 Half-Blown Rose 
 
 T OOK, Delia, how we *steem the half-blown rose, 
 J — ' The image of thy blush and summer's honour. 
 Whilst in her tender green she doth inclose 
 That pure, sweet beauty Time bestows upon her. 
 
 325 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 No sooner spreads her glory to the air, 
 
 But straight her full-blown pride is. in declining; 
 
 She then is scorned that late adorned the fair: 
 
 So clouds thy beauty, after fairest shining. 
 
 No April can revive thy withered flowers. 
 
 Whose blooming grace adorns thy glory now; 
 
 Swift, speedy Time, feathered with flying hours, 
 
 Dissolves the beauty of the fairest brow. 
 
 O let not then such riches waste in vain,, 
 
 But love, whilst that thou may'st be loved again. 
 
 S. Daniel 
 
 366. The Rose 
 
 A ROSE, as fair as ever saw the Nortii, 
 -^ ^ Grew in a little garden all alone; 
 A sweeter flower did Nature ne'er put forth. 
 Nor fairer garden yet was never known : 
 The maidens danced about it morn and noon, 
 And learned bards of it their ditties made; 
 The nimble fairies by the pale-faced moon 
 Water'd the root and kiss'd her pretty shade. 
 But well-a-day! — the gardener careless grew; 
 The maids and fairies both were kept away. 
 And in a drought the caterpillars threw 
 Themselves upon the bud and every spray. 
 God shield the stock ! If heaven send no supplies. 
 The fairest blossom of the garden dies. 
 
 W. Browne 
 
 326 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 36J. A Rose 
 
 T)LOWN in the morning, thou shalt fade ere noon. 
 
 ^^ What boots a life which in such haste forsakes thee ? 
 
 Thou'rt wondrous frolic, being to die so soon, 
 
 And passing proud a little colour makes thee. 
 
 If thee thy brittle beauty so deceives, 
 
 Know then the thing that swells thee is thy bane; 
 
 For the same beauty doth, in bloody leaves. 
 
 The sentence of thy early death contain. 
 
 Some clown's coarse lungs will poison thy sweet flower, 
 
 If by the careless plough thou shalt be torn; 
 
 And many Herods lie in wait each hour 
 
 To murder thee as soon as thou art born — 
 
 Nay, force thy bud to blow — their tyrant breath 
 
 Anticipating life, to hasten death ! 
 
 Str R. Fanshawe 
 
 368. Fair Is the Rose 
 
 T^AIR is the rose, yet fades with heat or cold; 
 
 Sweet are the violets, yet soon grow old; 
 The lily's white, yet in one day 'tis done; 
 White is the snow, yet melts against the sun : 
 So white, so sweet, was my fair mistress' face, 
 Yet altered quite in one short hour's space: 
 So short-lived beauty a vain gloss doth borrow. 
 Breathing delight to-day but none to-morrow. 
 
 Anon. 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 j^p. Sweet Rose, Whence Is This Hue ? 
 
 OWEET rose, whence is this hue 
 v^ Which doth all hues excel ? 
 Whence this most fragrant smell ? 
 And whence this form and gracing grace in you ? 
 In fair Paestana's fields perhaps you 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 those, but cause more high you blissed. 
 My lady's breast you bore, her lips you kissed. 
 
 W. Drummond 
 
 37 o. The Blushing Rose and Purple 
 Flower 
 
 " I ^HE blushing rose and purple flower, 
 ^ Let grow too long, are soonest blasted ! 
 Dainty fruits, though sweet, will sour. 
 And rot in ripeness, left untasted ! 
 
 Yet here is one more sweet than these: 
 The more you taste, the more She'll please ! 
 
 Beauty, though inclosed with ice^ 
 
 Is a shadow chaste as rare; 
 Then, how much those sweets entice, 
 That have issue full as fair ! 
 
 Earth cannot yield from all her powers, 
 One equal for Dame Venus' bowers! 
 
 P. Massinger 
 328 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 J//. The Funeral Rites of the Rose 
 
 ' I ''HE Rose was sick and smiling died; 
 •^ And, being to be sanctified, 
 About the bed there sighing stood 
 The sweet and flowery sisterhood : 
 Some hung the head, while some did bring, 
 To wash her, water from the spring; 
 Some laid her forth, while others wept. 
 But all a solemn fast there kept: 
 The holy sisters, some among. 
 The sacred dirge and trental sung. 
 But ah ! what sweets smelt everywhere. 
 As Heaven had spent all perfumes there. 
 At last, when prayers for the dead 
 And rites were all accomplished. 
 They, weeping, spread a lawny loom, 
 And closed her up as in a tomb. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 S72. A Summefs Day 
 
 /'^LEAR had the day been from the dawn, 
 ^-^ All chequer'd was the sky, 
 The clouds, like scarfs of cobweb lawn, 
 Veil'd heaven's most glorious eye. 
 
 The wind had no more strength than this, 
 
 — That leisurely it blew — 
 To make one leaf the next to kiss 
 
 That closely by it grew. 
 
 329 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 The rills, that on the pebbles play'd, 
 Might now be heard at will; 
 
 This world the only music made, 
 Else everything was still. 
 
 The flowers, like brave embroider'd girls, 
 Look'd as they most desired 
 
 To see whose head with orient pearls 
 Most curiously was tyred. 
 
 And to itself the subtle air 
 
 Such sovereignty assumes. 
 That it receiv'd too large a share 
 
 From Nature's rich perfumes. 
 
 M. Drayton 
 
 j 373. The Grasshopper 
 
 \ {~\ THOU that swing'st upon the waving hair 
 
 I ^-^ Of some well-filled oaten beard. 
 
 Drunk every night with a delicious tear 
 I Dropt thee from heaven, where thou wert rear'd ! 
 
 The joys of earth and air are thine entire. 
 
 That with thy feet and wings dost hop and fly; 
 
 And when thy poppy works, thou dost retire 
 To thy carved acorn-bed to lie. 
 
 Up with the day, the Sun thou welcom'st then, 
 Sport'st in the gilt plaits of his beams, 
 
 And all these merry days mak'st merry men. 
 Thyself, and melancholy streams. 
 
 jR. Lovelace 
 330 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 374> A Summer Day 
 
 r^ PERFECT Light, which shaid away 
 ^-'^ The darkness from the light, 
 And set a ruler o'er the day. 
 Another o'er the night — 
 
 Thy glory, when the day forth flies, 
 
 More vively doth appear 
 Than at mid day unto our eyes 
 
 The shining sun is clear. 
 
 The shadow of the earth anon 
 
 Removes and drawis by, 
 While in the East, when it is gone, 
 
 Appears a clearer sky. 
 
 Which soon perceive the little larks. 
 The lapwing and the snipe. 
 
 And tune their songs, like Nature's clerks, 
 O'er meadow, muir, and stripe. 
 
 Our hemisphere is polisht clean. 
 And lighten'd more and more. 
 
 While everything is clearly seen 
 Which seemit dim before: 
 
 Except the glistering astres bright, 
 Which all the night were clear, 
 
 OflFuskit with a greater light 
 No longer do appear. 
 
 331 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 The golden globe incontinent 
 
 Sets up his shining head, 
 And o'er the earth and firmament 
 
 Displays his beams abread 
 
 For joy the birds with boulden throats 
 
 Against his visage sheen 
 Take up their kindly musick notes 
 
 In woods and gardens green. 
 
 The dew upon the tender crops, 
 Like pearlis white and round, 
 
 Or like to melted silver drops, 
 Refreshis all the ground. 
 
 The misty reek, the clouds of rain. 
 From tops of mountains skails. 
 
 Clear are the highest hills and plain, 
 The vapours take the- vales. 
 
 The ample heaven of fabrick sure 
 
 In cleanness does surpass 
 The crystal and the silver pure. 
 
 Or clearest polisht glass. 
 
 The time so tranquil is and still 
 That nowhere shall ye find. 
 
 Save on a high and barren hill. 
 An air of peeping wind. 
 
 All trees and simples, great and small. 
 
 That balmy leaf do bear, 
 Than they were painted on a wall 
 
 No more they move or steir. 
 
 332 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Calm is the deep and purple sea, 
 Yea, smoother than the sand; 
 
 The waves that weltering wont to be 
 Are stable like the land. 
 
 So silent is the cessile air 
 
 That every cry and call 
 The hills and dales and forest fair 
 
 Again repeats them all. 
 
 The flourishes and fragrant flowers, 
 Through Phoebus' fostering heat, 
 
 Refresht with dew and silver showers 
 Cast up an odour sweet. 
 
 The cloggit busy humming bees, 
 
 That never think to drone. 
 On flowers and flourishes of trees 
 
 Collect their liquor brown. 
 
 The Sun, most like a speedy post 
 With ardent course ascends; 
 
 The beauty of the heavenly host 
 Up to our zenith tends. 
 
 The burning beams down from his face 
 
 So fervently can beat, 
 That man and beast now seek a place 
 
 To save them from the heat. 
 
 The herds beneath some leafy tree 
 
 Amidst the flowers they lie; 
 The stable ships upon the sea 
 
 Tend up their sails to dry. 
 
 333 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 With gilded eyes and open wings 
 The cock his courage shows; 
 
 With claps of joy his breast he dings, 
 And twenty times he crows. 
 
 The dove with whistling wings so blue 
 The winds can fast collect; 
 
 Her purple pens turn many a hue 
 Against the sun direct. 
 
 Now noon is went; gone is midday, 
 The heat doth slake at last; 
 
 The sun descends down West away. 
 For three of clock is past. 
 
 The rayons of the sun we see 
 
 Diminish in their strength; 
 The shade of every tower and tree 
 
 Extendit is in length. 
 
 Great is the calm, for everywhere 
 
 The wind is setting down; 
 The reek throws right up in the air 
 
 From every tower and town. 
 
 The gloming comes; the day is spent; 
 
 The sun goes out of sight; 
 And painted is the Occident 
 
 With purple sanguine bright. 
 
 Our west horizon circular 
 
 From time the sun be set 
 Is all with rubies, as it were. 
 
 Or roses red o'erfret. 
 
 334 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 What pleasure were to walk and see, 
 
 Endlong a river clear, 
 The perfect form of every tree 
 
 Within the deep appear. 
 
 O then it were a seemly thing. 
 
 While all is still and calm, 
 The praise of God to play and sing 
 
 With cornet and with shalm ! 
 
 All labourers draw home at even. 
 
 And can to other say. 
 Thanks to the gracious God of heaven. 
 
 Which sent this summer day. 
 
 A. Hume 
 
 375' Where the Bee Sucks 
 
 T^THERE the bee sucks, there suck I: 
 
 * * In a cowslip's bell I lie; 
 
 There I couch when owls do cry. 
 
 On the bat's back I do fly 
 After summer merrily: 
 
 Merrily, merrily, shall I live now 
 
 Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 J yd. The Stream 
 
 T WALK'D along a stream, for pureness rare. 
 
 Brighter than sunshine; for it did acquaint 
 The dullest sight with all glorious prey 
 That in the pebble-paved channel lay. 
 
 335 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 No molten crystal, but a richer mine, 
 
 Even Nature's rarest alchymy ran there, — 
 
 Diamonds resolv'd, and substance more divine, 
 
 Through whose bright-gliding current might appear 
 
 A thousand naked nymphs, whose ivory shine. 
 Enamelling the banks, made them more dear 
 
 Than ever was that glorious palace gate 
 
 Where the day-shining Sun in triumph sate. 
 
 Upon this brim the eglantine and rose,. 
 
 The tamarisk, olive, and the almond tree. 
 As kind companions, in one union grows. 
 
 Folding their twining arms, as oft we see 
 Turtle-taught lovers either other close. 
 
 Lending to dulness feeling sympathy; 
 And as a costly valance o'er a bed, 
 So did their garland-tops the brook o'erspread. 
 
 Their leaves, that difFer'd both in shape and show. 
 Though all were green, yet difference such in green, 
 
 Like to the checker'd bent of Iris' bow, 
 
 Prided the running main, as it had been. . . . 
 
 C. Marlowe 
 
 J//. The Dancing of the Sea 
 
 "POR lo, the sea that fleets about the land ! 
 
 And like a girdle clips her solid waist; 
 Music and measure both doth understand : 
 336 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 For his great crystal eye is always cast 
 Up to the moon, and on her fixed fast: 
 And as she danceth in her pallid sphere 
 So danceth he about his centre here. 
 
 Sometimes his proud green waves in order set, 
 
 One after other flow unto the shore, 
 Which when they have with many kisses wet, 
 They ebb away in order as before; 
 And to make known his courtly love the more, 
 He oft doth lay aside his three-fork'd mace. 
 And with his arms the timorous earth embrace. 
 
 Sir J. Davies 
 
 "/8. As When the Time Hath Been 
 
 A T morning and at evening both 
 -^ ^ You merry were and glad. 
 So little care of sleep or sloth 
 
 These pretty ladies had; 
 When Tom came home from labour 
 
 Or Ciss to milking rose, 
 Then merrily, merrily went their tabor 
 
 And nimbly went their toes. 
 
 Witness those rings and roundelays 
 
 Of theirs, which yet remain. 
 Were footed in Queen Mary's days 
 
 On many a grassy plain; 
 But since of late, Elizabeth 
 
 And later, James came in. 
 They never danced on any heath 
 
 As when the time hath been. 
 
 337 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Farewell rewards and fairies 
 
 Good housewives now may say, 
 For now foul sluts in dairies 
 
 Do fare as well as they. 
 And though they sweep their hearths no less 
 
 Then maids were wont to do, 
 Yet who of late for cleanliness 
 
 Finds sixpence in her shoe ? 
 
 Lament, lament old abbeys 
 
 The fairies lost command; 
 They did but change priests' babies. 
 
 But some have changed your land; 
 And all your children sprung from thence 
 
 Are now grown Puritans; 
 Who live as changelings ever since 
 
 For love of your domains. 
 
 R. Corhety Bishop of Oxford and Norwich 
 
 37g. A Sweet Pastoral 
 
 /^^OOD Muse, rock me to sleep 
 ^^ With some sweet harmony; 
 The weary eye is not to keep 
 Thy wary company. 
 
 Sweet Love, begone awhile; 
 
 Thou know'st my heaviness; 
 Beauty is born but to beguile 
 
 My heart of happiness. 
 
 338 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 See how my little flock, 
 
 That loved to feed on high, 
 
 Do headlong tumble down the rock 
 And in the valley die. 
 
 The bushes and the trees 
 
 That were so fresh and green. 
 
 Do all their dainty colour leese. 
 And not a leaf is seen. 
 
 The blackbird and the thrush 
 That made the woods to ring, 
 
 With all the rest are now at hush 
 And not a note they sing. 
 
 Sweet Philomel, the bird 
 
 That hath the heavenly throat, 
 
 Doth now, alas! not once afford 
 Recording of a note. 
 
 The flowers have had a frost, 
 Each herb hath lost her savour, 
 
 And Phyllida the fair hath lost 
 The comfort of her favour. 
 
 Now all these careful sights 
 
 So kill me in conceit, 
 That now to hope upon delights, 
 
 It is but mere deceit. 
 
 339 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 And therefore, my sweet Muse, 
 Thou know' St what help is best; 
 
 Do now thy heavenly cunning use 
 To set my heart at rest: 
 
 And in a dream bewray 
 
 What fate shall be my friend, 
 Whether my life shall still decay. 
 
 Or when my sorrow end. 
 
 N. Breton 
 
 j8o. The Country s Recreations 
 
 QUIVERING fears, heart-tearing cares, 
 Anxious sighs, untimely tears, 
 Fly, fly to courts ! 
 Fly to fond worldlings' sports 
 Where strained sardonic smiles are glozing still. 
 And grief is forced to laugh against her will; 
 Where mirth's but mummery. 
 And sorrows only real be ! 
 
 Fly from our country pastimes, fly, 
 Sad troop of human misery ! 
 
 Come, serene looks. 
 
 Clear as the crystal brooks. 
 Or the pure azured heaven, that smiles to see 
 The attendance of our poverty ! 
 
 Peace, and a secure mind. 
 
 Which all men seek, we only find. 
 340 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Abused mortals! did you know 
 
 Where joy, heart's ease, and comforts grow, 
 
 You'd scorn proud towers, 
 
 And seek them in these bowers 
 Where winds sometimes our woods perhaps may shake, 
 But blustering care could never tempest make. 
 
 Nor murmurs e'er come nigh us. 
 
 Saving of fountains that glide by us. 
 
 Here's no fantastic mask, nor dance 
 But of our kids that frisk and prance: 
 
 Nor wars are seen 
 
 Unless upon the green 
 Two harmless lambs are butting one another — 
 Which done, both bleating run, each to his mother: 
 
 And wounds are never found. 
 
 Save what the ploughshare gives the ground. 
 
 Here are no false entrapping baits 
 To hasten too-too hasty Fates; 
 
 Unless it be 
 
 The fond credulity 
 Of silly fish, which worldling-like still look 
 Upon the bait, but never on the hook : 
 
 Nor envy, unless among 
 
 The birds, for prize of their sweet song. 
 
 Go, let the diving Negro seek 
 
 For gems hid in some forlorn creek; 
 
 We all pearls scorn 
 
 Save what the dewy morn 
 
 341 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Congeals upon each little spire of grass, 
 
 Which careless shepherds beat down as they pass; 
 
 And gold ne'er here appears 
 
 Save what the yellow Ceres bears. 
 
 Blest silent groves ! O may ye be 
 For ever mirth's best nursery! 
 
 May pure contents 
 
 For ever pitch their tents 
 Upon these downs, these meads, these rocks, these moun- 
 tains, 
 And peace still slumber by these purling fountains; 
 
 Which we may every year 
 
 Find when we come a-fishing here! 
 
 A 
 
 non. 
 
 j8i. Fortunati Nimium 
 
 JACK and Joan, they think no ill. 
 But loving live, and merry still; 
 Do their week-day's work, and pray 
 Devoutly on the holy day; 
 Skip and trip it on the green. 
 And help to choose the Summer Queen; 
 Lash out at a country feast 
 Their silver penny with the best. 
 
 Well can they judge of nappy ale, 
 And tell at large a winter tale; 
 Climb up to the apple loft, 
 And turn the crabs till they be soft. 
 342 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Tib is all the father's joy, 
 And little Tom the mother's Boy; 
 All their pleasure is Content; 
 And care, to pay their yearly rent. 
 
 Joan can call by name her cows 
 And deck her windows with green boughs; 
 She can wreaths and tutties make. 
 And trim with plums a bridal cake. 
 Jack knows what brings gain or loss; 
 And his long flail can stoutly toss; 
 Makes the hedge which others break, 
 And ever thinks what he doth speak. 
 
 Now, you courtly dames and knights, 
 That study only strange delights; 
 Though you scorn the home-spun gray 
 And revel in your rich array; 
 Though your tongues dissemble deep. 
 And can your heads from danger keep; 
 Yet, for all your pomp and train. 
 Securer lives the silly swain! 
 
 T. Campion 
 
 j82. The Happy Countryman 
 
 '\\TYiO can live in heart so glad 
 
 ^ As the merry country lad ? 
 Who upon a fair green balk 
 May at pleasure sit and walk. 
 And amid the azure skies 
 See the morning sun arise, — 
 
 343 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 While he hears in every spring 
 How the birds do chirp and sing: 
 Or before the hounds in cry 
 See the hare go steaHng by: 
 Or along the shallow brook, 
 Angling with a baited hook, 
 See the fishes leap and play 
 In a blessed sunny day: 
 Or to hear the partridge call, 
 Till she have her covey all : 
 Or to see the subtle fox. 
 How the villain plies the box: 
 After feeding on his prey, 
 How he closely sneaks away, 
 Through the hedge and down the furrow 
 Till he gets into his burrow: 
 Then the bee to gather honey. 
 And the little black-haired coney. 
 On a bank for sunny place, 
 With her forefeet wash her face: 
 Are not these, with thousands moe 
 Than the courts of kings do know, 
 The true pleasing spirit's sights 
 That may breed true love's delights ? 
 But with all this happiness, 
 To behold that Shepherdess, 
 To whose eyes all shepherds yield 
 All the fairest of the field, 
 — Fair Aglaia, in whose face 
 Lives the shepherd's highest grace; 
 For whose sake I say and swear. 
 By the passions that I bear, 
 344 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Had I got a kingly grace, 
 I would leave my kingly place 
 And in heart be truly glad 
 To become a country lad; 
 Hard to lie, and go full bare, 
 And to feed on hungry fare. 
 So I might but live to be 
 Where I might but sit to see 
 Once a day, or all day long. 
 The sweet subject of my song: 
 In Aglaia's only eyes 
 All my worldly paradise. 
 
 N. Breton 
 
 j8j. Come Follow Me, Ye Country 
 Lasses 
 
 /"^OME follow me, you country lasses, 
 ^-^ And you shall see such sport as passes: 
 You shall dance and I will sing; 
 Pedro, he shall rub the string; 
 Each shall have a loose-bodied gown 
 Of green, and laugh till you lie down. 
 Come follow me, come follow, &c. 
 
 You shall have crowns of roses, daisies, 
 Buds where the honey-maker grazes; 
 You shall taste the golden thighs. 
 Such as in wax-chamber lies : 
 What fruit please you taste, freely pull. 
 Till you have all your bellies full. 
 
 Come follow me, come follow, &c. 
 
 y. Fletcher or W. Rowley 
 345 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 38^. . Country Glee 
 
 TTAYMAKERS, rakers, reapers, and mowers, 
 -*- ^ Wait on your Summer-Queen; 
 Dress up with musk-rose her eglantine bowers. 
 Daffodils strew the green; 
 Sing, dance, and play, 
 'Tis holiday; 
 The sun does bravely shine 
 On our ears of corn. 
 Rich as a pearl 
 Comes every girl. 
 This is mine, this is mine, this is mine; 
 Let us die, ere away they be borne. 
 
 Bow to the Sun, to our queen, and that fair one 
 
 Come to behold our sports: 
 Each bonny lass here is counted a rare one. 
 As those in prince's courts. 
 These and we 
 With country glee. 
 Will teach the woods to resound, 
 And the hills with echoes hollow: 
 Skipping lambs 
 Their bleating dams, 
 'Mongst kids shall trip it round; 
 For joy thus our wenches we follow. 
 
 Wind, jolly huntsmen, your neat bugles shrilly. 
 
 Hounds make a lusty cry; 
 Spring up, you falconers, the partridges freely. 
 
 Then let your brave hawks fly. 
 
 346 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Horses amain, 
 Over ridge, over plain, 
 The dogs have the stag in chase: 
 'Tis a sport to content a king. 
 So ho, ho ! through the skies 
 How the proud bird flies. 
 And sousing kills with a grace! 
 Now the deer falls; hark, how they ring! 
 
 T. Dekker 
 
 j(?5. What Pleasure Have Great Princes 
 
 "X "X THAT pleasure have great princes 
 
 ' More dainty to their choice 
 Than herdsmen wild, who careless 
 In quiet life rejoice, 
 And fortune's fate not fearing 
 Sing sweet in summer morning? 
 
 Their dealings plain and rightful, 
 
 Are void of all deceit; 
 
 They never know how spiteful, 
 
 It is to kneel and wait 
 
 On favourite presumptuous. 
 
 Whose pride is vain and sumptuous. 
 
 All day their flocks each tendeth; 
 At night, they take their rest; 
 More quiet than who sendeth 
 His ship into the East, 
 Where gold and pearl are plenty; 
 But getting, very dainty. 
 
 .147 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 For lawyers and their pleading, 
 They 'steem it not a straw; 
 They think that honest meaning 
 Is of itself a law: 
 Whence conscience judgeth plainly, 
 They spend no money vainly. 
 
 O happy who thus liveth ! 
 Not caring much for gold; 
 With clothing which sufficeth 
 To keep him from the cold. 
 Though poor and plain his diet 
 Yet merry it is, and quiet. 
 
 386. The Shepherd's Wife's Song 
 
 A H, what is love .? It is a pretty thing, 
 '^ ^ As sweet unto a shepherd as a king; 
 
 And sweeter too; 
 For kings have cares that wait upon a crown 
 And cares can make the sweetest love to frown. 
 
 Ah then, ah then. 
 If country loves such sweet desires do gain. 
 What lady would not love a shepherd swain ? 
 
 His flocks are folded, he comes home at night, 
 As merry as a king in his delight; 
 
 And merrier too; 
 For kings bethink then what the state require, 
 Where shepherds careless carol by the fire: 
 348 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Ah then, ah then, 
 If country loves such sweet desires do gain. 
 What lady would not love a shepherd swain ? 
 
 He kisseth first, then sits as blithe to eat 
 
 His cream and curds as doth the king his meat; 
 
 And blither too : 
 For kings have often fears when they do sup. 
 Where shepherds dread no poison in their cup. 
 
 Ah then, ah then. 
 If country loves such sweet desires do gain. 
 What lady would not love a shepherd swain ? 
 
 To bed he goes, as wanton then, I ween, -\ 
 As is a king in dalliance with a queen; 
 
 More wanton too; 
 For kings have many griefs affects to move, 
 Where shepherds have no greater grief than love: 
 
 Ah then, ah then. 
 If country loves such sweet desires do gain. 
 What lady would not love a shepherd swain ? 
 
 Upon his couch of straw he sleeps as sound 
 As doth a king upon his beds of down; 
 
 More sounder too ; 
 For cares cause kings full oft their sleep to spill. 
 Where weary shepherds lie and snort their fill : 
 
 Ah then, ah then. 
 If country loves such sweet desires do gain. 
 What lady would not love a shepherd swain ? 
 
 349 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Thus with his wife he spends the year, as blithe 
 As doth the king at every tide or sithe; 
 
 And bHther too; 
 For kings have wars and broils to take in hand, 
 When shepherds laugh and love upon the land : 
 
 Ah then, ah then, 
 If country loves such sweet desires do gain, 
 What lady would not love a shepherd swain ? 
 
 R. Greene 
 
 j8/. An Ode to Master Anthony Stajjord 
 to Hasten Him into the Country 
 
 /^^OME, spur away, 
 
 ^-^ I have no patience for a longer stay. 
 
 But must go down 
 And leave the chargeable noise of this great town : 
 I will the country see, 
 Where old simplicity. 
 Though hid in gray. 
 Doth look more gay 
 Than foppery in plush and scarlet clad. 
 Farewell, you city wits, that are 
 Almost at civil war — 
 'Tis time that I grow wise, when all the world grows mad. 
 
 More of my days 
 I will not spend to gain an idiot's praise; 
 
 Or to make sport 
 For some slight Puisne of the Inns of Court. 
 350 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Then, worthy Stafford, say, 
 How shall we spend the day ? 
 With what deHghts 
 Shorten the nights ? 
 When from this tumult we are got secure. 
 Where mirth with all her freedom goes. 
 Yet shall no finger lose; 
 Where every word is thought, and every thought is pure ? 
 
 There from the tree 
 We'll cherries pluck, and pick the strawberry; 
 
 And every day 
 Go see the wholesome country girls make hay, 
 Whose brown hath lovelier grace 
 Than any painted face 
 That I do know 
 Hyde Park can show: 
 Where I had rather gain a kiss than meet 
 (Though some of them in greater state 
 Might court my love with plate) 
 The beauties of the Cheap, and wives of Lombard Street 
 
 But think upon 
 Some other pleasures : these to me are none. 
 
 Why do I prate 
 Of women, that are things against my fate ! 
 I never mean to wed 
 That torture to my bed : 
 My Muse is she 
 My love shall be. 
 
 351 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Let clowns get wealth and heirs : when I am gone 
 And the great bugbear, grisly Death, 
 Shall take this idle breath, 
 If I a poem leave, that poem is my son. 
 
 Of this no more ! 
 We'll rather taste the bright Pomona's store. 
 
 No fruit shall 'scape 
 Our palates, from the damsoru to the grape. 
 Then, full, we'll seek a shade, 
 And hear what music's made; 
 How Philomel 
 Her tale doth tell, 
 And how the other birds do fill the quire; 
 The thrush and blackbird lend their throats. 
 Warbling melodious notes; 
 We will all sports enjoy which others but desire. 
 
 Ours is the sky. 
 Where at what fowl we please our hawk shall fly 
 
 Nor will we spare 
 To hunt the crafty fox or timorous hare; 
 But let our hounds run loose 
 In any ground they choose; 
 The buck shall fall. 
 The stag, and all. 
 Our pleasures must from their own warrants be. 
 For to my Muse, if not to me, 
 I'm sure all game is free : 
 Heaven, earth, are all but parts of her great royalty. 
 
 352 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 And when we mean 
 To taste of Bacchus' blessings now and then. 
 
 And drink by stealth 
 A cup or two to noble Barkley's health, 
 I'll take my pipe and try 
 The Phrygian melody; 
 Which he that hears, 
 Lets through his ears 
 A madness to distemper all the brain: 
 Then I another pipe will take 
 And Doric music make, 
 To civilize with graver notes our wits again. 
 
 r. Randolph 
 
 \J 
 
 j88. Epithalamium 
 
 ET Mother Earth now deck herself in flowers, 
 ' To see her offspring seek a good increase, 
 Where justest love doth vanquish Cupid's powers. 
 And war of thoughts is swallowed up in peace, 
 Which never may decrease, 
 But, like the turtles fair. 
 Live one in two, a well-united pair: 
 Which that no chance may stain, 
 O Hymen ! long their coupled joys maintain ! 
 
 O Heaven! awake, show forth thy stately face; 
 Let not these slumbering clouds thy beauties hide. 
 But with thy cheerful presence help to grace 
 The honest Bridegroom and the bashful Bride; 
 Whose loves may ever bide, 
 
 353 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Like to the elm and vine, 
 With mutual embracements them to twine: 
 
 In which delightful pain, 
 O Hymen ! long their coupled joys maintain I 
 
 Ye Muses all ! which chaste affects allow 
 And have to Thyrsis shewed your secret skill. 
 To this chaste love your sacred favours bow; 
 And so to him and her your gifts distill 
 That they all vice may kill, 
 And, like to lilies pure, 
 May please all eyes, and spotless may endure: 
 
 Where that all bliss may reign, 
 O Hymen ! long their coupled joys maintain ! 
 
 Ye Nymphs which in the waters empire have ! 
 Since Thyrsis' music oft doth yield you praise. 
 Grant to the thing which we for Thyrsis crave: 
 Let one time — but long first — close up their days. 
 One grave their bodies seize; 
 And, like two rivers sweet 
 When they though divers do together meet. 
 
 One stream both streams contain ! 
 O Hymen ! long their coupled joys maintain ! 
 
 Pan ! father Pan, the god of silly sheep ! 
 Whose care is cause that they in number grow, — 
 Have much more care of them that them do keep. 
 Since from these good the others' good doth flow; 
 
 And make their issue show 
 
 In number like the herd 
 
 354 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Of younglings which thyself with love hast reared, 
 
 Or Hke the drops of rain ! 
 O Hymen ! long their coupled joys maintain ! 
 
 Virtue, if not a God, yet God's chief part! 
 Be thou the knot of this their open vow: 
 That still he be her head, she be his heart; 
 He lean to her, she unto him do bow; 
 Each other still allow. 
 Like oak and mistletoe; 
 Her strength from him, his praise from her do grow! 
 
 In which most lovely train, 
 O Hymen ! long their coupled joys maintain ! 
 
 But thou, foul Cupid, sire to lav/less lust ! 
 Be thou far hence with thy empoisoned dart. 
 Which, though of glittering gold, shall here take rust, 
 Where simple love, which chasteness doth impart. 
 Avoids thy hurtful art. 
 Not needing charming skill 
 Such minds with sweet affections for to fill : 
 
 Which being pure and plain, 
 O Hymen ! long their coupled joys maintain ! 
 
 All churlish words, shrewd answers, crabbed looks. 
 All privateness, self-seeking, inward spite. 
 All waywardness which nothing kindly brooks, 
 All strife for toys and claiming master's right, — 
 Be hence aye put to flight; 
 All stirring husband's hate 
 'Gainst neighbours good for womanish debate 
 
 Be fled, as things most vain I 
 O Hymen ! long their coupled joys maintain ! 
 
 355 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 But above all, away vile jealousy, 
 The evil of evils, just cause to be unjust! 
 How can he love, suspecting treachery ? 
 How can she love, where love cannot win trust ? 
 Go, snake! hide thee in dust; 
 Nor dare once shovv^ thy face 
 Where open hearts do hold so constant place 
 
 That they thy sting restrain ! 
 O Hymen ! long their coupled joys maintain ! 
 
 The Earth is decked with flowers the Heavens displayed ; 
 Muses grant gifts, Nymphs long and joined life; 
 Pan, store of babes, virtue their thoughts well stayed; 
 Cupid's lust gone, and gone is bitter strife. 
 Happy man ! happy wife ! 
 No pride shall them oppress, 
 Nor yet shall yield to loathsome sluttishness; 
 
 And jealousy is slain. 
 For Hymen will their coupled joys maintain ! 
 
 Sir P. Sidney 
 
 38 g. Bridal Song 
 
 /^YNTHIA, to thy power and thee 
 
 ^^ We obey. 
 
 Joy to this great company ! 
 
 And no day 
 Come to steal this night away 
 
 Till the rites of love are ended, 
 And the lusty bridegroom say, 
 Welcome, light, of all befriended ! 
 356 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Pace out, you watery powers below; 
 
 Let your feet, 
 Like the galleys when they row, 
 
 Even beat; 
 Let your unknown measures, set 
 . To the still winds, tell to all 
 That gods are come, immortal, great. 
 To honour this great nuptial ! 
 
 J. Fletcher 
 
 jpo. The Bridal Song 
 
 "DEACE and silence be the guide 
 -*- To the man and to the bride ! 
 If there be a joy yet new 
 In marriage, let it fall on you, 
 
 That all the world may wonder ! 
 If we should stay, we should do worse, 
 And turn our blessing to a curse 
 
 By keeping you asunder. 
 
 F. Beaumont 
 
 J pi. A Bridal Song 
 
 T3 OSES, 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, first-born child of Ver; 
 Merry spring-time's harbinger, 
 
 357 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 With hare-bells dim; 
 OxHps in their cradles growing, 
 Marigolds on deathbeds blowing, 
 
 Larks'-heel trim; 
 
 All dear Nature's children sweet 
 
 Lie 'fore bride and bridegroom's feet, 
 
 Blessing their sense ! 
 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 pye, 
 May on our bride house perch or sing, 
 Or with them any discord bring, 
 
 But from it fly! 
 
 W. Shakespearey or J. Fletcher 
 
 jp2. Epithalamium 
 
 'V/'E learned sisters, which have oftentimes 
 Beene to me ayding, others to adorne, 
 Whom ye thought worthy of your graceful rymes. 
 That even the greatest did not greatly scorne 
 To heare theyr names sung in your simple layes. 
 But joyed in theyr praise; 
 
 And when ye list your owne mishaps to mourne. 
 Which death, or love, or fortunes wreck did rayse, 
 Your string could soone to sadder tenor turne, 
 358 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 And teach the woods and waters to lament 
 
 Your doleful dreriment: 
 
 Now lay those sorrowfull complaints aside; 
 
 And, having all your heads with girlands crownd, 
 
 Helpe me mine owne loves prayses to resound; 
 
 Ne let the same of any be envide: 
 
 So Orpheus did for his owne bride ! 
 
 So I unto my selfe alone will sing; 
 
 The woods shall to me answer, and my Eccho ring. 
 
 Early, before the worlds light-giving lampe 
 
 His golden beame upon the hils doth spred. 
 
 Having disperst the nights unchearefull dampe, 
 
 Doe ye awake; and, with fresh lusty-hed. 
 
 Go to the bowre of my beloved love. 
 
 My truest turtle dove; 
 
 Bid her awake; for Hymen is awake, 
 
 And long since ready forth his maske to move. 
 
 With his bright Tead that flames with many a flake, 
 
 And many a bachelor to waite on him. 
 
 In theyr fresh garments trim. 
 
 Bid her awake therefore, and soone her dight, 
 
 For lo ! the wished day is come at last. 
 
 That shall, for all the paynes and sorrowes past, 
 
 Pay to her usury of long delight: 
 
 And, whylest she doth her dight. 
 
 Doe ye to her of joy and solace sing. 
 
 That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring. 
 
 Bring with you all the Nymphes that you can heare 
 Both of the rivers and the forrests greene, 
 And of the sea that neighbours to her neare: 
 
 359 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Al with gay girlands goodly wel beseene. 
 
 And let them also with them bring in hand 
 
 Another gay girland 
 
 For my fayre love, of lillyes and of roses, 
 
 Bound truelove wize, with a blew silke riband. 
 
 And let them make great store of bridale poses, 
 
 And let them eeke bring store of other flowers, 
 
 To deck the bridale bowers. 
 
 And let the ground whereas her foot shall tread. 
 
 For feare the stones her tender foot should wrong. 
 
 Be strewed with fragrant flowers all along, 
 
 And diapred lyke the discolored mead. 
 
 Which done, doe at her chamber dore awayt, 
 
 For she will waken strayt; 
 
 The whiles doe ye this song unto her sing, 
 
 The woods shall to you answer, and your Eccho ring. 
 
 Ye Nymphes of Mulla, which with carefull heed 
 The silver scaly trouts doe tend full well. 
 And greedy pikes which use therein to feed : 
 (Those trouts and pikes all others doo excell;) 
 And ye likewise, which keep the rushy lake. 
 Where none doo fishes take; 
 
 Bynd up the locks the which hang scattered light. 
 And in his waters, which your mirror make. 
 Behold your faces as the christall bright. 
 That when you come whereas my love doth lie, 
 No blemish she may spie. 
 
 And eke, ye lightfoot mayds, which keep the deere, 
 That on the hoary mountayne used to towre; 
 And the wylde wolves, which seeke them to devoure, 
 360 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 With your Steele darts doo chace from corning neer; 
 
 Be also present heere, 
 
 To helpe to decke her, and to help to sing, 
 
 That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring. 
 
 Wake now, my love, awake ! for it is time ; 
 
 The Rosy Morne long since left Tithones bed, 
 
 All ready to her silver coche to clyme; 
 
 And Phoebus gins to shew his glorious hed. 
 
 Hark ! how the cheerefull birds do chaunt theyr 
 
 laies 
 And Carroll of Loves praise. 
 The merry Larke hir mattins sings aloft; 
 The Thrush replyes; the Mavis descant playes; 
 The Ouzell shrills; the Ruddock warbles soft; 
 So goodly all agree, with sweet consent. 
 To this dayes merriment. 
 
 Ah ! my deere love, why doe ye sleepe thus long ? 
 When meeter were that ye should now awake, 
 T'awayt the comming of your joyous make. 
 And hearken to the birds love-learned song. 
 The deawy leaves among ! 
 For they of joy and pleasance to you sing, 
 That all the woods them answer, and theyr eccho ring. 
 
 My love is now awake out of her dreames. 
 And her fayre eyes, like stars that dimmed were 
 With darksome cloud, now shew theyr goodly beams 
 More bright then Hesperus his head doth rere. 
 Come now, ye damzels, daughters of delight, 
 Helpe quickly her to dight: 
 
 361 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 But first come ye fayre houres, which were begot 
 
 In Joves sweet paradice of Day and Night; 
 
 Which doe the seasons of the yeare allot, 
 
 And al, that ever in this world is fayre, 
 
 Doe make and still repayre : 
 
 And ye three handmayds of the Cyprian Queene, 
 
 The which doe still adorne her beauties pride, 
 
 Helpe to addorne my beautifullest bride: 
 
 And, as ye her array, still throw betweene 
 
 Some graces to be seene; 
 
 And, as ye use to Venus, to her sing. 
 
 The whiles the woods shal answer, and your eccho ring. 
 
 Now is my love all ready forth to come : 
 Let all the virgins therefore well awayt: 
 And ye fresh boyes, that tend upon her groome, 
 Prepare yourselves; for he is comming strayt. 
 Set all your things in seemely good array, 
 Fit for so joyfull day: 
 The joyfulst day that ever sunne did see. 
 Faire Sun ! shew forth thy favourable ray, 
 And let thy lifull heat not fervent be, 
 For feare of burning her sunshyny face, 
 Her beauty to disgrace. 
 O fayrest Phoebus ! father of the Muse ! 
 If ever I did honour thee aright. 
 Or sing the thing that mote thy mind delight, 
 Doe not thy servants simple boone refuse; 
 But let this day, let this one day, be myne; 
 Let all the rest be thine. 
 Then I thy soverayne prayses loud wil sing, 
 That all the woods shal answer, and theyr eccho ring. 
 362 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Harke ! how the Minstrils gin to shrill aloud 
 Their merry Musick that resounds from far, 
 The pipe, the tabor, and the trembling Croud, 
 That well agree withouten breach or jar. 
 But, most of all, the Damzels doe delite 
 When they their tymbrels smyte. 
 And thereunto doe daunce and carrol sweet. 
 That all the sences they doe ravish quite; 
 The whyles the boyes run up and downe the street. 
 Crying aloud with strong confused noyce. 
 As if it were one voyce. 
 Hymen, io Hymen, Hymen, they do shout; 
 That even to the heavens theyr shouting shrill 
 Doth reach, and all the firm.ament doth fill; 
 To which the people standing all about, 
 As in approvance, doe thereto applaud. 
 And loud advaunce her laud; 
 And evermore they Hymen, Hymen sing, 
 That al the woods them answer, and theyr eccho 
 ring. 
 
 Loe ! where she comes along with portly pace, 
 
 Lyke Phoebe, from her chamber of the East, 
 
 Arysing forth to run her mighty race. 
 
 Clad all in white, that seemes a virgin best. 
 
 So well it her beseemes, that ye would weene 
 
 Some angell she had beene. 
 
 Her long loose yellow locks lyke golden wyre, 
 
 Sprinckled with perle, and perling flowres atweene, 
 
 Doe lyke a golden mantle her attyre; 
 
 And, being crowned with a girland greene, 
 
 Seeme lyke some mayden Queene. 
 
 363 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Her modest eyes, abashed to behold 
 So many gazers as on her do stare, 
 Upon the lowly ground affixed are; 
 Ne dare lift up her countenance too bold. 
 But blush to heare her prayses sung so loud. 
 So farre from being proud. 
 Nathlesse doe ye still loud her prayses sing. 
 That all the woods may answer, and your eccho 
 ring. 
 
 Tell me, ye merchants daughters, did ye see 
 
 So fayre a creature in your towne before; 
 
 So sweet, so lovely, and so mild as she. 
 
 Adorned with beautyes grace and vertues store ? 
 
 Her goodly eyes lyke Saphyres shining bright. 
 
 Her forehead yvory white. 
 
 Her cheekes lyke apples which the sun hath rudded. 
 
 Her lips like cherryes charming men to byte. 
 
 Her brest like to a bowle of creame uncrudded. 
 
 Her paps lyke lyllies budded, 
 
 Her snowie neck lyke to a marble towre; 
 
 And all her body like a pallace fayre. 
 
 Ascending up, with many a stately stayre. 
 
 To honours seat and chastities sweet bowre. 
 
 Why stand ye still ye virgins in amaze. 
 
 Upon her so to gaze. 
 
 Whiles ye forget your former lay to sing, 
 
 To which the woods did answer, and your eccho ring ? 
 
 But if ye saw that which no eyes can see, Jl 
 
 The inward beauty of her lively spright, jj^ 
 
 Garnisht with heavenly guifts of high degree, 
 364 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Much more then would ye wonder at that sight, 
 
 And stand astonisht lyke to those which red 
 
 Medusaes mazeful hed. 
 
 There dwels sweet love, and constant chastity, 
 
 Unspotted fayth, and comely womanhood. 
 
 Regard of honour, and mild modesty; 
 
 There vertue raynes as .Queene in royal throne, 
 
 And giveth lawes alone. 
 
 The which the base affections doe obay. 
 
 And yeeld theyr services unto her will; 
 
 Ne thought of thing uncomely ever may 
 
 Thereto approch to tempt her mind to ill. 
 
 Had ye once scene these her celestial threasures. 
 
 And unrevealed pleasures. 
 
 Then would ye wonder, and her prayses sing. 
 
 That al the woods should answer, and your echo ring. 
 
 Open the temple gates unto my love. 
 
 Open them wide that she may enter in. 
 
 And all the postes adorne as doth behove. 
 
 And all the pillours deck with girlands trim. 
 
 For to receyve this Saynt with honour dew. 
 
 That commeth in to you. 
 
 With trembling steps, and humble reverence. 
 
 She commeth in, before th' Almighties view; 
 
 Of her ye virgins learne obedience. 
 
 When so ye come into those holy places, 
 
 To humble your proud faces: 
 
 Bring her up to th' high altar, that she may 
 
 The sacred ceremonies there partake. 
 
 The which do endlesse matrimony make; 
 
 And let the roring Organs loudly play 
 
 365 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 The praises of the Lord in hvely notes; 
 The whiles, with hollow throates, 
 The Choristers the joyous Antheme sing, 
 That al the woods may answere, and their eccho 
 ring. 
 
 Behold, whiles she before, the altar stands. 
 
 Hearing the holy priest that to her speakes, 
 
 And blesseth her with his two happy hands, 
 
 How the red roses flush up in her cheekes, 
 
 And the pure snow, with goodly vermill stayne 
 
 Like crimsin dyde in grayne: 
 
 That even th' Angels, which continually 
 
 About the sacred Altare doe remaine, 
 
 Forget their service and about her fly, 
 
 Ofte peeping in her face, that seems more fayre, 
 
 The more they on it stare. 
 
 But her sad eyes, still fastened on the ground, 
 
 Are governed with goodly modesty. 
 
 That suffers not one looke to glaunce awry, 
 
 Which may let in one little thought unsownd. 
 
 Why blush ye, love, to give to me your hand, 
 
 The pledge of all our band ! 
 
 Sing, ye sweet Angels, Alleluya sing, 
 
 That all the woods may answere, and your eccho ring. 
 
 Now al is done: bring home the bride againe; 
 Bring home the triumph of our victory : 
 Bring home with you the glory of her gaine 
 With joyance bring her and with jollity. 
 Never had man more joyful day then this, 
 Whom heaven would heape with blis, 
 366 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Make feast therefore now all this Hve-Iong day; 
 This day for ever to me holy is. 
 Poure out the wine without restraint or stay, 
 Poure not by cups, but by the belly full, 
 Poure out to all that wull. 
 
 And sprinkle all the postes and wals with wine, 
 That they may sweat, and drunken be withall. 
 Crowne ye God Bacchus with a coronall, 
 And Hymen also crowne with wreathes of vine; 
 And let the Graces daunce unto the rest. 
 For they can doo it best: 
 
 The whiles the maydens doe theyr carroll sing. 
 To which the woods shall answer, and theyr eccho 
 ring. 
 
 Ring ye the bels, ye yong men of the towne, 
 And leave your wonted labors for this day: 
 This day is holy; doe ye write it downe. 
 That ye for ever it remember may. 
 This day the sunne is in his chiefest hight, 
 With Barnaby the bright, 
 From whence declining daily by degrees, 
 He somewhat loseth of his heat and light. 
 When once the Crab behind his back he sees. 
 But for this time it ill ordained was. 
 To chose the longest day in all the yeare. 
 The shortest night, when longest fitter weare: 
 Yet never day so long, but late would passe. 
 Ring ye the bels, to make it weare away, 
 And bonefiers make all day; 
 And daunce about them, and about them sing, 
 That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring. 
 
 367 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Ah ! when will this long weary day have end, 
 And lende me leave to come unto my love? 
 How slowly do the hoiires theyr numbers spend ? 
 How slowly does sad Time his feathers move ? 
 Hast thee, O fayrest Planet, to thy home. 
 Within the Westerne fome: 
 
 Thy tyred steedes long since have need of rest. 
 Long though it be, at last I see it gloome. 
 And the bright evening-star with golden creast 
 Appeare out of the East. 
 
 Fayre childe of beauty ! glorious lampe of love ! 
 That all the host of heaven in rankes doost lead. 
 And guydest lovers through the nights sad dread. 
 How chearefully thou lookest from above. 
 And seemst to laugh atweene thy twinkling light. 
 As joying in the sight 
 
 Of these glad many, which for joy doe sing. 
 That all the woods them answer, and their echo 
 ring. 
 
 Now ceasse, ye damsels, your delights fore-past; 
 Enough it is that all the day was youres : 
 Now day is doen, and night is nighing fast. 
 Now bring the Bryde into the brydall boures. 
 The night is come, now soon her disaray, 
 And in her bed her lay; 
 Lay her in lillies and in violets. 
 And silken courteins over her display, 
 And odourd sheetes, and Arras coverlets, 
 Behold how goodly my faire love does ly, 
 In proud humility! 
 368 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Like unto Maia, when as Jove her took 
 
 In Tempe, lying on the flowry gras, 
 
 Twixt sleepe and wake, after she weary was, 
 
 With bathing in the AcidaHan brooke. 
 
 Now it is night, ye damsels may be gon, 
 
 And leave my love alone, 
 
 And leave likewise your former lay to sing: 
 
 The woods no more shall answere, nor your echo ring. 
 
 Now welcome, night ! thou night so long expected. 
 
 That long daies labour doest at last defray. 
 
 And all my cares, which cruell Love collected, 
 
 Hast sumd in one, and cancelled for aye: 
 
 Spread thy broad wing over my love and me, 
 
 That no man may us see; 
 
 And in thy sable mantle us enwrap. 
 
 From feare of perrill and foule horror free. 
 
 Let no false treason seeke us to entrap. 
 
 Nor any dread disquiet once annoy 
 
 The safety of our joy; 
 
 But let the night be calme, and quietsome. 
 
 Without tempestuous storms or sad afray: 
 
 Lyke as when Jove with fayre Alcmena lay. 
 
 When he begot the great Tirynthian groome: 
 
 Or lyke as when he with thy selfe did lie 
 
 And begot Majesty, 
 
 And let the mayds and yong men cease to sing; 
 
 Ne let the woods them answer nor theyr eccho ring 
 
 Let no lamenting cryes, nor doleful teares 
 Be heard all night within, nor yet without: 
 
 369 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Ne let false whispers, breeding hidden feares, 
 Breake gentle sleepe with misconceived dout. 
 Let no deluding dreames, nor dreadfull sights. 
 Make sudden sad affrights; 
 
 Ne let house-fyres, nor lightnings helpelesse harmes, 
 Ne let the Pouke, nor other evill sprights, 
 Ne let mischivous witches with theyr charmes, 
 Ne let hob Goblins, names whose sence we see not. 
 Fray us with things that be not; 
 Let not the shriech Oule nor the Storke be heard. 
 Nor the night Raven, that still deadly yels: 
 Nor dammed ghosts, cald up with mighty spels, 
 Nor griesly vultures, make us once affeard : 
 Ne let th' unpleasant Quyre of Frogs still croking 
 Make us to wish theyr choking. 
 Let none of these theyr drery accents sing; 
 Ne let the woods them answer, nor theyr eccho 
 ring. 
 
 But still let Silence trew night-watches keepe, 
 
 That sacred Peace may in assurance rayne, 
 
 And tymely Sleep, when it is tyme to sleepe, 
 
 May poure his limbs forth on your pleasant playne; 
 
 The whiles an hundred little winged loves. 
 
 Like divers-fethered doves. 
 
 Shall fly and flutter round about your bed. 
 
 And in the secret darke, that none reproves. 
 
 Their prety stealthes shal worke, and snares shal 
 
 spread 
 To filch away sweet snatches of delight, 
 Conceald through covert night. 
 370 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Ye sonnes of Venus, play your sports at will ! 
 
 For greedy pleasure, carelesse of your toyes, 
 
 Thinks more upon her paradise of joyes, 
 
 Then what ye do, albe it good or ill. 
 
 All night therefore attend your merry play, 
 
 For it will soone be day: 
 
 Now none doth hinder you, that say or sing; 
 
 Ne will the woods now answer, nor your Eccho ring. 
 
 Who is the s^me, which at my window peepes .? 
 
 Or whose is that faire face that shines so bright ? 
 
 Is it not Cinthia, she that never sleepes. 
 
 But walkes about high heaven al the night f 
 
 O ! fayrest goddesse, do thou not envy 
 
 My love with me to spy: 
 
 For thou likewise didst love, though now unthought, 
 
 And for a fleece of wooll, which privily 
 
 The Latmian shepherd once unto thee brought, 
 
 His pleasures with thee wrought. 
 
 Therefore to us be favourable now; 
 
 And sith of wemens labours thou hast charge, 
 
 And generation goodly dost enlarge, 
 
 Encline thy will t'efFect our wishfuU vow, 
 
 And the chaste wombe informe with timely seed. 
 
 That may our comfort breed : 
 
 Till which we cease our hopefull hap to sing; 
 
 Ne let the wQods us answere, nor our Eccho ring. 
 
 And thou, great Juno ! which with awful might 
 The lawes of wedlock still dost patronize; 
 And the religion of the faith first plight 
 With sacred rites hast taught to solemnize; 
 
 371 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 And eeke for comfort often called art 
 
 Of women in their smart; 
 
 Eternally bind thou this lovely band, 
 
 And all thy blessings unto us impart. 
 
 And thou, glad Genuis ! in whose gentle hand 
 
 The bridale bowre and geniall bed remaine, 
 
 Without blemish or staine; 
 
 And the sweet pleasures of theyr loves delight 
 
 With secret ayde doest succor and supply. 
 
 Till they bring forth the fruitfuU progeny; 
 
 Send us the timely fruit of this same night. 
 
 And thou, fayre Hebe! and thou. Hymen free! 
 
 Grant that it may so be. 
 
 Till which we cease your further prayse to sing; 
 
 Ne any woods shall answer, nor your Eccho ring. 
 
 And ye high heavens, the temple of the gods, 
 In which a thousand torches flaming bright 
 Doe burne, that to us wretched earthly clods 
 In dreadful darknesse lend desired light; 
 And all ye powers which in the same remayne, 
 More then we men can fayne ! 
 Poure out your blessing on us plentiously, 
 And happy influence upon us raine. 
 That we may raise a large posterity, 
 Which from the earth, which they may long possesse 
 With lasting happinesse. 
 Up to your haughty pallaces may mount; 
 And for the guerdon of theyr glorious merit, 
 May heavenly tabernacles there inherit, 
 Of blessed Saints for to increase the count. 
 372 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 So let us rest, sweet love, in hope of this, 
 And cease till then our tymely joyes to sing: 
 The woods no more us answer, nor our eccho ring ! 
 
 Song! made in lieu of many ornaments^ 
 
 With which my love should duly have been decty 
 
 Which cutting off through hasty accidents^ 
 
 Te would not stay your dew time to expect. 
 
 But promist both to recompens ; 
 
 Be unto her a goodly ornamenty 
 
 And for short time an endlesse moniment. 
 
 E. Spenser 
 
 Jpj. Epithalamion Teratos 
 
 /^^OME, come, dear Night, Love's mart of kisses, 
 ^^ Sweet close of his ambitious line, 
 The fruitful summer of his blisses. 
 Love's glory doth in darkness shine. 
 
 O come, soft rest of cares ! come, Night ! 
 
 Come, naked Virtue's only tire. 
 The reaped harvest of the light 
 
 Bound up in sheaves of sacred fire. 
 Love calls to war; 
 Sighs his alarms. 
 Lips his swords are, 
 The field his arms. 
 
 Come, Night, and lay thy velvet hand 
 
 On glorious Day's outfacing face; 
 And all thy crowned flames command 
 
 For torches to our nuptial grace. 
 
 373 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Love calls to war; 
 
 Sighs his alarms, 
 Lips his swords are, 
 
 The field his arms. 
 
 No need have we of factious Day, 
 
 To cast, in envy of thy peace. 
 Her balls of discord in thy way; 
 
 Here Beauty's day doth never cease; 
 Day is abstracted here, 
 And varied in a triple sphere. 
 Hero, Alcmane, Myra, so outshine thee. 
 Ere thou come here, let Thetis thrice refine thee. 
 Love calls to war; 
 Sighs his alarms. 
 Lips his swords are. 
 The field his arms. 
 
 G. Chapman 
 
 jg4. Epithalamium 
 
 T TP! youths and virgins! up, and praise 
 ^^ The God whose nights outshine his days ! 
 Hymen, whose hallowed rites 
 Could never boast of brighter lights; 
 Whose bands pass liberty. 
 Two of your troop, that with the morn were free, 
 Are now waged to his war; 
 
 And what they are. 
 If you'll perfection see, 
 Yourselves must be. 
 Shine, Hesperus! shine forth, thou wished star! 
 374 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 What joys or honours can compare 
 With holy nuptials, when they are 
 
 Made out of equal parts 
 Of years, of states, of hands, of hearts; 
 When in the happy choice 
 The spouse and spoused have foremost voice! 
 Such, glad of Hymen's war. 
 
 Live what they are 
 And long perfection see : 
 And such ours be. 
 Shine, Hesperus! shine forth, thou wished star! 
 
 The solemn state of this one night 
 Were fit to last an age's light; 
 
 But there are rites behind 
 Have less of state and more of kind : 
 Love's wealthy crop of kisses, 
 And fruitful harvest of his mother's blisses. 
 Sound then to Hymen's war! 
 
 That what these are. 
 Who will perfection see 
 May haste to be. 
 Shine, Hesperus! shine forth, thou wished star! 
 
 Love's Commonwealth consists of toys; 
 His Council are those antic boys. 
 
 Games, Laughter, Sports, Delights, 
 That triumph with him on these nights: 
 To whom we must give way. 
 For now their reign begins, and lasts till day. 
 They sweeten Hymen's war, 
 And in that jar 
 
 375 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Make all, that married be, 
 Perfection see. 
 Shine, Hesperus ! shine forth, thou wished star ! 
 
 Why stays the bridgegroom to invade 
 Her that would be a matron made ? 
 
 Good-night ! whilst yet we may 
 Good-night to you a virgin say. 
 To-morrow rise the same 
 Your mother is, and use a nobler name! 
 Speed well in Hymen's war, 
 
 That what you are. 
 By your perfection, we 
 And all may see ! 
 Shine, Hesperus! shine forth, thou wished star! 
 
 To-night is Venus' vigil kept. 
 
 This night no bridegroom ever slept; 
 
 And if the fair bride do. 
 The married say 'tis his fault too. 
 Wake then, and let your lights 
 Wake too, for they'll tell nothing of your nights, 
 But that in Hymen's war 
 
 You perfect are; 
 And such perfection we 
 Do pray should be. 
 Shine, Hesperus! shine forth, thou wished star! 
 
 That, ere the rosy fingered Morn 
 Behold nine moons, there may be born 
 
 A babe to uphold the fame 
 Of RadclifFe's blood and Ramsay's name; 
 
 376 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 That may, in his great seed, 
 Wear the long honours of his father's deed. 
 Such fruits of Hymen's war 
 
 Most perfect are; 
 And all perfection we 
 Wish you should see. 
 Shine, Hesperus! shine forth, thou wished star! 
 
 B. Jonson 
 
 JPS' Prothalamion 
 
 /^^ALME was the day, and through the trembling ayre 
 
 ^-^ Sweet-breathing Zephyrus did softly play 
 
 A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay 
 
 Hot Titan's beames, which then did glyster fayre; 
 
 When I, (whom sullein care. 
 
 Through discontent of my long fruitlesse stay 
 
 In Princes' Court, and expectation vayne 
 
 Of idle hopes, which still do fly away 
 
 Like empty shaddowes, did aflBict my brayne) 
 
 Walked forth to ease my payne 
 
 Along the shoare of silver-streaming Themmes; 
 
 Whose rutty Bancke, the which his River hemmes. 
 
 Was paynted all with variable flowers. 
 
 And all the meades adornd with daintie gemmes. 
 
 Fit to decke maydens bowres, 
 
 And crowne their Paramours 
 
 Against the Brydale day, which is not long: 
 Sweete Themmes ! runne softly, till I end my Song. 
 
 There, in a Meadow, by the Rivers side, 
 A 'Flocke of Nymphs I chaunced to espy. 
 All lovely Daughters of the Flood thereby, 
 
 377 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 With goodly greenish locks, all loose untyde, 
 
 As each had bene a Bryde; 
 
 And each one had a little wicker basket, 
 
 Made of fine twigs, entrayled curiously. 
 
 In which they gathered flowers to fill their flasket, 
 
 And with fine Fingers cropt full feateously 
 
 The tender stalkes on hye. 
 
 Of every sort, which in that Meadow grew, 
 
 They gathered some; the Violet, pallid blew, 
 
 The little Dazie, that at evening closes. 
 
 The virgin Lillie, and the Primrose trew, 
 
 With store of vermeil Roses, 
 
 To decke their Bridegromes posies 
 
 Against the Brydale day, which was not long: 
 
 Sweete Themmes ! runne softly, till I end my Song. 
 
 With that I saw two Swannes of goodly hewe 
 
 Come softly swimming downe along the Lee; 
 
 Two fairer Birds I yet did never see; 
 
 The snow, which doth the top of Pindus strew 
 
 Did never whiter shew. 
 
 Nor Jove himselfe, when he a Swan would be, 
 
 For love of Leda, whiter did appeare; 
 
 Yet Leda was (they say) as white as he, 
 
 Yet not so white as these, nor nothing neare; 
 
 So purely white they were 
 
 That even the gentle streame, the which them bare, 
 
 Seem'd foule to them, and bad his billowes spare 
 
 To wet their silken feathers, lest they might 
 
 Soyle their fayre plumes with water not so fayre, 
 
 378 
 
 1 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 And marre their beauties bright, 
 
 That shone as Heaven's light, 
 
 Against their Brydale day, which was not long: 
 
 Sweete Themmes ! runne softly, till I end my Song. 
 
 Eftsoons the Nymphes, which now had Flowers their fill, 
 
 Ran all in haste to see that silver brood 
 
 As they came floating on the Christal Flood; 
 
 Whom when they sawe, they stood amazed still. 
 
 Their wondring eyes to fill; 
 
 Them seem'd they never saw a sight so fayre. 
 
 Of Fowles, so lovely, that they sure did deeme 
 
 Them heavenly borne, or to be that same payre 
 
 Which through the Skie draw Venus silver Teeme; 
 
 For sure they did not seeme 
 
 To be begot of any earthly Seede, 
 
 But rather Angels, or of Angels breede; 
 
 Yet were they bred of Somers-heat, they say, 
 
 In sweetest Season, when each Flower and weede 
 
 The earth did fresh aray; 
 
 So fresh they seem'd as day. 
 
 Even as their Brydale day, which was not long : 
 
 Sweete Themmes ! runne softly, till I end my Song. 
 
 Then forth they all out of their baskets drew 
 Great store of Flowers, the honour of the field. 
 That to the sense did fragrant odours yield. 
 All which upon those goodly Birds they threw 
 And all the Waves did strew, 
 That like old Peneus Waters they did seeme. 
 When downe along by pleasant Tempes shore 
 Scattred with Flowers, through Thessaly they streeme, 
 
 379 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 That they appeare, through Lilhes plenteous store, 
 Like a Brydes Chamber-flore. 
 
 Two of those Nymphes, meane while, two Garlands bound 
 Of freshest Flowres which in that Mead they found. 
 The which presenting all in trim Array, 
 Their snowie Foreheads therewithal they crownd, 
 Whil'st one did sing this Lay 
 Prepar'd against that Day, 
 
 Against their Brydale day, which was not long: 
 Sweet Themmes ! run softly, till I end my Song. 
 
 * Ye gentle Birdes ! the worlds faire ornament. 
 
 And Heavens glorie, whom this happie hower 
 
 Doth leade unto your lovers blisfull bower, 
 
 Joy may you have, and gentle hearts content 
 
 Of your loves couplement; 
 
 And let faire Venus, that is Queene of Love, 
 
 With her heart-quelling Sonne upon you smile, 
 
 Whose smile, they say, hath vertue to remove 
 
 All Loves dislike, and friendships faultie guile 
 
 For ever to assoile. 
 
 Let endlesse Peace your steadfast hearts accord, 
 
 And blessed Plentie wait upon your bord; 
 
 And let your bed with pleasures chast abound, 
 
 That fruitfull issue may to you afford, 
 
 Which may your foes confound. 
 
 And make your joyes redound 
 
 Upon your Brydale day, which is not long: 
 
 Sweete Themmes ! runne softly, till I end my Song/ 
 
 380 
 
i^ 
 
 ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 So ended she; and all the rest around 
 
 To her redoubled that her undersong, 
 
 Which said their brydale daye should not be long: 
 
 And gentle Eccho from the neighbour ground 
 
 Their accents did resound. 
 
 So forth those joyous Birdes did passe along 
 
 Adowne the Lee, that to them murmurde low, 
 
 As he would speake, but that he lackt a tong, 
 
 Yet did by signes his glad affection show, 
 
 Making his streame run slow. 
 
 And all the foule which in his flood did dwell 
 
 Gan flock about these twaine, that did excell 
 
 The rest, so far as Cynthia doth shend 
 
 The lesser starres. So they, enranged well, 
 
 Did on those two attend. 
 
 And their best service lend 
 
 Against their wedding day, which was not long: 
 
 Sweete Themmes ! runne softly, till I end my Song. 
 
 At length they all to mery London came. 
 
 To mery London, my most kindly Nurse, 
 
 That to me gave this Lifes first native sourse, 
 
 Though from another place I take my name, 
 
 An house of ancient fame: 
 
 There when they came, whereas those bricky towres 
 
 The which on Themmes brode aged back do ryde. 
 
 Where now the studious Lawyers have their bowers, 
 
 There whylome wont the Templar Knights to byde, 
 
 Till they decayd through pride; 
 
 Next whereunto there standes a stately place, 
 
 Where oft I gayned gifts and goodly grace 
 
 381 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Of that great Lord, which therein wont to dwell, 
 
 Whose want too well now feeles my friendles case; 
 
 But ah ! here fits not well 
 
 Olde woes, but joyes, to tell 
 
 Against the Brydale day, which is not long: 
 
 Sweete Themmes ! runne softly, till I end my Song. 
 
 Yet therein now doth lodge a noble Peer, 
 
 Great Englands glory, and the Worlds wide wonder, 
 
 Whose dreadfull name late through all Spaine did thunder, 
 
 And Hercules two pillars standing neere 
 
 Did make to quake and feare: 
 
 Faire branch of Honour, flower of Chevalrie ! 
 
 That fillest England with thy triumphes fame 
 
 Joy have thou of thy noble victorie. 
 
 And endlesse happinesse of thine owne name 
 
 That promiseth the same; 
 
 That through thy prowesse, and victorious armes 
 
 Thy country may be freed from forraine harmes, 
 
 And great Elisaes glorious name may ring 
 
 Through al the world, fil'd with thy wide Alarmes, 
 
 Which some brave Muse may sing 
 
 To ages following: 
 
 Upon the Brydale day, which is not long: 
 
 Sweete Themmes! runne softly, till I end my Song. 
 
 From those high Towers this noble Lord issuing, 
 Like Radiant Hesper, when his golden hayre 
 In th' Ocean billowes he hath bathed fayre. 
 Descended to the Rivers open viewing 
 With a great traine ensuing. 
 382 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Above the rest were goodly to bee seene 
 
 Two gentle Knights of lovely face and feature, 
 
 Beseeming well the bower of anie Queene, 
 
 With gifts of wit, and ornaments of nature, 
 
 Fit for so goodly stature, 
 
 That like the twins of Jove they seem'd in sight. 
 
 Which deck the Bauldricke of the Heavens bright; 
 
 They two, forth pacing to the Rivers side, 
 
 Received those two faire Brides, their Loves delight; 
 
 Which, at th' appointed tyde. 
 
 Each one did make his Bryde, 
 
 Against their Brydale day, which is not long: 
 
 Sweete Themmes ! runne softly, till I end my 5ong 
 
 E. Spenser 
 
 Sg6. Helenas Epithalamium 
 
 T IKE as the rising morning shows a grateful lightening, 
 ■^^ When sacred night is past and winter now lets loose 
 
 the spring. 
 So glittering Helen showed among the maids, lusty and 
 
 tall. 
 As is the furrow in a field that far outstretcheth all. 
 Or in a garden is a Cypress tree, or in a trace 
 A steed of Thessaly, so she to Sparta was a grace. 
 No damsel with such works as she her baskets used to fill. 
 Nor in diverse coloured web a woof of greater skill 
 Doth cut from off the loom : nor hath such songs and 
 
 lays 
 Unto her dainty harp, in Dian's and Minerva's praise, 
 
 383 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 As Helen hath, in whose bright eyes all Loves and Graces 
 
 be. 
 O fair, O lovely maid, a matron now is made of thee; 
 But we will every spring unto the leaves in meadows go 
 To gather garlands sweet, and there not with a little woe, 
 Will often think of thee, O Helen, as the suckling lambs 
 Desire the strouting bags and presence of their tender dams; 
 We all betimes for thee a wreath of Melitoe will knit, 
 And on a shady plane for thee will safely fasten it. 
 And all betimes for thee, under a shady plane below, 
 Out of a silver box the sweetest ointment will bestow. 
 And letters shall be written in the bark that men may see 
 And read. Do humble reverence, for I am Helen's tree. 
 
 Sir E. Dyer 
 
 Sp/. The Fay's Marriage 
 
 Mertilla, Claia, Claris 
 
 yf NTMPH is married to a Fay, 
 ■^■*- Great preparations for the day; 
 
 All rites of nuptials they recite you. 
 To the bridal and invite you. 
 
 Mertilla 
 But will our Tita wed this Fay ? 
 
 Claia 
 Yea, and to-morrow is the day. 
 384 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Mertilla 
 
 But why should she bestow herself 
 Upon this dwarfish fairy elf? 
 
 Claia 
 
 Why, by her smallness you may find 
 That she is of the fairy kind, 
 And therefore apt to choose her make 
 Whence she did her beginning take : 
 Besides he's deft and wondrous airy, 
 And of the noblest of the Fairy, 
 Chief of the Crickets of much fame, 
 In Fairy a most ancient name. 
 But to be brief, 'tis clearly done. 
 The pretty wench is wooed and won. 
 
 Chris 
 
 If this be so, let us provide 
 
 The ornaments to fit our bride; 
 
 For they knowing she doth come 
 
 From us in Elysium, 
 
 Queen Mab will look she should be drest 
 
 In those attires we think our best; 
 
 Therefore some curious things let's give her, 
 
 Ere to her spouse we her deliver. 
 
 Mertilla 
 
 I'll have a jewel for her ear 
 
 (Which for my sake I'll have her wear), 
 
 385 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 'Tshall be a dewdrop, and therein 
 
 Of Cupids I will have a twin, 
 
 Which struggling, with their wings shall break 
 
 The bubble, out of which shall leak 
 
 So sweet a liquor, as shall move 
 
 Each thing that smells, to be in love. 
 
 Claia 
 
 Believe me, girl, this will be fine, 
 And, to this pendent, then take mine; 
 A cup in fashion of a fly, 
 Of the lynx' piercing eye. 
 Wherein there sticks a sunny ray, 
 Shot in through the clearest day. 
 Whose brightness Venus' self did move 
 Therein to put her drink of love. 
 Which for more strength she did distil. 
 The hmbeck was a phoenix' quill; 
 At this cup's delicious brink, 
 A fly approaching but to drink, 
 Like amber, or some precious gum, 
 It transparent doth become. 
 
 Claris 
 
 For jewels for her ears she's sped; 
 But for a dressing for her head 
 I think for her I'll have a tire 
 That all the Fairies shall admire: 
 The yellows in the full-blown rose, 
 Which in the top it doth inclose, 
 386 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Like drops of gold ore shall be hung 
 
 Upon her tresses, and among 
 
 Those scattered seeds (the eye to please) 
 
 The wings of the cantharides : 
 
 With some o' the rainbow that doth rail 
 
 Those moons in, in the peacock's tail: 
 
 Whose dainty colours being mixed 
 
 With the other beauties, and so fixed. 
 
 Her lovely tresses shall appear 
 
 As though upon a flame they were. 
 
 And, to be sure they shall be gay, 
 
 We'll take those feathers from the jay; 
 
 About her eyes in circlets set, 
 
 To be our Tita's coronet. 
 
 Mertilla 
 
 Then, dainty girls, I make no doubt, 
 But we shall neatly send her out; 
 But let's amongst ourselves agree 
 Of what her wedding gown shall be. 
 
 Claia 
 
 Of pansy, pink, and primrose leaves. 
 Most curiously laid on in threaves: 
 And, all embroidery to supply. 
 Powdered with flowers of rosemary; 
 A trail about the skirt shall run, 
 The silk-worm's finest, newly spun 
 And every seam the nymphs shall sew 
 With the smallest of the spinner's clue : 
 
 387 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 And having done their work, again 
 These to the church shall bear her train : 
 Which for our Tita we will make 
 Of the cast slough of a snake, 
 Which, quivering as the wind doth blow, 
 The sun shall it like tinsel show. 
 
 Claris 
 
 And being led to meet her mate. 
 
 To make sure that she want no state. 
 
 Moons from the peacock's tail we'll shred, 
 
 With feathers from the pheasant's head: 
 
 Mixed with the plume of, so high price, 
 
 The precious bird of Paradise; 
 
 Which to make up our nymphs shall ply 
 
 Into a curious canopy. 
 
 Borne, o'er her head, by our enquiry, 
 
 By elfs, the fittest of the Fairy. 
 
 Mertilla 
 
 But all this while we have forgot 
 
 Her buskins, neighbours, have we not ? 
 
 CI 
 
 'aia 
 
 We had, for those I'll fit her now. 
 
 They shall be of the lady-cow: 
 
 The dainty shell upon her back 
 
 Of crimson strewed with spots of black; 
 
 Which as she holds a stately pace. 
 
 Her leg will wonderfully grace. 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Claris 
 
 But then for music of the best, 
 
 This must be thought on for the feast. 
 
 Merttlla 
 
 The nightingale of birds most choice 
 To do her best shall strain her voice; 
 And to this bird to make a set, 
 The marvis, merle, and robinet. 
 The lark, the linnet, and the thrush, 
 That make a choir of every bush. 
 But for still music, we will keep 
 The wren, and titmouse, which to sleep 
 Shall sing the bride, when she's alone, 
 The rest into their chambers gone. 
 And, Hke those upon ropes that walk. 
 On gossamer, from stalk to stalk. 
 The tripping fairy tricks shall play 
 The evening of the wedding-day. 
 
 Claia 
 
 But, for the bride-bed, what were fit, 
 That hath not been talked of yet. 
 
 Claris 
 
 Of leaves of roses white and red, 
 Shall be the covering of her bed. 
 The curtains, valence, tester, all. 
 Shall be the flower imperial: 
 
 389 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 And for the fringe, it all along 
 With azure harebells shall be hung: 
 Of lilies shall the pillows be, 
 With down stuifed of the butterfly. 
 
 Mertilla 
 
 Thus far we handsomely have gone. 
 
 Now for our prothalamion. 
 
 Or marriage song, of all the rest 
 
 A thing that much must grace our feast. 
 
 Let us practise, then, to sing it 
 
 Ere we before the assembly bring it; 
 
 We in dialogues must do it; 
 
 Then, my dainty girls, set to it. 
 
 CI at a 
 
 This day must Tita married be; 
 Come, nymphs, this nuptial let us see. 
 
 Mertilla 
 
 But is it certain that ye say ? 
 Will she wed the noble Fay ? 
 
 Chris 
 
 Sprinkle the dainty flowers with dews. 
 Such as the gods at banquets use: 
 Let herbs and weeds turn all to roses, ■ 
 And make proud the posts with posies: 
 390 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Shoot your sweets into the air, 
 Charge the morning to be fair. 
 
 Claia and Mertilla 
 
 For our Tita is this day 
 To be married to a Fay. 
 
 Claia 
 
 By whom, then, shall our bride be led 
 To the temple to be wed ? 
 
 Mertilla 
 
 Only by yourself and I; 
 
 Who that roomth should else supply? 
 
 Claris 
 
 Come, bright girls, come all together. 
 And bring all your offerings hither. 
 Ye most brave and buxom bevy. 
 All your goodly graces levy, 
 Come in majesty and state 
 Our bridal here to celebrate. 
 
 Mertilla and Claia 
 
 For our Tita is this day 
 Married to a noble Fay. 
 
 391 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 CI at a 
 
 Whose lot wilFt be the way to straw, 
 On which to church our bride must go ? 
 
 Mertilla 
 
 That I think as fit'st of all 
 To lively Lelipa will fall. 
 
 Claris 
 
 Summon all the sweets that are, 
 
 To this nuptial to repair; 
 
 Till with their throngs themselves they smother, 
 
 Strongly stifling one another; 
 
 And at last they all consume, 
 
 And vanish in one rich perfume. 
 
 Mertilla and Claia 
 
 For our Tita is this day 
 Married to a noble Fay. 
 
 Mertilla 
 
 By whom must Tita married be ? 
 Tis fit we all to that should see. 
 
 Claia 
 
 The priest he purposely doth come, 
 The Arch-Flamen of Elysium. 
 392 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Cloris 
 
 With tapers let the temples shine, 
 Sing to Hymen hymns divine; 
 Load the altars till there rise 
 Clouds from the burnt sacrifice; 
 With your censers sling aloof 
 Their smells, till they ascend the roofa 
 
 Mertilla and Claia 
 
 For our Tita is this day 
 Married to a noble Fay. 
 
 Mertilla 
 
 But coming back when she is wed. 
 Who breaks the cake above her head ? 
 
 Claia 
 
 That shall Mertilla, for she's tallest, 
 And our Tita is the smallest. 
 
 Cloris 
 
 Violins, strike up aloud, 
 
 Ply the gittern, scour the crowd. 
 
 Let the nimble hand belabour 
 
 The whistling pipe, and drumbling tabor: 
 
 To the full the bagpipe rack, 
 
 Till the swelling leather crack. 
 
 393 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Mertilla and Claia 
 
 For our Tita is this day 
 Married to a noble Fay. 
 
 Claia 
 
 But when to dine she takes her seat, 
 What shall be our Tita's meat ? 
 
 Mertilla 
 
 The gods this feast, as to begin, 
 Have sent of their ambrosia in. 
 
 Cloris 
 
 Then serve we up the straw's rich berry, 
 The respas, and Elysian cherry; 
 The virgin honey from the flowers 
 In Hybla, wrought in Flora's bowers; 
 Full bowls of nectar, and no girl. 
 Carouse but in dissolved pearl. 
 
 Mertilla and Claia 
 
 For our Tita is this day 
 Married to a noble Fay. 
 
 Claia 
 
 But when night comes, and she must go 
 To bed, dear nymphs, what must we do ? 
 394 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Mertilla 
 
 In the posset must be brought, 
 
 And points be from the bridegroom caught. 
 
 Chris 
 
 In masks, in dances, and deHght, 
 And rare banquets spend the night; 
 Then about the room we ramble, 
 Scatter nuts, and for them scramble; 
 Over stools and tables tumble. 
 Never think of noise nor rumble. 
 
 Mertilla and Clara 
 
 For our Tita is this day 
 Married to a noble Fay. 
 
 M. Drayton 
 
 3g8, A Ballad Upon a Wedding 
 
 T TELL thee, Dick, where I have been, 
 ■^ Where I, the rarest things have seen; 
 O, things without compare ! 
 Such sights again cannot be found 
 In any place on English ground, 
 Be it at Wake or Fair. 
 
 At Charing Cross, hard by the way 
 Where we (thou know'st ') do sell our hay, 
 
 395 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 There is a house with stairs; 
 And there, did I see coming down 
 Such folk as are not in our town, 
 
 Forty at least, in pairs. 
 
 Amongst the rest, one pest'lent fine 
 
 (His beard no bigger, though, than thine) 
 
 Walked on before the rest. 
 Our landlord looks like nothing to him; 
 The King (God bless him !), 'twould undo him, 
 
 Should he go still so drest. 
 
 At Course-a-Park, without all doubt. 
 He should have first been taken out 
 
 By all the Maids i' th' town; 
 Though lusty Roger there had been 
 Or little George upon the Green, 
 
 Or Vincent of the Crown. 
 
 But wot you what ? The Youth was going 
 To make an end of all his wooing. 
 
 The Parson for him stayed; 
 Yet, by his leave, for all his haste, 
 He did not so much wish all past, 
 
 Perchance, as did the Maid. 
 
 The Maid (and thereby hangs a tale !) : 
 For such a Maid no Whitsun-Ale 
 
 Could ever yet produce; 
 No grape that 's kindly ripe could be 
 So round, so plump, so soft, as She; 
 
 Nor half so full of juice ! 
 396 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Her Finger was so small, the ring 
 
 Would not stay on; which they did bring. 
 
 It was too wide a peck ; 
 And to say truth, (for out it must) 
 It looked like the great collar (just) 
 
 About our young colt's neck. 
 
 Her Feet, beneath her petticoat, 
 Like little mice stole in and out. 
 
 As if they feared the light: 
 But O, She dances such' a way! 
 No sun, upon an Easter Day, 
 
 Is half so fine a sight. 
 
 Her Cheeks so rare a white was on; 
 No daisy makes comparison; 
 
 Who sees them is undone; 
 For streaks of red were mingled there. 
 Such as are on a Katherine pear 
 
 (The side that's next the sun). 
 
 Her lips were red, and one was thin 
 Compared to that was next her chin, 
 
 Some bee had stung it newly: 
 But, Dick ! her Eyes so guard her face ; 
 I durst no more upon them gaze. 
 
 Than on the sun in July. 
 
 Her Mouth so small, when she does speak, 
 Thou'dst swear her teeth, her words did breaks 
 That they might passage get: 
 
 397 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 But She so handled still the matter, 
 They came as good as ours, or better; 
 And are not spent a whit! . . , 
 
 Just in the nick, the Cook knocked thrice, 
 And all the Waiters, in a trice. 
 
 His summons did obey; 
 Each Serving Man, with dish in hand. 
 Marched boldly up, like our Trained Band, 
 
 Presented, and away ! 
 
 When all the meat was on the table; 
 What man of knife, or teeth, was able 
 
 To stay to be intreated ! 
 And this the very reason was. 
 Before the Parson could say Grace, 
 
 The company was seated ! 
 
 The business of the kitchen 's great. 
 For it is fit that men should eat; 
 
 Nor was it there denied. 
 (Passion o' me ! how I run on ! 
 There's that, that would be thought upon, 
 
 I trow, besides the Bride !) 
 
 Now, hats fly off; and Youths carouse ! 
 Healths first go round ; and then the house ! 
 
 The Bride's came thick and thick; 
 And when 'twas named another's Health ; 
 Perhaps, he made it hers by stealth ; 
 
 (And who could help it, Dick ?) 
 398 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 O' th' sudden, up they rise and dance; 
 Then sit again, and sigh, and glance; 
 
 Then dance again and kiss ! 
 Thus, several ways, the time did pass; 
 Whilst every w^oman wished her place, 
 
 And every man wished his! . . . 
 
 Sir J. Suckling 
 
 Sgg. Sephestia's Song to Her Child 
 
 W 
 
 EEP not, my wanton, smile upon my knee; 
 When thou art old there's grief enough for thee. 
 Mother's wag, pretty boy. 
 Father's sorrow, father's joy; 
 When thy father first did see 
 Such a boy by him and me, 
 He was glad, I was woe; 
 Fortune changed made him so, 
 When he left his pretty boy, 
 Last his sorrow, first his joy. 
 
 Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee, 
 When thou art old there's grief enough for thee. 
 
 Streaming tears that never stint. 
 
 Like pearl-drops from a flint, 
 
 Fell by course from his eyes, 
 
 That one another's place supplies; 
 
 Thus he grieved in every part, 
 
 Tears of blood fell from his heart, 
 
 When he left his pretty boy, 
 
 Father's sorrow, father's joy. 
 
 399 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee, 
 When thou art old there's grief enough for thee. 
 
 The wanton smiled, father wept 
 
 Mother cried, baby leapt; 
 
 More he crow'd, more we cried, 
 
 Nature could not sorrow hide: 
 
 He must go, he must kiss 
 
 Child and mother, baby bliss. 
 
 For he left his pretty boy. 
 
 Father's sorrow, father's joy. 
 Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee. 
 When thou art old there's grief enough for thee. 
 
 R. Greene 
 
 4.00. A Sweet Lullaby 
 
 r^OME little babe, come, silly soul, 
 ^^ Thy father's shame, thy mother's grief, 
 Born as I doubt to all our dole. 
 And to thyself unhappy chief: 
 Sing lullaby and lap it warm. 
 Poor soul that thinks no creature harm. 
 
 Thou little think'st and less dost know 
 
 The cause of this thy mother's moan; 
 Thou want'st the wit to wail her woe. 
 And I myself am all alone: 
 
 Why dost thou weep ? why dost thou wail ? 
 And know'st not yet what dost thou ail ? 
 
 400 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Come little wretch, — ah silly heart ! 
 Mine only joy, what can I more ? 
 If there be any wrong thy smart, 
 That may the destinies implore: 
 Twas I, I say, against my will; 
 I wail the time, but be thou still. 
 
 And dost thou smile ? O, thy sweet face ! 
 
 Would God himself he might thee see ! — 
 No doubt thou soon wouldst purchase grace, 
 I know right well, for thee and me: 
 But come to mother, babe, and play, 
 For father false is fled away. 
 
 Sweet boy, if it by fortune chance 
 Thy father home again to send, 
 If death do strike me with his lance, 
 Yet mayst thou me to him commend: 
 If any ask thy mother's name. 
 Tell how by love she purchased blame. 
 
 Then will his gentle heart soon yield : 
 
 I know him of a noble mind : 
 Although a lion in the field, 
 
 A lamb in town thou shalt him find; 
 Ask blessing, babe, be not afraid. 
 His sugar'd words hath me betray'd. 
 
 Then mayst thou joy and be right glad, 
 Although in woe I seem to moan; 
 
 401 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Thy father is no rascal lad, 
 
 A noble youth of blood and bone: 
 His glancing looks, if he once smile. 
 Right honest women may beguile. 
 
 Come, little boy, and rock asleep; 
 
 Sing lullaby and be thou still; 
 I, that can do naught else but weep, 
 Will sit by thee and wail my fill: 
 God bless my babe, and lullaby 
 From this thy father's quality. 
 
 N. Breton 
 
 w 
 
 401. A Child's Grace 
 
 [ERE a little child I stand 
 Heaving up my either hand; 
 Cold as paddocks though they be, 
 Yet I lift them up to Thee, 
 For a benison to fall 
 On our meat and on us all. Amen. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 402, When That I Was and a Little Tiny 
 Boy 
 
 ■\ 1 THEN that I was and a little tiny boy, 
 
 ^ ^ With hey, ho, the wind and the rain ; 
 A foolish thing was but a toy, 
 
 For the rain it raineth every day. 
 402 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 But when I came to man's estate, 
 With hey, ho, the wind and the rain; 
 
 'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate, 
 For the rain it raineth every day. 
 
 But when I came, alas ! to wive. 
 With hey, ho, the wind and the rain; 
 
 By swaggering could I never thrive. 
 For the rain it raineth every day. 
 
 But when I came unto my beds, 
 With hey, ho, the wind and the rain; 
 
 With to-ss-pots still had drunken heads, 
 For the rain it raineth every day. 
 
 A great while ago the world begun, 
 With hey, ho, the wind and the rain; 
 
 But that's all one, our play is done. 
 
 And we'll strive to please you every day. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 40 J. Music 
 
 "X^THEN whispering strains with weeping wind 
 
 ^ Distil soft passions through the heart; 
 And when at every touch we find 
 Our pulses beat and bear a part 
 When threads can make 
 A heart-string ache. 
 Philosophy 
 Can scarce deny 
 Our souls are made of harmony. 
 
 403 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 When unto heavenly joys we faine 
 Whate'er the soul afFecteth most, 
 Which only thus we can explain 
 By music of the heavenly host; 
 Whose lays we think 
 Make stars to wink, 
 Philosophy 
 Can scarce deny 
 Our souls consist of harmony. 
 
 O, lull me, lull me, charming air! 
 
 My senses rock with wonder sweet; 
 Like snow on wool thy fallings are; 
 Soft like a spirit's are thy feet! 
 Grief who needs fear 
 That hath an ear ? 
 Down let him lie. 
 And slumbering die. 
 And change his soul for harmony. 
 
 W. Strode 
 
 404. Music to Hear, Why heafst Thou 
 Music Sadly? 
 
 "\ /TUSIC to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly ? 
 -'■-'■ Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy. 
 Why lov'st thou that which thou receiv'st not gladly, 
 Or else receivest with pleasure thine annoy ? 
 If the true concord of well-tuned sounds, 
 By unions married, do offend thine ear. 
 They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds 
 In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear. 
 404 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Mark how one string, sweet husband to another, 
 Strikes each in each by mutual ordering, 
 Resembhng sire and child and happy mother 
 Who all in one, one pleasing note do sing : 
 Whose speechless song, being many, seeming one. 
 Sings this to thee : " Thou single wilt prove none." 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 4.0^. Orpheus 
 
 /^RPHEUS with his lute made trees 
 ^-^ And the mountain-tops that freeze 
 
 Bow themselves when he did sing: 
 To his music plants and flowers 
 Ever sprung; as sun and showers 
 
 There had made a lasting spring. 
 
 Everything that heard him play. 
 Even the billows of the sea, 
 
 Hung their heads, and then lay by. 
 In sweet music is such art. 
 Killing care and grief of heart 
 
 Fall asleep, or hearing, die. 
 
 W. Shakespeare^ or J. Fletcher 
 
 406. To Music, to Becalm His Fever 
 
 /^~^HARM me asleep, and melt me so 
 
 — With thy delicious numbers. 
 That, being ravisht, hence I go 
 Away in easy slumbers. 
 Ease my sick head. 
 And make my bed, 
 
 405 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Thou power that canst sever 
 From me this ill, 
 And quickly still, 
 Though thou not kill, 
 
 My fever. ■; 
 
 Thou sweetly canst convert the same 
 
 From a consuming fire . ^ 
 
 Into a gently licking flame, '■ 
 
 And make it thus expire. : 
 
 Then make me weep J 
 
 My pains asleep; : 
 
 And give me such reposes ] 
 
 That I, — poor I, s 
 
 May think thereby .1 
 
 I live and die ] 
 
 'Mongst roses. 
 
 Fall on me like the silent dew, j 
 
 Or like those maiden showers I 
 
 Which, by the peep of day, do strew i 
 
 A baptism o'er the flowers. 
 Melt, melt my pains 
 
 With thy soft strains; J 
 
 That, having ease me given, 
 
 With full delight J 
 
 I leave this light, 
 And take my flight 
 
 For Heaven. > 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 406 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 ^07. Let Rhymes No More Disgrace 
 
 IV /TUSIC, some think, no music is 
 ^^ ^ Unless she sing of dip and kiss 
 And bring to wanton tunes " Fie, fie!" 
 Or " Tih-ha tah-ha ! " or " I'll cry ! " 
 But let such rhymes no more disgrace 
 Music sprung of heavenly race. 
 
 F 
 
 408. 1} Music and Sweet Poetry Agree 
 
 F music and sweet poetry agree. 
 As they must needs, the sister and the brother, 
 Then must the love be great 'twixt thee and me, 
 Because thou lov'st the one and I the other. 
 Dowland to thee is dear, whose heavenly touch 
 Upon the lute doth ravish human sense; 
 Spenser to me, whose deep conceit is such, 
 As passing all conceit, needs no defence. 
 Thou lov'st to hear the sweet melodious sound 
 That Phcebus' lute, the queen of music, makes; 
 And I in deep delight am chiefly drowned 
 Whenas himself to singing he betakes: 
 One god is god of both, as poets feign, 
 One knight loves both, and both in thee remain. 
 
 R. BarnfieU 
 
 40 p. The Bower of Bliss 
 
 T^HENCE passing forth, they shortly doe arryve 
 "*- Whereas the Bowre of Blisse was situate; 
 A place pickt out by choyce of best alyve, 
 That natures worke by art can imitate: 
 
 407 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 In which whatever in this worldly state 
 
 Is sweete and pleasing unto living sense, 
 
 Or that may dayntest fantasy aggrate, 
 
 Was poured forth with plentiful! dispence. 
 
 And made there to abound with lavish affluence. 
 
 Goodly it was enclosed rownd about, 
 As well their entred guestes to keep within. 
 As those unruly beasts to hold without; 
 Yet was the fence thereof but weake and thin: 
 Nought feard theyr force that fortilage to win, 
 But wisedomes powre, and temperaunces might, 
 By which the mightiest things elForced bin : 
 And eke the gate was wrought of substaunce light, 
 Rather for pleasure then for battery or fight. 
 
 Yt framed was of precious yvory, 
 That seemd a worke of admirable witt; 
 And therein all the famous history 
 Of Jason and Medaea was ywritt; 
 Her mighty charmes, her furious loving fitt; 
 His goodly conquest o-f the golden fleece, 
 His falsed fayth, and love too lightly flitt; 
 The wondred Argo, which in venturous peece 
 First through the Euxine seas bore all the flowr of Greece. 
 
 Eftsoones they heard a most melodious sound, 
 Of all that mote delight a daintie eare. 
 Such as attonce might not on living ground. 
 Save in this Paradise, be heard elsewhere: 
 Right hard it was for wight which did it heare, 
 408 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 To read what manner musicke that mote bee; 
 
 For all that pleasing is to living eare 
 
 Was there consorted in one harmonee; 
 
 Birdes, voices, instruments, v^indes, waters, all agree : 
 
 The joyous birdes, shrouded in chearefull shade 
 Their notes unto the voice attempred sweet; 
 Th' Angelicall soft trembling voyces made 
 To th' instruments divine respondence meet; 
 The silver sounding instruments did meet 
 With the base murmure of the waters fall; 
 The waters fall with difference discreet, 
 Now soft, now loud, unto the wind did call; 
 The gentle warbling wind low answered to all. 
 
 There, whence that Musick seemed heard to bee, 
 Was the faire Witch her selfe now solacing 
 With a new Lover, whom, through sorceree 
 And witchcraft, she from farre did thither bring: 
 There she had him now laid aslombering 
 In secret shade after long wanton joyes; 
 Whilst round about them pleasauntly did sing 
 Many faire Ladies and lascivious boyes, 
 That ever mixt their song with light licentious toyeSc 
 
 The whiles some one did chaunt this lovely lay: 
 Ah ! see, whoso fayre thing doest faine to see. 
 In springing flowre the image of thy day. 
 Ah ! see the Virgin Rose, how sweetly shee 
 Doth first peepe foorth with bashfuU modestee, 
 
 409 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 That fairer seemes the lesse ye see her may. 
 Lo ! see soone after how more bold and free 
 Her bared bosome she doth broad display; 
 Lo ! see soone after how she fades and falls away. 
 
 So passeth, in the passing of a day, 
 Of mortall life the leafe, the bud, the flowre; 
 Ne more doth florish after first decay. 
 That earst was sought to deck both bed and bowre 
 Of many a lady, and many a Paramowre. 
 Gather therefore the Rose whilest yet is prime. 
 For soone comes age that will her pride deflowre; 
 Gather the Rose of Love whilest yet is time, 
 Whilest loving thou mayst loved be with equal crime. 
 
 He ceast; and then gan all the quire of birdes 
 Their diverse notes t' attune unto his lay, 
 As in approvaunce of his pleasing wordes. 
 The constant payre heard all that he did say, 
 Yet swarved not, but kept their forward way 
 Through many covert groves and thickets close, 
 In which they creeping did at last display 
 That wanton Lady with her Lover lose. 
 Whose sleepee head she in her lap did soft dispose. 
 
 E. Spenser 
 
 410. Church Music 
 
 OWEETEST of sweets, I thank you: when displeasure 
 *^ Did through my body wound my mind. 
 You took me thence, and in your house of pleasure 
 A dainty lodging me assign'd. 
 410 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Now I in you without a body move, 
 
 Rising and falling with your wings; 
 We both together sweetly live and love, 
 
 Yet say sometimes, God help poor kings! 
 
 Comfort, I'll die; for if you post from me 
 
 Sure I shall do so and much more; 
 But if I travel in your company. 
 
 You know the way to Heaven's door. 
 
 G. Herbert 
 
 yfii. To Live Merrily and to Trust to Good 
 Verses 
 
 IVJOW is the time for mirth, 
 ■^ ^ Nor cheek or tongue be dumb; 
 For, with the flowery earth. 
 The golden pomp is come. 
 
 The golden pomp is come; 
 
 For now each tree does wear, 
 Made of her pap and gum. 
 
 Rich beads of amber here: 
 
 Now reigns the rose, and now 
 
 Th' Arabian dew besmears 
 My uncontrolled brow 
 
 And my retorted hairs. 
 
 Homer, this health to thee! 
 
 — In sack of such a kind 
 That it would make thee see 
 
 Though thou wert ne'er so blind. 
 
 411 
 
412 
 
 THE BOOK OF 
 
 Next, Virgil I'll call forth 
 To pledge this second health 
 
 In wine, whose each cup's worth 
 An Indian commonwealth. 
 
 A goblet next I'll drink 
 To Ovid, and suppose. 
 
 Made he the pledge, he'd think 
 The world had all one nose. 
 
 Then this immensive cup 
 
 Of aromatic wine, 
 Catullus, I'll quaff up 
 
 To that terse muse of thine. 
 
 Wild I am now with heat: 
 O Bacchus, cool thy rays ! 
 
 Or frantic I shall eat 
 
 Thy thyrse and bite the bays. 
 
 Round, round the roof does run, 
 And being ravished thus, 
 
 Come, I will drink a tun 
 To my Propertius. 
 
 Now to Tibullus, next. 
 
 This flood I'll drink to thee: 
 
 But stay, I see a text 
 
 That this presents to me: — 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE. 
 
 Behold, Tihullus lies 
 Here burnt, whose small return 
 
 Of ashes scarce suffice 
 To fill a little urn. 
 
 Trust to good verses then; 
 
 They only will aspire 
 When pyramids, as men, 
 
 Are lost i' th' funeral fire. 
 
 And when all bodies meet 
 
 In Lethe to be drown'd, 
 Then only numbers sweet 
 
 With endless life are crown'd. 
 
 R. Her rick 
 
 412. Master Francis Beaumonfs Letter to 
 Ben Jonson 
 
 Written before he and Master Fletcher came to London, with 
 two of the precedent Comedies, then not finished; which 
 deferred their merry meetings at the " Mermaid." ■ 
 
 nPHE sun (which doth the greatest comfort bring 
 -■- To absent friends, because the self-same thing 
 They know they see, however absent) is 
 Here our best haymaker (forgive me this; 
 It is our country's style) : in this warm shine 
 I lie, and dream of your full Mermaid Wine. 
 O, we have Winter mixed with claret lees. 
 Drink apt to bring in drier heresies 
 
 413 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Than beer, good only for the sonnet's strain, 
 With fustian metaphors to stuff the brain ; 
 So mixed, that, given to the thirstiest one, 
 Twill not prove alms, unless he have the stone; 
 I think with one draught man's invention fades. 
 Two cups had quite spoiled Homer's Iliads! 
 'Tis liquor that will find out Sutcliff's wit, 
 Lie where he will, and make him write worse yet. 
 Filled with such moisture, in most grievous qualms. 
 Did Robert Wisdom write his singing Psalms; 
 And so must I do this: and yet I think 
 It is our potion sent us down to drink. 
 By special Providence, keeps us from fights. 
 Makes us not laugh, when we make legs to Knights: 
 'Tis this that keeps our minds fit for our states; 
 A medicine to obey our Magistrates; 
 For we do live more free than you; no hate. 
 No envy at one another's happy state. 
 Moves us; we are equal every whit; 
 Of land that God gives men, here is their wit. 
 If we consider fully; for our best 
 And gravest man will with his main-house-iest 
 Scarce please you: we want subtlety to do 
 The city-tricks; lie. Hate, and flatter too: 
 Here are none that can bear a painted show. 
 Strike, when you wince, and then lament the blow; 
 Who (like mills set the right way for to grind) 
 Can make their gains alike with every wind : 
 Only some fellows with the subtlest pate 
 Amongst us, may perchance equivocate 
 At selling of a horse; and that's the most. 
 Methinks the little wit I had is lost 
 414 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Since I saw you; for wit is like a rest 
 
 Held up at tennis, which men do the best 
 
 With the best gamesters. What things have we seen 
 
 Done at the Mermaid! heard words that have been 
 
 So nimble, and so full of subtle flame. 
 
 As if that every one (from whence they came) 
 
 Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, 
 
 And had resolved to live a fool the rest 
 
 Of his dull life; — then when there hath been thrown 
 
 Wit able enough to justify the town 
 
 For three days past; wit that might warrant be 
 
 For the whole city to talk foolishly 
 
 Till that were cancelled; and, when we were gone, 
 
 We left an air behind us; which alone 
 
 Was able to make the two next companies 
 
 (Right witty; though but downright fools) more 
 
 wise ! 
 
 When I remember this, and see that now 
 The country gentlemen begin to allow 
 My wit for dry bobs, then I needs must cry, 
 * I see my days of ballating grow nigh ! ' 
 I can already riddle, and can sing 
 Catches, sell bargains: and I fear shall bring 
 Myself to speak the hardest words I find 
 Over as oft as any, with one wind, 
 That takes no medicines. But one thought of thee 
 Makes me remember all these things to be 
 The wit of our young men, fellows that show 
 No part of good, yet utter all they know; 
 Who, like trees of the guard, have growing souls. 
 Only strong Destiny, which all controls, 
 I hope hath left a better fate in store 
 
 415 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 For me, thy friend, than to live ever poor. 
 Banished unto this home. Fate once again, 
 Bring me to thee, who canst make smooth and plain 
 The way of knowledge for me, and then I 
 (Who have no good, but in thy company,) 
 Protest it will my greatest comfort be, 
 To acknowledge all I have, to flow from thee ! 
 Ben, when these Scenes are perfect, we'll taste wine ! 
 I'll drink thy Muse's health ! thou shalt quafl 
 mine ! 
 
 F. Beaumont 
 
 41 J. His Prayer to Ben Jonson 
 
 "^l^ 7"HEN I a verse shall make, 
 ^ ^ Know I have pray'd thee, 
 For old religion's sake, 
 Saint Ben, to aid me. 
 
 Make the way smooth for me 
 
 When, I, thy Herrick, 
 Honouring thee on my knee 
 
 Offer my Lyric. 
 
 Candles I'll give to thee, 
 
 And a new altar; 
 And thou, Saint Ben, shalt be 
 
 Writ in my psalter. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 416 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 414. London Taverns 
 
 T^HE Gentry to the King's Head, 
 -^ The Nobles to the Crown^ 
 The Knights unto the Golden Fleece, 
 And to the Plough, the Clown. 
 
 The Churchman to the Mitre, 
 
 The Shepherd to the Star, 
 The Gardener hies him to the Rose, 
 
 To the Drum, the man of war. 
 
 To the Feathers, Ladies you ! The Glohe 
 
 The Seaman doth not scorn ! 
 The Usurer to the Devil; and 
 
 The Townsman to the Horn. 
 
 The Huntsman to the White Hart, 
 To the Ship, the Merchant goes; 
 
 But you that do the Muses love, 
 The Swan, called river Po. 
 
 The Bankrupt to the World's End, 
 
 The Fool to the Fortune hie; 
 Unto the Mouth, the Oyster Wife; 
 The Fidler to the Pie. . . . 
 
 T. Heywood 
 417 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 415. Lei the Bells Ring, and Let the Boys 
 Sing 
 
 T ET the bells ring, and let the boys sing, 
 -'^^ The young lasses skip and play; 
 Let the cups go round, till round goes the ground; 
 Our learned old vicar will stay. 
 
 Let the pig turn merrily, merrily, ah! 
 
 And let the fat goose swim; 
 For verily, verily, verily, ah ! ' 
 
 Our vicar this day shall be trim. 
 
 The stewed cock shall crow, cock-a-loodle-loo, 
 
 A loud cock-a-loodle shall he crow; 
 The duck and the drake shall swim in a lake 
 
 Of onions and claret below. 
 
 Our wives shall be neat, to bring in our meat 
 
 To thee our most noble adviser; 
 Our pains shall be great, and bottles shall sweat 
 
 And we ourselves will be wiser. 
 
 We'll labour and swink, we'll kiss and we'll drink, 
 
 And tithes shall come thicker and thicker; 
 We'll fall to our plough, and get children enow. 
 And thou shalt be learned old vicar. 
 
 J. Fletcher 
 418 
 
I 
 
 ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 -^7(5. Jolly Good Ale and Old 
 
 CANNOT eat but little meat, 
 My stomach is not good; 
 But sure I think that I can drink 
 
 With him that wears a hood. 
 Though I go bare, take ye no care, 
 
 I nothing am a-cold; 
 I stuff my skin so full within 
 Of jolly good ale and old. 
 
 Back and side go bare, go bare; 
 
 Both foot and hand go cold; 
 
 But, belly, God send thee good ale enough, 
 
 Whether it be new or old. 
 
 I love no roast but a nut-brown toast. 
 
 And a crab laid in the fire; 
 A little bread shall do me stead; 
 
 Much bread I not desire. 
 No frost nor snow, no wind, I trow, 
 
 Can hurt me if I wold; 
 I am so wrapp'd and thoroughly lapp'd 
 
 Of jolly good ale and old. 
 
 Back and side go bare, go bare, etc. 
 
 And Tib, my wife, that as her life 
 
 Loveth well good ale to seek. 
 Full oft drinks she till ye may see 
 
 The tears run down her cheek : 
 Then doth she trowl to me the bowl 
 
 Even as a maltworm should, 
 
 419 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 And saith, ' Sweetheart, I took my part 
 Of this jolly good ale and old.' 
 
 Back and side go bare, go bare, etc. 
 
 Now let them drink till they nod and wink 
 
 Even as good fellows should do; 
 They shall not miss to have the bliss 
 
 Good ale doth bring men to; 
 And all poor souls that have scoured bowls 
 
 Or have them lustily troll'd, 
 God save the lives of them and their wives, 
 Whether they be young or old. 
 Back and side go bare, go bare; 
 Both foot and hand go cold; 
 But, belly, God send thee good ale and cold, 
 Whether it be new or old. 
 
 J. Still, Bishop of Bath and Wells 
 
 417. Pedlafs Song 
 
 "C*INE knacks for ladies! cheap, choice, brave and new. 
 ■^ Good pennyworths, — but money cannot move : 
 I keep a fair but for the Fair to view, — 
 
 A beggar may be liberal of love. 
 Though all my wares be trash, the heart is true, 
 The heart is true. 
 
 Great gifts are guiles and look for gifts again; 
 My trifles come as treasures from my mind : 
 It is a precious jewel to be plain; 
 
 Sometimes in shell the orient'st pearls we find ; — 
 Of others take a sheaf, of me a grain ! 
 
 Of me a grain! 
 420 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Within this pack pins, points, laces, and gloves, 
 
 And divers toys fitting a country fair. 
 But my heart, wherein duty serves and loves, 
 
 Turtles and twins, court's brood, a heavenly pair — 
 Happy the heart that thinks of no removes ! 
 
 Of no removes ! 
 
 Anon, 
 
 ^i8. Come Buy, Come Buy 
 
 T AWN as white as driven snow; 
 -■— ' Cypress black as e'er was crow; 
 Gloves as sweet as damask roses; 
 Masks for faces, and for noses; 
 Bugle-bracelet, necklace-amber, 
 Perfume for a lady's chamber: 
 Golden quoifs and stomachers. 
 For my lads to give their dears; 
 Pins and poking-sticks of steel. 
 What maids lack from head to heel : 
 
 Come buy of me, come; come buy, come buy; 
 
 Buy, lads, or else your lasses cry: 
 
 Come buy. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 4ig. Come to the Pedlar 
 
 "\1[ TILL you buy any tape, 
 * * Or lace for your cape. 
 My dainty duck, my dear-a ? 
 Any silk, any thread. 
 Any toys for your head. 
 Of the new' St and finest, finest wear-a ? 
 
 42 J 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Come to the pedlar; 
 Money's a meddler, 
 That doth utter all men's ware-a. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 420. Phoebus, Farewell! 
 
 TZ)HCEBUS, farewell! a sweeter Saint I serve: 
 
 The high conceits thy heavenly wisdoms breed, 
 My thoughts forget, my thoughts which never swerve 
 From her in whom is sown their freedom's seed, 
 And in whose eyes my daily doom I read. 
 
 Phoebus, farewell ! a sweeter Saint I serve : 
 Thou art far off, thy kingdom is above; 
 She heaven on earth with beauties doth preserve; 
 Thy beams I like, but her clear rays I love; 
 Thy force I fear, her force I still do prove. 
 
 Phcebus, yield up thy title in my mind 
 She doth possess : thy image is defaced ; 
 But, if thy rage some brave revenge will find 
 On her who hath in me thy temple raced. 
 Employ thy might that she my fires may taste; 
 And, how much more her worth surmounteth thee, 
 Make her as much more base by loving me. 
 
 Sir P. Sidney 
 
 421. Constancy 
 
 /^ NEVER say that I was false of heart, 
 ^-^ Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify! 
 As easy might I from myself depart. 
 As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie: 
 422 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 That is the home of love; if I have ranged, 
 Like him that travels I return again, 
 Just to the time, not v^ith the time exchanged. 
 So that myself bring water for my stain. 
 Never believe, though in my nature reign'd 
 All frailties that besiege all kinds of blood, 
 That it could so prepost'rously be stain'd, 
 To leave for nothing all thy sum of good : 
 For nothing this wide universe I call. 
 Save thou, my Rose; in it thou art my all. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 422. Absence, 
 
 TT^ROM you have I been absent in the spring, 
 -*- When proud-pied April, dress'd in all his trim, 
 Hath put a spirit of youth in everything. 
 That heavy Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him. 
 Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell 
 Of different flowers in odour and in hue, 
 Could make me any summer's story tell, 
 Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew; 
 Nor did I wonder at the Lily's white, 
 Nor praise the deep vermilion in the Rose; 
 They were but sweet, but figures of delight, 
 Drawn after you, you pattern of all those. 
 Yet seem'd it Winter still, and, you away, 
 As with your shadow I with these did play. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 423 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 42^, How Like a Winter Hath My 
 Absence Been 
 
 TTOW like a Winter hath my absence been 
 ^ ^ From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year ! 
 What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen, 
 What old December's bareness everywhere! 
 And yet this time removed was summer's time; 
 The teeming Autumn, big with rich increase. 
 Bearing the wanton burden of the prime 
 Like widow'd wombs after their Lord's decease: 
 Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me 
 But hope of orphans and unfather'd fruit; 
 For Summer and his pleasures wait on thee, 
 And, thou away, the very birds are mute: 
 Or if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer 
 That leaves look pale, dreading the Winter's near. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 424. Ode 
 
 That Time and Absence proves 
 Rather helps than hurts to loves 
 
 A BSENCE, hear thou my protestation 
 '^ ^ Against thy strength, 
 Distance and length : 
 Do what thou canst for alteration, 
 For hearts of truest mettle 
 Absence doth join and Time doth settle. 
 424 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Who loves a mistress of such quality. 
 
 He soon hath found 
 
 Affection's ground 
 Beyond time, place, and all mortality. 
 
 To hearts that cannot vary 
 
 Absence is present. Time doth tarry. 
 
 My senses want their outward motion 
 
 Which now within 
 
 Reason doth win. 
 Redoubled in her secret notion: 
 
 Like rich that take pleasure 
 
 In hiding more than handling treasure. 
 
 By Absence this good means I gain, 
 That I can catch her 
 Where none doth watch her, 
 
 In some close corner of my brain: 
 
 There I embrace and kiss her. 
 And so I both enjoy and miss her. 
 
 J. Donne 
 
 425. Be Your Words Made, Good Sir, of 
 Indian Ware 
 
 OE your words made, good. Sir, of Indian ware, 
 ^-^ That you allow me them by so small rate? 
 Or do you cutted Spartans imitate ? 
 Or do you mean my tender ears to spare 
 That to my questions you so total are ? 
 When I demand of Phoenix Stella's state, 
 You say, forsooth, you left her well of late: 
 O God, think you that satisfies my care .? 
 
 425 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 I would know whether she did sit or walk; 
 How clothed; how waited on; sighed she or smiled; 
 Whereof, with whom, how often did she talk; 
 With what pastime time's journey she beguiled; 
 If her lips deigned to sweeten my poor name: 
 Say all; and, all well said, still say the same. 
 
 Sir P. Sidney 
 
 426. To Lucasta, Going to the Wars 
 
 '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. 
 
 R. Lovelace 
 
 42/. Love and Debt 
 
 'T'HIS one request I make to Him 
 
 That sits the clouds above: 
 That I were freely out of debt, 
 As I am out of love. 
 426 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Then for to dance, to drink, and sing, 
 
 I should be very willing; 
 I should not owe one lass a kiss 
 
 Nor ne'er knave a shilling. 
 
 Tis only being in love, or debt, 
 
 That breaks us of our rest, 
 And he that is quite out of both 
 
 Of all the world is blest. 
 
 He sees the golden age, wherein 
 All things were free and common; 
 
 He eats, he drinks, he takes his rest — 
 And fears nor man nor woman. 
 
 Sir J. Suckling 
 
 428. Jealousy 
 
 A SEEING friend, yet enemy to rest; 
 "^ ^ A wrangling passion, yet a gladsome thought; 
 A bad companion, yet a welcome guest; 
 A knowledge wished, yet found too soon unsought : 
 
 From heaven supposed, yet sure condemned to hell 
 Is jealousy, and there forlorn doth dwell. 
 
 And thence doth send fond fear and false suspect 
 
 To haunt our thoughts, bewitched with mistrust; 
 
 Which breeds in us the issue and effect 
 
 Both of conceits and actions far unjust; 
 
 The grief, the shame, the smart whereof doth prove 
 That jealousy's both death and hell to love. 
 
 427. 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 For what but hell moves in the jealous heart, 
 Where restless fear works out all wanton joys, 
 Which doth both quench and kill the loving part, 
 And cloys the mind with worse than known annoys, 
 
 Whose pressure far exceeds hell's deep extremes ? 
 
 Such life leads Love, entangled with misdeems. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 42 g. The Wanton Shepherdess 
 
 /^"^OME, shepherds, come ! 
 ^^ Come away 
 
 Without delay. 
 Whilst the gentle time doth stay. 
 
 Green woods are dumb, 
 And will never tell to any 
 Those dear kisses, and those many 
 Sweet embraces, that are given; 
 Dainty pleasures, that would even 
 Raise in coldest age a fire. 
 And give virgin-blood desire. 
 
 Then, if ever, 
 
 Now or never, 
 
 Come and have it: 
 Think not I 
 Dare deny. 
 
 If you crave it. 
 
 7. Fletcher 
 
 428 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 430, A Woman Will Have Her Will 
 
 Question 
 "^ELL me, what is that only thing 
 
 T^E 
 
 For which all women long; 
 Yet, having what they most desire, 
 To have it does them wrong ? 
 
 'Tis not to be chaste, nor fair, — 
 
 Such gifts malice may impair — 
 
 Richly trimmed, to walk and ride. 
 
 Or to wanton unespied; 
 
 To preserve an honest name, 
 
 And so to give it up to fame; 
 
 These are toys. In good or ill 
 
 They desire to have their will; 
 
 Yet, when they have it, they abuse it, 
 
 For they know not how to use it. 
 
 J. Fletcher 
 
 431, Three Poor Mariners 
 
 "Xyl 7"E be three poor mariners, 
 
 ^ ^ Newly come from the seas ; 
 We spend our lives in jeopardy. 
 
 While others live at ease. 
 Shall we go dance the round, the round, 
 
 Shall we go dance the round .? 
 And he that is a bully boy 
 
 Come pledge me on this ground. 
 
 429 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 We care not for those martial men 
 
 That do our states disdain; 
 But we care for the merchant men 
 
 Who do our states maintain : 
 To them we dance this round, aicunu, 
 
 To them we dance this round; 
 And he that is a bully boy 
 
 Come pledge me on this ground. 
 
 T. Ravenscroft 
 
 432. To the Virginian Voyage 
 
 X/OU brave heroic minds 
 
 Worthy your country's name, 
 That honour still pursue; 
 Go and subdue ! 
 Whilst loitering hinds 
 
 Lurk here at home with shame: 
 
 Britons, you stay too long: 
 Quickly aboard bestow you, 
 And with a merry gale 
 Swell your stretch'd sail 
 With vows as strong 
 
 As the winds that blow you. 
 
 Your course securely steer, 
 
 West and by south forth keep! 
 Rocks, lee-shores, nor shoals 
 When Eolus scowls 
 You need not fear; 
 So absolute the deep. 
 430 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 And cheerfully at sea 
 Success you still entice 
 
 To get the pearl and gold, 
 And ours to hold 
 Firgintdy 
 Earth's only paradise. 
 
 Where nature hath in store 
 Fowl, venison, and fish. 
 And the fruitfull'st soil 
 Without your toil 
 Three harvests more. 
 
 All greater than your wish. 
 
 And the ambitious vine 
 
 Crowns with his purple mass 
 The cedar reaching high 
 To kiss the sky, 
 The cypress, pine. 
 And useful sassafras. 
 
 To whom the Golden Age 
 Still nature's laws doth give, 
 No other cares attend. 
 But them to defend 
 From winter's rage. 
 That long there doth not live. 
 
 When as the luscious smell 
 Of that delicious land 
 
 431 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Above the seas that flows 
 The c-ear wind throws, 
 Your hearts to swell 
 
 Approaching the dear strand; 
 
 In kenning of the shore 
 
 (Thanks to God first given) 
 O you the happiest men, 
 Be froHc then ! 
 Let cannons roar, 
 
 Frighting the wide heaven. 
 
 And in regions far, 
 
 Such heroes bring ye forth 
 
 As those from whom we came; 
 And plant our name 
 Under that star 
 
 Not known unto our North. 
 
 And as there plenty grows 
 Of laurel everywhere — 
 Apollo's sacred tree — 
 You it may see 
 A poet's brows 
 
 To crown, that may sing there. 
 
 Thy Voyages attend. 
 Industrious Hakluyt, 
 Whose reading shall inflame 
 Men to seek fame, 
 And much commend 
 To after times thy wit. 
 
 M. Drayton 
 
 432 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 ij.33. For Soldiers 
 
 'V/E buds of Brutus' land, courageous youths, now play 
 
 -*- your parts; 
 Unto your tackle stand, abide the brunt with valiant hearts. 
 For news is carried to and fro, that we must forth to warfare 
 
 go: ^ 
 
 Men muster now in every place, and soldiers are prest forth 
 
 apace. 
 Faint not, spend blood, to do your Queen and country 
 
 good; 
 Fair words, good pay, will make men cast all care away. 
 
 The time of war is come, prepare your corslet, spear and 
 
 shield; 
 Methinks I hear the drum strike doleful marches to the 
 
 field; 
 Tantara, tantara, ye trumpets sound, which makes our 
 
 hearts with joy abound. 
 The roaring guns are heard afar, and everything de- 
 
 nounceth war. 
 Serve God; stand stout; bold courage brings this gear 
 
 about; 
 Fear not; forth run; faint heart fair lady never won.' 
 
 Ye curious carpet-knights, that spend the time in sport 
 
 and play; 
 Abroad and see new sights, your country's cause calls you 
 
 away; 
 Do not to make your ladies' game, bring blemish to your 
 
 worthy name. 
 
 433 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Away to field and win renown, with courage beat your 
 
 enemies down. 
 Stout hearts gain praise, when dastards sail in Slander's 
 
 seas : 
 Hap what hap shall, we sure shall die but once for all. 
 
 Alarm methinks they cry, Be packing, mates; begone with 
 
 speed ; 
 Our foes are very nigh; shame have that man that shrinks 
 
 at need ! 
 Unto it boldly let us stand, God will give Right the upper 
 
 hand. 
 Our cause is good, we need not doubt, in sign of courage 
 
 give a shout. 
 March forth, be strong, good hap will come ere it be long. 
 Shrink not, fight well, for lusty lads must bear the bell. 
 
 All you that will shun evil, must dwell in warfare every day; 
 The world, the flesh, and devil, always do seek our soul's 
 
 decay. 
 Strive with these foes with all your might, so shall you fight 
 
 a worthy fight. 
 That conquest doth deserve most praise, where vice do 
 
 yield to virtue's ways. 
 Beat down foul sin, a worthy crown then shall ye win; 
 If ye live well, in heaven with Christ our souls shall dwell. 
 
 H. Gtjford 
 
 434, Agincourt 
 
 "PAIR stood the wind for France 
 ^ When we our sails advance, 
 Nor now to prove our chance 
 434 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Longer will tarry; 
 But putting to the main, 
 At Caux, the mouth of Seine, 
 With all his martial train, 
 
 Landed King Harry. 
 
 And taking many a fort, 
 Furnish'd in warlike sort. 
 Coming toward Agincourt 
 
 In happy hour, 
 Skirmishing day by day 
 With those that stopp'd his way, 
 Where the French gen'ral lay 
 
 With all his power: 
 
 Which, in his height of pride, 
 King Henry to deride, 
 His ransom to provide 
 
 Unto him sending; 
 Which he neglects the while. 
 As from a nation vile, 
 Yet with an angry smile. 
 
 Their fall portending; 
 
 And turning to his men, 
 Quoth our brave Henry then, 
 * Though they to one be ten, 
 
 Be not amazed : 
 Yet have we well begun; 
 Battles so bravely won 
 Have ever to the sun 
 
 By fame been raised. 
 
 435 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 ' And for myself (quoth he) 
 This my full rest shall be: 
 England ne'er mourn for me 
 
 Nor more esteem me: 
 Victor I will remain 
 Or on this earth lie slain. 
 Never shall she sustain 
 
 Loss to redeem me. 
 
 * Poitiers and Cressy tell, 
 
 When most their pride did swell, 
 
 Under our swords they fell : 
 
 No less our skill is 
 Than when our grandsire great, 
 Claiming the regal seat, 
 By many a warlike feat 
 
 Lopp'd the French lilies/ 
 
 The Duke of York so dread 
 The eager vaward led; 
 With the main Henry sped 
 
 Among his henchmen. 
 Excester had the rear, 
 A braver man not there; 
 O Lord, how hot they were 
 
 On the false Frenchmen! 
 
 They now to fight are gone, 
 Armour on armour shone. 
 Drum unto drum did groan, 
 To hear was wonder; 
 
 436 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 That with the cries they make 
 The very earth did shake; 
 Trumpet to trumpet spake, 
 Thunder to thunder. 
 
 Well it thine age became, 
 O noble Erpingham, 
 Which didst the signal aim 
 
 To our hid forces ! 
 When from a meadow by. 
 Like a storm suddenly 
 The English archery 
 
 Stuck the French horses. 
 
 With Spanish yew so strong, 
 Arrows a cloth-yard long, 
 That like to serpents stong. 
 
 Piercing the weather; 
 None from his fellow starts. 
 But playing manly parts. 
 And like true English hearts 
 
 Stuck close together. 
 
 When down their bows they threw. 
 And forth their bilboes drew. 
 And on the French they flew, 
 
 No man was tardy; 
 Arms were from shoulders sent. 
 Scalps to the teeth were rent, 
 Down the French peasants went — 
 
 Our men were hardy. 
 
 437 
 
438 
 
 THE BOOK OF 
 
 This while our noble king, 
 His broadsword brandishing, 
 Down the French host did ding. 
 
 As to o'erwhelm it; 
 And many a deep wound lent, 
 His arms with blood besprent, 
 And many a cruel dent 
 
 Bruised his helmet. 
 
 Gloster, that duke so good. 
 Next of the royal blood, 
 For famous England stood. 
 
 With his brave brother; 
 Clarence, in steel most bright. 
 Though but a maiden knight. 
 Yet in that furious fight 
 
 Scarce such another. 
 
 Warwick in blood did wade, 
 Oxford the foe invade. 
 And cruel slaughter made 
 
 Still as they ran up; 
 Suffolk his axe did ply, 
 Beaumont and Willoughby 
 Bare them right doughtily, 
 
 Ferrers and Fanhope. 
 
 Upon Saint Crispin's Day 
 Fought was this noble fray, 
 Which fame did not delay 
 To England to carry. 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 O when shall English men 
 With such acts fill a pen ? 
 Or England breed again 
 
 Such a King Harry ? 
 
 M. Drayton 
 
 </J5. A Farewell to Arms 
 
 [To Queen Elizabeth] 
 
 TTIS golden locks Time hath to silver turn'd; 
 
 ^ O Time too swift, O swiftness never ceasing ! 
 His youth 'gainst time and age hath ever spurn'd, 
 
 But spurn'd in vain; youth waneth by increasing: 
 Beauty, strength, youth, are flowers but fading seen; 
 Duty, faith, love, are roots, and ever green. 
 
 His helmet now shall make a hive for bees; 
 
 And, lovers' sonnets turn'd to holy psalms, 
 A man-at-arms must now serve on his knees. 
 
 And feed on prayers, which are Age his alms : 
 But though from court to cottage he depart. 
 His Saint is sure of his unspotted heart. 
 
 And when he saddest sits in homely cell, 
 
 He'll teach his swains this carol for a song, — 
 ' Blest be the hearts that wish my sovereign well, 
 
 Curst be the souls that think her any wrong.' 
 Goddess, allow this aged man his right 
 To be your beadsman now that was your knight. 
 
 G. Peele 
 439 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 4S(>- The Soldier Going to the Field 
 
 PRESERVE thy sighs, unthrifty girl! 
 
 To purify the air; 
 Thy tears to thread, instead of pearl, 
 On bracelets of thy hair. 
 
 The trumpet makes the echo hoarse, 
 And wakes the louder drum. 
 
 Expense of grief gains no remorse, 
 When sorrow should be dumb. 
 
 For I must go where lazy peace 
 
 Will hide her drowsy head; 
 And, for the sport of kings, increase 
 
 The number of the dead. 
 
 But first I'll chide thy cruel theft ; 
 
 Can I in war delight, 
 Who, being of my heart bereft 
 
 Can have no heart to fight 1 
 
 Thou knowest the sacred laws of old. 
 
 Ordained a thief should pay. 
 To quit him of his theft, sevenfold 
 
 What he had stolen away. 
 
 Thy payment shall but double be; 
 
 O then with speed resign 
 
 My own seduced heart to me. 
 
 Accompanied with thine. 
 
 Sir W. Davenant 
 440 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 ^j/. The Fairy Life 
 
 r\VER hill, over dale, 
 ^-^ Thorough bush, thorough brier. 
 Over park, over pale, 
 Thorough flood, thorough fire, 
 I do wander everywhere, 
 Swifter than the moone's sphere; 
 And I serve the fairy queen. 
 To dew her orbs upon the green : 
 The cowslips tall her pensioners be; 
 In their gold coats spots you see; 
 Those be rubies, fairy favours, 
 In those freckles live their savours: 
 I must go seek some dew-drops here, 
 And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear. 
 
 fF. Shakespeare 
 
 4j8. Charms 
 
 ' I ^HRICE toss these oaken ashes in the air, 
 ^ Thrice sit thou mute in this enchanted chair, 
 Then thrice-three times tie up this true love's knot. 
 And murmur soft, " She will or she will not." 
 
 Go, burn these poisonous weeds in yon blue fire, 
 These screech-owl's feathers and this prickling briar, 
 This cypress gathered at a dead man's grave, 
 That all my fears and cares an end may have. 
 
 441 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Then come, you Fairies ! dance with me a round 
 Melt her hard heart with your melodious sound ! 
 In vain are all the charms I can devise: 
 She hath an art to break them with her eyes. 
 
 T. Camp 
 
 ampton 
 
 S' 
 
 43 g. The Charm 
 
 ^ON of Erebus and Night, 
 
 Hie away; and aim thy flight, 
 Where consort none other fowl 
 Than the bat and sullen owl; 
 Where upon the limber grass 
 Poppy and mandragoras 
 With like simples not a few 
 Hang for ever drops of dew. 
 Where flows Lethe without coil 
 Softly like a stream of oil. 
 Hie thee thither, gentle Sleep : 
 With this Greek no longer keep. 
 Thrice I charge thee by my wand, 
 Thrice with moly from my hand 
 Do I touch Ulysses' eyes. 
 And with the jaspis: then arise 
 Sagest Greek. . . . 
 
 W. Browne 
 
 Cuckoo 
 
 "\^7'HEN daisies pied and violets blue, 
 And lady-smocks all silver-white. 
 And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue 
 
 Do paint the meadows with delight, 
 
 442 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 The cuckoo then, on every tree, 
 
 Mocks married men; and thus sings he. 
 
 Cuckoo ! 
 Cuckoo, cuckoo ! — O word of fear, 
 Unpleasing to a married ear ! 
 
 When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, 
 And merry larks are ploughmen'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 ! — O word of fear, 
 
 Unpleasing to a married ear! 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 ^41. The Ousel-Cock^ So Black 0} Hue 
 
 nPHE ousel-cock, so black of hue, 
 -^ With orange-tawny bill. 
 The throstle with his note so true, 
 
 The wren with little quill; 
 The finch, the sparrow, and the lark, 
 
 The plain-song cuckoo gray. 
 Whose note full many a man doth mark, 
 And dares not answer nay. 
 
 fF. Shakespeare 
 
 443 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 442. You Spotted Snakes 
 
 '\TO\] spotted snakes, with double tongue, 
 
 -'■ Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen; 
 Newts and bhnd-worms, do no wrong; 
 Come not near our fairy queen. 
 
 Philomel, with melody 
 Sing in our sweet lullaby; 
 Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby: 
 
 Never harm, 
 
 Nor spell nor charm, 
 Come our lovely lady nigh; 
 So, good night, with lullaby. 
 
 Weaving spiders, come not here; 
 
 Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence ! 
 Beetles black, approach not near; 
 
 Worm, nor snail, do no offence. 
 
 Philomel, with melody 
 Sing in our sweet lullaby; 
 Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby: 
 Never harm. 
 Nor spell nor charm. 
 Come our lovely lady nigh; 
 So, good night, with lullaby. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 443. The Holy Well 
 
 TJ^ROM thy forehead thus I take 
 
 -■■ These herbs, and charge thee not awake 
 
 Till in yonder holy well 
 
 Thrice, with powerful magic spell, 
 
 Filled with many a baleful word, 
 
 Thou hast been dipped. Thus, with my cord 
 
 Of blasted hemp, by moonlight twined, 
 
 I do thy sleepy body bind. 
 
 I turn thy head unto the east. 
 
 And thy feet unto the west. 
 
 Thy left arm to the south put forth, 
 
 And thy right unto the north. 
 
 I take thy body from the ground, 
 
 In this deep and deadly swound. 
 
 And into this holy spring 
 
 I let thee slide down by my string. 
 
 Take this maid, thou holy pit, 
 
 To thy bottom; nearer yet; 
 
 In thy water pure and sweet. 
 
 By thy leave I dip her feet; 
 
 Thus I let her lower yet. 
 
 That her ankles may be wet; 
 
 Yet down lower, let her knee 
 
 In thy waters washed be. 
 
 There stop. Fly away. 
 
 Everything that loves the day! 
 
 Truth, that hath but one face. 
 
 Thus I charm thee from this place. 
 
 Snakes that cast your coats for new, 
 
 Chameleons that alter hue, 
 
 44 S 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Hares that yearly sexes change, 
 Proteus altering oft and strange, 
 Hecate with shapes three, 
 Let this maiden changed be. 
 With this holy water wet, 
 To the shape of Amoret! 
 Cynthia, work thou with my charm! 
 Thus I draw thee free from harm, 
 Up out of this blessed lake: 
 Rise both like her and awake! 
 
 J, Fletcher 
 
 444. Nymphidia 
 
 The Court of Fairy 
 
 t~\LD Chaucer doth of Topas tell, 
 ^-^ Mad Rabelais of Pantagruel, 
 A later third of Dowsabel, 
 
 With such poor trifles playing; 
 Others the like have laboured at, 
 Some of this thing, and some of that, 
 And many of they knew not what. 
 
 But what they must be saying. 
 
 Another sort there be, that will 
 Be talking of the Fairies still. 
 For never can they have their fill. 
 
 As they were wedded to them; 
 No tales of them their thirst can slake. 
 So much delight therein they take. 
 And some strange thing they fain would make 
 
 Knew they the way to do them. 
 446 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Then since no Muse hath been so bold, 
 Or of the later, or the old, 
 Those elvish secrets to unfold, 
 
 Which lie from others' reading, 
 My active Muse to light shall bring 
 The Court of that proud Fairy King, 
 And tell there of the revelling: 
 
 Jove prosper my proceeding! 
 
 And thou, Nymphidia, gentle Fay, 
 Which, meeting me upon the way. 
 These secrets didst to me bev^ray, 
 
 Which now I am in telling; 
 My pretty, light, fantastic maid, 
 I here invoke thee to my aid. 
 That I may speak what thou hast said. 
 
 In numbers smoothly swelling. 
 
 This palace standeth in the air, 
 By necromancy placed there. 
 That it no tempest needs to fear. 
 
 Which way soe'er it blow it; 
 And somewhat southward toward the noon. 
 Whence lies a way up to the moon, 
 And thence the Fairy can as soon 
 
 Pass to the earth below it. 
 
 The walls of spiders* legs are made 
 Well mortised and finely laid; 
 He was the master of his trade 
 It curiously that builded; 
 
 447 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 The windows of the eyes of cats, 
 And for the roof, instead of slats. 
 Is covered with the skins of bats. 
 With moonshine that are gilded. 
 
 Hence Oberon him sport to make, 
 Their rest when weary mortals take, 
 And none but only fairies wake, 
 
 Descendeth for his pleasure; 
 And Mab, his merry Queen, by night 
 Bestrides young folks that lie upright 
 (In elder times, the mare that hight). 
 
 Which plagues them out of measure. 
 
 Hence shadows, seeming idle shapes. 
 
 Of little frisking elves and apes 
 
 To earth do make their wanton scapes. 
 
 As hope of pastime hastes them; 
 Which maids think on the hearth they see 
 When fires well-near consumed be. 
 There dancing hays by two and three. 
 
 Just as their fancy casts them. 
 
 These make our girls their sluttery rue. 
 By pinching them both black and blue, 
 And put a penny in their shoe 
 
 The house for cleanly sweeping; 
 And in their courses make that round 
 In meadows and in marshes found. 
 Of them so called the Fairy Ground, 
 
 Of which they have the keeping. 
 448 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 These when a child haps to be got 
 Which after proves an idiot 
 When folk perceive it thriveth not, 
 
 The fault therein to smother, 
 Some silly, doting, brainless calf 
 That understands things by the half, 
 Say that the Fairy left this aulfe 
 
 And took away the other. 
 
 But listen^ and I shall you tell 
 
 A chance in Fairy that befell. 
 
 Which certainly may please some well 
 
 In love and arms delighting: 
 Of Oberon that jealous grew 
 Of one of his own Fairy crew. 
 Too well, he feared, his Queen that knew, 
 
 His love but ill requiting. 
 
 Pigwiggen was this Fairy Knight, 
 
 One wondrous gracious in the sight 
 
 Of fair Queen Mab, which day and night 
 
 He amorously observed; 
 Which made King Oberon suspect 
 His service took too good effect. 
 His sauciness had often checkt. 
 
 And could have wished him sterved. 
 
 Pigwiggen gladly would commend 
 Some token to Queen Mab to send. 
 If sea or land him aught could lend 
 Were worthy of her wearing; 
 
 449 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 At length this lover doth devise 
 A bracelet made of emmets' eyes, 
 A thing he thought that she would prize, 
 No whit her state impairing. 
 
 And to the Queen a letter writes, 
 Which he most curiously indites. 
 Conjuring her by all the rites 
 
 Of love, she would be pleased 
 To meet him, her true servant, where 
 They might, without suspect or fear. 
 Themselves to one another clear 
 
 And have their poor hearts eased. 
 
 At midnight, the appointed hour: 
 
 " And for the Queen a fitting bower," 
 
 Quoth he, " is that fair cowslip flower 
 
 On Hipcut hill that bloweth : 
 In all your train there's not a fay 
 That ever went to gather may 
 But she hath made it, in her way. 
 
 The tallest there that groweth.'* 
 
 When by Tom Thumb, a Fairy Page, 
 He sent it, and doth him engage 
 By promise of a mighty wage 
 
 It secretly to carry; 
 Which done, the Queen her maids doth call, 
 And bids them to be ready all: 
 She would go see her summer hall. 
 
 She could no longer tarry. 
 450 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Her chariot ready straight is made, 
 Each thing therein is fitting laid, 
 That she by nothing might be stayed. 
 
 For nought must be her letting; 
 Four nimble gnats the horses were. 
 Their harnesses of gossamere. 
 Fly Cranion the charioteer 
 
 Upon the coach-box getting. 
 
 Her chariot of a snail's fine shell. 
 Which for the colours did excel. 
 The fair Queen Mab becoming well, 
 
 So lively was the limning; 
 The seat the soft wool of the bee, 
 The cover, gallantly to see. 
 The wing of a pied butterflee; 
 
 I trow 'twas simple trimming. 
 
 The wheels composed of crickets* bones, 
 And daintily made for the nonce. 
 For fear of rattling on the stones 
 
 With thistle-down they shod it; 
 For all her maidens much did fear 
 If Oberon had chanc'd to hear 
 That Mab his Queen should have been there, 
 
 He would not have abode it. 
 
 She mounts her chariot with a trice. 
 Nor would she stay, for no advice, 
 Until her maids that were so nice 
 To wait on her were fitted; 
 
 451 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 But ran herself away alone, 
 Which when they heard, there was not one 
 But hasted after to be gone, 
 As she had been diswitted. 
 
 Hop and Mop and Drop so clear, 
 Pip and Trip and Skip that were 
 To Mab, their sovereign, ever dear, 
 
 Her special maids of honour; 
 Fib and Tib and Pink and Pin, 
 Tick and Quick and Jill and Jin, 
 Tit and Nit and Wap and Win, 
 
 The train that wait upon hero 
 
 Upon a grasshopper they got 
 
 And, what with amble and with trot. 
 
 For hedge and ditch they spared not. 
 
 But after her they hie them; 
 A cobweb over them they throw. 
 To shield the wind if it should blow, 
 Themselves they wisely could bestow 
 
 Lest any should espy them. 
 
 But let us leave Queen Mab a while. 
 Through many a gate, o'er many a stile, 
 That now had gotten by this wile. 
 
 Her dear Pigwiggen kissing; 
 And tell how Oberon doth fare, 
 Who grew as mad as any hare 
 When he had sought each place with care 
 And found his Queen was missing. 
 452 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 So first encountering with a Wasp, 
 
 He in his arms the fly doth clasp 
 
 As though his breath he forth would grasp, 
 
 Him for Pigwiggen taking: 
 "Where is my wife, thou rogue?" quoth he; 
 "Pigwiggen, she is come to thee; 
 Restore her, or thou diest by me ! " 
 
 Whereat the poor Wasp quaking 
 
 Cries, "Oberon, great Fairy King, 
 Content thee, I am no such thing: 
 I am a Wasp, behold my sting!" 
 
 At which the Fairy started; 
 When soon away the Wasp doth go, 
 Poor wretch, was never frighted so; 
 He thought his wings were much too slow, 
 
 O'erjoyed they so were parted. 
 
 He next upon a Glow-worm light, 
 (You must suppose it now was night). 
 Which, for her hinder part was bright. 
 
 He took to be a devil, 
 And furiously doth her assail 
 For carrying fire in her tail; 
 He thrashed her rough coat with his flail; 
 
 The mad King feared no evil. 
 
 "Oh!" quoth the Glow-worm, "hold thy hand. 
 Thou puissant King of Fairy-land ! 
 Thy mighty strokes who may withstand ? 
 Hold, or of life despair I ! " 
 
 413 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Together then herself doth roll, 
 And tumbling down into a hole 
 She seemed as black as any coal; 
 Which vext away the Fairy. 
 
 From thence he ran into a hive: 
 Amongst the bees he letteth drive, 
 And down their combs begins to rive, 
 
 All likely to have spoiled, 
 Which with their wax his face besmeared. 
 And with their honey daubed his beard : 
 It would have made a man afeared 
 
 To see how he was moiled. 
 
 A new adventure him betides; 
 
 He met an Ant, which he bestrides, 
 
 And post thereon away he rides, 
 
 Which with his haste doth stumble, 
 And came full over on her snout, 
 Her heels so threw the dirt about, 
 For she by no means could get out, 
 
 But over him doth tumble. 
 
 And being in this piteous case, 
 And all be-slurred head and face, 
 On runs he in this wild-goose chase. 
 
 As here and there he rambles; 
 Half blind, against a molehole hit, 
 And for a mountain taking it, 
 For all he was out of his wit 
 
 Yet to the top he scrambles. 
 454 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 And being gotten to the top, 
 
 Yet there himself he could not stop. 
 
 But down on the other side doth chop, 
 
 And to the foot came rumbhng; 
 So that the grubs, therein that bred, 
 Hearing such turmoil overhead. 
 Thought surely they had all been dead; 
 
 So fearful was the jumbling. 
 
 And falling down into a lake. 
 Which him up to the neck doth take, 
 His fury somewhat it doth slake; 
 
 He calleth for a ferry; 
 Where you may some recovery note; 
 What was his club he made his boat, 
 And in his oaken cup doth float. 
 
 As safe as in a wherry. 
 
 Men talk of the adventures strange 
 Of Don Quishott, and of their change 
 Through which he armed oft did range. 
 
 Of Sancho Pancha's travel; 
 But should a man tell everything 
 Done by this frantic Fairy King, 
 And them in lofty numbers sing. 
 
 It well his wits might gravel. 
 
 Scarce set on shore, but therewithal 
 He meeteth Puck, which most men call 
 Hobgoblin, and on him doth fall. 
 With words from frenzy spoken : 
 
 455 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 " Ho, ho," quoth Hob, " God save thy grace ! 
 Who drest thee in this piteous case ? 
 He thus that spoiled my sovereign's face, 
 I would his neck were broken ! " 
 
 This Puck seems but a dreaming dolt. 
 Still walking like a ragged colt. 
 And oft out of a bush doth bolt, 
 
 Of purpose to deceive us; 
 And leading us makes us to stray. 
 Long winter's nights, out of the way; 
 And when we stick in mire and clay. 
 
 Hob doth with laughter leave us. 
 
 " Dear Puck," quoth he, " my wife is gonet 
 As e'er thou lov'st King Oberon, 
 Let everything but this alone. 
 
 With vengeance and pursue her; 
 Bring her to me alive or dead. 
 Or that vile thief, Pigwiggen's head. 
 That villain hath my Queen misled; 
 
 He to this folly drew her." 
 
 Quoth Puck, " My liege, I'll never lin, 
 But I will thorough thick and thin. 
 Until at length I bring her in ; 
 
 My dearest lord, ne'er doubt it." 
 Thorough brake, thorough briar. 
 Thorough muck, thorough mire. 
 Thorough water, thorough fire; 
 
 And thus goes Puck about it. 
 4S6 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 This thing Nymphidia overheard, 
 That on this mad king had a guard, 
 Not doubting of a great reward, 
 
 For first this business broaching; 
 And through the air away doth go. 
 Swift as an arrow from the bow. 
 To let her sovereign Mab to know 
 
 What peril was approaching. 
 
 The Queen bound with Love's powerful'st charm 
 
 Sate with Pigwiggen arm in arm; 
 
 Her merry maids, that thought no harm, 
 
 About the room was skipping; 
 A humble-bee, their minstrel, played 
 Upon his hautboy, every maid 
 Fit for this revel was arrayed. 
 
 The hornpipe neatly tripping. 
 
 In comes Nymphidia, and doth cry, 
 " My sovereign, for your safety fly. 
 For there is danger but too nigh; 
 
 I posted to forewarn you: 
 The King hath sent Hobgoblin out, 
 To seek you all the fields about, 
 And of your safety you may doubt, 
 
 If he but once discern you." 
 
 When, like an uproar- in a town 
 Before them everything went down; 
 Some tore a ruff, and some a gown, 
 'Gainst one another justling; 
 
 457 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 They flew about like chafF i' th' wind; 
 For haste some left their masks behind; 
 Some could not stay their gloves to find; 
 There never was such bustling. 
 
 Forth ran they, by a secret way, 
 Into a brake that near them lay; 
 Yet much they doubted there to stay, 
 
 Lest Hob should hap to find them; 
 He had a sharp and piercing sight, 
 All one to him the day and night; 
 And therefore were resolved, by flight, 
 
 To leave this place behind them. 
 
 At length one chanced to find a nut. 
 In the end of which a hole was cut, 
 Which lay upon a hazel root. 
 
 There scattered by a squirrel 
 Which out the kernel gotten had; 
 When quoth this Fay, "Dear Queen, be glad; 
 Let Oberon be ne'er so mad, 
 
 I'll set you safe from peril. 
 
 " Come all into this nut," quoth she, 
 ** Come closely in; be ruled by me; 
 Each one may here a chooser be. 
 
 For room ye need not wrastle: 
 Nor need ye be togethet heapt ; " 
 So one by one therein they crept, 
 And lying down they soundly slept, 
 
 And safe as in a castle. 
 458 
 
 I 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Nymphidia, that this while doth watch, 
 Perceived if Puck the Queen should catch 
 That he should be her over-match, 
 
 Of which she well bethought her; 
 Found it must be some powerful charm, 
 The Queen against him that must arm, 
 Or surely he would do her harm, 
 
 For throughly he had sought her. 
 
 And listening if she aught could hear, 
 That her might hinder, or might fear. 
 But finding still the coast was clear; 
 
 Nor creature had descried her; 
 Each circumstance and having scanned. 
 She came thereby to understand, 
 Puck would be with them out of hand; 
 
 When to her charms she hied her. 
 
 And first her fern-seed doth bestow, 
 
 The kernel of the mistletoe; 
 
 And here and there as Puck should go. 
 
 With terror to affright him. 
 She night-shade strews to work him ill, 
 Therewith her vervain and her dill. 
 That hindereth witches of their will. 
 
 Of purpose to despite him. 
 
 Then sprinkles she the juice of rue. 
 That groweth underneath the yew; 
 With nine drops of the midnight dew, 
 From lunary distilling: 
 
 459 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 The molewarp's brain mixed therewithal; 
 And with the same the pismire's gall: 
 For she in nothing short would fall, 
 The Fairy was so willing. 
 
 Then thrice under a briar doth creep, 
 Which at both ends are rooted deep. 
 And over it three times she leap; 
 
 Her magic much availing: 
 Then on Proserpina doth call, 
 And so upon her spell doth fall. 
 Which here to you repeat I shall, 
 
 Not in one tittle failing. 
 
 ** By the croaking of the frog. 
 By the howling of the dog, 
 By the crying of the hog, 
 
 Against the storm arising; 
 By the evening curfew bell 
 By the doleful dying knell, 
 
 let this my direful spell. 
 
 Hob, hinder my surprising! 
 
 " By the mandrake's dreadful groanSj 
 
 By the lubrican's sad moans. 
 
 By the noise of dead men's bones 
 
 In charnel-houses rattling; 
 By the hissing of the snake, 
 The rustling of the fire-drake, 
 
 1 charge thee thou this place forsake. 
 
 Nor of Queen Mab be prattling! 
 460 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 " By the whirlwind's hollow sound, 
 By the thunder's dreadful stound, 
 Yells of spirits underground, 
 
 I charge thee not to fear us; 
 By the screech-owl's dismal note, 
 By the black night-raven's throat, 
 I charge thee. Hob, to tear thy coat 
 
 With thorns, if thou come near us 1 " 
 
 Her spell thus spoke, she stept aside, 
 And in a chink herself doth hide, 
 To see thereof what would betide. 
 
 For she doth only mind him : 
 When presently she Puck espies. 
 And well she marked his gloating eyes. 
 How under every leaf he pries. 
 
 In seeking still to find them. 
 
 But once the circle got within. 
 
 The charms to work do straight begin, 
 
 And he was caught as in a gin; 
 
 For as he thus was busy, 
 A pain he in his head-piece feels. 
 Against a stubbed tree he reels. 
 And up went poor Hobgoblin's heels; 
 
 Alas ! his brain was dizzy ! 
 
 At length upon his feet he gets. 
 Hobgoblin fumes. Hobgoblin frets; 
 And as again he forwards sets. 
 
 And through the bushes scrambles, 
 
 461 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 A stump doth trip him in his pace; 
 Down comes poor Hob upon his face, 
 And lamentably tore his case, 
 
 Amongst the briars and brambles. 
 
 " A plague upon Queen Mab ! " quoth he, 
 "And all her maids where'er they be: 
 I think the devil guided me, 
 
 To seek her so provoked ! " 
 Where stumbling at a piece of wood, 
 He fell into a ditch of mud. 
 Where to the very chin he stood, 
 
 In danger to be choked. 
 
 Now worse than e'er he was before. 
 
 Poor Puck doth yell, poor Puck doth roar. 
 
 That waked Queen Mab, who doubted sore 
 
 Some treason had been wrought her: 
 Until Nymphidia told the Queen, 
 What she had done, what she had seen. 
 Who then had well near cracked her spleen 
 
 With very extreme laughter. 
 
 But leave we Hob to clamber out. 
 Queen Mab and all her Fairy rout, 
 And come again to have a bout 
 
 With Oberon yet madding: 
 And with Pigwiggen now distraught. 
 Who much was troubled in his thought. 
 That he so long the Queen had sought. 
 And through the fields was gadding. 
 462 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 And as he runs he still doth cry, 
 
 " King Oberon, I thee defy, 
 
 And dare thee here in arms to try. 
 
 For my dear lady's honour: 
 For that she is a Queen right good, 
 In whose defence I'll shed my blood. 
 And that thou in this jealous mood 
 
 Hast laid this slander on her." 
 
 And quickly arms him for the field, 
 A little cockle-shell his shield. 
 Which he could very bravely wield. 
 
 Yet could it not be perced : 
 His spear a bent both stiff and strong, 
 And well-near of two inches long: 
 The pile was of a horse-fly's tongue. 
 
 Whose sharpness nought reversed. 
 
 And puts him on a coat of mail. 
 
 Which was of a fish's scale. 
 
 That when his foe should him assail, 
 
 No point should be prevailing: 
 His rapier was a hornet's sting; 
 It was a very dangerous thing, 
 For if he chanced to hurt the King, 
 
 It would be long in healing. 
 
 His helmet was a beetle's head. 
 Most horrible and full of dread. 
 That able was to strike one dead, 
 Yet did it well become him; 
 
 463 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 And for a plume a horse's hair 
 Which, being tossed with the air, 
 Had force to strike his foe with fear. 
 And turn his weapon from him. 
 
 Himself he on an earwig set. 
 
 Yet scarce he on his back could get, 
 
 So oft and high he did curvet. 
 
 Ere he himself could settle : 
 He made him turn, and stop, and bound 
 To gallop and to trot the round, 
 He scarce could stand on any ground. 
 
 He was so full of mettle. 
 
 When soon he met with Tomalin, 
 One that a valiant knight had been, 
 And to King Oberon of kin; 
 
 Quoth he, *' Thou manly Fairy, 
 Tell Oberon I come prepared. 
 Then bid him stand upon his guard; 
 This hand his baseness shall reward. 
 
 Let him be ne'er so wary. 
 
 " Say to him thus, that I defy 
 His slanders and his infamy, 
 And as a mortal enemy 
 
 Do publicly proclaim him : 
 Withal that if I had mine own, 
 He should not wear the Fairy crown. 
 But with a vengeance should come down. 
 
 Nor we a King should name him." 
 464 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 This Tomalin could not abide, 
 To hear his sovereign villified; 
 But to the Fairy Court him hied, 
 
 (Full furiously he posted), 
 With everything Pigwiggen said : 
 How title to the crown he laid, 
 And in what arms he was arrayed, 
 
 As how himself he boasted. 
 
 'Twixt head and foot, from point to point, 
 He told the arming of each joint. 
 In every piece how neat and quoint, 
 
 For Tomalin could do it: 
 How fair he sat, how sure he rid, 
 As of the courser he bestrid. 
 How managed, and how well he did; 
 
 The King which listened to it. 
 
 Quoth he, " Go, Tomalin, with speed, 
 Provide me arms, provide my steed, 
 And everything that I shall need; 
 
 By thee I will be guided ; 
 To straight account call thou thy wit; 
 See there be wanting not a whit. 
 In everything see thou me fit, 
 
 Just as my foe's provided." 
 
 Soon flew this news through Fairy-land, 
 Which gave Queen Mab to understand 
 The combat that was then in hand 
 Betwixt those men so mighty : 
 
 465 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Which greatly she began to rue, 
 Perceiving that all Fairy knew 
 The first occasion from her grew 
 Of these affairs so weighty. 
 
 Wherefore attended with her maids, 
 
 Through fogs, and mists, and damps she wades, 
 
 To Proserpine the Queen of Shades, 
 
 To treat, that it would please her 
 The cause into her hands to take, 
 For ancient love and friendship's sake, 
 And soon thereof an end to make, 
 
 Which of much care would ease her. 
 
 A while there let we Mab alone, 
 And come we to King Oberon, 
 Who, armed to meet his foe, is gone. 
 
 For proud Pigwiggen crying: 
 Who sought the Fairy King as fast. 
 And had so well his journeys cast. 
 That he arrived at the last, 
 
 His puissant foe espying. 
 
 Stout Tomalin came with the King, 
 Tom Thumb doth on Pigwiggen bring. 
 That perfect were in everything 
 
 To single fights belonging: 
 And therefore they themselves engage. 
 To see them exercise their rage. 
 With fair and comely equipage. 
 
 Not one the other wronging. 
 466 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 So like in arms these champions were. 
 
 As they had been a very pair, 
 
 So that a man would almost swear 
 
 That either had been either; 
 Their furious steeds began to neigh. 
 That they were heard a mighty way; 
 Their staves upon their rests they lay; 
 
 Yet ere they flew together, 
 
 Their seconds minister an oath. 
 Which was indifferent to them both. 
 That on their knightly faith and troth 
 
 No magic them supplied; 
 And sought them that they had no charms. 
 Wherewith to work each other's harms. 
 But came with simple open arms 
 
 To have their causes tried. 
 
 Together furiously they ran, 
 
 That to the ground came horse and man, 
 
 The blood out of their helmets span, 
 
 So sharp were their encounters; 
 And though they to the earth were thrown, 
 Yet quickly they regained their own. 
 Such nimbleness was never shown. 
 
 They were two gallant mounters. 
 
 When in a second course again, 
 They forward came with might and main, 
 Yet which had better of the twain. 
 The seconds could not judge yet; 
 
 467 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Their shields were into pieces cleft, 
 Their helmets from their heads were reft, 
 And to defend them nothing left, 
 
 These champions would not budge yet. 
 
 Away from them their staves they threw. 
 Their cruel swords they quickly drew, 
 And freshly they the fight renew, 
 
 They every stroke redoubled; 
 Which made Proserpina take heed. 
 And make to them the greater speed. 
 For fear lest they too much should bleed. 
 
 Which wondrously her troubled. 
 
 When to the infernal Styx she goes. 
 And takes the fogs from thence that rose, 
 And in a bag doth them enclose, 
 
 When well she had them blended. 
 She hies her then to Lethe spring, 
 A bottle and thereof doth bring. 
 Wherewith she meant to work the thing 
 
 Which only she intended. 
 
 Now Proserpine with Mab is gone. 
 Unto the place where Oberon 
 And proud Pigwiggen, one to one, 
 
 Both to be slain were likely: 
 And there themselves they closely hide, 
 Because they would not be espied; 
 For Proserpine meant to decide 
 
 The matter very quickly. 
 468 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 And suddenly unties the poke, 
 Which out of it sent such a smoke, 
 As ready was them all to choke, 
 
 So grievous was the pother; 
 So that the knights each other lost. 
 And stood as still as any post; 
 Tom Thumb nor Tomalin could boast 
 
 Themselves of any other. 
 
 But when the mist 'gan somewhat cease; 
 
 Proserpina commandeth peace; 
 
 And that a while they should release 
 
 Each other of their peril : 
 " Which here," quoth she, " I do proclaim 
 To all in dreadful Pluto's name. 
 That as ye will eschew his blame. 
 
 You let me hear the quarrel : 
 
 "But here yourselves you must engage, 
 Somewhat to cool your spleenish rage; 
 Your grievous thirst and to assuage 
 
 That first you drink this liquor. 
 Which shall your understanding clear. 
 As plainly shall to you appear; 
 Those things from me that you shall hear, 
 
 Conceiving much the quicker." 
 
 This Lethe water, you must know, 
 The memory destroyeth so, 
 That of our weal, or of our woe. 
 Is all remembrance blotted; 
 
 469 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Of it nor can you ever think; 
 For they no sooner took this drink, 
 But nought into their brains could sink 
 Of what had them besotted. 
 
 King Oberon forgotten had 
 
 That he for jealousy ran mad, 
 
 But of his Queen was wondrous glad, 
 
 And asked how they came thither: 
 Pigwiggen likewise doth forget 
 That he Queen Mab had ever met. 
 Or that they were so hard beset. 
 
 When they were found together. 
 
 Nor neither of them both had thought 
 That e'er they each had other sought. 
 Much less that they a combat fought, 
 
 But such a dream was loathing, 
 Tom Thumb had got a little sup, 
 And Tomalin scarce kissed the cup, 
 Yet had their brains so sure locked up. 
 
 That they remembered nothing. 
 
 Queen Mab and her light maids, the while, 
 Amongst themselves do closely smile. 
 To see the King caught with this wile, 
 
 With one another jesting: 
 And to the Fairy Court they went. 
 With mickle joy and merriment, 
 Which thing was done with good intent. 
 
 And thus I left them feasting. 
 
 M. Drayton 
 470 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 S^ 
 
 ^^5. Hymn to Pan 
 
 "*ING his praises that doth keep 
 Our flocks from harm, 
 Pan, the father of our sheep; 
 
 And arm in arm 
 Tread we softly in a round. 
 Whilst the hollow neighbouring ground 
 Fills the music with her sound. 
 
 Pan, O great god Pan, to thee 
 
 Thus do we sing ! 
 Thou who keep'st us chaste and free 
 
 As the young spring: 
 Ever by thy honour spoke 
 From that place the morn is broke 
 To that place day doth unyoke! 
 
 J. Fletcher 
 
 446. Hymn to Pan 
 
 1 Nymph. Of Pan we sing, the best of singers, Pan, 
 
 That taught us swains how first to tune our 
 lays. 
 And on the pipe more airs than Phoebus can. 
 Chorus. Hear, O you groves, and hills resound his 
 praise. 
 
 2 Nymph. Of Pan we sing, the best of leaders. Pan, 
 
 That leads the Naiads and the Dryads forth ; 
 And to their dances more than Hermes can. 
 Chorus. Hear, O you groves, and hills resound his 
 worth. 
 
 471 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 3 Nymph. Of Pan we sing, the best of hunters, Pan, 
 
 That drives the hart to seek unused ways, 
 And in the chase more than Silvanus can. 
 Chorus. Hear, O you groves, and hills resound his 
 praise. 
 
 2 Nymph. Of Pan, we sing, the best of shepherds, Pan, 
 That keeps our flocks and us, and both 
 leads forth 
 To better pastures than great Pales can. 
 Chorus. Hear, O you groves, and hills resound his 
 worth. 
 And while his powers and praises thus we sing, 
 The valleys let rebound and all the rivers ringc 
 
 B. Jonson 
 
 44"/. An Ode to Himselj 
 
 "VXTHERE dost thou careless lie 
 ^ Buried in ease and sloth ? 
 
 Knowledge that sleeps, doth die 
 And this security. 
 
 It is the common moth 
 That eats on wits and arts, and that destroys 
 them both. 
 
 Are all the Aonian springs 
 
 Dried up ^ lies Thespia waste ? 
 Doth Clarius' harp want strings. 
 That not a nymph now sings; 
 
 Or droop they as disgraced. 
 To see their seats and bowers by chattering pies 
 defaced .? 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 If hence thy silence be, 
 
 As 'tis too just a cause, 
 Let this thought quicken thee: 
 Minds that are great and free 
 
 Should not on fortune pause; 
 'Tis crown enough to virtue still, her own applause. 
 
 What though the greedy fry 
 
 Be taken with false baits 
 Of worded balladry, 
 And think it poesy ? 
 
 They die with their conceits. 
 And only piteous scorn upon their folly waits. 
 
 Then take in hand thy lyre; 
 
 Strike in thy proper strain; 
 With Japhet's line aspire 
 Sol's chariot, for new fire 
 
 To give the world again : 
 Who aided him, will thee, the issue of Jove's brain. 
 
 And, since our dainty age 
 Cannot endure reproof, 
 Make not thyself a page 
 To that strumpet the stage; 
 But sing high and aloof. 
 Safe from the wolf's black jaw, and the dull ass's 
 hoof. 
 
 B. Jonson 
 
 47^ 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 44.8^ Who Grace for Zenith Had 
 
 \\7HO grace for zenith had, 
 
 From which no shadows grow, 
 Who hath seen joy of all his hopes. 
 And end of all his woe; 
 
 Whose love beloved hath been 
 The crown of his desire ; 
 Who hath seen sorrow's glories burnt 
 In sweet affection's fire; 
 
 If from this heavenly state, 
 Which souls with souls unites, 
 He be fallen down into the dark 
 Despaired war of sprites. 
 
 Let him lament with me; 
 For none doth glory know. 
 That hath not been above himself, 
 And thence fallen down to woe. 
 
 But if there be one hope 
 Left in his anguished heart. 
 If fear of worse, if wish of ease, 
 If horror may depart. 
 
 He plays with his complaints; 
 He is no mate for me, 
 Whose love is lost, whose hopes are fled, 
 Whose fears for ever be; 
 474 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Yet not those happy fears 
 Which show Desire her death, 
 Teaching with use a piece in woe. 
 And in despair a faith. 
 
 Noj no; my fears kill not, 
 But make uncured wounds, 
 Where joy and peace do issue out, 
 And only pain abounds. 
 
 Unpossible are help, 
 Reward, and hope to me; 
 Yet while unpossible they are, 
 They easy seem to be. 
 
 Most easy seems remorse, 
 Despair, and death to me; 
 Yet while they passing easy seem, 
 Unpossible they be. 
 
 So neither can I leave 
 My hopes that do deceive, 
 Nor can I trust mine own despair 
 And nothing else receive. 
 
 Thus be unhappy men 
 Blest, to be more accurst; 
 Near to the glories of the sun 
 Clouds with most horror burst. 
 
 Like ghost raised out of graves, 
 Who live not, though they go; 
 Whose walking, fear to others is. 
 And to themselves a woe; 
 
 475 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 So is my life by her 
 Whose love to me is dead, 
 On whose worth my despair yet walks 
 And my desire is fed. 
 
 I swallow down the bait 
 Which carries down my death; 
 I cannot put love from my heart 
 While life draws in my breatho 
 
 My winter is within, 
 Which withereth my joy; 
 My knowledge, seat of civil war, 
 Where friends and foes destroy; 
 
 And my desires are wheels. 
 Whereon my heart is borne. 
 With endless turning of thetnselves, 
 Still living to be torn. 
 
 My thoughts are eagle's food. 
 Ordained to be a prey 
 To wrath, and being still consumed. 
 Yet never to decay. 
 
 My memory, where once 
 My heart laid up the store 
 Of help, of joy, of spirit's wealth 
 To multiply them more. 
 
 In Paradise I once 
 Did live, and taste the tree, 
 Which shadowed was from all the worldj 
 In joy to shadow me : 
 476 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 The tree hath lost his fruit, 
 Or I have lost my seat; 
 My soul both black with shadow Is, 
 And over-burnt with heat. 
 
 Truth here for triumph serves, 
 To show her power is great, 
 Whom no desert can overcome. 
 Nor no distress entreat. 
 
 Time past lays up my joy, 
 A.id time to come my grief; 
 ohe ever must be my desire, 
 And never my relief. 
 
 Wrong, her lieutenant is; 
 My wounded thoughts are they 
 (Vho have no power to keep the field. 
 Nor will to run away. 
 
 O rueful constancy ! 
 And where is change so base, 
 4s it "may be compared with thee 
 In scorn and in disgrace? 
 
 Like as the kings forlorn, 
 Deposed from their estate, 
 Yet cannot choose but love the crown, 
 Although new kings they hate; 
 
 If they do plead their right, — 
 Nay, if they only live, — 
 Offences to the crown alike 
 Their good and ill shall give. 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 So I would I were not, 
 Because I may complain, 
 And cannot choose but love my wrongs, 
 And joy to wish in vain. 
 
 This faith condemneth me; 
 My right doth rumour move; 
 I may not know the cause I fell, 
 Nor yet without cause love. 
 
 Then, love, where is reward, — 
 At least where is the fame 
 Of them that, being, bear thy cross. 
 And, being not, thy name ? 
 
 The world's example I, 
 A fable everywhere, 
 A well from whence the springs are dried, 
 A tree that doth not bear; 
 
 I, like the bird in cage, 
 At first with cunning caught, 
 And in my bondage for delight 
 With greater cunning taught. 
 
 Now owner's humour dies; 
 I'm neither loved, nor fed, 
 Nor freed arri I, till in the cage 
 Forgotten I be dead. 
 
 The ship of Greece, the stream. 
 And she, be not the same 
 They were, although ship, stream, and she 
 Still bear their antique name. 
 
 478 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 The wood which was, is worn; 
 Those waves are run away; 
 Yet still a ship, and still a stream. 
 Still running to a sea. 
 
 She loved, and still she loves, 
 But doth not still love me; 
 To all except myself yet is 
 As she was wont to be. 
 
 O my once happy thoughts ! 
 The heaven where grace did dwell ! 
 My saint hath turned away her face; 
 And made that heaven my hell! 
 
 A hell, for so is that 
 From whence no souls return, 
 Where, while our spirits are sacrificed, 
 They waste not, though they burn. 
 
 Since then this is my state. 
 And nothing worse than this. 
 Behold the map of death-like life, 
 Exiled from lovely bliss: 
 
 Alone among the world. 
 Strange with my friends to be. 
 Showing my fall to them that scorn. 
 See not, or will not see; 
 
 My heart, a wilderness, 
 My studies only fear. 
 And, as in shadows of curst death, 
 A prospect of despair. 
 
 479 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 My exercise must be 
 My horrors to repeat; 
 My peace, joy, end, and sacrifice, 
 Her dead love to entreat; 
 
 My food, the time that was; 
 The time to come, my fast; 
 For drink, the barren thirst I feel 
 Of glories that are past; 
 
 Sighs and salt tears my bath; 
 Reason my looking-glass, 
 To show me, he most wretched is 
 That once most happy was. 
 
 Forlorn desires my clock. 
 To tell me every day 
 That Time hath stolen love, life and all 
 But my distress away. 
 
 For music, heavy sighs; 
 My walk an inward woe; 
 Which like a shadow ever shall 
 Before my body go. 
 
 And I myself am he 
 That doth with none compare, 
 Except in woes and lack of worth 
 Whose states more wretched are. 
 
 Let no man ask my name, 
 Nor what else I should be; 
 For GRIEVE-ILL, pain, forlorn estate 
 Do best decipher me. 
 
 F. GrevtUe. Lord Brooke 
 
 48b 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 44g. Song 
 
 T /"IRTUE'S branches wither, Virtue pineSc, 
 • O pity, pity, and alack the time; 
 
 Vice doth flourish, Vice in glory shines, 
 Her gilded boughs above the cedar climb. 
 
 Vice hath golden cheeks, O pity, pity, 
 
 She in every land doth monarchize; 
 Virtue is exiled from every city, 
 
 Virtue is a fool. Vice only wise. 
 
 O pity, pity, Virtue weeping dies, 
 
 Vice laughs to see her faint, alack the time. 
 
 This sinks, with painted wings the other flies : 
 Alack that best should fall, and bad should climb 
 
 O pity, pity, pity, mourn, not sing. 
 
 Vice doth flourish. Vice in glory shines, 
 
 Vice is a saint. Virtue an underling; 
 Virtue's branches wither. Virtue pines. 
 
 r. Dekker 
 
 4^0, Pari Jugo Dulcis Tr actus 
 
 COUND is the knot that Chastity hath tied, 
 "^ Sweet is the music Unity doth make. 
 Sure is the store that Plenty doth provide. 
 Part iupo dulcis tractus. 
 
 ^ ^ 481 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Where Chasteness fails there Concord will decay, 
 Where Concord fleets there Plenty will decease, 
 Where Plenty wants there Love will wear away. 
 Pan ]ugo dulcts tractus. 
 
 I, Chastity, restrain all strange desires; 
 I, Concord, keep the course of sound consent; 
 I, Plenty, spare and spend as cause requires. 
 Pan ]ugo dulcts tractus. 
 
 Make much of us, all ye that married be; 
 Speak well of us, all ye that mind to be; 
 The time may come to want and wish all three. 
 Pan ]ugo dulcis tractus. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 451. Man 
 
 T KNOW my soul hath power to know all things. 
 
 Yet she is blind and ignorant in all: 
 I know I'm one of Nature's little kings, 
 Yet to the least and vilest things am thrall. 
 I know my life's a pain and but a span; 
 I know my sense is mock'd in everything; 
 And, to conclude, I know myself a Man — 
 Which is a proud and yet a wretched thing. 
 
 iSir y. Davies 
 
 4^2. The Life of Man 
 
 T IKE to the falling of a star, 
 ^ — ' Or as the flights of eagles are. 
 Or like the fr^sh spring's gaudy hue. 
 Or silver drops of morning dew, 
 482 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Or like the wind that chafes the flood. 
 Or bubbles which on water stood; 
 Even such is Man, whose borrowed light 
 Is straight called in and paid to night. 
 
 The winds blow out; the bubble dies; 
 The spring entombed in autumn lies; 
 The dew's dryed up; the star is shot; 
 The flight is past; and man forgot. 
 
 1-53' The Pulley 
 
 ^T THEN God at first made Man, 
 
 * * Having a glass of blessings standing by — • 
 Let us (said He) pour on him all we can; 
 Let the world's riches, which dispersed lie, 
 Contract into a span. 
 
 So strength first made a way, 
 Then beauty flow'd,then wisdom, honour, pleasure; 
 When almost all was out, God made a stay, 
 Perceiving that, alone of all His treasure, 
 
 Rest in the bottom lay. 
 
 For if I should (said He) 
 Bestow this jewel also on My creature. 
 He would adore My gifts instead of Me, 
 And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature: 
 
 So both should losers be. 
 
 483 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Yet let him keep the rest, 
 But keep them with repining restlessness; 
 Let him be rich and weary, that at least, 
 If goodness lead him not, yet weariness 
 
 May toss him to My breast. 
 
 G. Herbert 
 
 ^5^. Integer Vitae 
 
 'T^HE man of life upright, 
 -*- Whose guiltless heart is free 
 From all dishonest deeds. 
 Or thought of vanity; 
 
 The man whose silent days 
 In harmless joys are spent, 
 
 Whom hopes cannot delude, 
 Nor sorrow discontent; 
 
 That man needs neither towers 
 
 Nor armour for defence, 
 Nor secret vaults to fly 
 
 From thunder's violence; 
 
 He only can behold 
 
 With un affrighted eyes 
 The horrors of the deep 
 
 And terrors of the skies. 
 
 Thus, scorning all the cares 
 
 That fate or fortune brings. 
 He makes the heaven his book. 
 His wisdom heavenly things; 
 484 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Good thoughts his only friends, 
 His wealth a well-spent age, 
 
 The earth his sober inn 
 And quiet pilgrimage. 
 
 T. Campion 
 
 455' A F^^^y 
 
 }¥ 
 
 FE that his mirth hath lost, 
 Whose comfort is dismayed, 
 Whose hope is vain, whose faith is scorned. 
 Whose trust is all betrayed. 
 
 If he have held them dear. 
 And cannot cease to moan. 
 Come, let him take his place by me; 
 He shall not rue alone. 
 
 But if the smallest sweet 
 Be mixed with all his sour; 
 If in the day, the month, the year, 
 He feel one lightening hour. 
 
 Then rest he by himself; 
 He is no mate for me. 
 Whose hope is fallen, whose succour void. 
 Whose hap his death must be. 
 
 Yet not the wished death. 
 Which hath no plaint nor *lack. 
 Which, making free the better part, 
 Is only nature's wrack. 
 
 485 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 O no! that were too well; 
 My death is of the mind, 
 Which always yields extremest painSj 
 And leaves the worst behind. 
 
 As one that lives in show, 
 But inwardly doth die. 
 Whose knowledge is a bloody field 
 Where all hope slain doth lie; 
 
 Whose heart the altar is; 
 Whose spirit, the sacrifice 
 Unto the powers, whom to appease 
 No sorrow can suffice. 
 
 My fancies are like thorns, 
 On which I go by night; 
 Mine arguments are like an host 
 Which force hath put to flight. 
 
 My sense is passion's spy; 
 My thoughts like ruins old 
 Of famous Carthage, or the town 
 Which Sinon bought and sold; 
 
 Which still before mine eyes 
 My mortal fall do lay. 
 Whom love and fortune once advanced, 
 And now hath cast away. 
 
 486 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 thoughts, no thoughts, but wounds, 
 Sometime the seat of joy. 
 
 Sometime the seat of quiet rest, 
 But now of all annoy. 
 
 1 sowed the soil of peace; 
 My bliss was in the spring; 
 
 And day by day I ate the fruit 
 
 Which my life's tree did bring. 
 
 To nettles now my corn, 
 My field is turned to flint, 
 Where, sitting in the cypress shade, 
 I read the hyacint. 
 
 The peace, the rest, the life, 
 That I enjoyed before 
 Came to my lot, that by the loss 
 My smart might sting the more. 
 
 So to unhappy men 
 The best frames to the worst; 
 O time, O place, O words, O looks. 
 Dear then, but now accurst: 
 
 In was stands my delight; 
 In is and shall, my woe; 
 My horror fastens on the yea; 
 My hope hangs on the no. 
 
 I look for no relief; 
 Relief would come too late; 
 Too late I find, I find too well. 
 Too well stood my estate. 
 
 487 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Behold such is the end; 
 What thing may there be sure ? 
 O, nothing else but plaints and moans 
 Do to the end endure. 
 
 Forsaken first was I, 
 Then utterly forgotten; 
 And be that came not to my faith, 
 Lo, my reward hath gotten. 
 
 Then, Love, where is the sauce 
 That makes thy torment sweet ? 
 Where is the cause that some have thought 
 Their death through thee but meet? 
 
 The stately chaste disdain, 
 The secret shamefastness. 
 The grace reserved, the common light 
 Which shines in worthiness. 
 
 O would it were not so. 
 Or I it might excuse ! 
 O would the wrath of jealousy 
 My judgment might abuse ! 
 
 O frail inconstant kind, 
 O safe in trust to no man I 
 No women angels be, and lo ! 
 My mistress is a woman ! 
 
 Yet hate I but the fault, 
 And not the faulty one, 
 Nor can I rid me of the bands 
 Wherein I lie alone. 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Alone I lie, whose like 
 Was never seen as yet; 
 The prince, the poor, the old, the young, 
 The fond, the full of wit. 
 
 Hers still remain must I, 
 By wrong, by death, by shame; 
 I cannot blot out of my mind 
 The love wrought in her name. 
 
 I cannot set at nought 
 That once I held so dear; 
 I cannot make it seem so far 
 That is indeed so near. 
 
 Not that I mean henceforth 
 This strange will to profess. 
 As one that would betray such troth, 
 And build on fickleness. 
 
 But it shall never fail 
 That my faith bare in hand; 
 I gave my word, my word gave me; 
 Both word and gift must stand. 
 
 Sith then it must be thus. 
 And thus is all-to ill, 
 I yield me captive to my curse. 
 My hard fate to fulfil. 
 
 The solitary woods 
 My city shall become; 
 The darkest den shall be my lodge, 
 Wherein I'll rest or roam. 
 
 489 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Of heben black my board; 
 The worms my feast shall be. 
 On which my carcass shall be fed 
 Till they do feed on me; 
 
 My wine of Niobe, 
 My bed of craggy rock, 
 The serpent's hiss my harmony, 
 The shrieking owl my clock. 
 
 My exercise nought else 
 But raging agonies; 
 My books of spiteful Fortune's foils 
 And dreary tragedies. 
 
 My walk the paths of plaint, 
 My prospect into hell, 
 Where wretched Sisyphe and his pheres 
 In endless pains do dwell. 
 
 And though I seem to use 
 The poet's feigned style. 
 To figure forth my rueful plight. 
 My fall or my exile. 
 
 Yet is my grief not feigned. 
 In which I starve and pine; 
 Who feels it most shall find it least 
 If his compare with mine. 
 
 My Muse if any ask, 
 
 Whose grievous case was such ? 
 
 DY ERE thou let his name be known; 
 His folly shows so much. 
 
 490 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 But best 'twere thee to hide, 
 And never come to light. 
 For on the earth may none but I 
 This action sound aright. 
 
 Miserum est futsse. 
 
 Sir E. Dy 
 
 456. Epode 
 
 IVrOT to know vice at all, and keep true state, 
 
 ^ ^ Is virtue, and not fate : 
 
 Next to that virtue is to know vice well. 
 
 And her black spite expel. 
 Which to effect (since no breast is so sure. 
 
 Or safe, but she'll procure 
 Some way of entrance) we must plant a guard 
 
 Of thoughts to watch and ward 
 At th' eye and ear, the ports unto the mind. 
 
 That no strange or unkind 
 Object arrive there, but the heart, our spy. 
 
 Give knowledge instantly 
 To wakeful reason, our affections' king: 
 
 Who, in th' examining, 
 Will quickly taste the treason, and commit 
 
 Close, the close cause of it. 
 'Tis the securest policy we have, 
 
 To make our sense our slave. 
 But this true course is not embraced by many: 
 
 By many ? scarce by any. 
 For either our affections do rebel. 
 
 Or else the sentinel, 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 That should ring larum to the heart, doth sleep ; 
 
 Or some great thought doth keep 
 Back the intelligence, and falsely swears 
 
 They're base and idle fears 
 Whereof the loyal conscience so complains. 
 
 Thus, by these subtle trains. 
 Do several passions invade the mind, 
 
 And strike our reason blind: 
 Of which usurping rank, some have thought love 
 
 The first, as prone to move 
 Most frequent tumults, horrors, and unrests, 
 
 In our inflamed breasts: 
 But this doth from the cloud of error grow, 
 
 Which thus we over-blow. 
 The thing they here call Love is blind Desire, 
 
 Armed with bow, shafts, and fire; 
 Inconstant, like the sea, of whence 't is born. 
 
 Rough, swelling, like a storm; 
 With whom who sails, rides on the surge of fear, 
 
 And boils as if he were 
 In a continual tempest. Now, true Love 
 
 No such effects doth prove; 
 That is an essence far more gentle, fine. 
 
 Pure, perfect, nay, divine; 
 It is a golden chain let down from heaven, 
 
 Whose links are bright and even. 
 That falls like sleep on lovers, and combines 
 
 The soft and sweetest minds 
 In equal knots : this bears no brands nor darts, 
 
 To murther different hearts, 
 But in a calm and godlike unity 
 
 Preserves community. 
 
 492 
 
 I 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 O, who is he that in this peace enjoys 
 
 Th' ehxir of all joys ? 
 A form more fresh than are the Eden bowers, 
 
 And lasting as her flowers : 
 Richer than Time, and as Time's virtue rare: 
 
 Sober, as saddest care; 
 A fixed thought, an eye untaught to glance: 
 
 Who, blest with such high chance, 
 Would, at suggestion of a steep desire. 
 
 Cast himself from the spire 
 Of all his happiness ? But, soft, I hear 
 
 Some vicious fool draw near, 
 That cries we dream, and swears there's no such thing 
 
 As this chaste love we sing. 
 Peace, Luxury, thou art like one of those 
 
 Who, being at sea, suppose. 
 Because they move, the continent doth so. 
 
 No, Vice, we let thee know. 
 Though thy wild thoughts with sparrows' wings do fly, 
 
 Turtles can chastely die. 
 And yet (in this t' express ourselves more clear) 
 
 We do not number here 
 Such spirits as are only continent 
 
 Because lust's means are spent; 
 Or those who doubt the common mouth of fame. 
 
 And for their place and name 
 Cannot so safely sin. Their chastity 
 
 Is mere necessity. 
 Nor mean we those whom vows and conscience 
 
 Have filled with abstinence: 
 Though we acknowledge, who can so abstain 
 
 Makes a most blessed gain; 
 
 493 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 He that for love of goodness hateth ill 
 
 Is more crown-worthy still 
 Than he, which for sin's penalty forbears: 
 
 His heart sins, though he fears. 
 But we propose a person like our Dove, 
 
 Grac'd with a Phoenix' love; 
 A beauty of that clear and sparkling light. 
 
 Would make a day of night. 
 And turn the blackest sorrows to bright joyss 
 
 Whose od'rous breath destroys 
 All taste of bitterness, and makes the air 
 
 As sweet as she is fair. 
 A body so harmoniously composed. 
 
 As if nature disclosed 
 All her best symmetry in that one feature ! 
 
 O, so divine a creature. 
 Who could be false to ? chiefly when he knows 
 
 How only she bestows 
 The wealthy treasure of her love on him; 
 
 Making his fortunes swim 
 In the full flood of her admired perfection .? 
 
 What savage, brute affection 
 Would not be fearful to offend a dame 
 
 Of this excelling frame ? 
 Much more a noble and right generous mind 
 
 To virtuous moods inclined. 
 That knows the weight of guilt: he will refrain 
 
 From thoughts of such a strain; 
 And to his sense object this sentence ever, 
 ' Man may securely sin, but safely never.' 
 
 B. Jonson 
 
 494 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 45T, Man's Medley 
 
 TJARK how the birds do sing, 
 
 •^ -*■ And woods do ring : 
 All creatures have their joy, and man hath his. 
 
 Yet if we rightly measure, 
 Man's joy and pleasure 
 Rather hereafter than in present is. 
 
 To this life things of sense 
 Make their pretence; 
 In th' other angels have a right by birth: 
 Man ties them both alone. 
 And makes them one 
 With th' one hand touching heaven, with t'other earth. 
 
 In soul he mounts and flies. 
 In flesh he dies; 
 He wears a stuff whose thread is coarse and round. 
 But trimmed with curious lace, 
 And should' take place 
 After the trimming, not the stuffs and grounds 
 
 Not that he may not here 
 Taste of the cheer: 
 But as birds drink and straight lift up their head, 
 So must he sip and think 
 Of better drink 
 He may attain to after he is dead. 
 
 495 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 But as his joys are double, 
 So is his trouble; 
 He hath two winters, other things but one: 
 Both frosts and thoughts do nip 
 And bite his lip; 
 And he of all things fears two deaths alone. 
 
 Yet ev'n the greatest griefs 
 May be reliefs. 
 Could he but take them right and in their ways. 
 Happy is he whose heart 
 Hath found the art 
 To turn his double pains to double praise. 
 
 G. Herbert 
 
 4S^' Scorn Not the Least 
 
 T'X THERE wards are weak and foes encount'ring strong, 
 
 ^ ^ Where mightier do assault than do defend. 
 The feebler part puts up enforced wrong. 
 
 And silent sees that speech could not amend. 
 Yet higher powers must think, though they repine, 
 When sun is set, the little stars will shine. 
 
 While pike doth range the seely trench doth fly. 
 And crouch in privy creeks with smaller fish; 
 
 Yet pikes are caught when little fish go by. 
 These fleet afloat while those do fill the dish. 
 
 There is a time even for the worm to creep. 
 
 And suck the dew while all her foes do sleep. 
 496 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 The merlin cannot ever soar on hign, 
 
 Nor greedy greyhound still pursue the chase; 
 
 The tender lark will find a time to fly. 
 And fearful hare to run a quiet race : 
 
 He that high growth on cedars did bestow, 
 
 Gave also lowly mushrumps leave to grow. . 
 
 In Aman's pomp poor Mardocheus wept, 
 
 Yet God did turn his fate upon his foe; 
 The lazar pined while Dives' feast was kept, 
 
 Yet he to heaven, to hell did Dives go. 
 We trample grass, and prize the flowers of May, 
 Yet grass is green when flowers do fade away. 
 
 R. Southwell 
 
 4S9> Self-Trial 
 
 T ET not the sluggish sleep 
 -■ — ' Close up thy waking eye. 
 Until with judgment deep 
 
 Thy daily deeds thou try: 
 He that one sin' in conscience keeps 
 
 When he to quiet goes, 
 More vent'rous is than he that sleeps 
 
 With twenty mortal foes. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 460. Amantium Irae 
 
 TN going to my naked bed as one that would have slept, 
 ■*■ I heard a wife sing to her child, that long before bad 
 wept; 
 
 497 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 She sighed sore and sang full sweet, to bring the babe to 
 
 rest, 
 That would not cease but cried still, in sucking at her 
 
 breast. 
 She was full weary of her watch, and grieved with her child, 
 She rocked it and rated it, till that on her it smiled. 
 Then did she say. Now have I found this proverb true to 
 
 prove. 
 The falling out of faithful friends renewing is of love. 
 
 Then took I paper, pen, and ink, this proverb for to write. 
 In register for to remain of such a worthy wight : 
 As she proceeded thus in song unto her little brat, 
 Much matter utter'd she of weight, in place whereas she sat: 
 And proved plain there was no beast, nor creature bearing 
 
 life, 
 Could well be known to live in love without discord and 
 
 strife : 
 Then kissed she her little babe, and sware by God above, 
 The falling out of faithful friends renewing is of love. 
 
 She said that neither king nor prince nor lord could live 
 
 aright. 
 Until their puissance they did prove, their manhood and 
 
 their might. 
 When manhood shall be matched so that fear can take no 
 
 place, 
 Then weary works make warriors each other to embrace. 
 And left their force that failed them, which did consume 
 
 the rout. 
 That might before have lived their time, their strength and 
 
 nature out: 
 498 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Then did she sing as one that thought no man could her 
 
 reprove, 
 The falling out of faithful friends renewing is of love. 
 
 She said she saw no fish nor fowl, nor beast within her 
 
 haunt, 
 That met a stranger in their kind, but could give it a taunt : 
 Since flesh might not endure, but rest must wrath succeed, 
 And force the fight to fall to play in pasture where they feed, 
 So noble nature can well end the work she hath begun. 
 And bridle well that will not cease her tragedy in some : 
 Thus in song she oft rehearsed, as did her well behove, 
 The falling out of faithful friends renewing is of love. 
 
 1 marvel much pardy (quoth she) for to behold the rout, 
 To see man, woman, boy and beast, to toss the world about: 
 Some kneel, some crouch, some beck, some check, and some 
 
 can smoothly smile, 
 And some embrace others in arm, and there think many a 
 
 wile. 
 Some stand aloof at cap and knee, some humble and some 
 
 stout. 
 Yet are they never friends in deed until they once fall out: 
 Thus ended she her song and said, before she did remove. 
 The falling out of faithful friends renewing is of love. 
 
 R. Edward es 
 
 461. O Sweet Woods 
 
 /^ SWEET woods, the delight of solitariness , 
 
 ^^ O, how much do I love your solitariness! 
 
 From fame's desire, from love's delight retired, 
 
 In these sad groves an hermit's life I led; 
 
 499 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 And those false pleasures which I once admired, 
 
 With sad remembrance of my fall, I dread. 
 To birds, to trees, to earth, impart I this, 
 For she less secret and as senseless is. 
 
 Experience, which alone repentance brings, 
 
 Doth bid me now my heart from love estrange: 
 
 Love is disdained when it doth look at kings, 
 And love low placed is base and apt to change. 
 
 Their power doth take from him his liberty, 
 
 Her want of worth makes him in cradle die. 
 
 O sweet woods, the delight of solitariness , 
 0, how much do'I love your solitariness! 
 
 Sir P. Sidney 
 
 462. Man's Civil War 
 
 FY hovering thoughts would fly to heaven 
 And quiet nestle in the sky, 
 Fain would my ship in Virtue's shore 
 Without remove at anchor lie. 
 
 M^ 
 
 But mounting thoughts are haled down 
 With heavy poise of mortal load, 
 
 And blustring storms deny my ship 
 In Virtue's haven secure abode. 
 
 When inward eye to heavenly sights 
 
 Doth draw my longing heart's desire, 
 The world with jesses of delights 
 
 Would to her perch my thoughts retire, 
 500 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Fond Fancy trains to Pleasure's lure, 
 Though Reason stiffly do repine; 
 
 Though Wisdom woo me to the saint, 
 Yet Sense would win me to the shrine. 
 
 Where Reason loathes, there Fancy loves, 
 And overrules the captive will; 
 
 Foes senses are to Virtue's lore, 
 
 They draw the wit their wish to fill. 
 
 Need craves consent of soul to sense, 
 Yet divers bents breed civil fray; 
 
 Hard hap where halves must disagree. 
 Or truce of halves the whole betray! 
 
 O cruel fight ! where fighting friend 
 With love doth kill a favouring foe. 
 
 Where peace with sense is war with God, 
 And self-delight the seed of woe ! 
 
 Dame Pleasure's drugs are steeped in sin. 
 Their sugared taste doth breed annoy; 
 
 O fickle sense ! beware her gin. 
 Sell not thy soul to brittle joy ! 
 
 R. Southwell 
 
 463. The World 
 
 HTHE world's a bubble; and the life of Man 
 ^ Less than a span: 
 
 In his conception wretched — from the womb 
 So to the tomb; 
 
 SOI 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Curst from his cradle, and brought up to years 
 
 With cares and fears. 
 Who then to frail mortality shall trust 
 But limns on water, or but writes in dust. 
 
 Yet whilst with sorrow here we live opprest, 
 
 What life is best ? 
 Courts are but only superficial schools 
 
 To dandle fools; 
 The rural part is turned into a den 
 
 Of savage men; 
 And where's a city from foul vice so free 
 But may be termed the worst of all the three ? 
 
 Domestic cares afflict the husband's bed, 
 
 Or pains his head : 
 Those that live single take it for a curse, 
 
 Or do things worse: 
 These would have children ; those that have them moan 
 
 Or wish them gone : 
 What is it then, to have, or have no wife, 
 But single thraldom, or a double strife .? 
 
 Our own affections still at home to please, 
 
 Is a disease; 
 To cross the seas to any foreign soil, 
 
 Peril and toil; 
 Wars with their noise affright us; when they cease. 
 
 We're worse in peace : 
 — What then remains, but that we still should cry 
 For being born, or, being born, to die ? 
 
 Francis, Lord Bacon 
 502 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 464. Go, Nightly Cares 
 
 /^^O, nightly cares, the enemy to rest, 
 
 ^-^ Forbear a while to vex my wearied sprite; 
 
 So long your weight hath lain upon my breast 
 
 That, lo ! I live of life bereaved quite : 
 
 O give me time to draw my wearied breath. 
 
 Or let me die as I desire the death. 
 
 Welcome, sweet Death ! O life, no life, a hell ! 
 
 Then thus and thus I bid the world farewell ! 
 
 False world, farewell, the enemy to rest, 
 Now do thy worst, I do not weigh thy spite; 
 Free from thy cares I live forever blest. 
 Enjoying peace and heavenly true delight: 
 Delight, whom woes nor sorrows shall amate, 
 Nor fears or tears disturb her happy state: 
 And thus I leave thy hopes, thy joys untrue, 
 And thus, and thus, vain world, again adieu ! 
 
 Anon. 
 
 46^. Epistle to the Countess of Cumberland 
 
 T TE that of such a height hath built his mind, 
 -*- -'■ And reared the dwelling of his thoughts so strong, 
 As neither fear nor hope can shake the frame 
 Of his resolved powers; nor all the wind 
 Of vanity or malice pierce to wrong 
 His settled peace, or to disturb the same: 
 What a fair seat hath he, from whence he may 
 The boundless wastes and wealds of man survey! 
 
 503 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 And with how free an eye doth he look down 
 
 Upon these lower regions of turmoil ! 
 
 Where all the storms of passion mainly beat 
 
 On flesh and blood: where honour, power, renown, 
 
 Are only gay afflictions, golden toil; 
 
 Where greatness stands upon as feeble feet 
 
 As frailty doth; and only great doth seem 
 
 To little minds, who do it so esteem. 
 
 He looks upon the mightiest monarch's wars 
 
 But only as on stately robberies; 
 
 Where evermore the fortune that prevails 
 
 Must be the right: the ill-succeeding mars 
 
 The fairest and the best fac'd enterprise. 
 
 Great pirate Pompey lesser pirates quails; 
 
 Justice, he sees (as if seduced) still 
 
 Conspires with power, whose cause must not be ilL 
 
 He sees the face of right t'appear as manifold 
 As are the passions of uncertain man; 
 Who puts it in all colours, all attires. 
 To serve his ends, and make his courses hold. 
 He sees, that let deceit work what it can, 
 Plot and contrive base ways to high desires^ 
 That the all-guiding Providence doth yet 
 All disappoint, and mocks the smoke of wit. 
 
 Nor is he mov'd with all the thunder cracks 
 Of tyrants' threats, or with the surly brow 
 Of Power, that proudly sits on others' crimes; 
 Charg'd with more crying sins than those he checks. 
 504 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 The storms of sad confusion, that may grow 
 Up in the present for the coming times 
 Appal not him; that hath no side at all, 
 But of himself, and knows the worst can falL 
 
 Although his heart (so near allied to Earth) 
 Cannot but pity the perplexed state 
 Of troublous and distress'd Mortality, 
 That thus make way unto the ugly birth 
 Of their own sorrows, and do still beget 
 Affliction upon imbecility: 
 
 Yet seeing thus the course of things must run, 
 He looks thereon not strange, but as fore-done. 
 
 And whilst distraught ambition compasses. 
 And is encompass'd; whilst as craft deceives. 
 And is deceiv'd : whilst man doth ransack man 
 And builds on blood, and rises by distress; 
 And th' inheritance of desolation leaves 
 To great-expecting hopes : he looks thereon. 
 As from the shore of peace, with unwet eye. 
 And bears no venture in impiety. 
 
 S. Daniel 
 
 466. Change and Fate 
 
 ^1 /"HAT if a day, or a month, or a year, 
 * * Crown thy delights with a thousand sweet con- 
 tentings ! 
 Cannot a chance of a night or an hour 
 
 Cross thy desires with as many sad tormentings ? 
 
 505 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Fortune, Honour, Beauty, Youth, are but blossoms dying, 
 Wanton Pleasure, doating Love, are but shadows flying. 
 All our joys are but toys ! idle thoughts deceiving : 
 None have power, of an hour, in their lives bereaving. 
 
 Earth's but a point to the world, and a man 
 
 Is but a point to the world's compared centre ! 
 Shall then a point of a point be so vain 
 
 As to triumph in a silly point's adventure ? 
 All is hazard that we have, there is nothing biding; 
 Days of pleasure are like streams through fair meadows 
 
 gliding. 
 Weal and woe, time doth go! time is never turning; 
 Secret fates guide our states, both in mirth and mourn- 
 ing. 
 
 T. Campion 
 
 46^. A Farewell to the Vanities of the 
 World 
 
 T^AREWELL, ye gilded follies, pleasing troubles! 
 -*- Farewell, ye honoured rags, ye glorious bubbles! 
 Fame's but a hollow echo; gold, pure clay; 
 Honour, the darling but of one short day, 
 Beauty — th' eye's idol — but a damasked skin; 
 State, but a golden prison to live in 
 And torture free-born minds; embroidered trains, 
 But pageants for proud swelling veins; 
 And blood allied to greatness, is alone 
 Inherited, not purchased, nor our own: 
 Fame, honour, beauty, state, train, blood, and birth 
 Are but the fading blossoms of the earth. 
 506 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 I would be great, but that the sun doth still 
 
 Level his rays against the rising hill; 
 
 I would be high, but see the proudest oak 
 
 Most subject to the rending thunder-stroke; 
 
 I would be rich, but see men, too unkind. 
 
 Dig in the bowels of the richest mind ; 
 
 I would be wise, but that I often see 
 
 The fox suspected whilst the ass goes free; 
 
 I would be fair, but see the fair and proud, 
 
 Like the bright sun, oft setting in a cloud; 
 
 I would be poor, but know the humble grass 
 
 Still trampled on by each unworthy ass: 
 
 Rich, hated; wise, suspected; scorned, if poor, 
 
 Great, feared; fair, tempted; high, still envied more; 
 
 I have wished all, but now I wish for neither; 
 
 Great, high, rich, wise, nor fair, poor I'll be rather. 
 
 Would the World now adopt me for her heir. 
 
 Would beauty's queen entitle me the fair. 
 
 Fame speak me Fortune's minion, could I vie 
 
 Angels with India, with a speaking eye 
 
 Command bare heads, bowed knees, strike Justice dumb 
 
 As well as blind and lame, or give a tongue 
 
 To stones by epitaphs, be called great master 
 
 In the loose rimes of every poetaster; 
 
 Could I be more than any man that lives. 
 
 Great, fair, rich, wise, all in superlatives; 
 
 Yet I more freely would these gifts resign. 
 
 Than ever Fortune would have made them mine; 
 
 And hold one minute of this holy leisure 
 
 Beyond the riches of this empty pleasure. 
 
 S07 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 46(), Care for Thyself 
 
 /''^ARE for thy soul as thing of greatest price, 
 ^^ Made to the end to taste of power divine, 
 Devoid of guilt, abhorring sin and vice. 
 
 Apt by God's grace to virtue to incline: 
 Care for it so that by thy reckless train 
 It be not brought to taste eternal pain. 
 
 Care for thy corps, but chiefly for soul's sake; 
 
 Cut oflF excess, sustaining food is best; 
 To vanquish pride, but comely clothing take; 
 
 Seek after skill, deep ignorance detest; 
 Care so (I say) the flesh to feed and clothe, 
 That thou harm not thy soul and body both. 
 
 Care for the vv^orld, to do thy body right; 
 
 Rack not thy w^it to win by wicked ways; 
 Seek not to oppress the weak by wrongful might; 
 
 To pay thy due do banish all delays : 
 Care to dispend according to thy store. 
 And in like sort be mindful of the poor. 
 
 Care for thy soul as for thy chiefest stay; 
 
 Care for thy body for the soul's avail; 
 Care for the world for body's help alway; 
 
 Care yet but so as virtue may prevail: 
 Care in such sort as thou beware of this — 
 Care keep thee not from heaven and heavenly bliss. 
 
 Anon. 
 510 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 4^0. Madrigal 
 
 W 
 
 FY thoughts hold mortal strife; 
 I do detest my life, 
 And with lamenting cries 
 Peace to my soul to bring 
 Oft call that prince which here doth monarchize. 
 
 But he grim grinning king, 
 Who caitiffs scoms, and doth the blest surprise. 
 Late having deck'd with beauty's rose his tomb. 
 Disdains to crop a weed, and will not come. 
 
 W. Drummond 
 
 ^yi. My Mind a Kingdom 
 
 1\ /TY mind to me a kingdom is; 
 -'■-'■ Such present joys therein I find, 
 That it excels all other bliss 
 
 That earth affords or grows by kind : 
 Though much I want that most would have, 
 Yet still my mind forbids to crave. 
 
 No princely pomp, no wealthy store, 
 
 No force to win the victory. 
 No wily wit to salve a sore. 
 
 No shape to feed a loving eye; 
 To none of these I yield as thrall; 
 For why ? my mind doth serve for all. 
 
 5" 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 46g. Care for Thyself 
 
 /^^ARE for thy soul as thing of greatest price, 
 ^^ Made to the end to taste of power divine, 
 Devoid of guilt, abhorring sin and vice. 
 
 Apt by God's grace to virtue to incline: 
 Care for it so that by thy reckless train 
 It be not brought to taste eternal pain. 
 
 Care for thy corps, but chiefly for soul's sake; 
 
 Cut off^ excess, sustaining food is best; 
 To vanquish pride, but comely clothing take; 
 
 Seek after skill, deep ignorance detest; 
 Care so (I say) the flesh to feed and clothe. 
 That thou harm not thy soul and body both. 
 
 Care for the world, to do thy body right; 
 
 Rack not thy wit to win by wicked ways; 
 Seek not to oppress the weak by wrongful might; 
 
 To pay thy due do banish all delays : 
 Care to dispend according to thy store. 
 And in like sort be mindful of the poor. 
 
 Care for thy soul as for thy chiefest stay; 
 
 Care for thy body for the soul's avail; 
 Care for the world for body's help alway; 
 
 Care yet but so as virtue may prevail: 
 Care in such sort as thou beware of this — 
 Care keep thee not from heaven and heavenly bliss. 
 
 Anon. 
 510 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 4^/0, Madrigal 
 
 W 
 
 FY thoughts hold mortal strife; 
 I do detest my life, 
 And with lamenting cries 
 Peace to my soul to bring 
 Oft call that prince which here doth monarchize. 
 
 But he grim grinning king, 
 Who caitiffs scorns, and doth the blest surprise, 
 Late having deck'd with beauty's rose his tomb. 
 Disdains to crop a weed, and will not come. 
 
 W. Drummond 
 
 4JI. My Mind a Kingdom 
 
 IV /TY mind to me a kingdom is; 
 ■^ -'■ Such present joys therein I find, 
 That it excels all other bliss 
 
 That earth affords or grows by kind : 
 Though much I want that most would have, 
 Yet still my mind forbids to crave. 
 
 No princely pomp, no wealthy store. 
 
 No force to win the victory, 
 No wily wit to salve a sore. 
 
 No shape to feed a loving eye; 
 To none of these I yield as thrall; 
 For why ? my mind doth serve for all. 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 I see how plenty surfeits oft, 
 
 And hasty chmbers soon do fall; 
 
 I see that those which are aloft 
 Mishap doth threaten most of all: 
 
 They get with toil, they keep with fear: 
 
 Such cares my mind could never bear. 
 
 Content I live, this is my stay; 
 
 I seek no more than may suffice; 
 I press to bear no haughty sway; 
 
 Look, what I lack my mind supplies. 
 Lo, thus I triumph like a king. 
 Content with that my mind doth bring. 
 
 Some have too much, yet still do crave; 
 
 I little have, and seek no more. 
 They are but poor, though much they have, 
 
 And I am rich with little store; 
 They poor, I rich; they beg, I give; 
 They lack, I leave; they pine, I live. 
 
 I laugh not at another's loss, 
 I grudge not at another's gain; 
 
 No worldly waves my mind can toss; 
 My state at one doth still remain: 
 
 I fear no foe, I fawn no friend; 
 
 I loathe not life, nor dread my end. 
 
 Some weigh their pleasure by their lust, 
 Their wisdom by their rage of will; 
 
 Their treasure is their only trust, 
 A cloaked craft their store of skill 
 
 But all the pleasure that I find 
 
 Is to maintain a quiet mind. 
 
 512 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 My wealth is health and perfect ease, 
 My conscience clear my chief defence; 
 
 I neither seek by bribes to please, 
 Nor by deceit to breed offence; 
 
 Thus do I live; thus will I die; 
 
 Would all did so as well as I ! 
 
 Sir E. Dyeii 
 
 4^2. The Nohle Balm 
 
 TTIGH - SPIRITED friend, 
 
 -*--■- I send nor balms nor cor'sives to your wound ; 
 
 Your fate hath found 
 A gentler and more agile hand to tend 
 The cure of that which is but corporal; 
 And doubtful days, which were named critical, 
 
 Have made their fairest flight 
 
 And now are out of sight. 
 Yet doth some wholesome physic for the mind 
 
 Wrapp'd in this paper lie. 
 Which in the taking if you misapply. 
 
 You are unkind. 
 
 Your covetous hand, 
 Happy in that fair honour it hath gain'd. 
 
 Must now be rein'd. 
 True valour doth her own renown command 
 In one full action; nor have you now more 
 To do, than be a husband of that store. 
 
 Think but how dear you bought 
 
 This fame which you have caught: 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Such thoughts will make you more in love with truth 
 
 'Tis wisdom, and that high, 
 For men to use their fortune reverently, 
 
 Even in youth. 
 
 B.J. 
 
 onson 
 
 473' Wishes }or Vin 
 
 'VXTHAT I shall leave thee none can tell, 
 
 * ^ But all shall say I wish thee well, 
 I wish thee, Vin, before all wealth, 
 Both bodily and ghostly health; 
 Nor too much wealth, nor wit, come to thee, 
 So much of either may undo thee. 
 I wish thee learning, not for show. 
 Enough for to instruct and know; 
 Not such as gentlemen require 
 To prate at table, or at fire. 
 I wish thee all thy mother's graces, 
 Thy father's fortunes and his places. 
 I wish thee friends, and one at court. 
 Not to build on, but support 
 To keep thee, not in doing many 
 Oppressions, but from suffering any. 
 I wish thee peace in all thy ways. 
 Nor lazy nor contentious days; 
 And when thy soul and body part 
 As innocent as now thou art. 
 
 R. Corbet, Bishop of Oxford and Norwich 
 
 5M 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 4J4. The Means to Attain Happy Life 
 
 A /TARTIAL, the things that do attain 
 ^^ ^ The happy life be these, I find : — 
 The riches left, not got with pain: 
 The fruitful ground, the quiet mind; 
 
 The equal friend; no grudge, no strife; 
 
 No charge of rule, nor governance; 
 Without disease, the healthful life; 
 
 The household of continuance; 
 
 The mean diet, no delicate fare; 
 
 True wisdom join'd with simpleness; 
 The night discharged of all care. 
 
 Where wine the wit may not oppress. 
 
 The faithful wife, without debate; 
 
 Such sleeps as may beguile the night: 
 Contented with thine own estate 
 
 Ne wish for death, ne fear his might. 
 
 Earl of Surrey 
 
 47 S. The Character of a Happy Life 
 
 TTOW happy is he born and taught 
 That severeth not another's will ; 
 Whose armour is his honest thought, 
 And simple truth his utmost skill ! 
 
 515 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Whose passions not his masters are; 
 Whose soul is still prepared for death, 
 Untied unto the world by care 
 Of public fame or private breath; 
 
 Who envies none that chance doth raise, 
 Nor vice; who never understood 
 How deepest wounds are given by praise; 
 Nor rules of state, but rules of good; 
 
 Who hath his life from rumours freed; 
 Whose conscience is his strong retreat; 
 Whose state can neither flatterers feed, 
 Nor ruin make oppressors great; 
 
 Who God doth late and early pray 
 More of His grace than gifts to lend; 
 And entertains the harmless day 
 With a religious book or friend; 
 
 — This man is freed from servile bands 
 Of hope to rise or fear to fall : 
 Lord of himself, though not of lands. 
 And having nothing, yet hath all. 
 
 Sir H. Wotton 
 
 4^6. Risposta 
 
 'T^HERE is a jewel which no Indian mines 
 ^ Can buy, no chymic art can counterfeit; 
 It makes men rich in greatest poverty; 
 Makes water wine, turns wooden cups to gold, 
 516 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 The homely whistle to sweet music's strain : 
 Seldom it comes, to few from heaven sent, 
 That much in little, all in naught, — Content. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 47 y. Content 
 
 OWEET are the thoughts that savour of content, 
 ^^ The quiet mind is richer than a crown, 
 Sweet are the nights in careless slumber spent, 
 
 The poor estate scorns Fortune's angry frown : 
 Such sweet content, such minds, such sleep, such bliss, 
 Beggars enjoy, when princes oft do miss. 
 
 The homely house that harbours quiet rest. 
 The cottage that affords no pride nor care, 
 
 The mean that 'grees Vvith country music best, 
 The sweet consort of mirth and modest fare. 
 
 Obscured life sets down a type of bliss : 
 
 A mind content both crown and kingdom is. 
 
 R. Greene 
 
 4y8. Sweet Content 
 
 A RT thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers .? 
 ^ ^ O sweet content ! 
 Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplex'd .? 
 
 O punishment ! 
 Dost thou laugh to see how fools are vex'd 
 To add to golden numbers golden numbers ? 
 
 O sweet content ! O sweet, O sweet content ! 
 
 S^7 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Work apace, apace, apace, apace; 
 Honest labour bears a lovely face; 
 Then hey nonny nonny — hey nonny nonny ! 
 
 Can'st drink the waters of the crisped spring ? 
 
 O sweet content ! 
 Swim'st thou in wealth, yet sink'st in thine own tears ? 
 
 O punishment! 
 Then he that patiently want's burden bears, 
 No burden bears, but is a king, a king ! 
 
 O sweet content! O sweet, O sweet content! 
 Work apace, apace, apace, apace; 
 Honest labour bears a lovely face; 
 Then hey nonny nonny — hey nonny nonny! 
 
 r. Dekker 
 
 4jg. Thrice Happy He Who by Some 
 Shady Grove 
 
 'T^HRICE happy he who by some shady grove, 
 ^ Far from the clamorous world, doth live his own; 
 Though solitary, who is not alone, 
 But doth converse with that eternal love. 
 O how more sweet is bird's harmonious moan, 
 Or the hoarse sobbings of the widowed dove. 
 Than those smooth whisperings near a prince's throne. 
 Which good make doubtful, do the evil approve ! 
 Or how more sweet is Zephyr's wholesome breath. 
 And sighs embalmed which new-born flowers unfold, 
 518 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Than that applause vain honour doth bequeath ! 
 How sweet are streams to poison drunk in gold ! 
 The world is full of horrors, troubles, slights; 
 Woods' harmless shades have only true delights. 
 
 W. Drummond 
 
 480. Ah, Sweet Content, Where Is Thy 
 Mild Abode? 
 
 \ H, sweet Content, where is thy mild abode ? 
 '^ ^ Is it with shepherds and light-hearted swains, 
 Which sing upon the downs and pipe abroad. 
 Tending their flocks and cattle on the plains ? 
 Ah, sweet Content, where dost thou safely rest ? 
 In heaven with angels which the praises sing 
 Of him that made and rules at his behest 
 The minds and hearts of every living thing ? 
 Ah, sweet Content, where doth thine harbour hold ? 
 Is it in churches with religious men 
 Which please the gods with prayers manifold. 
 And in their studies meditate it then ? 
 Whether thou dost in heaven, or earth appear. 
 Be where thou wilt, thou wilt not harbour here ! 
 
 B. Barnes 
 
 ^81. A Passion of My Lord 0} Essex 
 
 TTAPPY were he could finish forth his fate 
 -^ In some unhaunted desert, most obscure 
 
 From all society, from love and hate 
 
 Of worldly folk, there might he sleep secure; 
 
 519 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 There wake again, and give God ever praise, 
 Content with hips and haws and brambleberry, 
 
 In contemplation passing still his days. 
 
 And change of holy thoughts to make him merry. 
 
 That when he dies, his tomb might be a bush. 
 
 Where harmless robin dwells with gentle thrush. 
 
 R. DevereuXy Earl of Essex 
 
 482. Truth Doth Truth Deserve 
 
 A'X THO doth desire that chaste his wife should be, 
 
 * * First be he true, for truth doth truth deserve : 
 Then such be he as she his worth may see, 
 And one man still credit with her preserve.' 
 Not toying kind, nor causelessly unkind; 
 Not stirring thoughts, nor yet denying right; 
 Not spying faults, nor in plain errors blind; 
 Never hard hand, nor ever reins too light. 
 As far from want as far from vain expense 
 (The one doth force, the latter doth entice); 
 Allow good company, but keep from thence 
 All filthy mouths that glory in their vice. 
 This done, thou hast no more, but leave the rest 
 To virtue, fortune, time and woman's breast. 
 
 Sir P. Sidney 
 
 48 J. A Song for Priests 
 
 r\ WEARISOME condition of humanity! 
 ^-^ Born under one law, to another bound; 
 Vainly begot, and yet forbidden vanity; 
 Created sick, commanded to be sound: 
 520 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 — What meaneth Nature by these diverse laws ? 
 Passion and Reason self-division cause. 
 
 Is it the mark or majesty of power 
 
 To make offences that it may forgive ? 
 Nature herself doth her own self deflower, 
 To hate those errors she herself doth give. 
 
 But how should Man think that he may not do, 
 If Nature did not fail and punish too ? 
 
 Tyrant to others, to herself unjust. 
 
 Only commands things difficult and hard. 
 Forbids us all things which it knows we lust; 
 Makes easy pains, impossible reward. 
 If Nature did not take delight in blood, 
 She would have made more easy ways to good. 
 
 We that are bound by vows, and by promotion, 
 
 With pomp of holy sacrifice and rites, 
 To lead belief in good and 'stil devotion. 
 
 To preach of heaven's wonders and delights; 
 Yet when each of us in his own heart looks. 
 He finds the God there far unlike his books. 
 
 F. Greville, Lord Brooke 
 
 484. Coronemus nos Rosis antequam 
 marcescant 
 
 T ET us drink and be merry, dance, joke, and rejoice, 
 ■^^ With claret and sherry, theorbo and voice ! 
 The changeable world to our joy is unjust, 
 
 521 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 All treasure's uncertain, 
 
 Then down with your dust! 
 In frolics dispose your pounds, shillings, and pence. 
 For we shall be nothing a hundred years hence. 
 
 We'll sport and be free with Moll, Betty, and Dolly, 
 Have oysters and lobsters to cure melancholy: 
 Fish-dinners will make a man spring like a flea, 
 
 Dame Venus, love's lady. 
 
 Was born of the sea : 
 With her and with Bacchus we'll tickle the sense. 
 For we shall be past it a hundred years hence. 
 
 Your most beautiful bride who with garlands is crown'd 
 And kills with each glance as she treads on the ground. 
 Whose lightness and brightness doth shine in such splendour 
 That none but the stars 
 Are thought fit to attend her. 
 Though now she be pleasant and sweet to the sense. 
 Will be damnable mouldy a hundred years hence. 
 
 Then why should we turmoil in cares and in fears. 
 
 Turn all our tranquill'ty to sighs and to tears ? 
 
 Let's eat, drink, and play till the worms do corrupt us, 
 
 'Tis certain. Post mortem 
 
 Nulla voluptas. 
 For health, wealth and beauty, wit, learning and sense, 
 Must all come to nothing a hundred years hence. 
 
 T . Jordan 
 
 i;22 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 48^, Crabbed Age and Youth 
 
 /GRABBED Age and Youth 
 
 ^^ Cannot live together: 
 
 Youth is full of pleasance, 
 
 Age is full of care; 
 
 Youth like summer morn, 
 
 Age like winter weather; 
 
 Youth like summer brave, 
 
 Age like winter bare. 
 
 Youth is full of sport, 
 
 Age's breath is short; 
 
 Youth is nimble, Age is lame; 
 
 Youth is hot and bold, 
 
 Age is weak and cold; 
 
 Youth is wild and Age is tame. 
 
 Age, I do abhor thee; 
 
 Youth, I do adore thee; 
 
 O, my Love, my Love is young ! 
 
 Age, I do defy thee: 
 
 O, sweet shepherd, hie thee ! 
 
 For methinks thou stay'st too long! 
 
 W. Shakespeare (?) 
 
 486. Times Go by Turns 
 
 npHE lopped tree in time may grow again, 
 ^ Most naked plants renew both fruit and flower; 
 The sorest wight may find release of pain. 
 The driest soil suck in some moist'ning shower; 
 Times go by turns and chances change by course, 
 From foul to fair, from better hap to worse. 
 
 523 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 The sea of Fortune doth not ever flow, 
 She draws her favours to the lowest ebb; 
 Her time hath equal times to come and go, 
 Her loom doth weave the fine and coarsest web; 
 No joy so great but runneth to an end, 
 No hap so hard but may in fine amend. 
 
 Not always fall of leaf nor ever spring, 
 No endless night yet not eternal day; 
 The saddest birds a season find to sing. 
 The roughest storm a calm may soon allay: 
 Thus with succeeding turns God tempereth all, 
 That man may hope to rise, yet fear to fall. 
 
 A chance may win that by mischance was lost; 
 The net that holds no great takes little fish; 
 In some things all, in all things none are crost. 
 Few all they need, but none have all they wish; 
 Unmeddled joys here to no man befall : 
 Who least, hath some; who most, hath never all. 
 
 R. Southwell 
 
 E' 
 
 ^8/, Even Such Is Time 
 
 *VEN such is Time, that takes in trust 
 Our youth, our joys, our all we have, 
 And pays us but with earth and dust; 
 
 Who in the dark and silent grave. 
 When we have wander'd all our ways, 
 Shuts up the story of our days; 
 But from this earth, this grave, this dust, 
 My God shall raise me up, I trust. 
 
 Sir W. Raleigh 
 S24 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 488. Time 
 
 npiME is the feather'd thing, 
 ^ And, whilst I praise 
 The sparklings of thy looks and call them rays, 
 Takes wing, 
 Leaving behind him as he flies 
 An unperceived dimness in thine eyes. 
 His minutes, whilst they 're told, 
 
 Do make us old; 
 And every sand of his fleet glass, 
 Increasing age as it doth pass. 
 Insensibly sows wrinkles there 
 Where flowers and roses do appear. 
 Whilst we do speak, our fire 
 Doth into ice expire. 
 
 Flames turn to frost; 
 And ere we can 
 Know how our crow turns swan, 
 Or how a silver snow 
 Springs there where jet did grow. 
 Our fading spring is in dull winter lost. 
 
 Since then the Night hath hurl'd 
 
 Darkness, Love's shade. 
 Over its enemy the Day, and made 
 
 The world 
 Just such a blind and shapeless thing 
 As 'twas before the light did from darkness spring. 
 Let us employ its treasure 
 And make shade pleasure : 
 
 525 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Let's number out the hours by bhsses, 
 And count the minutes by our kisses; 
 
 Let the heavens new motions feel 
 And by our embraces wheel; 
 And whilst we try the way 
 By which Love doth convey 
 Soul unto soul, 
 And mingling so 
 Makes them such raptures know 
 As makes them entranced lie 
 In mutual ecstasy, 
 Let the harmonious spheres in music roll ! 
 
 J. Mayne 
 
 48g. The Merry Heart 
 
 JOG on, jog on, the footpath way, 
 And merrily hent the stile-a: 
 A merry heart goes all the day, 
 Your sad tires in a mile-a. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 4go: Old Age 
 
 'THHE seas are quiet when the winds give o'er; 
 ^ So calm are we when passions are no more. 
 For then we know how vain it was to boast 
 Of fleeting things, so certain to be lost. 
 Clouds of affection from our younger eyes 
 Conceal that emptiness which age decries. 
 
 526 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 The soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd, 
 
 Lets in new light through chinks that Time hath made; 
 
 Stronger by weakness, wiser men become 
 
 As they draw near to their eternal home. 
 
 Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view 
 
 That stand upon the threshold of the new. 
 
 E. Waller 
 
 4gi. Questions and Answers 
 
 Tp\OTH sorrow fret thy soul ? O direful sprite ! 
 "^^^ Doth pleasure feed thy heart ? O blessed man ! 
 Hast thou been happy once ? O heavy plight ! 
 Are thy mishaps forepast ? O happy than ! 
 Or hast thou bliss in eld ? O bliss too late ! 
 But hast thou bliss in youth .? O sweet estate ! 
 
 Thomas, Lord Faux 
 
 4p2. No Medicine to Mirth 
 
 "T^IS mirth that fills the veins with blood, 
 
 -■- More than wine, or sleep, or food; 
 Let each man keep his heart at ease; 
 No man dies of that disease. 
 He that would his body keep 
 From diseases, must not weep; 
 But whoever laughs and sings, 
 Never he his body brings 
 Into fevers, gouts, or rheums. 
 Or lingeringly his lungs consumes; 
 
 527 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Or meets with aches in his bone, 
 
 Or catarrhs, or griping stone : 
 
 But contented lives for aye; 
 
 The more he laughs, the more he may. 
 
 F. Beaumont 
 
 4PJ. To Be Merry 
 
 T ET'S now take our time 
 
 ^—^ While we're in our prime, 
 And old, old age, is afar off: 
 
 For the evil, evil days 
 
 Will come on apace, 
 Before we can be aware of. 
 
 R. Herrich 
 
 Virtue Triumphant 
 
 ^"X /"HO, Virtue, can thy power forget 
 
 ^ * That sees these live and triumph yet ? 
 Th' Assyrian pomp, the Persian pride, 
 Greeks' glory and the Romans' died; 
 
 And who yet imitate 
 Their noises, tarry the same fate. 
 Force greatness all the glorious ways 
 
 You can, it soon decays; 
 
 But so good fame shall never: 
 Her triumphs, as their causes, are forever. 
 
 B. yonson 
 
 528 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 4^5. A Madrigal 
 
 " I ''HE earth, late choked with showerSj 
 -*- Is now array'd 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 deckt with leaves, 
 And trees are clothed gay 
 
 And Flora, crown'd with sheaves. 
 With oaken boughs doth play: 
 
 Where I am clad in black. 
 
 The token of my wrack. 
 
 The birds upon the 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. 
 
 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. 
 
 T. Lodge 
 529 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 4(^6. Whilst Youthful Sports are Lasting 
 
 "PLUCK the fruit and taste the pleasure, 
 -*- Youthful lordings, of delight; 
 Whilst occasion gives you seizure, 
 Feed your fancies and your sight: 
 After death, when you are gone, 
 Joy and pleasure is there none. 
 
 Here on earth nothing is stable, 
 
 Fortune's changes well are known; 
 Whilst as youth doth then enable. 
 Let your seeds of joy be sown : 
 After death, when you are gone, 
 Joy and pleasure is there none. 
 
 Feast it freely with your lovers. 
 
 Blithe and wanton sports do fade, 
 Whilst that lovely Cupid hovers 
 Round about this lovely shade: 
 Sport it freely one to one. 
 After death is pleasure none. 
 
 Now the pleasant spring allureth. 
 
 And both place and time invites: 
 But, alas, what heart endureth 
 To disclaim his sweet delights ? 
 After death, when we are gone, 
 Joy and pleasure is there none. 
 
 T. Lodgi 
 530 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 4gj. Content and Resolute 
 
 A S when it happeneth that some lovely town 
 Unto a barbarous besieger falls, 
 Who there by sword and flame himself installs, 
 And, cruel, it in tears and blood doth drown; 
 Her beauty spoiled, her citizens made thralls, 
 His spite yet so can not her all throw down 
 But that some statue, arch, fane of renown 
 Yet lurks unmaimed within her weeping walls : 
 So, after all the spoil, disgrace, and wrack. 
 That time, the world, and death, could bring combined; 
 Amidst that mass of ruins they did make, 
 Safe and all scarless yet remains my mind. 
 From this so high transcending rapture springs, 
 That I, all else defaced, not envy kings. 
 
 W. Drummond 
 
 4g8. They That Have Power to Hurt and 
 Will Do None 
 
 ' I ^HEY that have power to hurt and will do none, 
 -*- That do not do the thing they most do show, 
 Who, moving others, are themselves as stone. 
 Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow. 
 They rightly do inherit heaven's graces 
 And husband Nature's riches from expense: 
 They are the lords and owners of their faces. 
 Others but stewards of their excellence. 
 
 531 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 The summer's flower is to the summer sweet, 
 
 Though to itself it only Hve and die. 
 
 But if that flower with base infection meet, 
 
 The basest weed outbraves his dignity : 
 
 For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; 
 
 Lihes that fester smell far worse than weeds. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 4gg. The Expense of Spirit in a Waste 
 oj Shame 
 
 " I ^HE expense of spirit in a waste of shame 
 -*• Is lust in action; and till action, lust 
 Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame, 
 Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust, 
 Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight. 
 Past reason hunted, and no sooner had 
 Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait 
 On purpose laid to make the taker mad; 
 Mad in pursuit and in possession so; 
 Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme; 
 A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe; 
 Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream. 
 All this the world well knows; yet none knows well 
 To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 ^00. Loss in Delay 
 
 OHUN delays, they breed remorse; 
 
 "^ Take thy time while time is lent thee; 
 
 Creeping snails have weakest force, 
 
 532 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Fly their fault, lest thou repent thee. 
 Good is best when soonest wrought, 
 Linger'd labours come to nought. 
 
 Hoist up sail while gale doth last. 
 Tide and wind stay no man's pleasure; 
 
 Seek not time when time is past. 
 Sober speed is wisdom's leisure. 
 After-wits are dearly bought, 
 Let thy fore-wit guide thy thought. 
 
 Time wears all his locks before, 
 Take thy hold upon his forehead; 
 When he flies he turns no more. 
 And behind his scalp is naked. 
 
 Works adjourn'd have many stays. 
 Long demurs breed new delays. 
 
 R. Southwell 
 
 ^01. Lines Written on a Garden Seat 
 
 TF thou sit here to view this pleasant garden place, 
 
 ^ Think thus — At last will come a frost and all these 
 
 flowers deface: 
 But if thou sit at ease to rest thy weary bones. 
 Remember death brings final rest to all our grievous groans; 
 So whether for delight, or here thou sit for ease, 
 Think still upon the latter day: so shalt thou God best 
 
 please. 
 
 G. Gascoigne 
 533 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 ^02, To Daffodils 
 
 T^AIR daffodils we v^^eep to see 
 ■*■ You haste away so soon ; 
 As yet the early-rising sun 
 Has not attain'd his noon. 
 
 Stay, stay 
 
 Until the hasting day 
 Has run 
 
 But to the evensong; 
 And, having prayed together, we 
 Will go with you along. 
 
 We have short time to stay, as you, 
 
 We have as short a spring; 
 As quick a growth to meet decay, 
 As you, or any thing. 
 We die 
 As your hours do, and dry 
 
 Away, 
 Like to the summer's rain; 
 Or as the pearls of morning's dew. 
 Ne'er to be found again. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 50 J. Vanitas Vanitatum 
 
 A LL the flowers of the spring 
 ^^^^ Meet to perfume our burying; 
 These have but their growing prime, 
 And man does flourish but his time: 
 Survey our progress from our birth — 
 We are set, we grow, we turn to earth. 
 534 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Courts adieu, and all delights, 
 
 All bewitching appetites ! 
 
 Sweetest breath and clearest eye 
 
 Like perfumes go out and die; 
 
 And consequently this is done 
 
 As shadows wait upon the sun. 
 
 Vain the ambition of kings 
 
 Who seek by trophies and dead things 
 
 To leave a living name behind, 
 
 And weave but nets to catch the wind. 
 
 J. Webster 
 
 SO 4. Whether Men Do Laugh or Weep 
 
 T^^HETHER men do laugh or weep, 
 
 * Whether they do wake or sleep, 
 Whether they die young or old, 
 Whether they feel heat or cold; 
 There is underneath the sun 
 Nothing in true earnest done. 
 
 All our pride is but a jest. 
 None are worst and none are best; 
 Grief and joy and hope and fear 
 Play their pageants everywhere : 
 Vain Opinion all doth sway, 
 And the world is but a play. 
 
 Powers above in clouds do sit, 
 Mocking our poor apish vv^it, 
 
 535 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 That so lamely with such state 
 Their high glory imitate. 
 No ill can be felt but pain, 
 And that happy men disdain. 
 
 T. Campion (?) 
 
 505. LifCj a Bubble 
 
 nPHIS Life, which seems so fair, 
 -'■Is like a bubble blown up in the air 
 By sporting children's breath. 
 Who chase it everywhere 
 And strive who can most motion it bequeath : 
 And though it sometime seem of its own might, 
 Like to an eye of gold, to be fixed there. 
 And firm to hover in that empty height; 
 That only is because it is so light. 
 But in that pomp it doth not long appear; 
 For when 'tis most admired, in a thought, 
 Because it erst was naught, it turns to naught. 
 
 fF. Drummond 
 
 506. O Fly, My Soul 
 
 f~\ FLY, my soul ! What hangs upon 
 ^"-^ Thy drooping wings. 
 
 And weighs them down 
 With love of gaudy mortal things .? 
 
 The Sun is now i* the east: each shade 
 As he doth rise 
 Is shorter made. 
 That earth may lessen to our eyes. 
 536 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 O be not careless then and play 
 
 Until the Star of Peace 
 Hide all his beams in dark recess ! 
 Poor pilgrims needs must lose their way, 
 When all the shadows do increase. 
 
 J. Shirley 
 
 507. All is Naught 
 
 T LIVE, and yet methinks I do not breathe; 
 
 I thirst and drink, I drink and thirst again; 
 I sleep and yet do dream I am awake; 
 I hope for that I have; I have and want: 
 I sing and sigh; I love and hate at once. 
 O, tell me, restless soul, what uncouth jar 
 Doth cause in store such want, in peace such war ? 
 
 Anon. 
 
 ^08. Poor Soul, the Centre of My 
 Sinful Earth 
 
 T3OOR soul, the centre of my sinful earth, 
 ^ Sport of these rebel powers that thee array, 
 Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth. 
 Painting thy outward walls so costly gay ^ 
 Why so large cost, having so short a lease, 
 Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend .? 
 Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, 
 Eat up thy charge ? is this thy body's end .? 
 Then, soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss. 
 And let that pine to aggravate thy store: 
 Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross; 
 
 537 
 
H^ 
 
 THE BOOK OF 
 
 Within be fed, without be rich no more : 
 So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men, 
 And Death once dead, there's no more dying then. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 509. Happy He 
 
 fAPPY he 
 
 Who, to sweet home retired, 
 Shuns glory so admired ; 
 And to himself lives free ! 
 Whilst he who strives, with pride, to climb the skies, 
 Falls down, with foul disgrace, before he rise ! 
 
 Let who will 
 The Active Life commend; 
 And all his travails bend 
 Earth with his fame to fill ! 
 Such fame, so forced, at last dies with his death; 
 Which life maintained by others' idle breath ! 
 
 My delights 
 To dearest home confined. 
 Shall there make good my mind ; 
 Not awed with Fortune's spites ! 
 High trees, heaven blasts! Winds shake and honours fell; 
 When lowly plants, long time in safety dwell. 
 
 All I can. 
 My worldly strife shall be. 
 They, one day, say of me, 
 * He died a good old man ! ' 
 On his sad soul a heavy burden lies. 
 Who, known to all, unknown to himself, dies ! Anon. 
 538 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 5/0. Concerning the Honour of Books 
 
 OINCE honour from the honourer proceeds, 
 "^ How well do they deserve, that memorize 
 And leave in books, for all posterities 
 The names of worthies and their virtuous deeds; 
 When all their glory else, like water-weeds 
 Without their element, presently dies. 
 And all their greatness quite forgotten lies. 
 And when and how they flourished no man heeds! 
 How poor remembrances are statues, tombs, 
 And other monuments that men erect 
 To princes, which remain in closed rooms 
 Where but a few behold them, in respect 
 Of Books, that to the universal eye 
 Show how they lived; the other where they lie! 
 
 J. Florio 
 
 ^11. The Book of the World 
 
 /^F this fair volume which we World do name 
 
 ^-^ If we the sheets and leaves could turn with care. 
 
 Of him who it corrects, and did it frame, 
 
 We clear might read the art and wisdom rare. 
 
 Find out his power which wildest powers doth tame. 
 
 His providence extending everywhere. 
 
 His justice which proud rebels doth not spare, 
 
 In every page, no period of the same : 
 
 But silly we, like foolish children, rest 
 
 539 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Well pleased with coloured vellum, leaves of gold, 
 Fair dangling ribbands, leaving what is best. 
 On the great Writer's sense ne'er taking hold; 
 Or, if by chance we stay our minds on aught, 
 It is some picture on the margin wrought. 
 
 W. Drummond 
 
 51 2. The Worlds a Hunting 
 
 'T^HIS world a hunting is, 
 ^ The prey poor man, the Nimrod fierce is Death ; 
 
 His speedy greyhounds are 
 
 Lust, sickness, envy, care. 
 
 Strife that ne'er falls amiss. 
 With all those ills which haunt us while we breathe. 
 
 Now, if by chance we fly 
 
 Of these the eager chase. 
 
 Old Age with stealing pace 
 Casts on his nets, and there we panting die. 
 
 W. Drummond 
 
 51 3. Virtue 
 
 O WEFT day, so cool, so calm, so bright ! 
 ^^ The bridal of the earth and sky, — 
 The dew shall weep thy fall to-night; 
 For thou must die. 
 
 Sweet rose, whose hue, angry and brave, 
 Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, 
 Thy root is ever in its grave, 
 And thou must die. 
 540 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, 
 A box where sweets compacted lie, 
 My music shows ye have your closes, 
 And all must die. 
 
 Only a sweet and virtuous soul, 
 Like season'd timber, never gives; 
 But though the whole world turn to coal, 
 Then chiefly lives. 
 
 G. Herbert 
 
 ^14. A Contrast 
 
 A 1 /"HENAS man's life, the light of human lust, 
 
 * In socket of his earthly lanthorn burns, 
 That all his glory unto ashes must. 
 
 And generations to corruption turns. 
 Then fond desires that only fear their end, 
 Do vainly wish for life, but to amend. 
 But when this life is from the body fled. 
 
 To see itself in that eternal glass. 
 Where time doth end, and thoughts accuse the dead, 
 
 Where all to come is one with all that was; 
 Then living men ask how he left his breath. 
 That while he lived never thought of death. 
 
 F. Greville^ Lord Brooke 
 
 5/5. Eidola 
 
 A RE they shadows that we see ? 
 ^ ^ And can shadows pleasure give ? 
 Pleasures only shadows be, 
 
 541 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 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 expressed: 
 
 Pleasures are not, if they last. 
 In their passing, is their best; 
 
 Glory 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. 
 
 S. Da 
 
 Ji6, A Palinode 
 
 I. 
 
 A S withereth the primrose by the river, 
 •^^^ As fadeth summer's sun from gliding fountains^ 
 As vanisheth the light-blown bubble ever, 
 As melteth snow upon the mossy mountains: 
 So melts, so vanisheth, so fades, so withers. 
 The rose, the shine, the bubble, and the snow, 
 Of praise, pomp, glory, joy, which short life gathers, 
 Fair praise, vain pomp, sweet glory, brittle joy. 
 542 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 The withered primrose by the mourning river, 
 The faded summer's sun from weeping fountains, 
 The hght-blown bubble vanished for ever, 
 The molten snow upon the naked mountains. 
 Are emblems that the treasures we up-lay 
 Soon wither, vanish, fade, and melt away. 
 
 //. 
 
 For as the snow, whose lawn did overspread 
 Th' ambitious hills, which giant-like did threat 
 To pierce the heavens with their aspiring head, 
 Naked and bare doth leave their craggy seat; 
 Whenas the bubble, which did empty fly. 
 The dalliance of the undiscerned wind. 
 On whose calm rolling waves it did rely, 
 Hath shipwrack made, where it did dalliance find; 
 And when the sunshine which dissolved the snow^ 
 Coloured the bubble with a pleasant vary. 
 And made the rathe and timely primrose grow, 
 Swarth clouds withdrawn, which longer time do tarry: 
 O what is praise, pomp, glory, joy, but so 
 As shine by fountains, bubbles, flowers, or snow ? 
 
 E, Bolton 
 
 5/7. Sic Transit 
 
 /^^OME, cheerful day, part of my life to me; 
 ^-^ For while thou view'st me with thy fading light, 
 Part of my life doth still depart with thee. 
 
 And I still onward haste to my last night: 
 Time's fatal wings do ever forward fly. 
 So every day we live a day we die. 
 
 543 
 
B^ 
 
 THE BOOK OF 
 
 But, O ye nights, ordained for barren rest, 
 
 How are my days deprived of life in you, 
 When heavy sleep my soul hath dispossest, 
 By feigned death life sweetly to renew! 
 » Part of my life in that, you life deny: 
 So every day we live a day we die. 
 
 T. Campion 
 
 ^i8. Amiens^ Song 
 
 >LOW, blow thou winter wind, 
 
 Thou art not so unkind 
 As man's ingratitude; 
 Thy tooth is not so keen. 
 Because thou art not seen. 
 Although thy breath be rude. 
 Heigh ho! sing heigh ho! unto the green holly: 
 Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: 
 Then heigh ho, the holly: 
 This life is most jolly. 
 
 Freeze, freeze thou bitter sky. 
 That dost not bite so nigh 
 
 As benefits forgot: 
 Though thou the waters warp. 
 Thy sting is not so sharp 
 As friend remembered not. 
 Heigh ho! sing heigh ho! unto the green holly: 
 Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: 
 Then heigh ho, the hollv ! 
 This life is most jolly. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 544 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 5/9. Embers 
 
 T^HAT time of year thou may'st in me behold 
 -"- When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang 
 Upon those boughs which shake against the cold — 
 Bare ruined choirs where late the sweet birds sang. 
 In me thou see'st the twilight of such day 
 As after sunset fadeth in the west. 
 Which by and by black night doth take away, 
 Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. 
 In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire 
 That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, 
 As the death-bed whereon it must expire, 
 Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by. 
 
 This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong, 
 To love that well which thou must leave ere long. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 520. Fidele 
 
 *EAR no more the heat o' the sun, 
 Nor the furious winter's rages; 
 Thou thy worldly task hast done. 
 
 Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages: 
 Golden lads and girls all must. 
 As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. 
 
 Fear no more the frown o' the great, 
 Thou art past the tyrant's stroke; 
 
 Care no more to clothe and eat; 
 To thee the reed is as the oak : 
 
 The sceptre, learning, physic, must 
 
 All follow this, and come to dust. 
 
 545* 
 
 F^ 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Fear no more the lightning-flash, 
 Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone; 
 
 Fear not slander, censure rash; 
 Thou hast finished joy and moar» • 
 
 All lovers young, all lovers must 
 
 Consign to thee, and come to dust. 
 
 No exorciser harm thee! 
 Nor no witchcraft charm thee ! 
 Ghost unlaid forbear thee ! 
 Nothing ill come near thee. 
 Quiet consummation have; 
 And renowned be thy grave! 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 S2I. Sad Memorials 
 
 OWEET Spring, thou turn'st with all thy goodly train; 
 
 ^^ Thy head with flames, thy mantle bright with flow'rs, 
 
 The zephyrs curl the green locks of the plain. 
 
 The clouds for joy in pearls weep down their show'rs. 
 
 Thou turn'st, sweet youth, but ah ! my pleasant hours 
 
 And happy days with thee come not again; 
 
 The sad memorials only of my pain 
 
 Do with thee turn, which turn my sweets in sours. 
 
 Thou art the same which still thou wert before, 
 
 Delicious, lusty, amiable, fair; 
 
 But she, whose breath embalmed thy wholesome air. 
 
 Is gone — nor gold, nor gems, can her restore. 
 
 Neglected virtue, seasons go and come. 
 
 While thine, forgot, lie closed in a tomb. 
 
 W. Drummond 
 546 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 522. A Religious Use of Taking Tobacco 
 
 npHE Indian weed withered quite; 
 ^ Green at morn, cut down at night; 
 Shows thy decay; all flesh is hay: 
 Thus think, then drink Tobacco. 
 
 And when the smoke ascends on high, 
 Think thou behold'st the vanity 
 Of worldly stuff; gone with a pufF: 
 Thus think, then drink Tobacco. 
 
 The ashes that are left behind, 
 May serve to put thee still in mind, 
 That unto dust return thou must: 
 Thus think, then drink Tobacco. 
 
 R. Wisdome 
 
 S2J. If Thou Survive 
 
 TF thou survive my well-contented day 
 ''■ When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover. 
 And shalt by fortune once more re-survey 
 These poor rude lines of thy deceased lover. 
 Compare them with the bett'ring of the time, 
 And though they be outstripped by every pen. 
 Reserve them for my love, not for their rhyme, 
 Exceeded by the height of happier men. 
 
 547 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 O then vouchsafe me but this loving thought: 
 ' Had my friend's Muse grown v^ith this growing age, 
 A dearer birth than this his love had brought 
 To march in ranks of better equipage: 
 But since he died, and poets better prove, 
 Theirs for their style I'll read, his for his love.' 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 5^^. On Sardanapalus^ Dishonourable 
 Life and Miserable Death 
 
 'T^H' Assyrian king, in peace, with foul desire 
 -*- And filthy lusts that stained his regal heart; 
 In war, that should set princely hearts on fire. 
 Did yield, vanquished for want of martial art. 
 The dint of swords from kisses seemed strange, 
 And harder than his lady's side his targe; 
 From glutton feasts to soldier's fare a change; 
 His helmet far above a garland's charge: 
 Who scarce the name of manhood did retain, 
 Drenched in sloth and womanish delight. 
 Feeble of spirit, impatient of pain, 
 When he had lost his honour and his right, 
 (Proud, time of wealth; in storms, appalled with dread,) 
 Murthered himself, to show some manful deed. 
 
 Earl of Surrey 
 
 ^2^. I Fear Not Henceforth Death 
 
 T FEAR not henceforth death, 
 
 ^ Sith after this departure yet I breathe; 
 
 Let rocks, and seas, and wind 
 
 Their highest treasons show; 
 
 Let sky and earth combined 
 548 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Strive, if they can, to end my life and woe; 
 
 Sith grief cannot, me nothing can o'erthrow: 
 Or if that aught can cause my fatal lot. 
 It will be when I hear I am forgot. 
 
 W. Drummond 
 
 S26. Good Night 
 
 ' I ^HIS night is my departing night; 
 -^ For here nae langer must I stay! 
 There 's neither friend, nor foe, o' mine, 
 But wishes me away ! 
 
 What I have done, thro' lack of wit, 
 
 I never, never, can recall! 
 I hope ye're a' my friends as yet; 
 
 Good Night ! and joy be with you all ! 
 
 T . Armstrong 
 
 5^7. Chidiock Tichhorne's Lament 
 
 IV /TY prime of youth is but a frost of cares; 
 -'^ ■*- My feast of joy is but a dish of pain; 
 My crop of corn is but a field of tares; 
 
 And all my good is but vain hope of gain; 
 The day is fled, and yet I saw no sun; 
 And now I live, and now my life is done! 
 
 The spring is past, and yet it hath not sprung; 
 
 The fruit is dead, and yet the leaves be green; 
 My youth is gone, and yet I am but young; 
 
 I saw the world, and yet I was not seen; 
 My thread is cut, and yet it is not spun; 
 And now I live, and now my life is done ! 
 
 549 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 I sought my death, and found it in my womb; 
 
 I looked for life, and saw it was a shade; 
 I trod the earth, and knew it was my tomb; 
 
 And now I die, and now I am but made; 
 The glass is full, and now my glass is run; 
 And now I live, and now my life is done ! 
 
 C. Tichhorne 
 
 528. His Winding-Sheet 
 
 COME thou, who art the wine and wit 
 Of all I've writ: 
 The grace, the glory, and the best 
 
 Piece of the rest. 
 Thou art of what I did intend 
 
 The all and end; 
 And what was made, was made to meet 
 
 Thee, thee, my sheet. 
 Come then and be to my chaste side 
 
 Both bed and bride: 
 We two, as reliques left, will have 
 
 One rest, one grave: 
 And hugging close, we will not fear 
 
 Lust entering here : 
 Where all desires are dead or cold 
 
 As in the mould; 
 And all affections are forgot, 
 
 Or trouble not. 
 Here, here, the slaves and prisoners be 
 
 From shackles free: 
 And weeping widows long oppress'd 
 
 Do here find rest. 
 SSo 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 The wronged client ends his laws 
 
 Here, and his cause. 
 Here those long suits of Chancery lie 
 
 Quiet, or die : 
 And all Star-Chamber bills do cease 
 
 Or hold their peace. 
 Here needs no Court for our Request 
 
 Where all are best. 
 All wise, all equal, and all just 
 
 Alike i' th' dust. 
 Nor need we here to fear the frown 
 
 Of court or crown: 
 Where fortune bears no sway o'er things^ 
 
 There all are kings. 
 In this securer place we'll keep 
 
 As luU'd asleep; 
 Or for a little time we'll lie 
 
 As robes laid by; 
 To be another day rewom, 
 
 Turn'd, but not torn; 
 Or like old testaments engross'd, 
 
 Lock'd up, not lost. 
 And for a while lie here conceal'd, 
 
 To be reveal'd 
 Next at the great Platonick year, 
 
 And then meet here. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 551 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 §2g. Miser rimus 
 
 TAECEIVING world, that with alluring toys 
 
 Hast made my life the subject of thy scorn, 
 
 And scornest now to lend thy fading joys 
 
 To lengthen my life, whom friends have left forlorn; 
 
 How well are they that die ere they be born. 
 And never see thy sleights, which few men shun 
 Till unawares they helpless are undone ! 
 
 Oft have I sung of Love and of his fire; 
 
 But now I find that poet was advised. 
 
 Which made full feasts increasers of desire, 
 
 And proves weak Love was with the poor despised; 
 
 For when the life with food is not sufficed. 
 
 What thoughts of love, what motion of delight. 
 What pleasure can proceed from such a wight ? 
 
 Witness my want the murderer of my wit: 
 My ravished sense, of wonted fury reft. 
 Wants such conceits as should in poems fit 
 Set down the sorrow wherein I am left: 
 But therefore have high heavens their gifts bereft. 
 Because so long they lent them me to use, 
 And I so long their bounty did abuse. 
 
 O, that a year were granted me to live, 
 And for that year my former wits restored! 
 What rules of life, what counsel would I give. 
 How should my sin with sorrow be deplored ! 
 
 552 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 But I must die, of every man abhorred : 
 Time loosely spent will not again be won; 
 My time is loosely spent, and I undone. 
 
 R. Greent 
 
 5J0. To a Mistress Dying 
 
 Lover. Your beauty, ripe and calm and fresh 
 As eastern summers are, 
 Must now, forsaking time and flesh, 
 Add light to some small star. 
 
 Philosopher. Whilst she yet lives, were stars decayed, 
 Their light by hers relief might find; 
 But Death will lead her to a shade 
 Where Love is cold and Beauty blind. 
 
 Lover. Lovers, whose priests all poets are, 
 
 Think every mistress, when she dies, 
 Is changed at least into a star: 
 
 And who dares doubt the poets wise ? 
 
 Philosopher. But ask not bodies doomed to die 
 To what abode the]^ go; 
 Since Knowledge is but Sorrow's spy, 
 It is not safe to know. 
 
 Sir W. Davenant 
 
 S3 1- Thy Bosom Is Endeared with All 
 Hearts 
 
 " I ^HY bosom is endeared with all hearts 
 
 Which I, by lacking, have supposed dead : 
 And there reigns Love, and all Love's loving parts, 
 
 553 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 And all those friends which I thought buried. 
 How many a holy and obsequious tear 
 Hath dear religious love stol'n from mine eye, 
 As interest of the dead ! — which now appear 
 But things removed that hidden in thee lie. 
 Thou art the grave where buried love doth live, 
 Hung with the trophies of my lovers gone. 
 Who all their parts of me to thee did give: 
 — That due of many now is thine alone : 
 Their images I loved I view in thee. 
 And thou, all they, hast all the all of me. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 S32. When to the Sessions of Sweet Silent 
 Thought 
 
 "\ ^ THEN to the sessions of sweet silent thought 
 ' * I summon up remembrance of things past, 
 I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, 
 And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste: 
 Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow. 
 For precious friends hid in death's dateless night, 
 And weep afresh love's long-since-cancell'd woe, 
 And moan th' expense of many a vanish'd sight: 
 Then can I grieve at grievances foregone. 
 And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er 
 The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan. 
 Which I new pay as if not paid before. 
 
 But if the while I think on thee, dear Friend, 
 All losses are restored and sorrows end. 
 
 ^. Shakespeare 
 554 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 S33. To His Lute 
 
 A /TY lute, be as thou wert when thou didst grow 
 IV J. ^{j-j^ fj^y green mother in some shady grove, 
 When immelodious winds but made thee move, 
 And birds on thee their ramage did bestow. 
 Sith that dear voice which did thy sounds approve, 
 Which wont in such harmonious strains to flow. 
 Is reft from earth to tune those spheres above. 
 What art thou but a harbinger of woe ? 
 Thy pleasing notes be pleasing notes no more, 
 But orphans' wailings to the fainting ear; 
 Each stop a sigh, each sound draws forth a tear; 
 Be therefore silent as in woods before; 
 Or if that any hand to touch thee deign. 
 Like widow'd turtle, still her loss complain. 
 
 W. Drummond 
 
 S3 4. Alexis, Here She Stayed, Among 
 These Pines 
 
 A LEXIS, here she stayed; among these pines, 
 ^ Sweet hermitress, she did alone repair; 
 Here did she spread the treasure of her hair. 
 More rich than that brought from the Colchian mines; 
 She set her by these musked eglantines, — 
 The happy place the print seems yet to bear; — 
 Her voice did sweeten here thy sugared lines. 
 To which winds, trees, beasts, birds, did lend an ear: 
 
 555 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Me here she first perceived, and here a morn 
 Of bright carnations did o'erspread her face; 
 Here did she sigh, here first my hopes were born, 
 And I first got a pledge of promised grace; 
 But ah ! what served it to be happy so, 
 Sith passed pleasures double but new woe ? 
 
 W. Drummond 
 
 535- Sweet Soul, Which in the April of 
 Thy Years 
 
 OWEET soul, which in the April of thy years 
 ^^ So to enrich the heaven mad'st poor this round, 
 And now, with golden rays of glory crowned. 
 Most blest abid'st above the spheres of spheres; 
 If heavenly laws, alas ! have not thee bound 
 From looking to this globe that all up-bears, 
 If ruth and pity there above be found, 
 O deign to lend a look unto these tears. 
 , Do not disdain, dear ghost, this sacrifice; 
 And though I raise not pillars to thy praise, 
 My offerings take. Let this for me suffice: 
 My heart, a living pyramid, I raise; 
 And whilst kings' tombs with laurels flourish green. 
 Thine shall with myrtles and these flowers be seen. 
 
 W. Drummond 
 
 S26. Forget 
 
 TO longer mourn for me when I am dead 
 Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell 
 Give warning to the world that I am fled 
 From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell : 
 556 
 
 N^ 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Nay, if you read this line, remember not 
 The hand that writ it; for I love you so, 
 That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot 
 If thinking on me then should make you woe. 
 O if, I say, you look upon this verse. 
 When I perhaps compounded am with clay. 
 Do not so much as my poor name rehearse, 
 But let your love even with my life decay; 
 
 Lest the wise world should look into your moan, 
 And mock you with me after I am gone. 
 
 fV. Shakespeare 
 
 537' One Bay I Wrote Her Name Upon 
 the Strand 
 
 /'"^NE day I wrote her name upon the strand, 
 
 ^-^ But came the waves and washed it away: 
 
 Again I wrote it with a second hand. 
 
 But came the tide and made my pains his prey. 
 
 Vain man (said she) that dost in vain assay 
 
 A mortal thing so to immortalise; 
 
 For I myself shall like to this decay. 
 
 And eke my name be wiped out likewise. 
 
 Not so (quod I); let baser things devise 
 
 To die in dust, but you shall live by fame; 
 
 My verse your virtues rare shall eternise. 
 
 And in the heavens write your glorious name : 
 
 Where, whenas Death shall all the world subdue. 
 
 Our love shall live, and later life renew. 
 
 E. Spenser 
 
 557 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 ^j8, I Know That All Beneath the Moon 
 Decays 
 
 T KNOW that all beneath the moon decays, 
 
 And what by mortals in this world is brought 
 In time's great periods shall return to naught; 
 That fairest states have fatal nights and days. 
 I know how all the Muse's heavenly lays, 
 With toil of sprite which is so dearly bought, 
 As idle sounds, of few or none are sought; 
 And that naught lighter is than airy praise. 
 I know frail beauty like the purple flower 
 To which one morn oft birth and death affords; 
 That love a jarring is of mind's accords. 
 Where sense and will invassall reason's power. 
 Know what I list, this all cannot me move. 
 But that, O me! I both must write and love. 
 
 W. Drummond 
 
 5J9. Thou Window^ Once Which Served 
 jor a Sphere 
 
 npHOU window, once which served for a sphere 
 -*■ To that dear planet of my heart, whose light 
 Made often blush the glorious queen of night. 
 While she in thee more beauteous did appear. 
 What mourning weeds, alas ! now dost thou wear ? 
 How loathsome to mine eyes is thy sad sight ? 
 How poorly look'st thou, with what heavy cheer, 
 Since that sun set, which made thee shine so bright ? 
 558 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Unhappy now thee close, for as of late 
 
 To wond'ring eyes thou wast a paradise, 
 
 Bereft of her who made thee fortunate, 
 
 A gulf thou art, whence clouds of sighs arise; 
 
 But unto none so noisome as to me. 
 
 Who hourly see my murdered joys in thee. 
 
 W. Drummond 
 
 540. MglamouY^s Lament 
 
 TTERE she was wont to go, and here, and here! 
 
 -'-''- Just where those daisies, pinks, and violets grow: 
 
 The world may find the spring by following her; 
 
 For other print her airy steps ne'er left: 
 
 Her treading would not bend a blade of grass, 
 
 Or shake the downy blow-ball from his stalk; 
 
 But like the soft west-wind she shot along; 
 
 And where she went, the flowers took thickest root 
 
 As she had sowed them with her odourous foot. 
 
 B. Jonson 
 
 541. O Crudelis Amor 
 
 T^THEN thou must home to shades of underground, 
 
 * And there arrived, a new admired guest. 
 The beauteous spirits do engirt thee round, 
 White lope, blithe Helen, and the rest. 
 To hear the stories of thy finish'd love 
 From that smooth tongue whose music hell can move; 
 
 559 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Then wilt thou speak of banqueting delights, 
 
 Of masques and revels which sweet youth did make. 
 
 Of tourneys and great challenges of knights, 
 
 And all these triumphs for thy beauty's sake: 
 
 When thou hast told these honours done to thee. 
 
 Then tell, O tell, how thou didst murder me! 
 
 T. Campion 
 
 542. ■ Her Autumn 
 
 ^1 rHEN I do count the clock that tells the time, 
 
 ' * And see the brave day sunk in hideous night; 
 When I behold the violet past prime. 
 And sable curls all silver'd o'er with white; 
 When lofty trees I see barren of leaves. 
 Which erst from heat did canopy the herd. 
 And summer's green, all girded up in sheaves. 
 Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard; 
 Then of thy beauty do I question make, 
 That thou among the wastes of time must go. 
 Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake 
 And die as fast as they see others grow; 
 
 And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence 
 Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 543. Like As the Culver^ on the Bared 
 
 Bough 
 
 T IKE as the Culver, on the bared bough, 
 -*— ^ Sits mourning for the absence of her mate; 
 And, in her songs, sends many a wishful vow 
 For his return that seems to linger late: 
 560 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 So I alone, now left disconsolate, 
 
 Mourn to myself the absence of my love; 
 
 And, wandering here and there all desolate, 
 
 Seek with my plaints to match that mournful dove 
 
 Ne joy of aught that under heaven doth hove. 
 
 Can comfort me, but her own joyous sight 
 
 Whose sweet aspect both God and man can move. 
 
 In her unspotted pleasance to delight. 
 
 Dark is my day, whiles her fair light I miss, 
 
 And dead my life that wants such lively bliss. 
 
 E. Spenser 
 
 ^44. To Me, Fair Friend, You Never 
 Can Be Old 
 
 nnO me, fair friend, you never can be old; 
 ■*' For as you were when first your eye I eyed. 
 Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold 
 Have from the forests shook three summers' pride; 
 Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd 
 In process of the seasons have I seen. 
 Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd. 
 Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green. 
 Ah ! yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand, 
 Steal from his figure, and no pace perceived; 
 So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand, 
 Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived. 
 For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred : 
 Ere you were born was beauty's summer dead. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 561 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 5^5. Bright Soul oj the Sad Year 
 
 T^AIR summer droops, droop men and beasts therefore, 
 -*■ So fair a summer look for never more : 
 All good things vanish less than in a day, 
 Peace, plenty, pleasure suddenly decay. 
 
 Go not yet away, bright soul of the sad year. 
 The earth is hell when thou leav'st to appear. 
 
 What, shall those flowers, that decked thy garland erst, 
 
 Upon thy grave be wastefully dispersed .? 
 
 O trees, consume your sap in sorrow's source, 
 
 Streams, turn to tears your tributary course. 
 
 Go not yet hence, bright soul of the sad year. 
 The earth is hell when thou leav'st to appear. 
 
 T. Nashe 
 
 546. Praise of Ceres 
 
 \\TITH fair Ceres, Queen of Grain, 
 
 The reaped fields we roam. 
 Each country peasant, nymph and swain, 
 
 Sing their harvest home; 
 Whilst the Queen of Plenty hallows 
 Growing fields as well as fallows. 
 
 Echo, double all your lays. 
 
 Make the champians sound 
 To the Queen of Harvest's praise. 
 
 That sows and reaps our ground : 
 Ceres, Queen of Plenty, hallows 
 Growing fields as well as fallows. 
 
 T. Heywood 
 562 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 ^4j. Winter 
 
 ^7[ THEN icicles hang by the wall, 
 
 ^ * And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, 
 And Tom bears logs into the hall, 
 
 And milk comes frozen home in pail, 
 When blood is nipped, and ways be foul. 
 Then nightly sings the staring owl. 
 
 Tu-whit ! 
 Tu-who ! — a merry note. 
 While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. 
 
 When all around the wind doth blow. 
 And coughing drowns the parson's saw, 
 
 And birds sit brooding in the snow, 
 And Marian's nose looks red and raw. 
 
 When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl. 
 
 Then nightly sings the staring owl 
 Tu-whit ! 
 
 Tu-who ! — a merry note. 
 
 While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 J48. Now Winter Nights Enlarge 
 
 IVJOW winter nights enlarge 
 ^ The number of their hours. 
 And clouds their storms discharge 
 
 Upon the airy towers. 
 Let now the chimneys blaze. 
 
 And cups o'erflow with wine; 
 Let well-tuned words amaze 
 
 With harmony divine. 
 
 563 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Now yellow waxen lights 
 Shall wait on honey love, 
 While youthful revels, masques, and courtly sights 
 Sleep's leaden spells remove. 
 
 This time doth well dispense 
 
 With lovers' long discourse; 
 Much speech hath some defence, 
 
 Though beauty no remorse. 
 All do not all things well; 
 
 Some measures comely tread. 
 Some knotted riddles tell, 
 
 Some poems smoothly read. 
 The summer hath his joys 
 
 And winter his delights; 
 Though love and all his pleasures are but toys, 
 
 They shorten tedious nights, 
 
 T' Campton 
 
 54g^ A Round 
 
 OHAKE ofF your heavy trance! 
 *^ And leap into a dance 
 Such as no mortal use to tread; 
 
 Fit only for Apollo 
 To play to, for the moon to lead, 
 
 And all the stars to fqllovv! 
 
 F. Beaumont 
 
 564 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 55(9. Come, Sorrow, Come 
 
 /^~^OME, Sorrow, come, sit down and mourn with me; 
 ^^ Hang down thy head upon thy baleful breast. 
 That God and man and all the world may see 
 Our heavy hearts do live in quiet rest; 
 Enfold thine arms and wring thy wretched hands 
 To shew the State wherein poor Sorrow stands. 
 
 Cry not outright, for that were children's guise. 
 But let thy tears fall trickling down thy face. 
 And weep so long until thy blubbered eyes 
 May see in sum the depth of thy disgrace. 
 Oh shake thy head, but not a word but mum; 
 The heart once dead, the tongue is stroken dumb. 
 
 And let our fare be dishes of despite 
 To break our hearts and not our fasts withal; 
 Then let us sup with sorrow-sops at night. 
 And bitter sauce all of a broken gall: 
 Thus let us live till heavens may rue to see 
 The doleful doom ordained for thee and me. 
 
 ^^i. Come, Ye Heavy States of Night 
 
 /''^OME, ye heavy states of night, 
 ^^ Do my father's spirit right; 
 Soundings baleful let me borrow, 
 Burthening my song with sorrow. 
 
 Come, Sorrow, come ! her eyes that sings 
 By thee are turned into springs. 
 
 565 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Come, you virgins of the night, 
 That in dirges sad delight, 
 Choir my anthems : I do borrow 
 Gold nor pearl, but sounds of sorrow. 
 Come, Sorrow, come ! her eyes that sings 
 By thee are turned into springs. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 55^. O, Sorrow, Sorrow 
 
 /^, SORROW, Sorrow, say where dost thou dwell f 
 ^-^ In the lowest room of hell. 
 
 Art thou born of human race ? 
 No, no, I have a furier face. 
 Art thou in city, town, or court? 
 I to every place resort. 
 O, why into the world is Sorrow sent .? 
 Men afflicted best repent. 
 What dost thou feed on ? 
 
 Broken sleep. 
 What takest thou pleasure in ? 
 To weep, 
 To sigh, to sob, to pine, to groan, 
 To wring my hands, to sit alone. 
 O when, O when shall Sorrow quiet have ? 
 Never, never, never, never. 
 Never till she finds a grave. 
 
 r. Dekker 
 
 566 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 553' Urns and Odours Bring Away 
 
 T TRNS and odours bring away ! 
 ^^ Vapours, sighs, darken the day I 
 
 Our dole more deadly looks than dying; 
 Balms and gums and heavy cheers, 
 Sacred vials fill'd with tears, 
 
 And clamours through the wild air flying! 
 
 Come, all sad and solemn shows. 
 That are quick-eyed Pleasure's foes ! 
 We convent naught else but woes. 
 
 Shakespeare or Fletcher 
 
 5S4' Melancholy 
 
 TTENCE, all you vain delights, 
 ^ -^ As short as are the nights 
 
 Wherein you spend your folly! 
 There's naught in this life sweet, 
 If man were wise to see't, 
 
 But only melancholy, 
 
 O sweetest melancholy! 
 
 Welcome folded arms and fixed eyes, 
 A sigh that piercing mortifies, 
 A look that's fasten'd to the ground, 
 A tongue chain'd up without a sound ! 
 
 Fountain-heads, and pathless groves, 
 Places which pale passion loves! 
 Moonlight walks, when all the fowls 
 Are warmly housed, save bats and owls! 
 
 567 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 A midnight bell, a parting groan — 
 These are the sounds we feed upon, 
 
 Then stretch our bones in a still gloomy valley; 
 
 Nothing's so dainty sweet as lovely melancholy. 
 
 J. Fletcher 
 
 ^^j. Disconsolate 
 
 npHE gentle season of the year 
 -*~ Hath made my blooming branch appear, 
 
 And beautified the land with flowers; 
 The air doth savour with delight, 
 The heavens do smile to see the sight. 
 
 And yet mine eyes augments their showers. 
 
 The meads are mantled all with green. 
 The trembling leaves have clothed the treen, 
 
 The birds with feathers new do sing; 
 But I, poor soul ! when wrong doth wrack, 
 Attire myself in mourning black, 
 
 Whose leaf doth fall amid his spring! 
 
 And, as you see the scarlet rose 
 
 In his sweet prime his buds disclose, 
 
 Whose hue is with the sun revived; 
 So, in the April of mine age. 
 My lively colours do assuage. 
 
 Because my sunshine is deprived. 
 568 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 My heart, that wonted was of yore 
 Light as the winds abroad to soar, 
 
 Amongst the buds, when beauty springs, 
 Now only hovers over you; 
 As doth the bird that's taken new 
 
 And mourns when all her neighbours singSc 
 
 When every man is bent to sport, 
 Then pensive I alone resort 
 
 Into some solitary walk; 
 As doth the doleful turtle-dove. 
 Who, having lost her faithful love. 
 
 Sits mourning on some withered stalk. 
 
 There to myself I do recount 
 
 How far my woes my joys surmount, 
 
 How Love requiteth me with hate; 
 How all my pleasures end in pain. 
 How hate doth say my hope is vain. 
 
 How fortune frowns upon my state. 
 
 And in this mood, charged with despair. 
 With vapoured sighs I dim the air, 
 
 And to the gods make this request : — 
 That, by the ending of my life, 
 I may have truce with this strange strife, 
 
 And bring my soul to better rest. 
 
 569 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 556. Of Misery 
 
 /^ORPSE, clad with carefulness; 
 
 ^-^ Heart, heaped with heaviness; 
 
 Purse, poor and penniless; 
 
 Back bare in bitterness; 
 
 O get my grave in readiness; 
 
 Fain would I die to end this stress. 
 
 T. Howell 
 
 SS7' The Weeper 
 
 " I ^HE dew no more will weep 
 -*- The primrose's pale cheek to deck: 
 The dew no more will sleep 
 Nuzzled in the lily's neck: 
 Much rather would it tremble here 
 And leave them both to be thy tear. 
 
 Not the soft gold which 
 
 Steals from the amber-weeping tree. 
 Makes Sorrow half so rich 
 
 As the drops distill'd from thee: 
 Sorrow's best jewels lie in these 
 Caskets of which Heaven keeps the keys. 
 
 When Sorrow would be seen 
 
 In her brightest majesty, 
 — For she is a Queen — 
 
 Then is she drest by none but thee: 
 Then, and only then, she wears 
 Her richest pearls — I mean thy tears. 
 570 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Not in the evening's eyes, 
 
 When they red with weeping are 
 
 For the sun that dies, 
 
 Sits Sorrow with a face so fair: 
 
 Nowhere but here did ever meet 
 
 Sweetness so sad, sadness so sweet. 
 
 When some new bright guest 
 
 Takes up among the stars a room, 
 
 And Heaven will make a feast, 
 Angels with their bottles come, 
 
 And draw from these full eyes of thine 
 
 Their Master's water, their own wine. 
 
 Does the night arise ? 
 
 Still thy tears do fall and fall. 
 Does night lose her eyes ? 
 
 Still the fountain weeps for all. 
 Let night or day do what they will. 
 Thou hast thy task, thou weepest still. 
 
 R. Crash aw 
 
 SS^- Idle Tears 
 
 T'X TEEP no rriore, nor sigh, nor groan, 
 ^ * Sorrow calls no time that's gone: 
 Violets pluck'd, the sweetest rain 
 Makes not fresh nor grow again. 
 Trim thy locks, look cheerfully; 
 Fate's hid ends eyes cannot see; 
 
 571 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Joys as winged dreams fly fast, 
 Why should sadness longer last ? 
 Grief is but a wound to woe; 
 Gentlest fair, mourn, mourn no moe. 
 
 J. Fletcher 
 
 5Sg, I Saw My Lady Weep 
 
 T SAW my Lady weep, 
 
 "*■ And Sorrow proud to be advanced so 
 
 In those fair eyes where all perfections keep. 
 
 Her face was full of woe: 
 But such a woe, believe me, as wins more hearts 
 Than Mirth can do with her enticing parts. 
 
 Sorrow was there made fair. 
 And Passion wise; Tears a delightful thing; 
 Silence beyond all speech, a wisdom rare; 
 
 She made her sighs to sing, 
 And all things with so sweet a sadness move 
 As made my heart at once both grieve and love. 
 
 O fairer than aught else 
 The world can show, leave off in time to grieve ! 
 Enough, enough: your joyful" look excels; 
 
 Tears kill the heart, believe. 
 O strive not to be excellent in woe, 
 Which only breeds your beauty's overthrow. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 572 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 5^0. Weep You No More, Sad Fountains 
 
 "\^7"EEP you no more, sad fountains; 
 
 ^ • What need you flow so fast ? 
 Look how the snowy mountains 
 
 Heaven's sun doth gently waste ! 
 But my Sun's heavenly eyes 
 View not your weeping, 
 That now lies sleeping 
 Softly, now softly lies 
 Sleeping. 
 
 Sleep is a reconciling, 
 
 A rest that peace begets; 
 Doth not the sun rise smiling 
 When fair at even he sets ? 
 Rest you, then, rest, sad eyes! 
 Melt not in weeping. 
 While she lies sleeping 
 Softly, now softly lies 
 
 Sleeping. Anon 
 
 S6i. To Daisies, Not to Shut So Soon 
 
 OHUT not so soon ; the dull-eyed night 
 *^ Has not as yet begun 
 To make a seizure on the light, 
 Or to seal up the sun. 
 
 No marigolds yet closed are, — 
 
 No shadows great appear; 
 Nor doth the early shepherd's star 
 
 Shine like a spangle here. 
 
 573 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Stay but till my Julia close 
 
 Her life-begetting eye, 
 And let the whole world then dispose 
 
 Itself to live or die. 
 
 R. Herrtck 
 
 §62, The Evening Knell 
 
 O HEPHERDS all, and maidens fair, 
 ^^ Fold your flocks up, for the air 
 *Gins to thicken, and the sun 
 Already his great course hath run. 
 See the dew-drops how they kiss 
 Every little flower that is. 
 Hanging on their velvet heads, 
 Like a rope of crystal beads: 
 See the heavy clouds low falling. 
 And bright Hesperus down calling 
 The dead Night from under ground; 
 At whose rising mists unsound, 
 Damps and vapours fly apace 
 Hovering o'er the wanton face 
 Of these pastures, where they come, 
 Striking dead both bud and bloom : 
 Therefore, from such danger lock 
 Every one his loved flock; 
 And let your dogs lie loose without, 
 Lest the wolf come as a scout 
 From the mountain, and ere day. 
 Bear a lamb or kid away; 
 Or the crafty thievish fox 
 Break upon your simple flocks. 
 574 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 To secure yourself from these, 
 Be not too secure in ease; 
 Let one eye his watches keep. 
 Whilst the t'other eye doth sleep; 
 So you shall good shepherds prove. 
 And forever hold the love 
 Of our great god. Sweetest slumbers. 
 And soft silence, fall in numbers 
 On your eye-lids! So, farewell! 
 Thus I end my evening's knell ! 
 
 J. Fletcher 
 
 ^6j. Pan^s Sentinel 
 
 "\JOW, whilst the moon doth rule the sky 
 ''■ ^ And the stars whose feeble light 
 Give a pale shadow to the night, 
 Are up, great Pan commanded me 
 To walk this grove about, whilst he 
 In a corner of the wood, 
 Where never mortal foot hath stood. 
 Keeps dancing, music, and a feast. 
 To entertain a lovely guest: 
 Where he gives her many a rose. 
 Sweeter than the breath that blows 
 The leaves, grapes, berries of the best; 
 I never saw so great a feast. 
 . But, to my charge. Here must I stay. 
 To see what mortals lose their way. 
 And by a false fire, seeming bright. 
 Train them in and leave them right. 
 
 57S 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Then must I watch if any be 
 Forcing of a chastity; 
 If I find it, then in haste 
 Give my wreathed horn a blast 
 And the fairies all will run, 
 Wildly dancing by the moon, 
 And will pinch him to the bone, 
 Till his lustful thoughts be gone. 
 
 Back again about this ground; 
 
 Sure I hear a mortal sound. — 
 
 I bind thee by this powerful spell. 
 
 By the waters of this well, 
 
 By the glimmering moon-beams bright, 
 
 Speak again, thou mortal wight! 
 
 Here the foolish mortal lies, 
 
 Sleeping on the ground. Arise! 
 
 The poor wight is almost dead; 
 
 On the ground his wounds have bled. 
 
 And his clothes fouled with his blood : 
 
 To my goddess in the wood 
 
 Will I lead him, whose hands pure 
 
 Will help this mortal wight to cure. 
 
 J. Flehher 
 
 §64, Song of Woe 
 
 TDARDON, goddess of the night, . 
 -*- Those that slew thy virgin knight; 
 For the which, with songs of woe. 
 Round about her tomb they go. 
 576 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Midnight, assist our moan; 
 Help us to sigh and groan, 
 Heavily, heavily: 
 Graves, yawm and yield your dead, 
 Till death be uttered 
 Heavily, heavily. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 ^65. Country Nights 
 
 ' I ^HE damask meadows and the crawling streams 
 ^ Sweeten and make soft thy dreams : 
 The purling springs, groves, birds, and well-weaved 
 bowers, 
 
 With fields enamelled with flowers, 
 Present thee shapes, while phantasy discloses 
 
 Millions of lilies mixt with roses. 
 Then dream thou hearest the lamb with many a bleat 
 
 Wooed to come suck the milky teat; 
 Whilst Faunus in the vision vows to keep 
 
 From ravenous wolf the woolly sheep; 
 With thousand such enchanting dreams, which meet 
 
 To make sleep not so sound as sweet. 
 Nor can these figures so thy rest endear 
 
 As not to up when chanticleer 
 Speaks the last watch, but with the dawn dost rise 
 
 To work, but first to sacrifice : 
 Making thy peace with heaven for some late fault, 
 
 With holy meat and crackling salt. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 «;77 
 
THE. BOOK OF 
 
 566. Sweet Suffolk Owl 
 
 OWEET Suffolk owl, so trimly dight 
 *^ With feathers, like a lady bright, 
 Thou sing'st alone, sitting by night, 
 
 Te whit, te whoo ! 
 Thy note that forth so freely rolls. 
 With shrill command the mouse controls. 
 And sings a dirge for dying souls, 
 Te whit, te whoo ! 
 
 T. Fautor 
 
 5^7. Love Hath Eyes by Night 
 
 /^ NIGHT, O jealous Night, repugnant to my measures . 
 ^-^ O Night so long desired, yet cross to my content ! 
 There's none but only thou that can perform my pleasures. 
 Yet none but only thou that hindereth my intent. 
 
 Thy beams, thy spiteful beams, thy lamps that burn too 
 brightly. 
 
 Discover all my trains and naked lay my drifts. 
 That night by night I hope, yet fail my purpose nightly; 
 
 Thy envious glaring gleam defeateth so my shifts. 
 
 Sweet Night, withhold thy beams, withhold them till to- 
 morrow ! 
 Whose joy's in lack so long a hell of torment breeds. 
 Sweet Night, sweet gentle Night, do not prolong my sorrow : 
 Desire is guide to me, and Love no lodestar needs. 
 578 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Let sailors gaze on Stars, and Moon so freshly shining; 
 
 Let them that miss the way be guided by the light; 
 I know my Lady's bower, there needs no more divining; 
 
 Affection sees in dark, and Love hath eyes by night. 
 
 Dame Cynthia, couch awhile ! hold in thy horns for shin- 
 
 And glad not low' ring Night with thy too glorious rays; 
 But be she dim and dark, tempestuous and repining, 
 That in her spite my sport may work thy endless praise. 
 
 And when my will is wrought, then, Cynthia, shine, good 
 lady. 
 All other nights and days in honour of that night, 
 That happy, heavenly night, that night so dark and shady, 
 Wherein my Love had eyes that lighted my delight ! 
 
 Anon. 
 
 ^68. The Night-Piece: To Julia 
 
 TTER 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 mislight 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. 
 
 579 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 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. 
 
 Then, Julia, let me woo thee, 
 Thus, thus to come unto me; 
 
 And when I shall meet 
 
 Thy silvr'y feet 
 My soul I'll pour into thee. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 ^6p. Nox Nodi Indicat Scientiam 
 
 ■\ 1 THEN I survey the bright 
 ^ * Celestial sphere; 
 So rich with jewels hung, that Night 
 Doth like an Ethiop bride appear: 
 
 My soul her wings doth spread 
 And heavenward flies, 
 Th' Almighty's mysteries to read 
 In the large volume of the skies. 
 
 For the bright firmament 
 Shoots forth no flame 
 So silent, but is eloquent 
 
 In speaking the Creator's name. 
 580 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 No unregarded star 
 Contracts its light 
 Into so small a character, 
 
 Removed far from our human sight, 
 
 But if we steadfast look 
 
 We shall discern 
 
 In it, as in some holy book, 
 
 How man may heavenly knowledge learn. 
 
 It tells the conqueror 
 
 That far-stretch'd power. 
 Which his proud dangers traffic for, 
 Is but the triumph of an hour: 
 
 That from the farthest North, 
 Some nation may, 
 Yet undiscover'd, issue forth. 
 
 And o'er his new-got conquest sway: 
 
 Some nation yet shut in 
 With hills of ice 
 May be let out to scourge his sin. 
 Till they shall equal him in vice. 
 
 And then they likewise shall 
 Their ruin have; 
 For as yourselves your empires fall. 
 And every kingdom hath a grave. 
 
 Thus those celestial fires. 
 Though seeming mute, 
 The fallacy of our desires 
 
 And all the pride of life confute : — 
 
 581 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 For they have watch'd since first 
 The World had birth : 
 And found sin in itself accurst, 
 And nothing permanent on Earth. 
 
 W. Habington 
 
 57O' Song 
 
 T/f/'HO is it that, this dark nighty 
 ^^ Underneath my window plaineth? 
 It is one who from thy sight 
 
 Being, ah ! exiled, disdaineth 
 Every other vulgar light. 
 
 Why, alaSy and are you he? 
 
 Be not yet those fancies changed? 
 Dear, when you find change in me, 
 
 Though from me you be estranged, 
 Let my change to ruin be. 
 
 fFelly in absence this will die: 
 
 Leave to see, and leave to wonder. 
 
 Absence sure will help, if I 
 
 Can learn how myself to sunder 
 
 From what in my heart doth lie. 
 
 But time will these thoughts remove; 
 
 Time doth work what no man knoweth. 
 Time doth as the subject prove. 
 
 With time still the aifection groweth 
 In the faithful turtle dove. 
 582 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 What if you new beauties see? 
 
 Will not they stir new affection? 
 I will think they pictures be 
 
 (Image-like, of saints' perfection) 
 Poorly counterfeiting thee. 
 
 But your reason s purest light 
 
 Bids you leave such minds to nourish. 
 
 Dear, do reason no such spite! 
 Never doth thy beauty flourish 
 
 More than in my reason's sight. 
 
 But the wrongs love bears, will make 
 Love at length leave undertaking. 
 
 No, the more fools it do shake 
 In a ground of so firm making, 
 
 Deeper still they drive the stake. 
 
 Peace! I think that some give ear! 
 
 Come no more! lest I get anger. 
 Bliss! I will my bliss forbear; 
 
 Fearing, Sweet, you to endanger! 
 But my soul shall harbour there. 
 
 Well begone, begone I say! 
 
 Lest that Argus' eyes perceive you. 
 O unjust Fortune's sway, 
 
 Which can make me thus to leave you: 
 And from louts to run away. 
 
 Sir P. Sidney 
 583 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 57/. Now the Hungry Lion Roars 
 
 Puck sings: 
 
 IVrOW the hungry lion roars, 
 •^ ^ And the wolf behowls the moon; 
 Whilst the heavy ploughman snores, 
 
 All with weary task fordone. 
 Now the w^asted brands do glow, 
 
 Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, 
 Puts the wretch that lies in woe 
 
 In remembrance of a shroud. 
 Now it is the time of night. 
 
 That the graves, all gaping wide. 
 Every one lets forth his sprite. 
 
 In the churchway paths to glide: 
 And we fairies, that do run 
 
 By the triple Hecate's team. 
 From the presence of the sun, 
 
 Following darkness like a dream, 
 Now are frolic; not a mouse 
 Shall disturb this hallowed house: 
 I am sent with broom before 
 To sweep the dust behind the door. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 5^2. To a Nightingale 
 
 OWEET bird, that sing'st away the early hours, 
 '^'-^ Of winters past or coming void of care. 
 Well pleased with delights which present are. 
 Fair seasons, budding sprays, sweet-smelling flowers; 
 
 584 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 To rocks, to springs, to rills, from leafy bowers 
 Thou thy Creator's goodness dost declare. 
 And what dear gifts on thee He did not spare, 
 A stain to human sense in sin that lowers. 
 What soul can be so sick which by thy songs, 
 Attired in sweetness, sweetly is not driven 
 Quite to forget earth's turmoils, spites, and wrongs, 
 And lift a reverent eye and thought to heaven! 
 Sweet artless songster, thou my mind dost raise 
 To airs of spheres, yes, and to angels' lays. 
 
 W. Drummond 
 
 S7J' To the Nightingale 
 
 "T^EAR chorister, who from those shadows sends, 
 ■^^^ Ere that the blushing morn dare shew her light, 
 Such sad lamenting strains, that night attends — 
 Become all ear — stars stay to hear thy plight; 
 If one whose grief even reach of thought transcends. 
 Who ne'er — not in a dream — did taste delight. 
 May thee importune who like case pretends, 
 And seems to joy in woe, in woe's despite; 
 Tell me, — so may thou fortune milder try 
 And long, long sing — for what thou thus complains, 
 Sith winter's gone and sun in dappled sky 
 Enamoured smiles on woods and flowery plains ? 
 The bird, as if my questions did her move, 
 V/ith trembling wings, sighed forth, ' I love, I love ! ' 
 
 fF. Drummond 
 585 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 5"/ 4. Hymn to Diana 
 
 QUEEN and Huntress, chaste and fair, 
 Now the sun is laid to sleep, 
 Seated in thy silver chair, 
 
 State in wonted manner keep : 
 Hesperus entreats thy light. 
 Goddess excellently bright. 
 
 Earth, let not thy envious shade 
 
 Dare itself to interpose; 
 Cynthia's shining orb was made 
 
 Heaven to clear when day did close » 
 Bless us then with wished sight 
 Goddess excellently bright. 
 
 Lay thy bow of pearl apart. 
 
 And thy crystal-shining quiver; 
 Give unto the flying hart 
 
 Space to breathe, how short soever: 
 Thou that mak'st a day of night. 
 Goddess excellently bright. 
 
 B. Jonson 
 
 575. To Cynthia 
 
 /^^YNTHIA, because your horns look divers ways, 
 ^-^ Now darkened to the east, now to the west. 
 Then at full glory once in thirty days. 
 
 Sense doth believe that change is nature's rest. 
 586 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Poor earth, that dare presume to judge the sky: 
 Cynthia is ever round, and never varies; 
 
 Shadows and distance do abuse the eye. 
 And in abused sense truth oft miscarries: 
 
 Yet who this language to the people speaks. 
 
 Opinion's empire sense's idol breaks, 
 
 F. Grevilhy Lord Brooke 
 
 Sy6. The Moon 
 
 "\ "X riTH how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies ! 
 
 How silently, and with how wan a face ! 
 What! may it be that even in heavenly place 
 That busy archer his sharp arrows tries ? 
 Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes 
 Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case: 
 I read it in thy looks; thy languish'd grace 
 To me, that feel the like, thy state descries. 
 Then, even of fellowship, O Moon, tell me. 
 Is constant love deem'd there but want of wit ? 
 Are beauties there as proud as here they be ? 
 Do they above love to be loved, and yet 
 Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess ? 
 Do they call ' virtue ' there — ungratefulness ? 
 
 ^ir P. Sidney 
 
 577. To Cynthia 
 
 /^'^YNTHIA, whose glories are at full forever, 
 
 ^-^ Whose beauties draw forth tears, and kindle fires, 
 
 Fires, which kindled once are quenched never: 
 
 So beyond hope your worth bears up desires. 
 
 587 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Why cast you clouds on your sweet-looking eyes ? 
 Are you afraid, they show me too much pleasure ? 
 Strong Nature decks the grave wherein it lies, 
 Excellence can never be expressed in measure. 
 Are you afraid because my heart adores you. 
 The world will think I hold Endymion's place ? 
 Hippolytus, sweet Cynthia, kneeled before you; 
 Yet did you not come down to kiss his face. 
 
 Angels enjoy the Heaven's inward choirs : 
 
 Star-gazers only multiply desires. 
 
 F. Greville, Lord Brooke 
 
 578. The Moon 
 
 T OOK how the pale queen of the silent night 
 -■ — ' Doth cause the ocean to attend upon her. 
 And he, as long as she is in his sight. 
 With his full tide is ready her to honour; 
 But when the silver waggon of the Moon 
 Is mounted up so high he cannot follow. 
 The sea calls home his crystal waves to moan, 
 And with low ebb doth manifest his sorrow. 
 So you, that are the sovereign of my heart. 
 Have all my joys attending on your will. 
 My joys low-ebbing when you do depart — 
 When you return, their tide my heart doth fill 
 So as you come, and as you do depart, 
 Joys ebb and flow within my tender heart. 
 
 C. Best 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 57p. Lullaby 
 
 /'"^ OLDEN slumbers kiss your eyes 
 ^^ Smiles awake you when you rise. 
 Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry, 
 And I will sing a lullaby : 
 Rock them, rock them, lullaby. 
 
 Care is heavy, therefore sleep you; 
 You are care, and care must keep you. 
 Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry, 
 And I will sing a lullaby: 
 Rock them, rock them, lullaby. 
 
 r. Dekker 
 
 S8o. Come, Sleep 
 
 /^^OME, Sleep, and with thy sweet deceiving 
 — Lock me in delight awhile; 
 Let some pleasing dreams beguile 
 All my fancies; that from thence 
 I may feel an influence, 
 
 All my powers of care bereaving ! 
 
 Though but a shadow, but a sliding 
 Let me know some little joy ! 
 We that suff"er long annoy 
 Are contented with a thought 
 Through an idle fancy wrought: 
 O let my joys have some abiding! 
 
 J. Fletcher (?) 
 589 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 ^8 1. Invocation to Sleep 
 
 /^ARE-CHARMING Sleep, thou easer of all woes, 
 ^-^ Brother to Death, sweetly thyself dispose 
 On this afflicted prince; fall like a cloud 
 In gentle showers; give nothing that is loud 
 Or painful to his slumbers; easy, light. 
 And as a purling stream, thou son of Night 
 Pass by his troubled senses; sing his pain 
 Like hollow murmuring wind or silver rain; 
 In to this prince gently, O gently, slide, 
 And kiss him into slumbers like a bride. 
 
 y. Fletcher 
 
 ^82. Care-Charmer Sleep, Son of the Sable 
 Night 
 
 /^ARE-CHARMER Sleep, son of the sable night, 
 ^-^ Brother to Death, in silent darkness born : 
 Relieve my languish and restore the light; 
 With dark forgetting of my care, return. 
 And let the day be time enough to mourn 
 The shipwrack of my ill-adventured youth : 
 Let waking eyes suffice to wail their scorn 
 Without the torment of the night's untruth. 
 Cease dreams, the images of day desires, 
 To model forth the passions of the morrow; 
 Never let rising sun approve you liars. 
 To add more grief to aggravate my sorrow. 
 Still let me sleep, embracing clouds in vain, 
 And never wake to feel the day's disdain. 
 
 S. Daniel 
 590 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 ^Sj. Hark^ All You Ladies 
 
 TTARK, all you ladies that do sleep ! 
 
 The fairy-queen Proserpina 
 Bids you awake and pity them that weep" 
 You may do in the dark 
 
 What the day doth forbid; 
 Fear not the dogs that bark, 
 Night will have all hid. 
 
 But if you let your lovers moan, 
 
 The fairy-queen Proserpina 
 Will send abroad her fairies every one, 
 That shall pinch black and blue 
 
 Your white hands and fair arms 
 That did not kindly rue 
 
 Your paramours' harms. 
 
 In myrtle arbours on the downs 
 The fairy-queen Proserpina, 
 This night by moonshine leading merry rounds, 
 Holds a watch with sweet love, 
 Down the dale, up the hill; 
 No plaints or groans may move 
 
 Their holy vigil. T . Campion 
 
 ^8^. Sleep, Angry Beauty, Sleep 
 
 O LEEP, angry beauty, sleep, and fear not me ! 
 ^^ For who a sleeping lion dares provoke ? 
 It shall suffice me here to sit and see 
 
 Those lips shut up that never kindly spoke : 
 What sight can more content a lover's mind 
 Than beauty seeming harmless, if not kind ? 
 
 591 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 My words have charmed her, for secure she sleeps, 
 Though guilty much of wrong done to my love; 
 
 And in her slumber, see! she close-eyed weeps: 
 Dreams often more than waking passions move. 
 
 Plead, Sleep, my cause, and make her soft like thee, 
 
 That she in peace may wake and pity me. 
 
 T, Campion 
 
 58s. To Sleep 
 
 /^~~*OME, Sleep; O Sleep! the certain knot of peace, 
 ^^ The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe. 
 The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release, 
 Th' indifferent judge between the high and low; 
 With shield of proof, shield me from out the prease 
 Of those fierce darts Despair at me doth throw: 
 
 make in me those civil wars to cease; 
 
 1 will good tribute pay, if thou do so. 
 
 Take thou of me smooth pillows, sweetest bed, 
 A chamber deaf to noise and blind to Jight, 
 A rosy garland and a weary head: 
 And if these things, as being thine by right. 
 Move not thy heavy grace, thou shalt in me. 
 Livelier than elsewhere, Stella's image see. 
 
 Sir P. Sidney 
 
 S86. Sleep 
 
 )Y him lay heavy Sleep, the cousin of Death, 
 
 B^ 
 
 Flat on the ground, and still as any stone, 
 A very corpse, save yielding forth a breath : 
 Small keep took he, whom Fortune frowned on, 
 592 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Or whom she Hfted up into the throne 
 Of high renown : but as a hving death, 
 So, dead Hve, of Hfe he drew the breath. 
 
 The body's rest, the quiet of the heart, 
 
 The travail's ease, the still night's fear was he, 
 
 And of our life on earth the better part: 
 
 Reaver of sight, and yet in whom we see 
 
 Things oft that tide, and oft that never be- 
 
 Without respect, esteeming equally 
 
 King Croesus' pomp, and Irus' poverty. 
 
 T. Sackville, Lord Buckhurst 
 
 SSy. Two Carols 
 
 I. 
 Bringing in the Boards Head 
 
 Caput Apri Defero, 
 Reddens Laudes Domino! 
 
 ' I ^HE Boar's Head in hand bring I, 
 ^ With garlands gay and rosemary ! 
 I pray you all, sing merrily, 
 Qui estis in convivio. 
 
 The Boar's Head, I understand, 
 Is the chief Service in this land ! 
 Look, wherever it be found, 
 Servite cum cantico! 
 
 593 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Be glad, Lordes, both more and less ! 
 
 For this hath ordained our Steward, 
 To cheer you all this Christmas, 
 
 The Boar's Head with mustard ! 
 
 Anon, 
 
 11. 
 
 ^88. In Die Nativitatis 
 
 Nowellf Now ell! Now ell! Now ell! 
 Tidings good I think to tell! 
 
 nPHE Boar's Head, that we bring here, 
 
 ■^ Betokeneth a Prince without peer 
 Is born this day, to buy us dear ! 
 
 Nowell! Now ell! Now ell! Now ell! etc. 
 
 A Boar is a sovereign beast. 
 
 And acceptable in every feast; 
 
 So mote this Lord be to most and least ! 
 
 Nowell! Nowell! Nowell! Nowell! etc. 
 
 This Boar's head we bring with song, 
 In worship of Him that thus sprang 
 Of a Virgin, to redress all wrong. 
 
 Nowell! Nowell! Nowell! Nowell! etc. 
 
 A 
 
 non. 
 
 S8g. A Christmas Carol 
 
 Tyl 7"HAT sweeter music can we bring 
 
 Than a carol for to sing 
 The birth of this our Heavenly King ? 
 594 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Awake the voice ! awake the string ! 
 Heart, ear, and eye, and everything 
 Awake ! the while the active finger 
 Runs division with the singer. 
 
 , From the Flourish they came to the Song 
 
 1. Dark and dull night fly hence away! 
 And give the honour to this day 
 That sees December turn'd to May. 
 
 2. If we may ask the reason, say 
 
 The why and wherefore all things here 
 Seem like the spring-time of the year. 
 
 3. Why does the chilling winter's morn 
 Smile like a field beset with corn ? 
 Or smell like to a mead new shorn, 
 Thus on a sudden ? 
 
 4. Come and see 
 
 The cause why things thus fragrant be: 
 'Tis He is born, whose quickening birth 
 Gives life and lustre, public mirth. 
 To heaven and the under-earth. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 We see Him come, and know Him ours, 
 Who with his sunshine and his showers 
 Turns all the patient ground to flowers. 
 
 595 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 I. The darling of the world is come, 
 And fit it is we find a room 
 To welcome Him. 
 
 2. The nobler part 
 
 Of all the house here is the heart, 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Which we will give Him; and bequeath 
 This holly and this ivy wreath 
 To do Him honour, who's our King 
 And Lord of all this revelling. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 5po. Ceremonies for Christmas 
 
 /'^OME, bring with a noise, 
 ^^ My merry, merry boys. 
 The Christmas log to the firing 
 
 While my good dame, she 
 
 Bids ye all be free 
 And drink to your heart's desiring. 
 
 With the last year's brand 
 
 Light the new block, and 
 
 For good success in his spending 
 On your psaltries play, 
 That sweet luck may 
 
 Come while the log is a-teending. 
 596 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Drink now the strong beer, 
 
 Cut the white loaf here; 
 The while the meat is a-shredding 
 
 For the rare mince-pie, 
 
 And the plums stand by 
 To fill the paste that's a-kneading. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 Our Blessed Lady^s Lullaby 
 
 T TPON my lap, my Sovereign sits, 
 
 ^^ And sucks upon my breast; 
 
 Meanwhile his love sustains my life, 
 
 And gives my body rest. 
 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy. 
 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 When thou hast taken thy repast, 
 
 Repose, my babe, on me. 
 So may thy mother and thy nurse, 
 Thy cradle also be. 
 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy. 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 I grieve that duty doth not work 
 
 All that my wishing would. 
 Because I would not be to thee 
 But in the best I should. 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy. 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 597 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Yet as I am and as I may, 
 I must and will be thine, 
 Though all too little for thyself 
 Vouchsafing to be mine. 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy. 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 My wits, my words, my deeds, my thoughts, 
 
 And else what is in me, 
 I rather will not wish to use. 
 If not in serving thee. 
 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy, 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 My babe, my bliss, my child, my choice, 
 
 My fruit, my flower, and bud. 
 My Jesus, and my only joy. 
 The sum of all my good. 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy. 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 My sweetness, and the sweetest most 
 
 That heaven could earth deliver. 
 Soul of my love, spirit of my life. 
 Abide with me for ever. 
 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy, 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 Live still with me, and be my love. 
 
 And death will me refrain. 
 Unless thou let me die with thee, 
 To live with thee again. 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy, 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 598 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Leave now to wail, thou luckless wight 
 
 That wrought'st thy race's woe, 
 Redress is found, and foiled is 
 Thy fruit-alluring foe. 
 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy. 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 The fruit of death from Paradise 
 
 Made the exiled mourn; 
 My fruit of life to Paradise 
 Makes joyful thy return. 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy, 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 Grow up, good fruit be nourished by 
 
 These fountains two of me, 
 That only flow with maiden's milk, 
 The only meat for thee. 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy, 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 The earth has now a heaven become, 
 
 And this base bower of mine, 
 A princely palace unto me. 
 My son doth make to shine. 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy. 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 His sight gives clearness to my sight, 
 
 When waking I him see. 
 And sleeping, his mild countenance 
 Gives favour unto me. 
 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy. 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 599 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 When I him in mine arms embrace, 
 
 I feel my heart embraced, 
 Even by the inward grace of his, 
 Which he in me hath placed. 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy, 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 And when I kiss his loving lips, 
 Then his sweet-smelling breath 
 Doth yield a savour to my soul. 
 That feeds love, hope, and faith. 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy, 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 The shepherds left their keeping sheep. 
 
 For joy to see my lamb; 
 How may I more rejoice to see 
 Myself to be the dam. 
 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy. 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 Three kings their treasures hither brought 
 
 Of incense, myrrh, and gold; 
 
 The heaven's treasure, and the king 
 
 That here they might behold. 
 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy. 
 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 One sort an angel did direct, 
 A star did guide the other, 
 And all the fairest son to see 
 That ever had a mother. 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy, 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 600 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 This sight I see, this child I have, 
 
 This infant I embrace, 
 O endless comfort of the earth. 
 And heaven's eternal grace. 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy, 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 Thee sanctity herself doth serve, 
 
 Thee goodness doth attend, 
 Thee blessedness doth v^ait upon. 
 And virtues all commend. 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy. 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 Great kings and prophets wished have 
 
 To see that I possess, 
 Yet wish I never thee to see, 
 If not in thankfulness. 
 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy. 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 Let heaven and earth, and saints and men, 
 
 Assistance give to me, 
 That all their most concurring aid 
 Augment my thanks to thee. 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy, 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 And let the ensuing blessed race, 
 
 Thou wilt succeeding raise. 
 Join all their praises unto mine. 
 To multiply thy praise. 
 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy, 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 60 1 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 And take my service well in worth, 
 
 And Joseph's here with me, 
 Who of my husband bears the name. 
 Thy servant for to be. 
 
 Sing, lullaby, my little boy. 
 Sing, lullaby, my lives joy. 
 
 R. Rowlands 
 
 S92. To His Saviour, a Child: A Present 
 By a Child 
 
 f~^Of pretty child, and bear this flower 
 ^*^ Unto thy little Saviour; 
 And tell Him, by that bud now blown. 
 He is the Rose of Sharon known. 
 When thou hast said so, stick it there 
 Upon His bib or stomacher; 
 And tell Him for good handsel, too. 
 That thou hast brought a whistle new, 
 Made of a clean straight oaten reed. 
 To charm His cries at time of need. 
 Tell Him, for coral, thou hast none. 
 But if thou hadst, He should have one; 
 But poor thou art, and known to be 
 Even as moneyless as He. 
 Lastly, if thou canst win a kiss 
 From those mellifluous lips of His; 
 Then never take a second one, 
 To spoil the first impression. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 602 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 ^g^. The Burning Bahe 
 
 A S I in hoary winter's night 
 ^ ^ Stood shivering in the snow 
 Surprised was I with sudden heat 
 
 Which made my heart to glow; 
 And Hfting up a fearful eye 
 
 To view what fire was near, 
 A pretty babe all burning bright 
 
 Did in the air appear; 
 Who, scorched with excessive heat. 
 
 Such floods of tears did shed 
 As though His floods should quench His flames, 
 
 Which with His tears were fed: 
 
 * Alas ! ' quoth He, ' but newly born 
 
 In fiery heats I fry. 
 Yet none approach to warm their hearts 
 Or feel my fire but I ! 
 
 * My faultless breast the furnace is; 
 
 The fuel, wounding thorns; 
 Love is the fire, and sighs the smoke; 
 
 The ashes, shames and scorns; 
 The fuel Justice layeth on, 
 
 And Mercy blows the coals. 
 The metal in this furnace wrought 
 
 Are men's defiled souls: 
 For which, as now on fire I am 
 
 To work them to their good. 
 So will I melt into a bath. 
 
 To wash them in my blood/ 
 
 603 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 With this He vanish'd out of sight 
 
 And swiftly shrunk away, 
 And straight I called unto mind 
 
 That it was Christmas Day. 
 
 R. Southwell 
 
 5p^. Verses jrom the Shepherds^ Hymn 
 
 '\'\TY. saw thee in Thy balmy nest, 
 
 ^ ^ Young dawn of our eternal day; 
 We saw Thine eyes break from the East, 
 And chase the trembling shades away; 
 We saw Thee, and we blest the sight. 
 We saw Thee by Thine own sweet light. 
 
 Poor world, said I, what wilt thou do 
 To entertain this starry stranger ? 
 
 Is this the best thou canst bestow — 
 A cold and not too cleanly manger ? 
 
 Contend, the powers of heaven and earth, 
 
 To fit a bed for this huge birth. 
 
 Proud world, said I, cease your contest, 
 And let the mighty babe alone, 
 
 The phoenix builds the phoenix' nest, 
 Love's architecture is His own. 
 
 The babe, whose birth embraves this morn, 
 
 Made His own bed ere He was born. 
 
 604 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 I saw the curl'd drops, soft and slow, 
 Come hovering o'er the place's head, 
 
 OflF'ring their whitest sheets of snow, 
 To furnish the fair infant's bed. 
 
 Forbear, said I, be not too bold. 
 
 Your fleece is white, but 'tis too cold. 
 
 I saw th' obsequious seraphim 
 Their rosy fleece of fire bestow. 
 
 For well they now can spare their wings, 
 Since Heaven itself lies here below. 
 
 Well done, said I; but are you sure 
 
 Your down, so warm, will pass for pure ? 
 
 No, no, your King's not yet to seek 
 Where to repose His royal head; 
 
 See, see how soon His new-bloom'd cheek 
 'Twixt mother's breasts is gone to bed. 
 
 Sweet choice, said we, no way but so, 
 
 Not to lie cold, but sleep in snow! 
 
 She sings Thy tears asleep, and dips 
 Her kisses in Thy weeping eye; 
 
 She spreads the red leaves of Thy lips, 
 That in their buds yet blushing lie. 
 
 She 'gainst those mother diamonds tries 
 
 The points of her young eagle's eyes. 
 
 Welcome — tho' not to those gay flies, 
 Gilded i' th' beams of earthly kings. 
 
 605 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Slippery souls in smiling eyes — 
 
 But to poor shepherds, homespun things, 
 Whose wealth's their flocks, whose wit's to be 
 Well read in their simplicity. 
 
 Yet, when young April's husband show'rs 
 Shall bless the fruitful Maia's bed, 
 
 We'll bring the first-born of her flowers, 
 To kiss Thy feet and crown Thy head. 
 
 To Thee, dread Lamb ! whose love must keep 
 
 The shepherds while they feed their sheep. 
 
 To Thee, meek Majesty, soft King 
 Of simple graces and sweet loves! 
 
 Each of us his lamb will bring. 
 Each his pair of silver doves! 
 
 At last, in fire of Thy fair eyes, 
 
 Ourselves become our own best sacrifice! 
 
 R. Crashaw 
 
 595' The New Year's Gift 
 
 T ET others look for pearl and gold, 
 
 Tissues and tabbies manifold: 
 One only lock of that sweet hay 
 Whereon the blessed baby lay. 
 Or one poor swaddling-clout, shall be 
 The richest New Year's gift to me. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 606 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 5g6. Saint John Baptist 
 
 " I ^HE last and greatest Herald of Heaven's King 
 -^ Girt with rough skins, hies to the deserts wild, 
 Among that savage brood the woods forth bring. 
 Which he than man more harmless found, and mild 
 His food was locusts, and what there doth spring 
 With honey that from virgin hives distill'd; 
 Parch'd body, hollow eyes, some uncouth thing 
 Made him appear, long since from earth exiled. 
 There burst he forth : ' All ye whose hopes rely 
 On God, with me amidst these deserts mourn; 
 Repent, repent, and from old errors turn ! ' 
 — Who listen'd to his voice, obey'd his cry ? 
 Only the echoes, which he made relent, 
 Rung from their flinty caves, ' Repent ! Repent ! ' 
 
 W. Drummond 
 
 597' upon the Book and Picture of the 
 Seraphical Saint Teresa 
 
 T IVE in these conquering leaves: live all the same; 
 
 -"^^ And walk through all tongues one triumphant flame; 
 Live here, great heart; and love, and die. and kill: 
 And bleed, and wound, and yield, and conquer still. 
 Let this immortal life where'er it comes 
 Walk in a crowd of loves and martyrdoms. 
 Let mystic deaths wait on't; and wise souls be 
 The love-slain witnesses of this life of thee. 
 O sweet incendiary ! show here thy art, 
 
 607 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Upon this carcase of a hard cold heart; 
 
 Let all thy scatter'd shafts of light, that play 
 
 Among the leaves of thy large books of day, 
 
 Combin'd against this breast at once break in, 
 
 And take away from me myself and sin; 
 
 This gracious robbery shall thy bounty be 
 
 And my best fortunes such fair spoils of me. 
 
 O thou undaunted daughter of desires ! 
 
 By all thy dower of lights and fires; 
 
 By all the eagle in thee, all the dove; 
 
 By all thy lives and deaths of love; 
 
 By thy large draughts of intellectual day, 
 
 And by thy thirsts of love more large than they; 
 
 By all thy brim-filled bowls of fierce desire, 
 
 By thy last morning's draught of liquid fire; 
 
 By the full kingdom of that final kiss 
 
 That seized thy parting soul, and sealed thee His; 
 
 By all the Heav'n thou hast in Him 
 
 (Fair sister of the seraphim!); 
 
 By all of Him we have in thee; 
 
 Leave nothing of myself in me. 
 
 Let me so read thy life, that I 
 
 Unto all life of mine may die ! 
 
 R. Crashaw 
 
 ^g8. To Saint Katherine 
 
 T)ECAUSE thou wast the daughter of a king, 
 -"-^ Whose beauty did all Nature's works exceed, 
 And wisdom wonder to the world did breed, 
 A muse might rouse itself on Cupid's wing; 
 608 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 But, sith the graces which from nature spring 
 
 Were graced by those which from grace did proceed, 
 
 And glory have deserved, my Muse doth need 
 
 An angel's feathers when thy praise I sing. 
 
 For all in thee became angelical : 
 
 An angel's face had angels' purity, 
 
 And thou an angel's tongue didst speak withal; 
 
 Lo ! why thy soul, set free from martyrdom. 
 
 Was crowned by God in angels' company, 
 
 And angels' hands thy body did entomb. 
 
 H. Constable 
 
 5pp. For the Magdalene 
 
 ' ' I ^HESE eyes, dear Lord, once brandons of desire. 
 Frail scouts betraying what they had to keep. 
 Which their own heart, then others set on fire. 
 Their trait'rous black before thee here out-weep; 
 These locks, pf blushing deeds the gilt attire. 
 Waves curling, wrackful shelves to shadow deep, 
 Rings wedding souls to sin's lethargic sleep. 
 To touch thy sacred feet do now aspire. 
 In seas of care behold a sinking bark. 
 By winds of sharp remorse unto thee driven, 
 O let me not be Ruin's aim'd-at mark ! 
 My faults confessed. Lord, say they are forgiven.' 
 Thus sighed to Jesus the Bethanian fair, 
 His tear-wet feet still drying with her hair. 
 
 W. Drummond 
 
 609 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 600, A Hymn to the Name and Honour 
 oj the Admirable Satnt Teresa 
 
 T OVE, thou art absolute, sole Lord 
 -*~^ Of life and death. To prove the word, 
 We'll now appeal to none of all 
 Those thy old soldiers, great and tall, 
 Ripe men of martyrdom, that could reach down 
 With strong arms their triumphant crown: 
 Such as could with lusty breath 
 Speak loud, unto the face of death. 
 Their great Lord's glorious name; to none 
 Of those whose spacious bosoms spread a throne 
 For love at large to fill. Spare blood and sweat: 
 We'll see Him take a private seat, 
 And make His mansion in the mild 
 And milky soul of a soft child. 
 
 Scarce has she learnt to lisp a name 
 Of martyr, yet she thinks it shame 
 Life should so long play with that breath 
 Which spent can buy so brave a death. 
 She never undertook to know 
 What death with love should have to do. 
 Nor has she e'er yet understood 
 Why, to show love, she should shed blood; 
 Yet, though she cannot tell you why, 
 She can love, and she can die. 
 Scarce has she blood enough to make 
 A guilty sword blush for her sake; 
 Yet has a heart dares hope to prove 
 How much less strong is death than love. , . 
 610 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Since 'tis not to be had at home, 
 
 She'll travel for a martyrdom. 
 
 No home for her, confesses she. 
 
 But where she may a martyr be. 
 
 She'll to the Moors, and trade with them 
 
 For this unvalued diadem; 
 
 She offers them her dearest breath. 
 
 With Christ's name in 't, in change for death: 
 
 She'll bargain with them, and will give 
 
 Them God, and teach them how to live 
 
 In Him; or, if they this deny. 
 
 For Him she'll teach them how to die. 
 
 So shall she leave amongst them sown 
 
 Her Lord's blood, or at least her own. 
 
 Farewell then, all the world, adieu ! 
 
 Teresa is no more for you. 
 
 Farewell all pleasures, sports, and joys, 
 
 Never till now esteemed toys ! 
 
 Farewell whatever dear may be — 
 
 Mother's arms, or father's knee ! 
 
 Farewell house, and farewell home ! 
 
 She's for the Moors and Martyrdom. 
 
 Sweet, not so fast; loJ thy fair spouse, 
 Whom thou seek'st with so swift vows. 
 Calls thee back, and bids thee come 
 T' embrace a milder martyrdom. . . • 
 
 O how oft shalt thou complain 
 Of a sweet and subtle pain! 
 Of intolerable joys ! 
 
 6ri 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Of a death, in which who dies 
 
 Loves his death, and dies again, 
 
 And would for ever so be slain; 
 
 And lives and dies, and knows not why 
 
 To live, but that he still may die ! 
 
 How kindly will thy gentle heart 
 
 Kiss the sweetly-killing dart ! 
 
 And close in his embraces keep 
 
 Those delicious wounds, that weep 
 
 Balsam, to heal themselves with thus, 
 
 When these thy deaths, so numerous, 
 
 Shall all at once die' into one, 
 
 And melt thy soul's sweet mansion; 
 
 Like a soft lump of incense, hasted 
 
 By too hot a fire, and wasted 
 
 Into perfuming clouds, so fast 
 
 Shalt thou exhale to heaven at last 
 
 In a resolving sigh, and then, — 
 
 O what ? Ask not the tongues of men. 
 
 Angels cannot tell; suffice. 
 Thyself shalt feel thine own full joys, 
 And hold them fast for e-ver there. 
 So soon as thou shalt first appear, 
 The moon of maiden stars, thy white 
 Mistress, attended by such bright 
 Souls as thy shining self, shall come. 
 And in her first ranks make thee room; 
 Where, 'mongst her snowy family, 
 Immortal welcomes wait for thee. 
 612 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 O what delight, when she shall stand 
 And teach thy lips heaven, with her hand, 
 On which thou now may'st to thy wishes 
 Heap up thy consecrated kisses ! 
 What joy shall seize thy soul, when she, 
 Bending her blessed eyes on thee. 
 Those second smiles of heaven, shall dart 
 Her mild rays through thy melting heart! 
 
 Angels, thy old friends, there shall greet thee, 
 
 Glad at their own home now to meet thee. 
 
 All thy good works which went before. 
 
 And waited for thee at the door. 
 
 Shall own thee there; and all in one 
 
 Weave a constellation 
 
 Of crowns, with which the King, thy spouse, 
 
 Shall build up thy triumphant brows. 
 
 All thy old woes shall now smile on thee, 
 
 And thy pains sit bright upon thee : 
 
 All thy sorrows here shall shine. 
 
 And thy sufferings be divine. 
 
 Tears shall take comfort, and turn gems. 
 
 And wrongs repent to diadems. 
 
 Even thy deaths shall live, and new 
 
 Dress the soul which late they slew. 
 
 Thy wounds shall blush to such bright scars 
 
 As keep account of the Lamb's wars. 
 
 Those, rare works, where thou shalt leave writ 
 Love's noble history, with wit 
 Taught thee by none but Him, while here 
 They feed our souls, shall clothe thine there. 
 
 613 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Each heavenly word by whose hid flame 
 Our hard hearts shall strike fire, the same 
 Shall flourish on thy brows, and be 
 Both fire to us and flame to thee; 
 Whose light shall live bright in thy face 
 By glory, in our hearts by grace. 
 Thou shalt look round about, and see 
 Thousands of crown'd souls throng to be 
 Themselves thy crown, sons of thy vows, 
 Thy virgin-births with which thy spouse 
 Made fruitful thy fair soul; go now. 
 And with them all about thee bow 
 To Him; put on. He'll say, put on. 
 My rosy Love, that thy rich zone, 
 Sparkling with the sacred flames 
 Of thousand souls, whose happy names 
 Heaven keeps upon thy score: thy bright 
 Life brought them first to kiss the light 
 That kindled them to stars; and so 
 Thou with the Lamb, thy Lord, shalt go. 
 And, wheresoe'er He sets His white 
 Steps, walk with Him those ways of light, 
 Which who in death would live to see, 
 Must learn in life to die like thee. 
 
 R. Crashaw 
 
 6oi, The Talent 
 
 /^^RACIOUS, Divine, and most Omnipotent! 
 ^-^^ Receive thy servant's talent in good part, 
 Which hid it not, but willing did convart 
 It to best use he could, when it was lent: 
 614 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 The sum — though slender, yet not all misspent — 
 
 Receive, dear God of grace, from cheerful heart 
 
 Of him that knows how merciful thou art. 
 
 And with what grace to contrite sinners bent. 
 
 I know my fault, I did not as I should; 
 
 My sinful flesh against my soul rebelled; 
 
 But since I did endeavour what I could. 
 
 Let not my little nothing be withheld 
 
 From thy rich treasuries of endless grace; 
 
 But, for thy sake, let it procure a place. 
 
 B. Barnes 
 
 602. To His Ever-Loving God 
 
 /^"^AN I not come to Thee, my God, for these 
 
 — So very-many-meeting hindrances, 
 That slack my pace, but yet not make me stay .? 
 Who slowly goes, rids, in the end, his way. 
 Clear Thou my paths, or shorten Thou my miles, 
 Remove the bars, or lift me o'er the stiles; 
 Since rough the way is, help me when I call, 
 And take me up; or else prevent the fall. 
 I ken my home, and it affords some ease 
 To see far off the smoking villages. 
 Fain would I rest, yet covet not to die 
 For fear of future biting penury: 
 No, no, my God, — Thou know'st my wishes be 
 To leave this life not loving it, but Thee. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 615 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 60S' ^ Hymn to God the Father 
 
 "X "\ riLT Thou forgive that sin, where I begun, 
 
 • * Which was my sin, though it were done before ? 
 Wilt Thou forgive that sin through which I run, 
 
 And do run still, though still I do deplore ? 
 When Thou hast done. Thou hast not done: 
 For I have more. 
 
 Wilt Thou forgive that sin v^^hich I have won 
 Others to sin, and made my sins their door ? 
 
 Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I did shun 
 A year or two, but wallowed in a score ? 
 
 When Thou hast done. Thou hast not done; 
 For I have more. 
 
 I have a sin of fear, that when I've spun 
 
 My last thread, I shall perish on the shore; 
 But swear by Thyself that at my death Thy Son 
 
 Shall shine as He shines now and heretofore: 
 And having done that. Thou hast done; 
 I fear no more. 
 
 y. Donne 
 
 So^f.. The SouVs Haven 
 
 nPHE worldly prince doth in his sceptre hold 
 ^ A kind of heaven in his authorities; 
 The wealthy miser in his mass of gold 
 Makes to his soul a kind of Paradise; 
 6t6 
 
D^ 
 
 ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 The epicure that eats and drinks all day, 
 Accounts no heaven but in his hellish routs; 
 And she whose beauty seems a sunny day, 
 Makes up her heaven but in her baby's clouts. 
 But, my sweet God, I seek no prince's power. 
 No miser's wealth, nor beauty's fading gloss, 
 Which pamper sin, whose sweets are inward sour. 
 And sorry gain that breed the spirit's loss : 
 No, my dear Lord, let my heaven only be 
 In my love's service, but to live to thee. 
 
 N. Breton 
 
 60^. A Litany 
 
 VROP, drop, slow tears. 
 
 And bathe those beauteous feet 
 Which brought from Heaven 
 
 The news and Prince of Peace: 
 Cease not, wet eyes. 
 
 His mercy to entreat: 
 To cry for vengeance 
 
 Sin doth never cease. 
 In your deep floods 
 
 Drown all my faults and fears; 
 Nor let His eye 
 
 See sin, but through my tears. 
 
 P. Fletcher 
 
 606. His Pilgrimage 
 
 /'"^IVE me my scallop-shell of quiet, 
 ^-^ My staff" of faith to walk upon, 
 My scrip of joy, immortal diet, 
 My bottle of salvation, 
 
 617 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 My gown of glory, hope's true gage; 
 And thus I'll take my pilgrimage. 
 
 Blood must be my body's balmer; 
 
 No other balm will there be given; 
 Whilst my soul, like quiet palmer, 
 
 Travelleth towards the land of heaven; 
 Over the silver mountains. 
 Where spring the nectar fountains. 
 There will I kiss 
 The bowl of bliss; 
 And drink mine everlasting fill 
 Upon every milken hill. 
 My soul will be a-dry before; 
 But after it will thirst no more. 
 
 Then by that happy, blissful day, 
 
 More peaceful pilgrims I shall see, 
 That have cast off their rags of clay. 
 
 And walk apparelled fresh like me. 
 
 I'll take them first 
 
 To quench their thirst 
 And taste of nectar suckets. 
 
 At those clear wells 
 
 Where sweetness dwells. 
 Drawn up by saints in crystal buckets. 
 
 And when our bottles and all we 
 Are filled with immortality. 
 Then the blessed paths we'll travel, 
 Strowed with rubies thick as gravel; 
 6i8 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Ceilings of diamonds, sapphire floors, 
 
 High walls of coral and pearly bowers, 
 
 From thence to heaven's bribeless hall, 
 
 Where no corrupted voices brawl; 
 
 No conscience molten into gold. 
 
 No forged accuser bought or sold. 
 
 No cause deferred, no vain-spent journey, 
 
 For there Christ is the king's Attorney, 
 
 Who pleads for all without degrees. 
 
 And he hath angels, but no fees. 
 
 And when the grand twelve-million jury 
 
 Of our sins, with direful fury. 
 
 Against our souls black verdicts give, 
 
 Christ pleads his death, and then we live. 
 
 Be thou my speaker, taintless pleader, 
 
 Unblotted lawyer, true proceeder ! 
 
 Thou givest salvation even for alms; 
 
 Not with a bribed lawyer's palms. 
 
 And this is mine eternal plea 
 
 To him that made heaven, earth, and sea, 
 
 That, since my flesh must die so soon, 
 
 And want a head to dine next noon. 
 
 Just at the stroke, when my veins start and spread, 
 
 Set on my soul an everlasting head ! 
 
 Then am I ready, like a palmer fit. 
 
 To tread those blest paths which before I writ. 
 
 Of death and judgment, heaven and hell. 
 Who oft doth think, must needs die well. 
 
 Sir W. Raleigh 
 619 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 do'/. Litany to the Holy Spirit 
 
 TN the hour of my distress, 
 ■^ When temptations me oppress, 
 And when I my sins confess. 
 Sweet Spirit, comfort me! 
 
 When I lie within my bed. 
 Sick in heart and sick in head, 
 And with doubts discomforted. 
 Sweet Spirit, comfort me! 
 
 When the house doth sigh and weep. 
 And the world is drown'd in sleep, 
 Yet mine eyes the watch do keep, 
 Sweet Spirit, comfort me ! 
 
 When the passing bell doth toll. 
 And the furies in a shoal 
 Come to fright a parting soul. 
 Sweet Spirit, comfort me ! 
 
 When the tapers now burn blue, 
 And the comforters are few, 
 And that number more than true. 
 Sweet Spirit, comfort me ! 
 
 When the priest his last hath pray*d. 
 And I nod to what is said, 
 'Cause my speech is now decayed. 
 Sweet Spirit, comfort me! 
 620 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 When, God knows, I'm toss'd about 
 Either with despair or doubt; 
 Yet before the glass be out, 
 Sweet Spirit, comfort me! 
 
 When the tempter me pursu'th 
 With the sins of all my youth, 
 And half-damns me with untruth, 
 Sweet Spirit, comfort me ! 
 
 When the flames and hellish cries 
 Fright mine ears and fright mine eyes, 
 And all terrors me surprise. 
 Sweet Spirit, comfort me ! 
 
 When the judgment is reveal'd, 
 And that open'd which was seal'd, 
 When to Thee I have appeal'd. 
 Sweet Spirit, comfort me ! 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 608. Forsake Thyself, to Heaven Turn 
 Thee 
 
 nPHE earth, with thunder torn, with fire blasted, 
 ^ With waters drowned, with windy palsy shaken. 
 Cannot for this with heaven be distasted. 
 
 Since thunder, rain, and winds from earth are taken. 
 Man, torn with love, with inward furies blasted, 
 
 Drowned with despair, with fleshly lustings shaken. 
 Cannot for this with heaven be distasted: 
 Love, fury, lustings out of man are taken. 
 
 621 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Then man, endure thyself, those clouds will vanish. 
 
 Life is a top which whipping Sorrow driveth. 
 Wisdom must bear what our flesh cannot banish, 
 
 The humble lead, the stubborn bootless striveth : 
 Or, man, forsake thyself, to heaven turn thee. 
 Her flames enlighten nature, never burn thee. 
 
 F. GrevilUy Lord Brooke 
 
 60 g. To Music Bent Is My Retired Mind 
 
 'T^O music bent is my retired mind 
 -^ And fain would I some song of pleasure sing, 
 But in vain joys no comfort now I find; 
 From heavenly thoughts all true delight doth spring; 
 Thy power, O God, Thy mercies to record, 
 Will sweeten every note and every word. 
 
 All earthly pomp or beauty to express 
 
 Is but to carve in snow, in waves to write; 
 
 Celestial things, though men conceive them less, 
 
 Yet fullest are they in themselves of light : 
 
 Such beams they yield as know no means to die. 
 
 Such heat they cast as lifts the spirit high. 
 
 T. Campion 
 
 610. A Dialogue 
 
 Man. OWEETEST Saviour, if my soul 
 "^ Were but worth the having, 
 
 Quickly should I then control 
 Any thought of waving. 
 
 622 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 But when all my care and pains 
 Cannot give the name of gains 
 To Thy wretch so full of stains, 
 What delight or hope remains ? 
 
 Saviour. What, child, is the balance thine, 
 Thine the poise and measure ? 
 
 If I say, * Thou shalt be Mine,' 
 Finger not my treasure. 
 
 What the gains in having thee 
 
 Do amount to, only He 
 
 Who for man was sold can see; 
 
 That transferred th' accounts to Me. 
 
 Man. But as I can see no merit 
 
 Leading to this favour. 
 So the way to fit me for it 
 
 Is beyond my savour! 
 As the reason, then, is Thine, 
 So the way is none of mine; 
 I disclaim the whole design; 
 Sin disclaims and I resign. 
 
 Saviour. That is all : if that I could 
 
 Get without repining; 
 And My clay. My creature, would 
 
 Follow My resigning; 
 That as I did freely part 
 With My glory and desert. 
 Left all joys to feel all smart — 
 
 Man. Ah, no more ! Thou break'st my heart ! 
 
 G. Herbert 
 623 
 

 THE BOOK OF 
 6ii, Discipline 
 
 TTHROW away Thy rod, 
 -^ Throw away Thy wrath; 
 
 my God, 
 Take the gentle path. 
 
 For my heart's desire 
 Unto Thine is bent; 
 
 1 aspire 
 
 To a full consent. 
 
 Not a word or look 
 I affect to own, 
 
 But by book. 
 And Thy Book alone. 
 
 Though I fail, I weep; 
 Though I halt in pace, 
 
 Yet I creep 
 To the throne of grace. 
 
 Then let wrath remove; 
 Love will do the deed; 
 
 For with love 
 Stony hearts will bleed. 
 
 Love is swift of foot; 
 Love's a man of war. 
 
 And can shoot. 
 And can hit from far. 
 624 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Who can 'scape his bow? 
 That which wrought on Thee, 
 
 Brought Thee low, 
 Needs must work on me. 
 
 Throw away Thy rod; 
 Though man fraihies hath, 
 
 Thou art God : 
 Throw away Thy wrath ! 
 
 G. Herbert 
 
 6i2 An Ecstasy 
 
 Tj^'EN Hke two little bank-dividing brooks, 
 -'— ' That wash the pebbles with their wanton streams. 
 And having ranged and search'd a thousand nooks, 
 Meet both at length in silver-breasted Thames, 
 Where in a greater current they conjoin : 
 So I my Best-beloved's am; so He is mine. 
 
 E'en so we met; and after long pursuit, 
 E'en so we joined; we both became entire; 
 
 No need for either to renew a suit. 
 
 For I was flax, and He was flames of fire: 
 Our firm-united souls did more than twine; 
 
 So I my Best-beloved's am; so He is mine. 
 
 If all those glittering Monarchs, that command 
 
 The servile quarters of this earthly ball. 
 Should tender in exchange their shares of land, 
 I would not change my fortunes for them all . 
 Their wealth is but a counter to my coin : 
 The world's but theirs; but my Beloved's mine. 
 
 F. Quarles 
 625 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 <5/j. O Come Quickly 
 
 IVJEVER weather-beaten sail more willing bent to shore, 
 ^ ^ Never tired pilgrim's limbs affected slumber more, 
 
 Than my wearied sprite now longs to fly out of my troubled 
 breast : 
 
 O come quickly, sweetest Lord, and take my soul to rest ! 
 
 Ever blooming are the joys of heaven's high Paradise, 
 Cold age deafs not there our ears nor vapour dims our 
 
 eyes: 
 Glory there the sun outshines; whose beams the Blessed 
 
 only see: 
 O come quickly, glorious Lord, and raise my sprite to 
 
 Thee! 
 
 T. Campion 
 
 614. The White Island 
 
 TN this world, the Isle of Dreams, 
 -^ While we sit by sorrow's streams, 
 Tears and terror are our themes 
 Reciting : 
 
 But when once from hence we fly, 
 More and more approaching nigh 
 Unto young Eternity 
 Uniting : 
 
 In that whiter island, where 
 Things are evermore sincere; 
 Candour here, and lustre there 
 Delighting : 
 626 
 
1 
 
 ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 — There no monstrous fancies shall 
 Out of Hell an horror call, 
 To create (or cause at all) 
 Affrighting. 
 
 There in calm and cooling sleep 
 We our eyes shall never steep; 
 But eternal watch shall keep 
 Attending 
 
 Pleasures such as shall pursue 
 Me immortalised, and you; 
 And fresh joys, as never too 
 Have ending. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 6i^. If I Could Shut the Gate Against 
 My Thoughts 
 
 TF I could shut the gate against my thoughts 
 ■^ And keep out sorrow from this room within, 
 Or memory could cancel all the notes 
 
 Of my misdeeds, and I unthink my sin : 
 How free, how clear, how clean my soul should lie, 
 Discharged of such a loathsome company ! 
 
 Or were there other rooms without my heart 
 That did not to my conscience join so near. 
 
 Where I might lodge the thoughts of sin apart 
 That I might not their clam'rous crying hear; 
 
 What peace, what joy, what ease should I possess, 
 
 Freed from their horrors that my soul oppress! 
 
 627 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 But, O my Saviour, who my refuge art, 
 
 Let Thy dear mercies stand 'twixt them and me, 
 
 And be the wall to separate my heart 
 So that I may at length repose me free; 
 
 That peace, and joy, and rest may be within. 
 
 And I remain divided from my sin. 
 
 J. Daniel 
 
 6i6. F raise and Prayer 
 
 T3RAISE is devotion fit for mighty minds, 
 -*- The diff'ring world's agreeing sacrifice; 
 Where Heaven divided faiths united finds : 
 But Prayer in various discord upward flies. 
 
 For Prayer the ocean is where diversely 
 
 Men steer their course, each to a several coast; 
 
 Where all our interests so discordant be 
 
 That half beg winds by which the rest are lost. 
 
 By Penitence when we ourselves forsake, 
 'Tis but in wise design on piteous Heaven; 
 
 In Praise we nobly give what God may take. 
 And are, without a beggar's blush, forgiven. 
 
 Sir W. Davenant 
 
 Siy. The Collar 
 
 T STRUCK the board and cried. No more; 
 ■^ I will abroad. 
 What, shall I ever sigh and pine ? 
 My lines and life are free, free as the road, 
 Loose as the wind, as large as store. 
 628 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Shall I be still in suit ? 
 Have I no harvest but a thorn 
 To let me blood, and not restore 
 What I have lost with cordial fruit ? 
 
 Sure there was wine 
 Before my sighs did dry it; there was corn 
 Before my tears did drown it. 
 Is the year only lost to me ? 
 Have I no bays to crown it ? 
 No flowers, no garlands gay ? All blasted ? 
 
 All wasted ? 
 Not so, my heart; but there is fruit, 
 
 And thou hast hands. 
 Recover all thy sigh-blown age 
 On double pleasure: leave thy cold dispute 
 Of what is fit and not; forsake thy cage. 
 
 Thy rope of sands 
 Which petty thoughts have made, and made to thee 
 Good cable to enforce and draw 
 
 And be thy law. 
 While thou didst wink and wouldst not see. 
 Away: take heed, 
 I will abroad. 
 Call in thy death's-head there: tie up thy fears. 
 He that forbears 
 To suit and serve his need 
 Deserves his load. 
 But as I raved and grew more fierce and wild 
 
 At every word, 
 Methought I heard one calling * Child! * 
 And I replied ' My Lord! ' 
 
 G. Herbert 
 629 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 6i8. The Flower 
 
 TTOW fresh, O Lord, how sweet and clean 
 
 -"" -"- Are thy returns ! Ev'n as the flowers in Spring, 
 
 To which, besides their own demean, 
 The late-past frosts tributes of pleasure bring; 
 Grief melts away 
 Like snow in May, 
 As if there were no such cold thing. 
 
 Who would have thought my shrivell'd heart 
 Could have recover'd greenness ? It was gone 
 
 Quite under ground; as flowers depart 
 To see their mother-root, when they have blown, 
 Where they together 
 All the hard weather. 
 Dead to the world, keep house unknown. 
 
 These are Thy wonders. Lord of power. 
 Killing and quick'ning, bringing down to Hell 
 
 And up to Heaven in an hour; 
 Making a chiming of a passing bell. 
 We say amiss 
 This or that is; 
 Thy word is all, if we could spell. 
 
 O that I once past changing were, 
 Fast in thy Paradise where no flower can wither! 
 
 Many a Spring I shoot up fair, 
 Off''ring at Heaven, growing and groaning thither; 
 Nor doth my flower 
 Want a Spring shower. 
 My sins and I joining together. 
 630 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 But while I grow in a straight Hne, 
 Still upwards bent, as if Heaven were mine own, 
 
 Thy anger comes, and I decline; 
 
 What frost to that ? What pole is not the zone 
 
 Where all things burn. 
 
 When Thou dost turn, 
 
 And the least frown of Thine is shown ? 
 
 And now in age I bud again. 
 After so many deaths I live and write; 
 I once more smell the dew and rain, 
 And relish versing : O my only Light ! 
 — It cannot be 
 That I am he 
 On whom Thy tempests fell all night. 
 
 These are Thy wonders. Lord of love. 
 To make us see we are but flowers that glide; 
 
 Which when we once can find and prove. 
 Thou hast a garden for us where to bide. 
 Who would be more, 
 Swelling through store. 
 Forfeit their Paradise by their pride. 
 
 G. Herbert 
 
 6ig. Guests 
 
 'V/'ET if His Majesty, our sovereign lord, 
 Should of his own accord 
 Friendly himself invite. 
 And say, * I'll be your guest to-morrow night,' 
 How should we stir ourselves, call and command 
 All hands to work ! ' Let no man idle stand. 
 
 631 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 * Set me fine Spanish tables in the hall. 
 
 See they be fitted all; 
 
 Let there be room to eat, 
 And order taken that there want no meat. 
 See every sconce and candlestick made bright, 
 That without tapers they may give a light. 
 
 * Look to the presence : are the carpets spread. 
 
 The dazie o'er the head, 
 
 The cushions in the chairs. 
 And all the candles lighted on the stairs ? 
 Perfume the chambers, and in any case 
 Let each man give attendance in his place ! * 
 
 Thus, if the king were coming, would we do. 
 
 And 'twere good reason too; 
 
 For 'tis a duteous thing 
 To show all honour to an earthly king. 
 And after all our travail and our cost, 
 So he be pleased, to think no labour lost. 
 
 But at the coming of the King of Heaven 
 
 All's set at six and seven : 
 
 We wallow in our sin, 
 Christ cannot find a chamber in the inn. 
 We entertain Him always like a stranger. 
 And, as at first, still lodge Him in a manger. 
 
 Christ Church MS. 
 
 632 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 620, In Time of Plague 
 
 A DIEU ! farewell earth's bliss, 
 •^ ^ This world uncertain is; 
 Fond are life's lustful joys, 
 Death proves them all but toys. 
 None from his darts can fly: 
 I am sick, I must die — 
 Lord have mercy on us! 
 
 Rich men, trust not in wealth, 
 Gold cannot buy you health; 
 Physic himself must fade; 
 All things to end are made; 
 The plague full swift goes by; 
 I am sick, I must die — 
 Lord have mercy on us! 
 
 Beauty is but a flower 
 Which wrinkles will devour: 
 Brightness falls from the air; 
 Queens have died young and fair; 
 Dust hath closed Helen's eye: 
 I am sick, I must die — 
 
 Strength stoops unto the grave. 
 Worms feed on Hector brave: 
 Swords may not fight with fate: 
 Earth still holds ope her gate. 
 
 ^33 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Come! come! the bells do cry: 
 I am sick, I must die — 
 
 Lord have mercy on us! 
 
 Wit with his wantonness 
 Tasteth death's bitterness: 
 Hell's executioner 
 Hath no ears for to hear 
 What vain art can reply; 
 I am sick, I must die — 
 Lord have mercy on us! 
 
 Haste therefore each degree 
 To welcome destiny : 
 Heaven is our heritage. 
 Earth but a player's stage. 
 Mount we unto the sky: 
 I am sick, I must die — 
 Lord have mercy on us! 
 
 T. Nashe 
 
 621. Most Glorious Lord 0} Life, That 
 On This Day 
 
 A /TOST glorious Lord of Life, that on this day 
 ''■-'■ Didst make Thy triumph over death and sin, 
 And having harrow'd hell, 'didst bring away 
 Captivity thence captive, us to win: 
 This joyous day, dear Lord, with joy begin. 
 And grant that we, for whom Thou diddest die, 
 634 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Being with Thy dear blood clean wash'd from sin, 
 
 May live for ever in felicity: 
 
 And that Thy love we weighing worthily, 
 
 May likewise love Thee for the same again; 
 
 And for Thy sake, that all like dear didst buy. 
 
 With love may one another entertain. 
 
 So let us love, dear Love, like as we ought, 
 
 — Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught. 
 
 E. Spenser 
 
 622. Christ Crucified 
 
 ' I ^HY restless feet now cannot go 
 -*- For us and our eternal good. 
 As they were ever wont. What though 
 They swim, alas ! in their own flood ? 
 
 Thy hands to give Thou canst not lift. 
 Yet will Thy hand still giving be; 
 
 It gives, but O, itself's the gift! 
 
 It gives tho' bound, tho' bound 'tis free! 
 
 R. Crashaw 
 
 62 J. Easter Song 
 
 T GOT me flowers to strew Thy way, 
 -*■ I got me boughs off" many a tree; 
 But Thou wast up by break of day. 
 
 And brought' St Thy sweets along with Thee. 
 
 The sun arising in the East, 
 
 Though he give light and th' East perfume, 
 If they should off'er to contest 
 
 With Thy arising, they presume. 
 
 635 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Can there be any day but this, 
 
 Though many suns to shine endeavour ? 
 
 We count three hundred, but we miss: 
 There is but one, and that one ever. 
 
 G. Herbert 
 
 624. 
 
 /^ NO, Belov'd: I am most sure 
 ^-^ These virtuous habits we acquire 
 
 As being with the soul entire 
 Must with it ever more endure. 
 
 Else should our souls in vain elect; 
 And vainer yet were Heaven's laws, 
 When to an everlasting cause 
 
 They give a perishing effect. 
 
 These eyes again thine eyes shall see, 
 These hands again thine hand enfold, 
 And all chaste blessings can be told 
 
 Shall with us everlasting be. 
 
 For if no use of sense remain 
 When bodies once this life forsake, 
 Or they could no delight partake. 
 
 Why should they ever rise again ^. 
 
 And if ev'ry imperfect mind 
 
 Make love the end of knowledge here, 
 How perfect will our love be where 
 All imperfection is refined ! 
 636 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 So when from hence we shall be gone, 
 And be no more nor you nor I; 
 As one another's mystery 
 
 Each shall be both, yet both but one. 
 
 Edward^ Lord Herbert of Cherhury 
 
 625. The New Jerusalem 
 
 TJIERUSALEM, my happy home, 
 -*- -*" When shall I come to thee ? 
 When shall my sorrows have an end ? 
 Thy joys when shall I see ? 
 
 O happy harbour of the Saints ! 
 O sweet and pleasant soil ! 
 « In thee no sorrow may be found, 
 No grief, no care, no toil. 
 
 There lust and lucre cannot dwell. 
 
 There envy bears no sway; 
 There is no hunger, heat, nor cold, 
 
 But pleasure every way. 
 
 Thy walls are made of precious stones. 
 Thy bulwarks diamonds square; 
 
 Thy gates are of right orient pearl. 
 Exceeding rich and rare. 
 
 Thy turrets and thy pinnacles 
 
 With carbuncles do shine; 
 Thy very streets are paved with gold. 
 
 Surpassing clear and fine. 
 
 637 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Ah, my sweet home, Hierusalem, 
 
 Would God I were in thee! 
 Would God my woes were at an end, . 
 
 Thy joys that I might see! 
 
 Thy gardens and thy gallant walks 
 
 Continually are green; 
 There grows such sweet and pleasant flowers 
 
 As nowhere else are seen. 
 
 Quite through the streets, with silver sound. 
 
 The flood of Life doth flow; 
 Upon whose banks on every side 
 
 The wood of Life doth grow. 
 
 There trees for evermore bear fruit, 
 
 And evermore do spring; 
 There evermore the angels sit, 
 
 And evermore do sing. 
 
 Our Lady sings Magnificat 
 
 With tones surpassing sweet; 
 And all the virgins bear their part. 
 
 Sitting about her feet. 
 
 Hierusalem, my happy home. 
 Would God I were in thee ! 
 Would God my woes were at an end, 
 Thy joys that I might see ! 
 
 Anon, 
 638 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 626. Epigram 
 
 Respice Ftnem 
 
 1\ yTY soul, sit thou a patient looker-on; 
 ^^ ^ Judge not the play before the play is done: 
 Her plot hath many changes; every day 
 Speaks a new scene; the last act crowns the play 
 
 F. Quarles 
 
 62/. What Doth It Serve to See Sim^s 
 Burning Face 
 
 "X T 7HAT doth it serve to see Sun's burning face, 
 * ^ And skies enamelled with both Indies' gold ? 
 Or moon at night in jetty chariot rolled, 
 And all the glory of that starry place ? 
 What doth it serve earth's beauty to behold, — 
 The mountains' pride, the meadows' flowery grace. 
 The stately comeliness of forests old. 
 The sport of floods which would themselves embrace ? 
 What doth it serve to hear the sylvans' songs. 
 The wanton merle, the nightingale's sad strains. 
 Which in dark shades seem to deplore my wrongs ? — 
 For what doth serve all that this world contains ? — 
 Sith she for whom those once to me were dear 
 No part of them can have now with me here! 
 
 fF. Drummond 
 
 639, 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 628, Aspatia^s Song 
 
 T AY a garland on my hearse 
 ^ — ' Of the dismal yew; 
 Maidens, willow branches bear; 
 Say, I died true. 
 
 My love was false, but I was firm 
 From my hour of birth. 
 
 Upon my buried body lie 
 Lightly, gentle earth ! 
 
 J. Fletcher 
 
 62 g. Ophelia's Song 
 
 TTOW should I your true love know 
 •*- -*■ From another one ? 
 By his cockle hat and staflp, 
 And his sandal shoon. 
 
 He is dead and gone, lady, 
 
 He is dead and gone; 
 At his head a grass-green turf, 
 
 At his heels a stone. 
 
 White his shroud as the mountain snow, 
 
 Larded with sweet flowers. 
 Which bewept to the grave did go 
 
 With true-love showers. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 640 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 6^0. Valediction^ Forbidding Mourning 
 
 A S virtuous men pass mildly away, 
 -^^^ And whisper to their souls to go; 
 While some of their sad friends do say, 
 Now his breath goes, and some say, No; 
 
 So let us melt, and make no noise. 
 
 No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move; 
 
 'Twere profanation of our joys 
 To tell the laity our love. 
 
 Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears. 
 Men reckon what it did and meant; 
 
 But trepidations of the spheres, 
 Though greater far, are innocent. 
 
 Dull sublunary lovers' love. 
 
 Whose soul is sense, cannot admit 
 
 Absence; for that it doth remove 
 Those things which elemented it. 
 
 But we, by a love so far refined. 
 That ourselves know not what it is. 
 
 Inter-assured of the mind. 
 
 Careless, eyes, lips and hands to miss, 
 
 — Our two souls therefore, which are one, 
 Though I must go, endure not yet 
 
 A breach, but an expansion. 
 Like gold to airy thinness beat. 
 
 641 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 If they be two, they are two so 
 
 As stiff twin compasses are two; 
 Thy soul, the jfixt foot, makes no show 
 
 To move, but doth if th' other do. 
 
 And though it in the centre sit, 
 Yet when the other far doth roam, 
 
 It leans and hearkens after it, 
 
 And grows erect as that comes home. 
 
 Such wilt thou be to me, who must, 
 Like th' other foot, obliquely run; 
 
 Thy firmness makes my circles just, 
 And makes me end where I begun. 
 
 J. Donne 
 
 6ji. Death's Emissaries 
 
 T riCTORIOUS men of earth, no more 
 * Proclaim how wide your empires are; 
 
 Though you bind on every shore 
 And your triumphs reach as far 
 
 As night or day. 
 Yet you, proud monarchs, must obey 
 
 And mingle with forgotten ashes, when 
 
 Death calls ye to the crowd of common men. 
 
 Devouring Famine, Plague, and War, 
 
 Each able to undo mankind. 
 Death's servile emissaries are; 
 
 Nor to these alone confined, 
 642 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 He hath at will 
 More quaint and subtle ways to kill; 
 A smile or kiss, as he will use the art, 
 Shall have the cunning skill to break a heart. 
 
 J. Shirley 
 
 6j2, Death the Leveller 
 
 ' I ''HE glories of our blood and state 
 -*- Are shadows, not substantial things; 
 There is no armour against Fate; 
 Death lays his icy hand on kings: 
 Sceptre and Crown 
 Must tumble down, 
 And in the dust be equal made 
 With the poor crooked scythe and spade. 
 
 Some men with swords may reap the field, 
 
 And plant fresh laurels where they kill: 
 But their strong nerves at last must yield; 
 They tame but one another still: 
 Early or late 
 They stoop to fate. 
 And must give up their murmuring breath 
 When they, pale captives, creep to death. 
 
 The garlands wither on your brow; 
 
 Then boast no more your mighty deeds; 
 Upon Death's purple altar now 
 
 See where the victor-victim bleeds. 
 
 643 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Your heads must come 
 
 To the cold tomb : 
 Only the actions of the just 
 Smell sweet and blossom in their dust. 
 
 J. Shirley 
 
 633. Death, Be Not Proud 
 
 T^EATH, be not proud, though some have called thee 
 ^^ Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; 
 For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow 
 Die not, poor Death; nor yet canst thou kill me. 
 From rest and sleep, which but thy picture be. 
 Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow: 
 And soonest our best men with thee do go. 
 Rest of their bones, and souls' delivery. 
 Thou art slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men. 
 And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell. 
 And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well. 
 And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou, then? 
 One short sleep past, we wake eternally. 
 And Death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die. 
 
 J. Donne 
 
 634. Echoes Dirge for Narcissus 
 
 OLOW, slow, fresh fount, keep time with my salt tears; 
 ^^ Yet slower, yet; O faintly, gentle springs! 
 List to the heavy part the music bears, 
 
 Woe weeps out her division when she sings. 
 644 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Droop herbs and flowers; 
 Fall grief in showers; 
 Our beauties are not ours: 
 O, I could still, 
 Like melting snow upon some craggy hill, 
 
 Drop, drop, drop, drop, 
 Since Nature's pride is now a withered daffodil. 
 
 B. Jonson 
 
 6j^. A Lovefs Dirge 
 
 /^^OME away, come away, death, 
 ^^-^ And in sad cypress let me be laid; 
 
 Fly away, fly away, breath; 
 I am slain by a fair cruel maid. 
 My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, 
 
 O prepare it! 
 My part of death, no one so true 
 
 Did share it. 
 
 Not a flower, not a flower sweet. 
 On my black coffin let there be strown; 
 
 Not a friend, not a friend greet 
 My poor corse, where my bones shall be thrown i 
 A thousand thousand sighs to save. 
 
 Lay me, O, where 
 Sad true lover never find my grave 
 To weep there! 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 645 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 6j6. Robin Hood's Dirge 
 
 "X ^TEEP, weep, ye woodmen, wail, 
 
 ^ ^ Your hands with sorrow wring; 
 Your master Robin Hood Hes dead, 
 Therefore sigh as you sing. 
 
 Here lies his primer and his beads. 
 His bent bow and his arrows keen, 
 
 His good sword and his holy cross: 
 Now cast on flowers fresh and green. 
 
 And, as they fall, shed tears and say 
 Well-a, well-a-day, well-a, well-a-day: 
 
 Thus cast ye flowers fresh and sing. 
 And on to Wakefield take your way. 
 
 J. Munday and H. Chettle 
 
 6jy. A Land Dirge 
 
 /^^ALL for the robin-redbreast and the wren, 
 
 ^-^ Since o'er shady groves they hover, 
 
 And with leaves and flowers do cover 
 
 The friendless bodies of unburied men. 
 
 Call unto his funeral dole 
 
 The ant, the field-mouse, and the mole. 
 
 To rear him hillocks that shall keep him warm. 
 
 And (when gay tombs are robbed) sustain no harm; 
 
 But keep the wolf far thence, that's foe to men, 
 
 For with his nails he'll dig them up again. 
 
 J. Webster 
 646 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 6j8. A Sea Dirge 
 
 "C^ULL fathom five thy father lies; 
 -'- Of his bones are coral made; 
 Those are pearls that were his eyes: 
 
 Nothing of him that doth fade, 
 But doth suffer a sea-change 
 Into something rich and strange. 
 Sea nymphs hourly ring his knell: 
 Ding-dong. 
 Hark! now I hear them, — 
 Ding-dong, bell! 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 6jg. The Shrouding of the Duchess of 
 Malfi 
 
 TTARK! Now everything is still, 
 
 ^ ^ The screech-owl and the whistler shrill, 
 
 Call upon our dame aloud, 
 
 And bid her quickly don her shroud ! 
 
 Much you had of land and rent; 
 Your length in clay's now competent: 
 A long war disturb'd your mind; 
 Here your perfect peace is sign'd. 
 
 Of what is't fools make such vain keeping ? 
 Sin their conception, their birth weeping. 
 Their life a general mist of error. 
 Their death a hideous storm of terror. 
 
 647 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Strew your hair with powders sweet, 
 
 Don clean hnen, bathe your feet, 
 
 And — the foul fiend more to check — 
 
 A crucifix let bless your neck: 
 
 'Tis now full tide 'tween night and day; 
 
 End your groan and come away. 
 
 J. Webster 
 
 640. The Funeral 
 
 "\ "X rnOEVER comes to shroud me, do not harm 
 
 * ' Nor question much 
 That subtle wreath of hair about mine arm; 
 The mystery, the sign, you must not touch. 
 
 For 'tis my outward soul, 
 Viceroy to that which, unto heaven being gone. 
 
 Will leave this to control 
 And keep these limbs, her provinces, from dissolution. 
 
 For if the sinewy thread my brain lets fall 
 
 Through every part. 
 Can tie those parts, and make me one of all; 
 Those hairs, which upward grow, and strength and art 
 
 Have from a better brain. 
 Can better do 't: except she meant that I 
 
 By this should know my pain, 
 As prisoners then are manacled, when they're condemn'd 
 to die. 
 
 Whate'er she meant by it, bury it with me, 
 
 For since I am 
 Love's martyr, it might breed idolatry 
 If into other hands these reliques came. 
 648 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 As *twas humility 
 T' afford to it all that a soul can do, 
 
 So 'tis some bravery 
 That, since you would have none of me, I bury some of you. 
 
 'J. Donne 
 
 641. On the Tombs in Westminster 
 A bbey 
 
 A/rORTALITY, behold and fear! 
 
 It J. What a change of flesh is here! 
 
 Think how many royal bones 
 
 Sleep within these heaps of stones ! 
 
 Here they lie had realms and lands. 
 
 Who now want strength to stir their hands: 
 
 Where from their pulpits seal'd with dust 
 
 They preach, ' In greatness is no trust.' 
 
 Here's an acre sown indeed 
 
 With the richest royall'st seed 
 
 That the earth did e'er suck in 
 
 Since the first man died for sin: 
 
 Here the bones of birth have cried 
 
 * Though gods they were, as men they died ! ' 
 
 Here are sands, ignoble things, 
 
 Dropt from ruin'd sides of kings : 
 
 Here's a world of pomp and state 
 
 Buried in dust, once dead by fate. 
 
 F. Beaumont 
 
 649 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 642. The Phoenix and the Turtle 
 
 T ET the bird of loudest lay, 
 -*-^ On the sole Arabian tree, 
 Herald sad and trumpet be, 
 To whose sound chaste wings obey. 
 
 But thou shrieking harbinger. 
 Foul precurrer of the fiend, 
 Augur of the fever's end. 
 To this troop come thou not near! 
 
 From this session interdict 
 Every fowl of tyrant wing. 
 Save the eagle, feathered king: 
 Keep the obsequy so strict. 
 
 Let the priest in surplice white, 
 That defunctive music can, 
 Be the death-divining swan, 
 Lest the requiem lack his right. 
 
 And thou treble-dated crow. 
 
 That thy sable gender makest 
 
 With the breath thou giv'st and takest, 
 
 *Mongst our mourners shalt thou go. 
 
 Here the anthem doth commence; 
 Love and constancy is dead; 
 Phcenix and the turtle fled 
 In a mutual flame from hence. 
 650 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 So they loved, as love in twain 
 Had the essence but in one; 
 Two distincts, division none: 
 Number there in love was slain. 
 
 Hearts remote, yet not asunder; 
 Distance, and no space was seen 
 Twixt the turtle and his queen: 
 But in them it were a wonder. 
 
 So between them love did shine. 
 That the turtle saw his right 
 Flaming in the phoenix' sight; 
 Either was the other's mine. 
 
 Property was thus appalled, 
 That the self was not the same; 
 Single nature's double name 
 Neither two nor one was called. 
 
 Reason, in itself confounded, 
 Saw division grow together. 
 To themselves yet either neither, 
 Simple were so well compounded, 
 
 That it cried, * How true a twain 
 Seemeth this concordant one! 
 Love hath reason, reason none, 
 If what parts can so remain.* 
 
 651 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Whereupon it made this threne 
 To the phoenix and the dove, 
 Co-supremes and stars of love, 
 As chorus to their tragic scene. 
 
 Threnos 
 
 Beauty, truth, and rarity, 
 Grace in all simplicity, 
 Here enclosed in cinders lie. 
 
 Death is now the phoenix' nest; 
 And the turtle's loyal breast 
 To eternity doth rest. 
 
 Leaving no posterity: 
 'Twas not their infirmity. 
 It was married chastity. 
 
 Truth may seem, but cannot be; 
 Beauty brag, but 'tis not she; 
 Truth and beauty buried be. 
 
 To this urn let those repair 
 That are either true or fair; 
 For these dead birds sigh a prayer. 
 
 fF. Shakespeare 
 
 6^ J. On the Death of Sir Philip Sidney 
 
 *IVE pardon, blessed soul, to my bold cries. 
 If they, importunate, interrupt the song 
 Which now, with joyful notes, thou sing'st among 
 652 
 
 G 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 The angel-choristers of heavenly skies. 
 Give pardon eke, sweet soul, to my slow^ eyes, 
 That since I saw thee now it is so long. 
 And yet the tears that unto thee belong 
 To thee as yet they did not sacrifice. 
 I did not know that thou wert dead before; 
 I did not feel the grief I did sustain; 
 The greater stroke astonisheth the more; 
 Astonishment takes from us sense of pain; 
 I stood amazed when others' tears begun. 
 And now begin to weep when they have done. 
 
 H. Constable 
 
 644. From ' Daphnalda ' 
 
 An Elegy 
 
 ^HE fell away in her first ages spring, 
 
 ^^ Whil'st yet her leaf was green, and fresh her rinde, 
 
 And whil'st her branch fair blossoms forth did bring, 
 
 She fell away against all course of kind. 
 
 For age to die is right, but youth is wrong; 
 
 She fell away like fruit blown down with windo 
 
 Weep, Shepherd ! weep, to make my undersongo 
 
 Yet fell she not as one enforc'd to die, 
 Ne died with dread and grudging discontent. 
 But as one toil'd with travail down doth lie. 
 So lay she down, as if to sleep she went. 
 And closed her eyes with careless quietness; 
 The whiles soft death away her spirit sent, 
 And soul assoyld from sinful fleshliness. 
 
 653 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 How happy was I when I saw her lead 
 The Shepherd's daughters dancing in a round ! 
 How trimly would she trace and softly tread 
 The tender grass, with rosy garland crown'd ! 
 And when she list advance her heavenly voice, 
 Both Nymphs and Muses nigh she made astown'd 
 And flocks and shepherds caused to rejoice. 
 
 But now, ye Shepherd lasses! who shall lead 
 Your wandering troops, or sing your virelays ? 
 Or who shall dight your bow'rs, sith she is dead 
 That was the Lady of your holy days ? 
 Let now your bliss be turned into bale. 
 And into plaints convert your joyous plays. 
 And with the same fill every hill and dale. 
 
 But I will walk this wandering pilgrimage 
 Throughout the world from one to other end, 
 And in affliction waste my better age : 
 My bread shall be the anguish of my mind. 
 My drink the tears which fro' mine eyes do rain 
 My bed the ground that hardest I may find; 
 So will I wilfully increase my pain. 
 
 Ne sleep (the harbinger of weary wights) 
 Shall ever lodge upon mine eye-lids more; 
 Ne shall with rest refresh my fainting sprights 
 Nor failing force to former strength restore: 
 But I will wake and sorrow all the night 
 With Philomene, my fortune to deplore; 
 With Philomene, the partner of my plight. 
 
 6S4 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 And ever as I see the stars to fall. 
 
 And underground to go to give them light 
 
 Which dwell in darkness, I to mind will call ' 
 
 How my fair Star, (that shined on me so bright,) 
 
 Fell suddenly and faded underground ; 
 
 Since whose departure day is turn'd to night, 
 
 And night without a Venus star is found. 
 
 And she, — my Love that was, my Saint that is, — 
 
 When she beholds from her celestial throne, 
 
 (In which she joyeth in eternal bliss) 
 
 My bitter penance, will my case bemoan, 
 
 And pity me that living thus do die; 
 
 For heavenly spirits have compassion 
 
 On mortal men, and rue their misery. 
 
 So when I have with sorrow satisfied 
 
 Th' importune Fates, which vengeance on me seek, 
 
 And th' heavens with long languor pacified, 
 
 She, for pure pity of my sufferance meek. 
 
 Will send for me : for which I daily long : 
 
 And will till then my painful penance eeke. 
 
 Weep, Shepherd ! weep, to make my undersong ! 
 
 E. Spenser 
 
 64s . To His Paternal Country 
 
 /~\ EARTH ! earth ! earth ! hear thou my voice, and be 
 ^-^ Loving, and gentle for to cover me; 
 Banish'd from thee I live : ne'er to return. 
 Unless thou giv'st my small remains an urn. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 6^6. Three Epitaphs Upon the Death of 
 a Rare Child oj Six Years Old 
 
 T^riT'S perfection, Beauty's wonder, 
 
 Nature's pride, the Graces' treasure, 
 Virtue's hope, his friends' sole pleasure. 
 This small marble stone lies under; 
 Which is often moist with tears 
 For such loss in such young years. 
 
 // 
 
 Lovely boy! thou art not dead, 
 But from earth to heaven fled; 
 For base earth was far unfit 
 For thy beauty, grace, and wit. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Thou alive on earth, sweet boy 
 Hadst an angel's wit and face; 
 And now dead thou dost enjoy. 
 In high Heaven, an angel's place. 
 
 F. Davison 
 
 64/. Upon a Child That Died 
 
 TTERE she lies, a pretty bud, 
 -*■ ^ Lately made of flesh and blood : 
 Who as soon fell fast asleep 
 As her little eyes did peep. 
 Give her strewings, but not stir 
 The earth that lightly covers her. 
 656 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Another 
 
 T TERE a pretty baby lies 
 ■*- ^ Sung asleep with lullabies: 
 Pray be silent and not stir 
 Th' easy earth that covers her. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 64^. Exequy on His Wife 
 
 A CCEPT, thou shrine of my dead saint, 
 ^ ^ Instead of dirges this complaint; 
 And for sweet flowers to crown thy herse 
 Receive a strew of weeping verse 
 From thy grieved friend, whom thou might'st see 
 Quite melted into tears for thee. 
 
 Dear loss! since thy untimely fate, 
 My task hath been to meditate 
 On thee, on thee ! Thou art the book, 
 The library whereon I look, 
 Tho' almost blind. For thee, loved clay, 
 I languish out, not live, the day. . . . 
 Thou hast benighted me; thy set 
 This eve of blackness did beget, 
 Who wast my day (tho' overcast 
 Before thou hadst thy noontide past): 
 And I remember must in tears 
 Thou scarce hadst seen so many years 
 As day tells hours. By thy clear sun 
 My love and fortune first did run; 
 But thou wilt never more appear 
 
 657 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Folded within my hemisphere, 
 Since both thy light and motion, 
 Like a fled star, is fall'n and gone, 
 And 'twixt me and my soul's dear wish 
 The earth now interposed is. . . . 
 
 I could allow thee for a time 
 To darken me and my sad clime; 
 Were it a month, a year, or ten, 
 I would thy exile live till then. 
 And all that space my mirth adjourn — 
 So thou wouldst promise to return, 
 And putting off^ thy ashy shroud 
 At length disperse this sorrow's cloud. 
 
 But woe is me! the longest date 
 Too narrow is to calculate 
 These empty hopes : never shall I 
 Be so much blest as to descry 
 A glimpse of thee, till that day come 
 Which shall the earth to cinders doom, 
 And a fierce fever must calcine 
 The body of this world — like thine, 
 My little world ! That fit of fire 
 Once off, our bodies shall aspire 
 To our souls' bliss: then we shall rise 
 And view ourselves with clearer eyes 
 In that calm region where no night 
 Can hide us from each other's sight. 
 
 Meantime thou hast her, earth : much good 
 May my harm do thee ! Since it stood 
 With Heaven's will I might not call 
 Her longer mine, I give thee all 
 
 658 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 My short-lived right and interest 
 
 In her whom Hving I loved best. 
 
 Be kind to her, and prithee look 
 
 Thou write into thy Doomsday book 
 
 Each parcel of this rarity 
 
 Which in thy casket shrined doth lie, 
 
 As thou wilt answer Him that lent — 
 
 Not gave — thee my dear monument. 
 
 So close the ground, and 'bout her shade 
 
 Black curtains draw: my bride is laid. 
 
 Sleep on, my Love, in thy cold bed 
 Never to be disquieted ! 
 My last good-night! Thou wilt not wake 
 Till I thy fate shall overtake; 
 Till age, or grief, or sickness must 
 Marry my body to that dust 
 It so much loves; and fill the room 
 My heart keeps empty in that tomb. 
 Stay for me there: I will not fail 
 To meet thee in that hollow vale. 
 And think not much of my delay: 
 I am already on the way, 
 And follow thee with all the speed 
 Desire can make, or sorrows breed. 
 Each minute is a short degree 
 And every hour a step towards thee. . . . 
 
 Tis true — with shame and grief I yield — 
 Thou, like the van, first tookst the field; 
 And gotten hast the victory 
 In thus adventuring to die 
 Before me, whose more years might crave 
 A just precedence in the grave. 
 
 659 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 But hark ! my pulse, like a soft drum. 
 Beats my approach, tells thee I come; 
 And slow howe'er my marches be 
 I shall at last sit down by thee. 
 
 The thought of this bids me go on 
 And wait my dissolution 
 With hope and comfort. Dear — forgive 
 The crime — I am content to live 
 Divided, with but half a heart. 
 Till we shall meet and never part. 
 
 H. King 
 
 6^0. On a Virtuous Young Gentlewoman 
 That Died Suddenly 
 
 OHE who to Heaven more Heaven doth annex, 
 ^^ Whose lowest thought was above all our sex. 
 Accounted nothing death but t' be reprieved. 
 And died as free from sickness as she lived. 
 Others are dragged away, or must be driven. 
 She only saw her time and stept to Heaven; 
 Where seraphims view all her glories o'er. 
 As one returned that had been there before. 
 For while she did this lower world adorn, 
 Her body seemed rather assumed than born; 
 So rarified, advanced, so pure and whole. 
 That body might have been another's soul; 
 And equally a miracle it were 
 That she could die, or that she could live here. 
 
 W. Cartwrtght 
 660 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 6^1. 0} His Dear Son^ Gervase 
 
 T^EAR Lord, receive my son, whose winning love 
 -■-^ To me was like a friendship, far above 
 The course of nature or his tender age; 
 Whose looks could all my bitter griefs assuage : 
 Let his pure soul, ordained seven years to be 
 In that frail body which was part of me. 
 Remain my pledge in Heaven, as sent to show 
 How to this port at every step I go. 
 
 Sir J. Beaumont 
 
 6^2. A Part of An Ode 
 
 To the Immortal Memory and Friendship of that Noble Pair, 
 Sir Lucius Gary and Sir H. Morison 
 
 TT is not growing like a tree 
 
 ^ In bulk, doth make man better be; 
 Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, 
 To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere: 
 
 A lily of a day 
 
 Is fairer far in May, 
 Although it fall and die that night; 
 It was the plant and flower of light. 
 In small proportions we just beauties see; 
 And in short measures, life may perfect be. 
 
 Call, noble Lucius, then for wine. 
 And let thy looks with gladness shine; 
 Accept this garland, plant it on thy head, 
 And think — nay, know — thy Morison s not dead. 
 
 66i 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 He leap'd the present age, 
 Possest with holy rage 
 To see that bright eternal Day 
 Of which we Priests and Poets say 
 Such truths as we expect for happy men; 
 And there he lives with memory — and Ben 
 
 Jonson : who sung this of him, ere he went 
 
 Himself to rest. 
 Or taste a part of that full joy he meant 
 
 To have exprest 
 In this bright Asterism 
 Where it were friendship's schism — 
 Were not his Lucius long with us to tarry — 
 
 To separate these twy 
 
 Lights, the Dioscuri, 
 And keep the one half from his Harry. 
 But fate doth so alternate the design. 
 Whilst that in Heav'n, this light on earth must shine. 
 
 And shine as you exalted are ! 
 
 Two names of friendship, but one star: 
 Of hearts the union : and those not by chance 
 Made, or indenture, or leased out to advance 
 The profits for a time. 
 No pleasures vain did chime 
 
 Of rimes or riots at your feasts, 
 
 Orgies of drink or feign'd protests; 
 But simple love of greatness and of good, 
 That knit brave minds and manners more than blood. 
 
 662 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 This made you first to know the Why 
 
 Tou Itkedy then after, to apply 
 That Hking, and approach so one the t'other 
 Till either grew a portion of the other: 
 Each styled by his end 
 The copy of his friend. 
 
 You lived to be the great surnames 
 
 And titles by which all made claims 
 Unto the Virtue — nothing perfect done 
 But as a CART or a MORISON. 
 
 And such the force the fair example had 
 
 As they that saw 
 The good, and durst not practise it, were glad 
 That such a law 
 Was left yet to mankind, 
 Where they might read and find 
 FRIENDSHIP indeed was written, not in words, 
 And with the heart, not pen. 
 Of two so early men, 
 Whose lines her rules were and records : 
 Who, ere the first down bloomed on the chin. 
 Had sowed these fruits, and got the harvest in. 
 
 B. Jonson 
 
 6^j. On the Lady Mary Villiers 
 
 'T'HE Lady Mary Villiers lies 
 ^ Under this stone; with weeping eyes 
 The parents that first gave her birth. 
 And their sad friends, laid her in earth. 
 
 663 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 If any of them, Reader, were 
 
 Known unto thee, shed a tear; 
 
 Or if thyself possess a gem 
 
 As dear to thee, as this to them, 
 
 Though a stranger to this place 
 
 Bewail in theirs thine own hard case: 
 For thou perhaps at thy return 
 Mayst find thy DarHng in an urn. 
 
 T. Carew 
 
 654. Hero's Epitaph 
 
 T^ONE to death by slanderous tongues 
 ■^^^ Was the Hero that here lies; 
 Death, in guerdon of her wrongs. 
 Gives her fame which never dies: 
 So the life that died with shame. 
 Lives in death with glorious fame. 
 
 W. Shakespeare 
 
 655. Epitaph 
 
 On the Countess Dowager of Pembroke 
 
 T TNDERNEATH this sable hearse 
 ^^ Lies the subject of all verse, 
 Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother: 
 Death, ere thou hast slain another. 
 Fair, and learn'd, and good as she, 
 Time shall throw a dart at thee. 
 664 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Marble piles let no man raise 
 To her name : in after days, 
 Sorae kind woman born as she, 
 Reading this, like Niobe 
 Shall turn marble, and become 
 Both her mourner and her tomb. 
 
 W. Browne or B. Jonson 
 
 6^6, Epitaph on Elizabeth L. H. 
 
 'X "X rOULD'ST thou hear what man can say 
 
 * * In a little ? Reader, stay. 
 Underneath this stone doth lie 
 As much beauty as could die; 
 Which in life did harbour give 
 To more virtue than doth live. 
 If at all she had a fault 
 Leave it buried in this vault. 
 One name was Elizabeth, 
 The other, let it sleep with death. 
 Fitter, where it died, to tell. 
 Than that it lived at all. Farewell. 
 
 B. Jonson 
 
 6^y, An Epitaph on Salathiel Pavy 
 
 A Child of Queen Elizabeth's Chapel 
 
 "\1 TEEP with me all you that read 
 
 ^ ^ This little story ; 
 And know, for whom a tear you shed 
 Death's self is sorry. 
 
 665 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 *Twas a child that so did thrive 
 
 In grace and feature, 
 As heaven and nature seemed to strive 
 
 Which own'd the creature. 
 Years he number'd scarce thirteen 
 
 When Fates turn'd cruel, 
 Yet three fill'd zodiacs had he been 
 
 The stage's jewel; 
 And did act, (what now we moan) 
 
 Old men so duly. 
 As, sooth, the Parcae thought him one, 
 
 He played so truly. 
 So, by error to his fate, 
 
 They all consented; 
 But, viewing him since, alas too late! 
 
 They have repented; 
 And have sought, to give new birth, 
 
 In baths to steep him; 
 But, being so much too good for earth. 
 
 Heaven vows to keep him. 
 
 B. Jonson 
 
 6^8. Upon the Death of Sir Alhertus 
 Morton's Wife 
 
 H 
 
 E first deceased; she for a little tried 
 To live without him, liked it not, and died. 
 Str H. Wotton 
 
 666 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 6^g. In Obitum M S, X. Maij, 1614 
 
 A /TAY ! Be thou never graced with birds that sing, 
 ^^^ Nor Flora's pride! 
 
 In thee all flowers and roses spring, 
 Mine only died. 
 
 W. Browne 
 
 660. The Widow 
 
 TTOW near me came the hand of Death, 
 ^ -*■ When at my side he struck my Dear, 
 And took away the precious breath 
 What quicken'd my beloved peer ! 
 
 How helpless am I thereby made! 
 
 By day how grieved, by night how sad ! 
 And now my life's delight is gone, 
 — Alas! how I am left alone! 
 
 The voice which I did more esteem 
 
 Than music in her sweetest key, 
 
 Those eyes which unto me did seem 
 
 More comfortable than the day; 
 
 Those now by me, as they have been 
 Shall never more be heard or seen; 
 
 But what I once enjoy'd in them 
 
 Shall seem hereafter as a dream. 
 
 Lord ! keep me faithful to the trust 
 Which my dear spouse reposed in me: 
 To him now dead preserve me just 
 In all that should performed be! 
 
 667 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 For though our being man and wife 
 
 Extendeth only to this Hfe, 
 Yet neither Hfe nor death should end 
 The being of a faithful friend. 
 
 G. Wither 
 
 66 1, An Epitaph upon Husband and 
 Wife 
 
 Who Died and Were Buried Together 
 
 * 'THO those whom death again did wed 
 
 -^ This grave's the second marriage-bed. 
 For though the hand of Fate could force 
 Twixt soul and body a divorce, 
 It would not sever man and wife, 
 Because they both lived but one life. 
 Peace, good reader, do not weep; 
 Peace, the lovers are asleep. 
 They, sweet turtles, folded lie 
 In the last knot that love could tie. 
 Let them sleep, let them sleep on, 
 Till the stormy night be gone, 
 And the eternal morrow dawn; 
 Then the curtains will be drawn. 
 And they wake into a light 
 Whose day shall never die in night.* 
 
 R. Crashaw 
 
 668 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 662. Troll the Bowl 
 
 /^^ OLD'S the wind, and wet's the rain, 
 ^-^ Saint Hugh be our good speed ! 
 Ill is the weather that bringeth no gain, 
 Nor helps good hearts in need. 
 
 Troll the bowl, the jolly nut-brown bowl, 
 And here's, kind mate, to thee ! 
 Let's sing a dirge for Saint Hugh's soul, 
 And down it merrily. 
 
 r. Dekker 
 
 66 J. The Bonny Earl 0} Murray 
 
 \/E Highlands, and ye Lawlands ! 
 
 O where hae ye been ? 
 They hae slain the Earl of Murray: 
 And hae laid him on the green ! 
 
 Now wae be to thee, Huntley! 
 
 And whairfore did ye sae ? 
 I bade you, bring him wi' you: 
 
 But forbade you him to slay! 
 
 He was a braw gallant. 
 
 And he rid at the ring; 
 And the bonny Earl of Murray, 
 
 O, he might hae been a King! 
 
 669 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 He was a braw gallant, 
 And he play'd at the ba' ; 
 
 And the bonny Earl of Murray 
 Was the flower amang them a*! 
 
 He was a braw gallant, 
 
 And he played at the gluve ! 
 
 And the bonny Earl of Murraf, 
 O, he was the Queen's Luvel 
 
 O lang will his Lady 
 
 Look owre the Castle Downe, 
 Ere she see the Earl of Murray 
 
 Come sounding through the town 1 
 
 A. 
 
 non. 
 
 664. An Elegy 0} a Woman'' s Heart 
 
 r\ FAITHLESS World ! and thy more faithless part, 
 ^-^ A Woman's Heart! 
 
 The true Shop of Variety ! where sits 
 
 Nothing but fits 
 And fevers of Desire, and pangs of Love; 
 
 Which toys remove! 
 Why was She born to please! or I, to trust 
 
 Words writ in dust ! 
 SufF'ring her eyes to govern my despair; 
 
 My pain, for air ! 
 And fruit of time rewarded with untruth. 
 
 The food of Youth ! 
 Untrue She was: yet I believed her eyes, 
 
 (Instructed spies !) 
 670 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Till I was taught, that Love was but a School 
 
 To breed a Fool ! 
 Or sought She more, by triumphs of denial, 
 
 To make a trial, 
 How far her smiles commanded my weakness I 
 
 Yield, and confess ! 
 Excuse no more thy folly! but, for cure. 
 
 Blush, and endure 
 As well thy shame, as Passions that were vain! 
 
 And think, 'tis gain 
 To know, — That Love, lodged in a Woman's Breast 
 
 Is but a guest ! 
 
 Str H. fVotton 
 
 665. Comfort to a Youth That Had Lost 
 His Love 
 
 A "^ THAT needs complaints. 
 
 When she a place 
 Has with the race 
 Of saints ? 
 
 In endless mirth 
 She thinks not on 
 What's said or done 
 In Earth. 
 
 She sees no tears, 
 Or any tone 
 Of thy deep groan 
 She hears; 
 
 671 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Nor does she mind 
 Or think on *t now 
 That ever thou 
 Wast kind; 
 
 But changed above. 
 She hkes not there, 
 As she did here, 
 Thy love. 
 
 Forbear therefore, 
 And lull asleep 
 Thy woes, and weep 
 No more. 
 
 R. Herrick 
 
 666. Let No Bird Sing 
 
 /"^LIDE soft, ye silver floods, 
 
 ^^ And every spring: 
 
 Within the shady woods 
 Let no bird sing! 
 
 Nor from the grove a turtle-dove 
 
 Be seen to couple with her love; 
 But silence on each dale and mountain dwell, 
 Whilst Willy bids his friend and joy farewell. 
 
 But of great Thetis' train, 
 
 Ye mermaids fair, 
 That on the shores do plain 
 
 Your sea-green hair, 
 672 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 As ye in trammels knit your locks, 
 Weep ye; and so enforce the rocks 
 In heavy murmurs through the broad shores tell 
 How Willy bade his friend and joy farewell. 
 
 Cease, cease, ye murdering winds, 
 
 To move a wave; 
 But if with troubled minds 
 
 You seek his grave, 
 Know 'tis as various as yourselves. 
 Now in the deep, then on the shelves. 
 His coffin toss'd by fish and surges fell, 
 Whilst Willy weeps and bids all joy farewell. 
 
 Had he Arion-like 
 
 Been judged to drown. 
 He on his lute could strike 
 
 So rare a sown, 
 
 A thousand dolphins would have come 
 
 And jointly strove to bring him home. 
 
 But he On shipboard died, by sickness fell. 
 
 Since when his Willy bade all joy farewell. 
 
 Great Neptune, hear a swain! 
 
 His coffin take. 
 And with a golden chain 
 
 For pity make 
 It fast unto a rock near land ! 
 Where every calmy morn I'll stand. 
 And ere one sheep out of my fold I'll tell, 
 Sad Willy's pipe shall bid his friend farewell, 
 
 W. Browne 
 673 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 66^, Calantha's Dirge 
 
 /'"^LORIES, pleasures, pomps, delights and ease, 
 
 ^-^ Can but please. 
 
 Outward senses, when the mind 
 
 Is troubled, or by peace refined. 
 
 Crowns may flourish and decay, 
 
 Beauties shine, but fade away; 
 
 Youth may revel, yet it must 
 
 Lie down in a bed of dust. 
 
 Earthly honours flow and waste, 
 
 Time alone doth change and last. 
 
 Sorrows mingled with contents prepare 
 
 Rest for care; 
 Love only reigns in death; though art 
 Can find no comfort for a Broken Heart. 
 
 J. Ford 
 
 668. Luce's Dirge 
 
 C^OyiEy you whose loves are dead, 
 ^-^ And, whiles I sing, 
 Weep, and wring 
 Every hand, and every head 
 Bind with cypress and sad yew; 
 Ribbons black and candles blue 
 For him that was of men most true! 
 
 Come with heavy moaning, 
 
 And on his grave 
 
 Let him have 
 Sacrifice of sighs and groaning; 
 
 674 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Let him have fair flowers enow, 
 White and purple, green and yellow, 
 For him that was of men most true ! 
 
 F. Beaumont 
 
 66g. Penthea's Dying Song 
 
 /^^H no more, no more, too late 
 
 ^-^ Sighs are spent; the burning tapers 
 
 Of a life as chaste as fate, 
 
 Pure as are unwritten papers. 
 Are burnt out; no heat, no light 
 Now remains; 'tis ever night. 
 
 Love is dead; let lovers' eyes 
 
 Locked in endless dreams, 
 
 Th' extremes of all extremes, 
 
 Ope no more, for now Love dies, 
 Now Love dies — implying 
 Love's martyrs must be ever, ever dying. 
 
 J. Ford 
 
 6yo. An Elegy upon the Death of Doctor 
 Donne 
 
 /^~^AN we not force from widow'd Poetry, 
 
 ^"-^ Now thou art dead, great Donne, one elegy 
 
 To crown thy hearse ? Why yet did we not trust. 
 
 Though with unkneaded, dough-bak'd prose, thy dust; 
 
 Such as the unsizar'd lect'rer from the flow'r 
 
 Of fading rhetoric, short-liv'd as his hour, 
 
 675 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Dry as the sand that measures it, might lay 
 Upon the ashes on the funeral day ? 
 Have we nor tune, nor voice ? Didst thou dispense 
 Through all our language both the words and sense ? 
 Tis a sad truth. The pulpit may her plain 
 And sober Christian precepts still retain; 
 Doctrines it may, and wholesome' uses, frame, 
 Grave homilies, and lectures; but the flame 
 Of thy brave soul (that shot such heat and light 
 As burnt our Earth, and made our darkness bright. 
 Committed holy rapes upon the will. 
 Did through the eye the melting hearts distil. 
 And the deep knowledge of dark truths so teach 
 As sense might judge what fancy could not reach) 
 Must be desir'd forever. So the fire 
 That fills with spirit and heat the Delphic quire. 
 Which kindled first by the Promethean breath, 
 Glow'd here a while, lies quench'd now in thy death. 
 The Muses' garden, with pedantic weeds 
 O'erspread, was purg'd by thee; the lazy seeds 
 Of servile imitation thrown away. 
 And fresh invention planted. Thou didst pay 
 The debts of our penurious bankrupt age: 
 Licentious thefts, that make poetic rage 
 A mimic fury, when our souls must be 
 Possest, or with Anacreon's ecstasy 
 Or Pindar's, not their own; the subtle cheat 
 Of sly exchanges, and the juggling feat 
 Of two-edg'd words; or whatsoever wrong 
 By ours was done the Greek or Latin tongue, 
 Thou hast redeem'd; and open'd us a mine 
 Of rich and pregnant fancy; drawn a line 
 676 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Of masculine expression, which had good 
 
 Old Orpheus seen, or all the ancient brood 
 
 Our superstitious fools admire, and hold 
 
 Their lead more precious than thy burnish'd gold, 
 
 Thou hadst been their exchequer, and no more 
 
 They each in other's dung had search'd for ore. 
 
 Thou shalt yield no precedence, but of time, 
 
 And the blind fate of language, whose tun'd chime 
 
 More charms the outward sense; yet thou may'st claim 
 
 From so great disadvantage greater fame, 
 
 Since to the awe of thy imperious wit 
 
 Our troublesome language bends, made only fit 
 
 With her tough thick-rib'd hoops to gird about 
 
 Thy giant fancy, which had prov'd too stout 
 
 For their soft, melting phrases. As in time 
 
 They had the start, so did they cull the prime 
 
 Buds of invention many a hundred year. 
 
 And left the rifled fields, besides the fear 
 
 To touch their harvest; yet from those bare lands 
 
 Of what was only thine, thy only hands 
 
 (And that their smallest work) have gleaned more 
 
 Than all those times and tongues could reap before. 
 
 But thou art gone, and thy strict laws will be 
 Too hard for libertines in poetry ; 
 They will recall the goodly, exil'd train 
 Of gods and goddesses, which in thy just reign 
 Was banish'd noble poems. Now, with these. 
 The silenc'd tales i' th' Metamorphoses 
 Shall stuff their lines, and swell the windy page; 
 Till verse, refined by thee, in this last age 
 
 677 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Turn ballad-rhime, or those old idols be 
 Adorn'd again with new apostasy. 
 
 Oh pardon me ! that break with untun'd verse 
 The reverent silence that attends thy hearse; 
 Whose solemn, awful murmurs were to thee, 
 More than these rude lines, a loud elegy; 
 That did proclaim in a dumb eloquence 
 The death of all the arts, whose influence, 
 Grown feeble, in these panting numbers lies, 
 Gasping short-winded accents, and so dies : 
 So doth the swiftly-turning wheel not stand 
 r th' instant we withdraw the moving hand. 
 But some short-time retain a faint, weak course, 
 By virtue of the first impulsive force; 
 And so, whilst I cast on thy funeral pile 
 Thy crown of bays, oh let it crack a while, 
 And spit disdain, till the devouring flashes 
 Suck all the moisture up, then turn to ashes. 
 
 I will not draw the envy, to engross 
 All thy perfections, or weep all the loss; 
 Those are too numerous for one elegy. 
 And this too great to be express'd by me: 
 Let others carve the rest; it shall suffice, 
 I on thy grave this epitaph incise: 
 " Here lies a king that rul'd as he thought fit 
 The universal monarchy of wit; 
 Here lies two flamens, and both those the best; 
 Apollo's first, at last the true God's priest." 
 
 T, Carew 
 
 678 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 6^/1, The SouVs Errand 
 
 f^Oy Soul, the Body's guest, 
 ^--^ Upon a thankless arrant, 
 Fear not to touch the best; 
 The truth shall be thy warrant; 
 Go, since I needs must die. 
 And give the World the lie! 
 
 Say to the Court, it glows 
 
 And shines like rotten wood; 
 Say to the Church, it shows 
 What's good, and doth no good; 
 If Church and Court reply, 
 Then give them both the lie. 
 
 Tell Potentates, they live 
 
 Acting by others' action, 
 Not loved unless they give. 
 Not strong but by a faction: 
 If Potentates reply. 
 Give Potentates the lie. 
 
 Tell men of high condition 
 
 That manage the Estate, 
 
 Their purpose is ambition, 
 
 Their practice, only hate: 
 
 And if they once reply. 
 
 Then give them all the lie. 
 
 679 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 Tell them that brave it most, 
 
 They beg for more by spending^ 
 Who, in their greatest cost, 
 Like nothing but commending r 
 And if they make reply. 
 Then give them all the lie. 
 
 Tell Zeal it wants devotion; 
 
 Tell Love it is but lust; 
 Tell Time it is but motion; 
 Tell Flesh it is but dust: 
 And wish them not reply, 
 For thou must give the lie. 
 
 Tell Age it daily wasteth; 
 
 Tell Honour how it alters ; 
 
 Tell Beauty how she blasteth; 
 
 Tell Favour how it falters; 
 
 And as they shall reply. 
 
 Give every one the lie. 
 
 Tell Wit how much it wrangles 
 
 In tickle points of niceness; 
 Tell Wisdom she entangles 
 Herself in overwiseness : 
 And when they do reply. 
 Straight give them both the lie. 
 
 Tell Physic of her boldness; 
 
 Tell Skill it is pretension; 
 Tell Charity of coldness; 
 
 Tell Law it is contention: 
 
 680 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 And as they do reply, 
 So give them still the lie. 
 
 Tell Fortune of her blindness; 
 
 Tell Nature of decay; 
 Tell Friendship of unkindness; 
 Tell Justice of delay : 
 And if they will reply, 
 Then give them all the lie. 
 
 Tell Arts they have no soundness. 
 
 But vary by esteeming; 
 Tell Schools they w^ant profoundness, 
 And stand so much on seeming. 
 If Arts and Schools reply, 
 Give Arts and Schools the lie. 
 
 Tell faith it's fled the City; 
 
 Tell how the Country erreth; 
 Tell Manhood shakes off pity; 
 Tell Virtue least preferreth; 
 And if they do reply. 
 Spare not to give the lie. 
 
 So when thou hast, as I 
 
 Commanded thee, done blabbing, — 
 Although to give the lie 
 
 Deserves no less than stabbing, — 
 Yet stab at thee that will. 
 No stab my soul can kill ! 
 
 Sir W. Raleigh 
 
 68i 
 
THE BOOK OF 
 
 6j2. No Trust in Time 
 
 T OOK how the flower which lingeringly doth fade, 
 
 -■ — ' The morning's darHng late, the summer's queen, 
 
 Spoiled of that juice which kept it fresh and green. 
 
 As high as it did raise, bows low the head : 
 
 Right so my life, contentments being dead. 
 
 Or in their contraries but only seen. 
 
 With swifter speed declines than erst it spread. 
 
 And blasted, scarce now shows what it hath been. 
 
 As doth the pilgrim therefore, whom the night 
 
 By darkness would imprison on his way. 
 
 Think on thy home, my soul, and think aright 
 
 Of what yet rests thee of life's wasting day ! 
 
 Thy sun posts westward, passed is thy morn. 
 
 And twice it is not given thee to be born. 
 
 JV. Drummond 
 
 67J. To Time 
 
 INTERNAL Time, that wasteth without waste! 
 
 ■'-^ That art, and art not! diest, and livest still; 
 
 Most slow of all; and yet of greatest haste; 
 Both ill and good; and neither good, nor ill; 
 How can I justly praise thee, or dispraise: 
 Dark are thy nights, but bright and clear thy days! 
 
 Both free and scarce, thou giv'st and tak'st again; 
 
 Thy womb, that all doth breed, is tomb to all; 
 Whatso by thee hath life, by thee is slain; 
 
 From thee, do all things rise: by thee they fall! 
 682 
 
ELIZABETHAN VERSE 
 
 Constant, inconstant, moving, standing still; 
 WaSy Is, Shall Be, do thee both breed and kill! 
 
 I lose thee, while I seek to find thee out; 
 
 The farther off, the more I follow thee; 
 The faster hold, the greater cause of doubt. 
 Was, Is, I know: but Shall, I cannot see. 
 All things by thee are measured ; thou, by none : 
 All are in thee. Thou, in thyself alone! 
 
 A, W 
 
 683 
 
Sonnet 
 
 Prefixed to His Majesty's Instructions to His Dearest Soi 
 Henry the Prince 
 
 /^OD gives not kings the style of gods in vain^ 
 ^^ For on His Throne His sceptre do they sway ; 
 And as their subjects ought them to obey. 
 
 So kings should fear and serve their God again. 
 
 If then ye would enioy a happy reign, 
 
 Observe the statutes of your Heavenly King, 
 
 And from His Law make all your laws to spring. 
 
 Since His lieutenant here ye should remain : 
 
 Reward the just; be steadfast, true, and plain; 
 Repress the proud, maintaining aye the right; 
 Walk always so as ever in His sight. 
 
 Who guards the godly, plaguing the profane. 
 And so ye shall in princely virtues shine. 
 Resembling right your mighty king divine. 
 
 King James /. 
 
 685 
 
NOTES 
 
 Page 1, Poem No. 1 — The lark now leaves his wat'ry nest. Thij 
 beautiful lyric under the simple title Song appeared in the first 
 collected edition of Davenant's Paems, London, 1673. 
 
 Page 1, No. 2 — Fly hence, shadows. From The Lover's Melan- 
 choly, act V. sc. 1; acted 1628. Printed 1629. 
 
 Page 2, No. 3 — Pack clouds, and away, and welcome day. Sung 
 by Valerino in act iv. sc. 6 of the Rape of Lucrece, presented 
 about 1605. The play was first printed in 1608, and reprinted in 
 Dialogues and Dramas, 1637. 
 
 " Thomas Heywood was by far the most voluminous of the dram- 
 atists of his age, and belonged to the class that wrote for bread 
 and dealt with Henslowe. Besides his dramas, Heywood wrote 
 many pageants and considerable prose of the pamphlet class. The 
 loss of his Lives of All the Poets, if indeed it was ever published, 
 is much to be deplored. Charles Lamb, in delight at Heywood's 
 exquisite sense of pathos and delicate insight into the human heart, 
 dubbed him * a prose Shakespeare.' But even Heywood is not all 
 prose, as this musical song is sufficient to attest." (Schelling: A 
 Book of Elizabethan Lyrics.) 
 
 Line 15, Stare: starling. 
 
 Page 3, No. 2 — Sing to Apollo, god of day. This song closes 
 the Comedy of Midas, being sung at its first presentation before 
 the " Queenes Maiestie upon Twelfe Day at Night, by the Children 
 of Paules," January 6, 1590. It did not appear in the first printed 
 ed. of 1592, but was restored with six additional songs in the 
 second ed. of the play by Edward Blunt in 1632. 
 
 Page 3, No. 5' — Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings. 
 From act ii. sc. 3 of Cymbeline, 1609. Line 7, Bin: is. 
 
 Page 3, No. 6 — Corydon, arise, my Cory don! From England's 
 Helicon, 1600, where it bears the signature " Ignoto." Like most 
 of the pieces thus signed it has been attributed to Sir Walter 
 Raleigh, " without," says Mr. Bullen, " the slightest reason." Line 
 28, Say : from soie, silk. 
 
 Page 6, No. 7 — Phoebus, arise. The text here followed is that 
 of the Maitland Club reprint (1832) of the last edition (1616) of 
 the poems published during Drummond's life. Line 4, Rouse Ment- 
 non's mother: Awaken the dawn from the dark earth and the clouds 
 
 687 
 
NOTES 
 
 when she is resting. This is one of that limited class of early myths 
 which may be reasonably interpreted as representations of natural 
 phenomena. Aurora in the old mythology is the mother of Memnon 
 (the east) and wife of Tithonus (the appearances of Earth and Sky 
 during the last hours of Night). She leaves him every morning in 
 renewed youth, to prepare the way for Phoebus (the sun),- whilst 
 Tithonus remains in perpetual old age and grayness. (F. T. Pal- 
 grave: Golden Treasury.) Line 5, Carriere: course. Line 27, By 
 Peneiis' streams: Phcebus met his love Daphne, daughter of the 
 river-god, by the river Peneus, in the vale of Tempe. Line 30, 
 When two thou did to Rome appear: Cf. Livy xxviii. 2 (of the 
 Second Punic War, b. c. 206. " In civitate tanto discrimine belli 
 sollicita . . . multa prodigia nuntiabantur . . . et AlbcB duos soles 
 visas referebant." A like phenomenon is mentioned again in xxxix. 
 14. B.C. 204). Cf. also Pliny, Natural History, II. 31; thus trans- 
 lated by Philemon Holland: "Over and besides, many sunnes are 
 seen at once, neither above nor beneath the bodie of the true 
 sunne indeed, but crosswise and overthwart; never neere, nor 
 directly against the earthe, neither in the night season, but when 
 the sunne either riseth or setteth. Once they are reported to have 
 been scene at noone day in Bosphorus and continued from morne 
 to even." (This from Aristot\&, Meteor., III. 2. 6.) "Three sunnes 
 together our Auncitors in old time have often beheld, as namely 
 when Sp. Posthumius and Q. Mutius, Q. Martins with M. Porcius, 
 M. Antonius with P. Dolabella, and Mar. Lepidus with L. Plancus, 
 were consuls. Yea and we in our daies have seen the like, in the 
 time of CI. Ca;sar of famous memorie, his Consulship, together with 
 Cornelius Orsitus, his colleague. More than three we never to 
 this day find to have been scene together." Drummond's reference 
 is perhaps to the famous instance italicized. (A. T. Quiller-Couch, 
 The Golden Pomp.) Line 37, Purple ports of death: {ports: gates). 
 Drummond elsewhere speaks of lips as " coral ports of bliss," and 
 the " double port of love." Line 42, Night like a drunkard reels: 
 Cf. Romeo and Juliet, act ii. sc. 3: 
 
 And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels 
 From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels. 
 
 Line 45, The clouds bespangle with bright gold their blue: Mr. 
 Palgrave in The Golden Treasury for the last three lines follows 
 the variant which reads: 
 
 The clouds with orient gold spangle their blue 
 
 Here is the pleasant place — 
 
 And nothing wanting is, save She, alas! 
 
 Mr. Quiller-Couch in The Golden Pomp follows Mr. Palgrave's ex- 
 ample, and expresses his opinion that the ending in the 1616 text 
 " seems comparatively weak." I note, however, that in his later 
 published Oxford Book of English Verse he restores the original 
 ending of the text as it is printed here. 
 
 Page 7, No. 8 — On a fair m.orning, as I came by the way. 
 From Thomas Morley's Madrigals to Four Voices, 1600. 
 
 Page 9, No. 10 — Hey! now the day dawis. "This lovely poem," 
 says Crantoun, " is one of the happiest efforts of Montgomerie's 
 
 688 
 
NOTES 
 
 Muse, and shows his lyric genius at its best. It is perhaps the 
 oldest set of words extant, to the air, ' Hey tuttie taittie ' — the 
 war-note sounded for the Bruce on the field of Bannockburn and 
 familiarized to every one by Burns's ' Scots wha hae.' From allu- 
 sions to the tune, Dunbar and other poets prior to Montgomerie, 
 we conclude that it enjoyed a rare popularity. Gavin Douglas 
 bears testimony to the favour in which it was held by the ' men- 
 stralis ' of his day in the following lines of ' The Prolong of the 
 Threttene Buik of Eneados: ' 
 
 The dewy grene, pulderit with daseis gay, 
 
 Schew on the sward a cullout dapill gray; 
 
 The mysty vapouris springand up full sweit. 
 
 Waist confortabill to glaid all mannis spreit; 
 
 Tharto, thir byrdis singis in the schawis, 
 
 As menstrallis playing, The joly day now dawis." 
 
 Line 13, The turtle that true is. Compare, " As doth tlie turtle for 
 . her make," in Montgomerie's poem He Bids Adieu to His Mistress. 
 The turtle-dove became celebrated for the constancy of its affection. 
 Indeed, the " billing and cooing " of the pigeon has passed into a 
 proverb. Compare Catullus: 
 
 Nee tantum niveo gavisa est ulla columbo 
 Compar. 
 •- — Carm. Ixviii., 125, 126. 
 
 Propertius: 
 
 Exemplo junctae tibi sint in amore columbae 
 
 Masculus et totum femina conjugium. 
 Errat qui finem vesani quaerit amoris: 
 Verus amor nullum novit habere modum. 
 
 — Eleg. III. vii. 27-30. 
 And Martial: 
 
 Basia me copiunt blandas imitata columbas. 
 
 — Epigr. Bk. xi. cir. 9. 
 
 Amplexa collum basioque tarn longo 
 Blandita, quam sunt nuptias columbarum. 
 
 — - Epigr. Bk. xii. Ixv. 7. 
 
 Line 36, Fone: foes. The form is also found as singular. See 
 Roland's Court of Venus: 
 
 Fra that they knew that he wa Venus fone. 
 
 — Bk. ii. 1. 331. 
 
 Page 11, No. 11 — What bird so sings, yet so does wail. From 
 Alexander and Canipaspe, act v. sc. 1, first produced at the Court 
 Ne\v Year's Eve or Day of Christmas, 1581-2. Line 5, Brave prick- 
 song. " The nightingale's song, being full of rich variety, is often 
 termed prick-song by old writers. So they speak of the cuckoo's 
 plain-song." (Bullen.) " Harmony written or pricked down in 
 opposition to plain-song, where descant rested with the will of the 
 singer." (Chappell.) Line 7, Now at heaven's gate she claps her 
 wings. The comparison has been made of this line to the opening 
 words of Shakespeare's song in Cymbeline, ii. 3. 21. (See p. 3, 
 No. 5-) 
 
 " A different, but inferior and I think later version of Lyly's 
 song altering the fourth line and also substituting the sparrow for 
 
 689 
 
NOTES 
 
 the robin is given, with Cupid and My Campaspe, but without 
 source or author specified in Thomas Lyle's Ancient Ballads and 
 Songs, 1827." (R. Warwick Bond.) 
 
 Page 11, No. 12 — Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleas- 
 ant King. From Summer's Last Will and Testament, 1600. Line 
 5, The palm and May, etc. See note to Herrick's Corinna's May- 
 ing (p. 24, No. 28) for this old custom of May Day. 
 
 Page 11, No. 13 — < Fresh Spring, the herald of love's mighty 
 King. From the Amoretti, 1595, Sonnet Ixx. (See note to No. 
 352.) 
 
 Page 12, No. 14 — The soote season, that bud and bloom forth 
 brings. Line 1, Soote: sweet. Line 10, Smale : small. Line 11, 
 Mings: mingles. 
 
 Page 13, No. 15 — Full many a glorious morning have I seen. 
 Sonnet xxxiii. in Shakespeare's Sonnettes, 1609. Line 6, Rack'. 
 vapours. Malone here explains rack to be the fleeting motion ol 
 the clouds: it more properly means the clouds themselves moving 
 before the wind. Cf. Kipling in The Bell Buoy: 
 
 When the smoking scud is blown 
 
 And the greasy wind-rac^ lowers. ♦ 
 
 Page 14, No. 16 — Beauty, sweet Love, is like the morning dew. 
 In Dr. Grosart's ed. of Daniel's Works, this sonnet is numbered 1., 
 though in earlier editions it is assigned xlvii. in Delia, 1592. The 
 date of publication of these sonnets one year after those of Sid- 
 ney's, classes their author with the latter poet as a pioneer in the 
 experiment of a literary fashion which shares with the drama the 
 glories of the Age that left them unexcelled. Line 2, Refresh: 
 refreshing. Line 5, Flourish: flourishing, i. e. to blossom. Line 11, 
 And that, in Beauty's Lease: In the ed. of 1594 appears a later 
 version of these concluding lines: 
 
 When time has made a passport of thy fears, 
 Dated in Age, the Kalends of our death, 
 But ah! no more! This hath been often told. 
 And women grieve to think thoy must grow old. 
 
 Page 14, No. 17 — When daffodils begin to peer. Autolycus' 
 song in The Winter's Tale, 1611; act iv. sc. 3. In the text of the 
 play an interjected sentence and two more stanzas follow the three 
 verses here given: 
 
 I have served Prince Florizel and in my time wore three-pile 
 [velvet]; but now I am out of service: 
 
 But shall I go mourn for that, my dear? 
 
 The pale moon shines by night: 
 And when I wander here and there, 
 
 I then do most go right. 
 
 If tinkers may have leave to live, 
 
 And bear the sow-skin budget. 
 Then my account I well may give, 
 
 And in the stocks avouch it. 
 
 690 
 
NOTES 
 
 Line 2, Doxy: a loose wench. Line 7, pugging: thieving, from the 
 old word " puggard," a thief. 
 
 Page IS, No. 18 — Fair is my love for April's in her face. From 
 Perimedes the Blacksmith, 1588. In Morley's First Book of Madri- 
 gals (1594) there is a madrigal with the stanza: 
 
 April is in my mistress' face, 
 And July in her eyes hath place; 
 Within her bosom is September, 
 But in her heart a cold December. 
 
 Oliphant surmises, in the Musa Madrigalesca, p. 74, that both are 
 translated from a foreign original. Lines 17, 18, My harvest in the 
 grass bears grain, and, The rock will wear, washed with a winter's 
 rain, are proverbs. Compare the opening lines of Greene's Dora- 
 licia's Ditty : 
 
 In time we see that silver drops 
 The craggy stones make soft, etc, 
 
 and also " the stanza in a poem to which Prof. Schelling calls 
 atteiition, signed " M. T.," published in The Paradise of Dainty 
 Devises, beginning: 
 
 The sturdy rock for all his strength. 
 
 By raging seas is rent in twain; 
 The marble stone is pierced, at length, 
 
 With little drops of drizzling rain. 
 
 Page 16, No. 19 — O if thou knew'st how there thyself dost harm. 
 Sonnet xxxiii. in Aurora, from the first collected Ed. of Stirling 
 Poems, Glasgow, 1870. 
 
 Page 16, No. 20 — O happy Tithon! if thou know'st thy hap. 
 Song ix., in Aurora, Poems, 1870. Six stanzas have been omitted. 
 Line 4, Leman: from French I'aimant, a sweetheart. 
 
 Page 18, No. 22 ^ Ask me why I send you here. This song 
 has been attributed to both Carew and Herrick, but is claimed un- 
 reservedly for Herrick in Grosart's, Palgrave's, and Pollard's 
 editions of the poet. Quiller-Couch in his Golden Pomp says, " I 
 have used Carew's text which appears to me superior;" but on 
 examining the same editor's " Oxford Book of English Verse " there 
 is discovered his use of the accepted text from the Hesperides, 1648, 
 which seems to leave no doubt as to his final opinion of the author- 
 ship. I append the reading of the first stanza of Carew's text, 
 in which the variants are mostly contained: 
 
 Ask me why I send you here 
 This firstling of the infant year? 
 
 Ask me why I send to you 
 
 This Primrose, all bepearl'd with dew? 
 I straight whisper to your ears: 
 
 The sweets of love are washed with tears. 
 
 Page 19, No. 24 — It fell upon a holly eve. From The Shepherd's 
 Calender: August (1579). '* Perigot maketh all his song in praise 
 of his love, to whom Willy answereth every under verse." (E. K.'s 
 
 691 
 
NOTES 
 
 Glosse upon the Calendar.) In the original edition the names of 
 Perigot and Willy were printed alternately throughout the poem. 
 Line 8, Spill: perish. Line 9, BeUibone : Belle et bonne, a com- 
 pound, the reverse of the more usual Bonibell of the next verse 
 (Schelling). Line 15, Saye: skirt of coarse material. Line 14, 
 Gray is greete: gray denotes weeping or mourning. Line 23, Wood: 
 mad. Line 27, Rovde: Took a glance or roving shot at; cf. "At 
 marks full forty score they used to prick and rove," Drayton's 
 Polyolbion, Song xxvi. Line 35, Lightsome levin: brilliant light- 
 ning. Line 43, Gryde: pierced. Line 45, Raunch: wrench. Line 
 55, Thilk : the ilk, i.e., the same. Line 56, You may bye gold: a 
 proverb. Line 61, Gracelesse grief e: a grief that comes from not 
 obtaining her grace or favour. Line 67, Priefe: proof. 
 
 Page 21, No. 25 — On a day — alack the day. From Love's 
 Labour's Lost, act iv. sc. 3. This sonnet of Dumain's was also pub- 
 lished in The Passionate Pilgrim, 1599, and England's Helicon, 
 1600. Line 3, Passing fair: Fairholt calls attention to the use of 
 this phrase in Lyly's Sapho and Phao, 1584; "I fear me, fair be a 
 word too foul for a face so passing fair," act ii. sc. 1. Line 6, 
 'Gan passage find: in Dr. Furness' Variorum ed. of Shakespeare 
 the reading is " can passage find." The early English poets used can 
 for 'gan or began. " Gan," says Dr. Furness, " is surely out of 
 place in the present line." (Ibid., vol. xiv., p. 171.) 
 
 Page 23, No. 27 — Little think'st thou, poor flower. Line 18, 
 Wilt: Ed. of 1669, reads Will. 
 
 Page 24, No. 28 — Get up, get up for shame! Line 2, The god 
 unshorn: Apollo. Line 4, Fresh-quilted colours through the air: 
 Dr. Grosart points out the similarity of this figure with Milton's 
 "tissued clouds" in the Nativity, line 146. Line 28, Beads: prayers. 
 Line 32, ''' Devotion gives each house a bough," etc. It is an ancient 
 custom in Devon and Cornwall to deck the porches of houses with 
 boughs of sycamore on a May-day. For a full account of the May- 
 day customs alluded to in this poem see Brand's Popular Antiquities, 
 vol. i., p. 212. The last stanza is in the same spirit with Catullus' 
 Fifth Carmen. 
 
 Page 27, No. 29 — This day Dame Nature seemed in love. " This 
 piece," says Dr. Hannah, in his edition of the Poems of Sir Henry 
 Wotton, " is inserted in Walton's Angler (pp. 60, 61, ed. 1655), 
 with some introductory remarks which I shall quote at some length. 
 ' My next and last example shall be that under-valuer of money, 
 the late Provost of Eton Colledg, Sir Henry Wotton, (a man 
 with whom I have often fished and convers'd), a man whose for- 
 raign Imployments in the service of this Nation, and whose expe- 
 rience, learning, wit, and cheerfulnesse made his company to be 
 esteemed one of the delights of mankind; -this man, — whose very 
 approbation of Angling were sufficient to convince any modest 
 Censurer of it, — this man was also a most dear lover, and a 
 frequent practiser of the Art of Angling; of which he would say, 
 'Twas an Imployinent for his idle time, which was (then) not idly 
 spent; for angling was, after tedious Study, A rest to his mind, 
 a cheerer of his spirits, a devotion of sadnesse, a calmer of unquiet 
 thoughts, a moderator of passions, a procurer of contentednesse ; 
 and, that it. begot habits of peace and patience in. those that prof est 
 692 
 
NOTES 
 
 and practis'd it. — Sir, this was the saying of that Learned man; 
 and I do easily believe that peace and patience, and a calme content 
 did cohabit in the cheerful heart of Sir Henry Wotton, because I 
 know, that when hee was beyond seventy yeares of age, hee made 
 this discription of a part of the present pleasure that possest him, 
 as he sate quietly in a summer's evening on a bank a-fishing; it is 
 a description of the Spring, which, because it glides as soft and 
 sweetly from his pen, as that River does now by which it was then 
 made, I shall repeat unto you.' " 
 
 There are three extant texts of the poem: i., as in the Complete 
 Angler; ii., MS. Rawl. poet. 147, p. 47; iii., Archbishop Sancroft's 
 MS. Tam. 465, fol. 61 va. The title given is " On the Spring," 
 in both MSS., and signed Sr. H. Wotton. The text here followed 
 is collated from the various readings. Line 7, There stood my 
 fj-iend: Dr. Hannah says, "the biographers of Izaak are doubt- 
 less right in treating this as a reference to him. Zouch, p. xiii, 
 ed. 1796. Nicholas, pp. xxxv, 79." 
 
 Page 28, No. 30 — In the merry month of May. This song was 
 first given in the Honourable Entertainment Given to the Queen's 
 Majesty in Progress at Elvetham in Hampshire, by the Right 
 Honourable the Earl of Hertford in 1591. It was then entitled 
 The Ploughman's Song, but when published in England's Helicon, 
 1600, it was called Phillida and Corydon, which was retained by 
 Dr. Grosart in his ed. of Breton. The text here used is the 
 reading of the Cosens MS. In Prof. Schelling's Book of Eliza- 
 bethan Lyrics the following couplet is included, beginning line 3 : 
 
 With a troop of damsels playing 
 Forth the wood, forsooth a-Maying. 
 
 Page 29, No. 31 ^ Sister, awake! close not your eyes! From 
 Thomas Bateson's First Set of English Madrigals, 1604. 
 
 Page 29, No. 32 — See where my Love a Maying goes. From 
 Francis Pilkington's First Set of Madrigals, 1614. 
 
 Page 30, No. 33 — Is not thilke the merry month of May. From 
 the Shepherd's Calendar: May: sung by Palinode and Piers. Mr. 
 Quiller-Couch, in his Golden Pomp, says: " This is one of the 
 few instances in which I have ventured to make a short extract 
 from a long poem and present it as a separate lyric." Mr. Couch's 
 action has proved so successful for his purpose I have followed 
 his example here. 
 
 Page 31, No. 35 —^ Now the lusty spring, etc. From Fletcher's 
 Tragedy of Valcntinian, produced 1618-19. 
 
 Page 33, No. 37 — London, to thee I do present. From The 
 Knight of the Burning Pestle, played 1610-11; printed 1613. 
 ^.ine 56, Hey for our town! On May-day it was the custom for one 
 nllage to contend with another in dancing matches. " Hey for our 
 own " was the cry raised on such occasions. Cf. Lyrics from Eliz- 
 ibethan Song-books, ed. 1887, p. 68: 
 
 Then all at once for our town cries! 
 Pipe on, for we will have the prize. 
 
 693 
 
NOTES 
 
 Line 59, To Hogsdon or to Newington: Hogsdon and Newington 
 were favourite resorts of pleasure-seekers, particularly 'prentices 
 and their sweethearts. They were noted for cakes and cream: 
 
 For Hodgsdon, Islington, and Tot'nam Court 
 For cakes and cream had then no small resort. 
 
 Page 35, No. 38 — Now each creature joys the other. Printed 
 in the first authorized ed. of Delia, 1592. I quote Prof. Schelling's 
 comment {Book of Elizabethan Lyrics, p. 235), from his note to 
 this Ode: "Lowell instances ' well-languaged Daniel,' as he was 
 called by William Browne, to show 'that the artistic value of choice 
 and noble diction was quite as well understood in his day as in 
 ours.' He adds of Daniel: ' His poetic style is mainly as modern 
 as that of Tennyson.' Shakespeare Once More, Prose Works, III., 
 ii., and ibid., IV., 280." Line 11, B ereav en rta.'ke^n away by violence, 
 a by-form of bereaved formed on the analogy of strong verbs. 
 (Schelling.) Line 2i, One bird reports: " Samuel Daniel . . . has 
 beautifully applied the word report — which was a technical term 
 to denote this answering and echoing of voices in a madrigal — to 
 the piping of birds in the woods." (Sidney Lanier, Shakespeare 
 and His Forerunners, vol. II., p. 45.) 
 
 Page 36, No. 39 — Under the greenwood-tree. From act ii. sc. 
 5 of As You Like It. Line 3, And turn his merry note: There 
 has been much controversy among Shakespearian editors over the 
 reading of turn instead of tune in this one of the best of the great 
 poet's lyrics. Malone supports tune, citing The Two Gentlemen of 
 Verona, act v. sc. 4, " And to the nightingale's complaining note 
 tune my distresses." " To turn a tune or note," says Steevens, " is 
 still a current phrase among vulgar musicians," and White cor- 
 roborates him from observation in the counties of York and 
 Durham, where he says the phrase is appropriate and familiar. 
 " To ' turn a note ' means only to ' change a note; ' compare 
 Locrine, 1595: 'When he sees that needs he must be prest, Heele 
 turne his note and sing another tune.' Wright, after quoting this 
 last note of Dyce's, adds: ' Even granting this, there appears to 
 be no absolute necessity for change in the present passage, for 
 turn his merry note may mean adapt or modulate his note to the 
 sweet bird's song, following its changes.' " (Furness, Variorum ed. 
 Shak., vol. viii., p. 94.) Line 10, And loves to live i' the sun: to 
 " live i' the sun," is to labour and " sweat in the eye of Phoebus," 
 or vitam agere sub dio ; for by lying in the sun how could they 
 get the food they eat? (Toilet.) Line 21, Ducdame, ducdame, 
 ducdame : due ad m,e, that is, bring him to me. (Hanmer.) "If 
 due ad me were right, Amiens would not have asked its meaning, 
 and been put off with a ' Greek invocation.' It is evidently a word 
 coined for the nonce. We have here, as Butler says, ' One for 
 sense, and one for rhyme.' Indeed, we must have a double rhyme, 
 or the stanza cannot well be sung to the same tune with the 
 former. I read, Ducdame, Ducdame, Here he shall see Gross fools 
 as he, An' if he will come to Ami. That is, to Amiens. {Ami — 
 me. B.) Jacques did not mean to ridicule himself." (Farmer.) 
 " I have recently met with a passage in an uncoUated MS. of the 
 Vision of Piers Plowman in the Bodleian Library, which goes far to 
 prove that Ducdame is the burden of an old song, an explanation 
 which exactly agrees with its position in the song of Jacques. The 
 passage is as follows : ' Thomee Set ther some. And sunge at the 
 694 
 
NOTES 
 
 ale. And helpen to erye that half akre with Dusadam-me-me.' — 
 MS. Rawl. Poet, 137, f. 6. To show that this is evidently in- 
 tended for the burden of a song, we need only compare it with 
 the corresponding passage in the printed edition: 'And holpen 
 ere this half acre with How, trolly lolly.' Piers Ploughman, ed. 
 Wright, p. 124. Making allowances for two centuries which elapsed 
 between the appearance of Piers Plougliman and As You Like It, 
 is there too great a difference between Dusadam-me-me and Duc- 
 da-me to warrant my belief that the latter is a legitimate descendant 
 of the more ancient refrain? At all events, it must be borne in 
 mind that the commentators have not produced any old word equally 
 near it in their dissertations on its meaning." (Halliwell, in Shake- 
 speare Society Papers, 1844, vol. i., p. 109.) For these opinions 
 I am indebted to Dr. Furness, Variorum Shakespeare, vol. viii., 
 pp. 97-98. 
 
 Page 37, No. 40 — Gather ye rosebuds while ye may. Printed 
 in Witt's Recreation, 1650. Set to music by William Lawes in 
 Play ford's Second Book of Ayres, 1652. Like many other poets 
 of the period, Herrick's opening lines are taken direct from 
 Ausonius, 361, lines 49, 50: 
 
 Collige, virgo, rosas, dum flos novus et nova pubes, 
 Et memor esto aevum sic properare tuum. 
 
 and again — 
 
 Quam longa una dies, astas tarn longa rosarum. 
 
 Page 38, No. 41 — As it fell upon a day. From Poems: In 
 Divers Humours, 1598. Perhaps no poet of this great period is 
 considered with so regretful a recollection as the author of this 
 immortal_ lyric. " Our first-born Kfeats," Mr. Swinburne names 
 him, which Prof. Schelling explains as " probably in allusion to 
 his proficiency in the heptasyllabic trochaics of this poem, a fa- 
 vorite measure with Keats." There is something I think more 
 internal and personal than the mere technique of his verses 
 which makes him the literary father of Crashaw, and literary 
 grandfather of Keats; for there are, perhaps, no three English 
 poets, who, in a certain intense personal quality, clothed in the 
 rich garments of an abundant vocabulary, soared so high in the 
 same realms of melodious diction as these three. A longer version 
 was included in the Sonnets to Sundry Notes of Music, appended 
 to The Passionate Pilgrim, 1599. A collection, made by the piratical 
 publisher, William Jaggard, of some genuine sonnets, etc., by 
 Shakespeare, and other writers, all credited, by the title page, to 
 Shakespeare. The present poem was " conveyed " with Poems in 
 Divers Humours and appended to The Encotnion of Lady Pecunia: 
 or the Praise of Money, the last book of verses written by Barn- 
 field. Line 14, Tereu, Tereu: for the meaning of this cry see the 
 note to Sidney's The Nightingale (No. 79). Line 23, Pandion: 
 Philomela's father. 
 
 Page 40, No. 43 — Thus, thus begin the yearly rites. This is 
 the opening hymn in the Masque, Pan's Anniversary: or, The 
 Shepherd's Holyday. The date and place of performance are 
 uncertain. Mr. Fleay suggests it was written for King James' 
 birthday, June 19. In the Folio of 1640 the month is not dated, 
 
 695 
 
NOTES 
 
 but the year assigned is 1625; on March 27 of which year James 
 died. In 1623 he kept his birthday at Greenwich or at Wansted; 
 in 1624, at Wansted. 
 
 Page 41, No. 44 — My Phyllis hath the morning^ sun. This is 
 sonnet xv., in Phyllis: Honoured with Pastorall Sonnets, Elegies 
 and Amourous Delights, 1593. I shall quote here Prof. Schelling's 
 note on this poem, which is full of interest: " This poem has 
 been assigned to Sir Edward Dyer with a steady perversity which 
 is surprising. Ward prints it as Dyer's (Engl. Poets, I., 378), and 
 Mr. Andrew Lang more recently says: 'The young English Muse 
 is like Sir Edward Dyer's Phyllis, the Fair Shepherdess,' quoting 
 the first four lines of this poem immediately after. {Introduction 
 to Elizabethan Songs in Honour of Love and Beauty, 1893, p. xxx.) 
 The mistake has arisen from the fact that when this poem was 
 reprinted in England's Helicon, seven years after its appearance 
 in Phlyllis Honered with Pastoral Sonnets, the initials " S. E. D." 
 were ignorantly subscribed to it. The poem is in the best style 
 of Lodge, and it may be suspected that not a little of the reputa- 
 tion of Sir Edward has depended upon this mistake." (Book of 
 Elizabethan Lyrics, p. 238.) "Dead one: Not an unusual verb in 
 this age; cf. And in my tears doth Urm the same" (p. 79, No. 85), 
 and Chapman, Ody. xviii. : "With many an ill hath numbed and 
 deaded me." (Schelling.) 
 
 Page 42, No. 45 — Cast our caps and cares away. From Beg- 
 gars' Bush, act ii. sc. 1, 1622. This song is the key-note of ex- 
 uberant outlawry and adventure to which the play holds. 
 
 Page 43, No. 46 — Tell me where is Fancy bred. From the Mer- 
 chant of Venice, 1594, act iii. sc. 2. Compare the following in the 
 Euphues, 1580, of Lyly: "For as by Basill the Scorpion is en- 
 gendred, and by means of the same pest destroyed: so love, which 
 by time and fancy is bred in an idle head, is by time and fancie 
 banished from the heart: or as the Salamander which being a long 
 space nourished in the fire, at the last quencheth it, so affection, 
 having taking hold of the fancie, and living as it were in the mind 
 of the lover, in tract of time altereth and changeth the heat, and 
 turneth it to chilliness." 
 
 Page 43, No. 47 — God Lycsus, ever young. From The Tragedy 
 of Valentinian, act. v. sc. 8, acted about 1616; printed 1647. 
 Lyaus, an epithet of Bacchus. 
 
 Page 44, No. 48 — Tell me, dearest, what is love? From The 
 Captain, 1647, act ii. sc. 2. This lyrical dialogue, with its refrain 
 for both voices, has been adapted from the less beautiful form in 
 act iii., of The Knight of the Burning Pestle, 1613. 
 
 Page 44, No. 49 — Never love unless you can. From Campion's 
 Third Book of Airs, 1617. 
 
 Page 45, No. 50 — Ye bubbling springs that gentle music makes. 
 From Thomas Greaves's Songs of Sundry Kinds, 1604. 
 
 Page 46, No. 51 — There is a garden in her face. From Cam- 
 pion's Fourth Book of Airs, 1617. Also set to music in Alison's 
 Hour's Recreation in Music, 1606, and Robert Jones's Ultimum 
 696 
 
NOTES 
 
 Vale, 1608. " Cherry Ripe " was a popular street cry of the age. 
 Compare Herrick's poem of the same title, and Jonson's The New 
 Cry. Mr. Erskine, in his study of Tlie Elizabethan Lyric (2d. ed., 
 1905), says of this poem: " The unity of the poem is secured by 
 the refrain describing her lips — 'cherry ripe.' Each stanza pic- 
 tures some feature of the lady's beauty, but always in relation to 
 her lips. In some respects the song represents the highest skill 
 of the madrigal writers; its theme is extremely slight, but its 
 effect is one of richness without superfluity and of sweetness with- 
 out lack of force." 
 
 Page 46, No. 52 — Come live with me and be my Love. This 
 charming song was originally printed (with the exception of the 
 fourth and sixth stanzas) in The Passionate Pilgrim, 1599, a Mis- 
 cellany of poems written by different persons, although fraudu- 
 lently ascribed on the title-page to Shakespeare. In the following 
 year, 1600, the song as it is here given, appeared under Marlowe's 
 name in England's Helicon. In 1653, Isaak Walton reprinted it, 
 with an additional stanza not given here, in the second edition 
 of the Complete Angler. " Few compositions of this kind," 
 says Bell, " have enjoyed a wider or more enduring popularity, or 
 suggested more remarkable imitations. The music to which it was 
 sung was discovered by Sir John Hawkins in a MS. of the age of 
 Elizabeth, and will be found in Boswell's edition of Malone's Shake- 
 speare, and in Chappell's collection of National English Airs. 
 Numerous ballads and songs were composed to the air of ' Come 
 live with me and be my Love,' and there is some ground for believ- 
 ing that Marlowe's words had displaced a still earlier song, ' Adieu, 
 my dear ' to the same tune. (See Chappell's National Songs, ii., 
 139.) Shakespeare quotes The Passionate Pilgrim in The Merry 
 Wives of Windsor, act iii. sc. 1, and Raleigh, Herrick, and Donne 
 have either written answers to it, or constructed poems on the plan 
 of which it may be regarded as the model. Sir John Hawkins, who 
 considers the song to "be ' a beautiful one,' nevertheless objects to 
 the want of truthfulness in its pastoral images. ' Buckles of gold,' 
 he observes, ' coral clasps and amber studs, silver dishes and ivory 
 tables are luxurious, and consist not with parsimony and simplicity 
 of rural life and manners.' This criticism would be more just if it 
 were not quite so literal. Allowance should be made for the fanciful 
 treatment of the subject; nor is it at all certain that the silver 
 dishes and ivory tables, which carry the luxuries of the shepherd's 
 life to the excess of inconsistency, are really chargeable to Mar- 
 lowe. The rest of the poem breathes the pure air of the country, 
 even to the coral clasfs and amber studs, which Sir John Hawkins 
 takes to be veritable jewelry, but which, being found in association 
 with a girdle of strazv and ivy buds, were apparently intended to 
 typify the blossoms of flowers. For a passage in one of the 
 plays attributed to Marlowe, closely resembling the stanza objected 
 to by Hawkins, see Lamb's Dramatic Specimens, {., 18." 
 
 Page 47, No. S3 — If all the world and Love were voung. This 
 Reply to Marlowe's ditty appeared in England's Helicon, 1600, 
 signed " Ignoto," and the evidence that Raleigh wrote it is con- 
 tained in a, famous passage in the Complete Angler: "As I left 
 this place, and entered into the next field, a second pleasure en- 
 tertained me. 'Twas a handsome milkmaid, that had not yet at- 
 tained so much age and wisdom as to load her mind with any 
 
 697 
 
NOTES 
 
 fears of many things that will never be, as too many men too 
 often do; but she cast away all care, and sung like a nightin- 
 gale; her voice was good, and the ditty fitted for it; it was that 
 smooth song which was made by Kit Marlowe, now at least fifty 
 years ago; and the milkmaid's mother sung an answer to it, 
 which was made by Sir Walter Raleigh in his younger days." In 
 the second edition of the Angler Walton inserted — probably from 
 a broad-sheet — an extra penultimate stanza in both Song and 
 Reply. 
 
 Page 48, No. 54 — Ye little birds that sit and sing. From The 
 Fair Maid of the Exchange, 1607. The authorship of this play 
 is unknown. In Mr. Quiller-Couch's Golden Pomp he attributes it 
 to Heywood, without question, though the consensus of critical opin- 
 ion is against the claim. Mr. Fleay has alternately claimed it 
 for Lewis Machin and Jervais Markham. {Biographical Chronicle 
 of The English Drama, II., 219, 329.) 
 
 Page 50, No. 55 — A blithe and bonny country lass. From Rosa- 
 lind, 1590. " About mid-dinner, to make them merry, Coridon 
 came in with an old crowd, and plaid there a fit of mirth to 
 which he sung this pleasant song: A blithe," etc. 
 
 Page 51, No. 56 — My true-love hath my heart, etc. This ditty 
 first appeared in Puttenham's Art of English Poetry, 1589, to illus- 
 trate the Epimone, or the love burden. The following year it 
 was inserted in the Arcadia, with the six additional lines quoted 
 below: 
 
 His heart his wound received from my sight, 
 My heart was wounded with his wounded heart; 
 For as from me on him his hurt did light, 
 So still methought in me his hurt did smart: 
 Both equal hurt, in this change sought our bliss. 
 My true-love hath my heart and I have his. 
 
 In this sonnet form the refrain is transferred to the close. Dr. 
 Grosart, in his Introduction to the Shepherd's Calendar, in his ed. 
 of Spenser's Works, vol. iv., p. xxxvi., says of this ditty: " Out- 
 side the magical circle of Shakespeare, I cannot find the truth and 
 tenderness of this song anywhere equalled among our Elizabethan 
 amourists." 
 
 Page 52, No. 57 — Faint Amorist, what! dost thou think. Dr. 
 Grosart, in his ed. of Sidney's Complete Poems, vol. II., in a 
 note to the Third Division, p. 26, says: " I give the heading of 
 Pansies from Penshurst and WiHon (pansies for thoughts — Ham- 
 let, iv. 5) to such of the Verse of Sidney's as has not been hitherto 
 brought under the other divisions, etc." The sixth in this division 
 is Wooing-Stuffe, which he states is from MS. Cottoni Posthuma, 
 p. 327. 
 
 Page 53, No. 58 — Fain to content, I bend myself to write. 
 From the Phoenix' Nest, 1593. 
 
 Page 54, No. 59 — In time of yore when shepherds dwelt. This 
 
 poem was copied from the Co sens MS. by Dr. Grosart, and printed 
 
 in his ed. of Breton, in Chertsey Worthies' Library, on p. 19, of 
 
 Daffodils and Primroses^ As the MS. contains poems on the death 
 
 698 
 
NOTES 
 
 of Sidney, it is surmised that the date of writing must be shortly 
 after 1586. Mr. Bullen quotes this poem in the Introduction to 
 his Lyrics from Elizabethan Romances, and says: "There can be 
 no harm in quoting here one little poem, a description of love- 
 making in the happy days of pastoral simplicity, when girls did 
 not look for costly presents (rings, chains, etc.) from their lovers, 
 but were content with a row of pins or an empty purse, — the 
 days when truth was on every shepherd's tongue and maids had 
 not learned to dissemble. Whether there was ever such a time, 
 since our first parents were driven out of Paradise, we need not 
 stop to enquire. The old poets loved to talk about it." Line 6, 
 Sweetinge : sweet one. Line 19, Sunny beam: Prof. Schelling 
 thinks that here the text is apparently corrupt. 
 
 Page 56, No. 60 — Turn all thy thoughts to eyes. From Cam- 
 pion's Fourth Book of Airs, 1617. 
 
 Page 57, No. 62 — If I freely can discover. From Jonson's 
 The Poetaster, 1601. Bell, in his Songs of the Dramatists, p. 113, 
 suggests the germ of this song to be in the following quotation 
 from Martial's Epigrams, i., 58: 
 
 Qualem, Flacce, velim quseris, nolimve puellam? 
 
 Nolo nimis facilem, diificilemque nimis. 
 lUud, quod medium est, atque inter utrumque, probamus. 
 
 Nee volo, quod cruciat; nee volo, quod satiat. 
 
 Line 11, She should be allowed her passions: "Professor Winchester 
 reminds me of the wonderful realization of the ideal of this stanza 
 by Shakespeare in the * infinite variety ' of his Cleopatra." (Prof. 
 Schelling in A Book of Elizabethan Lyrics.) Line 13, Froward: in 
 sense of wilful. Line 19, Delicates: charms. 
 
 Page 58, No. 63 — Maid, will you Ivve me, yea or no? From 
 A handful of Pleasant Delights, a miscellany edited by Clement 
 Robinson in 1584. The full title given in the Miscellany is: A 
 Proper Wooing-Song, intituled, Maid, will ye love me, yea or no? 
 to the tune of The Merchant's Daughter went over the Field. 
 I have followed Mr. Quiller-Couch's text and omitted the four 
 concluding stanzas. 
 
 Page 59, No. 64 — Love in my bosom, like a bee. From Rosa- 
 lind, 1590. " A charming picture in the purest style of the later 
 Italian Renaissance." (Palgrave, in The Golden Treasury, First 
 Series.) Line 34, / like of thee: I am pleased with thee. Com- 
 pare : " You have been bolder in my house than I could well like 
 of." — Middleton, A Chaste Maid in Cheapside, Bullen's Ed., vol. v. 
 
 Page 60, No. 65 — Shall I tell you whom I love? From Britan- 
 nia's Pastorals, Bk. ii., song 2, lines 193-222. " That this charm- 
 ing song was rightly appreciated as it circulated in MS. among the 
 poet's friends is clear from allusions to it by John Olney in his 
 verses prefixed to Browne's Shepherd's Pipe, 1614. It has been set 
 to music by Dr. S. S. Wesley." (Gordon Goodwin.) 
 
 Page 61, No. 66 — - It was a lover and his lass. From As You 
 Like It; 1600, act v. sc. 3. 
 
 699 
 
NOTES 
 
 Page 62, No. 67 — Tell me, thou skilful shepherd swain. From 
 Drayton's Pastorals, the Ninth Eclogue. The roundelay is a dia- 
 logue between two shepherds, Motto and Perkin; the first speaking 
 in the Roman letters and the second in Italics. In earlier editions 
 the last line of the sixth stanza reads, To crown thy Syl. : Sylvia, 
 in whose praise the song is made. 
 
 Page 63, No. 68 — "Hey, down a down!" did Dian sing. 
 From England's Helicon, 1600, where it was signed " Ignoto." 
 
 Page 64, No. 69 — O mistress mine, where are you roaming? 
 From Twelfth Night, 1601, act ii. so. 3. Chappell (1. 209) says this 
 song was printed in both editions of Morley's Consort Lessons, 
 1599 and 1611. It also appeared in Queen Elisabeth's Virginal 
 Book, 1603, arranged by William Byrd. On this assumption Dyce 
 says: " As it is to be found in print in 1599, it proves either that 
 Twelfth Night was written in or before that year, or that, in 
 accordance with the then prevailing custom, O mistress mine was 
 an old song introduced into the play." Line 11, Sweet-and-twenty : 
 a phrase of endearment. For commentaries of this phrase see 
 Dr. Furness' Variorum Ed. Shakespeare, vol. xiii., pp. 114-15-16. 
 
 Page 65, No. 70 — Brown is my love but graceful. From the 
 Second Book of Musica Transalpina, 1597. Prof. Schelling says: 
 " The titles of Yonge's two collections show that the words as 
 well as the music were originally Italian." 
 
 Page 66, No. 72 — O that joy so soon should waste. From 
 Cynthia's Revels, 1601. 
 
 Page 67, No. 74 — Faustina hath the fairer face. From Davison's 
 Poetical Rhapsody, 1602. 
 
 Page 67, No. 75 — Fair and fair, and twice so fair. From The 
 Arraignment _ of Paris, 1584, act i. sc. 2. I think the context in 
 which this ditty is set so full of beauty, I quote it: 
 
 Paris. Nay, what thou wilt: but sith my cunning wit compares 
 with thine. 
 Begin some toy that I can play upon this pipe of mine. 
 
 Qinone. There is a pretty sonnet, then, we call it Cupid's Curse, 
 " They that do change old love for new, pray gods they change for 
 
 worse." 
 The note is fine and quick withal, the ditty will agree, 
 Paris, with that same vow of thine upon our poplar-tree. 
 
 Par. No better thing; begin it then: OSnone, thou shalt see 
 Our music figure of the love that grows 'twixt thee and me. 
 
 They sing; and while CEnone singeth, he pipeth. — Fair and fair, 
 etc. 
 
 This old and passionate ditty — the very flower of an old 
 forgotten pastoral — which, had it been in all parts equal, the 
 Faithful Shepherdess of Fletcher had been but a second name, in 
 this sort of writing. — (Charles Lamb.) 
 
 Page 68, No. 76 — On a hill there grows a Hower. This poem of 
 Breton's was first printed in England's Helicon, 1600. The orig- 
 inal is with the Cosens MS., which varies slightly in the spelling 
 
 700 
 
NOTES 
 
 and contains one additional closing stanza, " which certainly rounds 
 the poem well." (Grosart.) It reads: 
 
 Make him live that dying long 
 
 Never durst for comfort seek; 
 Thou shalt hear so sweet a song 
 
 Never shepherd sang the like. 
 
 " A stronger and finer piece of work than any known to be his," 
 is Mr. Palgrave's opinion of this poem, and Prof. Schelling's state- 
 ment that " the charming particularity of these two stanzas (first 
 and second) as to trifles might teach the lesser pre-Raphaelites 
 somewhat," is an interesting comment. 
 
 Page 70, No. 11 — It was a valley gaudy-green. From Fran- 
 cesco's Fortunes: or the Second Part of Never Too Late, 1590. 
 Line 62, Love's braid: Prof. Churton-Collins, in his exhaustive 
 edition of the Plays and Poems of Greene, says: "This is not 
 .easy to explain. Dyce suggests that it means crafts, deceits, and 
 'quotes All's Well that Ends Well, iv. 2. 13, 'Since Frenchmen 
 are so braid.' The N. E. D., which connects it with the Old Norse 
 bregdask, to change unexpectedly, to deceive, gives some instances 
 of the word being apparently used in this sense, as in Robert of 
 Brunne, Chronicle, " Full still away he went, that was a theue's 
 braid." Its more obvious meaning, about which there can be no 
 ambiguity, is in the sense of assaults and attacks, as in Golding's 
 Translation of Ovid's Met. xiii., ' To have Ulysses ever a companion 
 of the braid.' The original meaning of the word indicated a sudden 
 movement (A. S. bregdan), and from this have been deduced 
 the various meanings attached to it." The text here followed is 
 from Prof. Churton Collins' edition of Plays and Poems of Greene, 
 collated from the Second and Third Quartos of 1615 and 1631. 
 Line 21, Folded: interlocked. 
 
 Page 73, No. 79 — The Nightingale, as soon as April bringeth. 
 Dr. Grosart says, " The Nightingale is certainly a song of the Stella 
 series. It is taken from the folio Arcadia, ed. 1598. It is given 
 to the tune of " Non credo giache pici infelice amante." Line 9, 
 O Philomela fair, etc. Though Sidney here makes Philomela the 
 victim of Tereus' force, the myth in transmission differs, and Procne 
 (the swallow) is alternately made to suffer his violence. The 
 legend, however, is one that is made much of by the Elizabethan 
 poets in allusion of the sisters' tragedy; while Philomela has been 
 a favorite figure in the entire range of our poetry. I quote the 
 myth as given in Bulfinch's Age of Fable: " Pandion had two 
 daughters, Procne and Philomela, the former of whom became 
 queen to Tereus, King of Thrace. After the birth of their son 
 Itylus, the king cut out his wife's tongue, and gave out that she 
 was dead. He then married Philomela. Procne wove her story 
 in a web, by which means Philomela was informed of the terrible 
 fact. The sisters then slew the child Itylus, and served his flesh 
 upon his father's table. The gods were angry, and in vengeance 
 transformed Procne into a swallow and Philomela into a nightin- 
 gale, ever lamenting the tragedy, and Tereus a hawk, ever pur- 
 suing the two." 
 
 Page 74, No. 80 — My bonny lass, thine eye. From The Phoenix' 
 Nest, 1593. "For the first time in miscellany literature," Mr. 
 
NOTES 
 
 Erskine writes in his Study of The Elizabethan Lyric (Ed. 1905): 
 " complicated forms are used without disturbing the lightness of 
 the song, as in the lyric by Thomas Lodge, beginning: " My bonnie 
 Lass," etc. It is easy to recognize the theme of the love-plaint in 
 this opening stanza, but the manner is quite new; the song-quality, 
 lightness of word and imagery, has become more important than 
 the subject-matter. This is the first example in the miscellanies 
 of this Elizabethan trait — a joyous treatment of ostensibly un- 
 happy themes, often practised by Shakespeare, as in ' Sigh no 
 more, ladies, sigh no more! ' The trait defies analysis, and later 
 becomes familiar in the Cavalier lyrics." 
 
 Page 76, No. 81 — Now what is Love, I pray thee, tell? Mr. 
 BuUen says: "This poem originally appeared in The Phoenix' Nest, 
 1593; it is also printed (in form of a dialogue) in England's Heli- 
 con, 1600, and Davison's Poetical Rhapsody, 1602. It is ascribed 
 to Raleigh in a MS. list of Davison's." (Lyrics from the Eliza- 
 bethan Song-Books.) As with Prof. Schelling, The Phoenix' Nest 
 has been inaccessible to me; I quote his note from A Book of 
 Elizabethan Lyrics: " 1 can find this poem in neither Mr. Bullen's 
 ed. of England's Helicon, nor in Nicholas' ed. of the Rhapsody, 
 moreover neither the older nor the newer ed. of Hannah's Raleigh 
 mentions it so far as I can discover. The poem does occur in 
 Robert Jones' Second Book, 1601 (see Bullen, ibid., p. 89), and 
 also in Hey wood's Rape of Lucrece, 1609. I notice that Mr. Gosse 
 appears recently to have accepted it as Heywood's. (The Jacobean 
 Poets, p. 121.) This seems highly improbable. In the absence of 
 proofs I have no opinion to offer. The somewhat antiquated lan- 
 guage, especially the sauncing bell, seems to suggest an early date, 
 however." Line 4, Sauncing bell: saints' -bell (quod ad sancta 
 vocat); the little bell that called to prayers. Another form is 
 " sacring bell," the bell that is sounded at the elevation of the Host, 
 (Bullen.) Line 18, Sain: p.p. of say. 
 
 Page 79, No. 84 — Lady, when I behold the roses sprouting. 
 From John Wilbye's Madrigals, 1598. It is a translation from the 
 Italian. There is another and poorer translation made by Lodge 
 and printed earlier, in his The Life and Death of William Long- 
 beard. 
 
 Page 79, No. 85 — Love guards the Roses of thy lips. From 
 Lodge's Phillis. Love guides the roses, is the reading of the old 
 editions. Mr. Bullen thinks guides a misprint for guild es; gulxrds, 
 however, is "even more obvious" (Quiller-Couch), and is generally 
 given, though Prof. Schelling has gilds. 
 
 Page 80, No. 86 — Love for such a cherry lip. From Blurt, 
 
 Master Constable, 1602. Line 7, Owe: own. Line 10, Wait: attend 
 
 as cup-bearer. Line 11, Phoebe here one night did lie: i. e., should 
 Phcebe lie here one night. 
 
 Page 81, No. 88 — Who hath his fancy pleased. To the tune of 
 ' Wilhelmus van Nassau/ etc. From Certaine Sonets, 1598. In 
 702 
 
NOTES 
 
 Dr. Grosart's ed. of Sidney's Poems, it is given in the division of 
 Pansies from Penshurst and Wilton, vol. ii., p. 56. 
 
 Page 82, No. 89 — Pretty twinkling starry eyes. Sonnet 11, in 
 The Passionate Shepherd, 1604. Two stanzas have been omitted 
 from the text, which the editor regrets, and they are inserted here: 
 
 Sure ye were not made at first. 
 
 For such mischief to be cursl : 
 
 As to kill affection's care, 
 
 That doth only truth declare. 
 
 Where worth's wonders never witiier, 
 
 Love and Beauty live together. 
 
 Blessed eyes then give your blessing. 
 That in passion's best expressing: 
 Love that only lives to grace >e. 
 May not suffer pride deface ye. 
 But in gentle thought's directions, 
 Show the praise of your perfections. 
 
 Page 83, No. 91 — Those eyes that set my fancy on a -fire. 
 From William Barley's New Book of Tabliture, 1596. Prof. 
 Schelling's note on this sonnet is so very interesting and in- 
 structive that I quote it entire: "It will be noticed that the 
 construction of this sonnet is quite a piece of artifice. The four 
 words, eyes, hairs, hands, and wit, are spread out, as it were, 
 successively, each briefly characterized, and then gathered back intO 
 one in the question: Then Love be judge, etc. These words are 
 again spread forth in the same order, with a characterization, and 
 lastly each is apostrophized." (A Book of Elizabethan Lyrics.) 
 Mr. BuUen, in the Introduction to his Lyrics from the Elizabethan 
 Song Books, says: " One sonnet {Those eyes, etc.) is from William 
 Barley's very rare New Book of Tabliture, 1596: it had previ- 
 ously appeared in The Phanix' Nest, 1593. The concluding lines 
 are in the great Elizabethan style — ' O eyes that pierce,' etc. 
 This sonnet is freely translated from Philippe Desportes; but the 
 anonymous translator has surpassed the French poet." Line 12, That 
 wear a royal crown: The suggestion in the Percy Society Publica- 
 tions, xiii., 37, is that this sonnet was originally addressed to Queen 
 Elizabeth. Prof. Schelling's " but assuredly the Queen's auburn 
 locks could not be designated ' hairs of night,' " leads to doubtful 
 conclusions. Line 5, What heart may there withstand: May there- 
 with stand. (BuUen.) 
 
 Page 83, No. 92 — Drink to me only with thine eyes. From 
 The Forest, 1616. Mr. Quiller-Couch says: " It is one of Ben 
 Jonson's distinctions among English poets that he contrives to be 
 most spontaneous when most imitative. This immortally careless 
 rapture is meticulously pieced together from scraps of the Love 
 Letters of Philostratus, a Greek rhetorician of the second century 
 A. D." {The Golden Pomp.) Compare Herrick's Upon a Virgin 
 Kissing a Rose, Hesperides, 144. 
 
 Page 84, No. 93 — Behold a wonder here. From John Dow- 
 land's Third and Last Book of Songs and Airs, 1603. 
 
NOTES 
 
 Page 85, No. 94 — Those eyes that hold the hand of every 
 heart. First printed in The Arbor of Amorous Devises. _ In Dr. 
 Grosart's edition of Breton he gives the date, 1597. Lines 1-2, 
 Those eyes, etc. : Prof. Schelling marks the similarity of these 
 lines to Hood's: 
 
 We thought her dying when she slept. 
 And sleeping when she died. 
 
 and adds, " It seems to me the perfection of the light, fantastic 
 rapture of an Elizabethan lover." {A Book of Elizabethan Lyrics.) 
 
 Page 86, No. 96 — Bright Star of Beauty, on whose eye-lids sit. 
 Line 4, Which in due order: then in order. Line 8, Forsook his 
 mother's: and leaves his mother's. Line 10, Of another temper 
 made: of braver mettle made. Line 12, Devouring time my faith: 
 in me's that faith. Line 13, Still let my praise be honoured thus 
 by you: let what I praise, be still be made good by you. On whose 
 eye-lids sit, etc. " Cf . Spenser, Faery Qjieene, ii., 3, 25: 'Upon 
 her eye-lids many graces sat. . . . working belgards and amorous 
 retrate.' " Cf. also Ford and Dekker's The Sun's Darling, act iii. 
 sc. 2. " I am indebted for these parallels to Professor Kittredge." 
 (Prof. Schelling, A Book of Elizabethan Lyrics.) 
 
 Page 87, No. 97 — What poor astronomers are they. Like mariy 
 another good piece unaccessible elsewhere, I have taken this lyric 
 from Mr. Bullen's Lyrics from the Elizabethan Song Books (re- 
 vised ed., 1888). " This poem has been ascribed, without evi- 
 dence, to Nicholas Breton." (Bullen.) 
 
 Page 88, No. 98 — Her hair the net of golden wire. From 
 Thomas Bateson's Second Set of Madrigals, 1618. 
 
 Page 89, No. 102 — Thou more than most sweet glove. From 
 Cynthia's Revels, 1601. 
 
 Page 90, No. 103 — So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not. 
 From Love's Labour's Lost, 1592, act iv. sc. 3. Sung by the King of : 
 Navarre. Line 4, The night of dew: "It is not the dew," _ says 
 Brae, "that is the object of the verb, but the night; metaphorically 
 predicated in the dew upon the lover's cheek. And it is not until , 
 after the night has been smoote and driven away by the sunny 
 rays of his mistress's eyes, that the dew upon the lover's cheek 
 becomes assimilated to the morning dew upon the rose." 
 
 Page 90, No. 104 — Still to be neat, still to be drest. From 
 Epicoene, or the Silent Woman, 1609, act i. sc. 1. ^ 
 
 Clerimont: "A pox of her autumnal face, her pie'd beauty: I 
 there's no man can be admitted till she be ready, now-a-days, till j|* 
 she has painted, and perfum'd, and washt, and scour'd, but the 
 boy here ; and him she wipes her qil'd lips upon, like a sponge. 
 I have made a song I pr'ythee hear it, o' the subject. '' Still to be 
 neat,' " etc. 
 
 This elegant little madrigal is a happy imitation from the follow- 
 ing Latin poem: 
 
 Semper munditias, semper, Basilissa, decores. 
 Semper compositas arte recente comas. 
 
NOTES 
 
 Et comptos semper cultus, unguentaque semper. 
 
 Omnia sollicita compta videre manu, 
 Non amo. Neglectim mihi se quje comit arnica 
 
 Se det; et ornatus simplicitate valet. 
 Vincula ne cures capitis discussa soluti, 
 
 Nee ceram in faciem: -mel habet ilia suum. 
 Fingere se semper, non est confidere amori; 
 
 Quid quod saepe decor, cum prohibetur, adest? 
 
 The learned may find these verses amongst those which are printed 
 at the end of the variorum edition of Petronius. Mr. Upton 
 imagines there are some passages faulty in this poem. I have 
 given it as I find it in the notes of Colomesius on some passages 
 of Quintilian, printed in his Opuscula; he tells us, Hi versus sic 
 legendi sunt, licet alid abeat ingeniossinius Nicolaus Heinsius ad 
 Ovidium. Tom. 1., p. 394. (Whalley, The Dramatic Works of Ben 
 Jonson, 1811, vol. i., p. 285.) 
 
 Page 91, No. 106 — A sweet disorder in the dress. Compare 
 Ben Jonson's song in The Silent Woman (note above), Still to be 
 neat, still to be drest, imitated from one of the Basia of Johannes 
 Boniforius. Line 12, Wild civility: Good manners, easiness. Mil- 
 ton has " civil-suited m_orn " {II Penseroso, line 122) ; later Dry- 
 den, the " Sweet civilities of life." (Grosart.) 
 
 Page 93, No. 109 — In petticoat of green. "I am not certain," 
 says Prof. Schelling, " that this little trifle may not have ap- 
 peared in print in its author's life-time. Prof. Kittredge calls 
 my attention to the fact that it is taken from Marino, Madrigal 
 xxxi." Line 2, This line is used again by Drummond in Madrigal 
 xl., of Poems, TurnbuU's ed., p. 25: 
 
 Like the Idalian queen, 
 Her hair about her eyne. 
 
 Page 93, No. 110 — Art thou that she than whom, no fairer is? 
 This poem was discovered by Mr. Bullen in MS. I., 5, 49, in the 
 Library of Christ Church College, Oxford, and first printed in 
 his More Lyrics from the Elizabethan Song-Books, 1888. Prof. 
 Schelling thinks that the MS. belongs to the early seventeenth 
 century. 
 
 Page 94, No. 112 — O words, which fall like summer dew on me! 
 From the Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia, 1590. Line 14, So 
 smooth as sleek-stone : a smoothing-stone for smoothing or dress- 
 ing linen or butter. 
 
 Page 95, No. 113 — See, see m,ine own sweet jewel. From 
 Thomas Morley's Canzonets, 1593. 
 
 Page 95, No. 114 — /, with whose colours Myra dressed her 
 head. There is a stanza in the original edition of Lord Brooke's 
 Works, 1633, between the third and fourth stanzas, which is 
 omitted here, because the poem gains immensely by the omission, 
 and it possesses allusions which have been impossible for any 
 editor to make clear. Prof. Schelling prints the deleted stanza 
 with his text of the poem in A Book of Elizabethan Lyrics, 
 p. 221. Line 3, In the chimneys: cheminees, chimney-screens of 
 
 705 
 
NOTES 
 
 tapestry work, i. e., Myra having embroidered his name upon the 
 screen. 
 
 Page 96, No. 115 — The forward violet thus did I chide. Sonnet 
 xcix., Shakespeare's Sonnettes, 1609. Line 6, The lily 1 con- 
 demned for thy hand: i. e., condemns the lily for having stolen 
 the whiteness of thy hand. Line 7, And buds of marjoram: cf. 
 Suckling's Tragedy of Brennoralt, act iv. sc. 1 : 
 
 Hair curling, and cover'd like buds of marjoram; 
 Part tied in negligence, part loosely flowing. 
 
 " Mr, H. C. Hart tells me," writes Prof. Dowden {The Son- 
 nets of Shakespeare, p. 214), "that buds of marjoram are dark 
 purple-red before they open, and afterwards pink; dark auburn, 
 I suppose, would be the nearest approach to marjoram in the 
 colour of hair. Mr. Hart suggests that the marjoram has stolen 
 not colour, but perfume from the young man's hair. Gervase Mark- 
 ham gives sweet marjoram as an ingredient in ' The water of sweet 
 smells,' and Culpepper says ' marjoram is much used in all odorif- 
 erous waters.' Cole {Adam in Eden, ed. 1657) says * Marjerome 
 is a chief ingredient in most of those powders that Barbers use, 
 in whose shops I have seen great store of this herb hung up.' " 
 Line 8, On thorns did stand: an old proverbial phrase — to stand 
 on thorns. Line 12, A vengeful canker eat him: cf. Venus and 
 Adonis, line 1,656: 
 
 This canker that eats up Love's tender spring. 
 
 Line 14, But sweet or colour: scents. (Walker.) 
 
 Page 97, No. 117 — Like to Diana in her Summer weed. From 
 Greene's romance, Menaphon, 1589, " What manner of woman is 
 she?" quoth Melicertus. "As well as I can," answered Doron, "I 
 will make description of her: Like to Diana," etc. " Thou hast," 
 quoth Melicertus, " made such a description as if Priamus' young 
 boy should paint out the perfection of his Greekish paramour." 
 Line 5, Arethusa Fount: Walker's reading in the original edition 
 is Arethusa faint. 
 
 Page 98, No. 117 — There is a Lady sweet and kind. From 
 Thomas Ford's Music of Sundry Kinds, 1607. Also printed in 
 The Golden Garland of Princely Delights, 1620. 
 
 Page 98, No. 118 — Sweet Love, mine only pleasure. This is 
 one of the many poems published in Davison's Poetical Rhapsody, 
 1620, signed " A. W.," whose identity has never been revealed. 
 It was set to music in Robert Jones' Ultimum Vale, 1608. 
 
 Page 104, No. 104 — You meaner beauties of the night. This 
 poem first appeared, with music, in 1624, in Michael Este's Sixt 
 Set of Books, and was numerously reprinted in divers collections 
 for fifty years afterwards. Sir Henry Wotton, its author, was 
 not the amorous man that his poem paints him. At the time of 
 its writing he was a staid diplomatist of 52. The lady it praises 
 was Elizabeth, daughter of James I. and wife of the Elector 
 Palatine Frederick V., unhappily chosen King of Bohemia, Sep- 
 tember 19, 1619. Sir Henry, says Quiller-Couch, was employed on 
 
 706 
 
NOTES 
 
 several embassies on behalf of this unhappy Queen, whose reign in 
 Prague lasted but one winter. Howell reports in Familiar Letters 
 that in " the Low Countries and some parts of Germany she is 
 called the Queen of Boheme, and for her winning princely com- 
 portment the Queen of Hearts." " Her later life, ' says Trof. 
 Schelling {A Book of Elizabethan Lyrics, p. 294), " was one 
 of much trial and vicissitude, through which she appears to have 
 preserved the amiability and something of the levity of the Stu- 
 arts." This poem has been ascribed to Montrose, and even by 
 Robert Chambers, in his Scottish Songs, to " Darnly in praise of 
 Queen Alary before their marriage." Hannah, quoting Rel. IVotton, 
 records many variations in the words; and Quiller-Couch adds 
 that the poem invited many imitators to add to it stanzas of 
 their own manufacture. Line 1, You meaner beauties: cf. Carew's 
 line: 
 
 O think not ... 
 
 Can stoop to common beauties of the sky. 
 
 Page 105, No. 121 — Gi^'e place, you ladies and begone, ap- 
 peared originally in the first English anthology, Tottel's Miscel- 
 lany, 1557. There it is given place among the poems by " Uncer- 
 taine Authors; " but in the Harleian MSS. it is ascribed to John 
 Heywood, with two additional and dreadful stanzas to adapt it 
 to Queen Mary. 
 
 Page 108, No. 123 — See where she sits upon the grassy green. 
 An extract from the Shepherd's Calendar: April. The same 
 being " purposely intended to the honour and prayse of our most 
 gratious soveraigne, queene Elizabeth . . . whom abruptly he 
 termeth Eliza." The original song is of fourteen stanzas. " The 
 opulence of Spenser's muse will always be the despair of the 
 anthologist, and I commend my extracts to the reader with much 
 diffidence," writes Mr. Quiller-Couch, in the Golden Pomp; I 
 have followed the reading of his extract to which he has given 
 the qualities of a lyric poem. Line 15, Depeinten: depicts. Line 
 23, Bin: are. 
 
 Page 109, No. 124 — Whoe'er she be. This, perhaps, the best 
 known of Crashaw's poems, though it ill-deserves to be, in com- 
 parison with two among the other of his pieces included in this 
 volume; it originally appeared in The Delights of the Muses, 1646. 
 The volume was reprinted in 1648 and 1670. The text here fol- 
 lowed is that of Dr. Grosart (Complete Works of Richard Crashaw, 
 Fuller Worthies' Library) from the 1648 ed., with the omission 
 of one stanza between the eighth and ninth, two stanzas between 
 twenty-three and twenty-four, and two stanzas between the thirtieth 
 and thirty-first. " His Wishes to his (supposed) Mistresse has 
 things in it vivid and subtle as anything in Shelley at his best; 
 and I affirm this deliberately." (Dr. Grosart, in Essay on the Life 
 and Poetry of Crashaw, p. Ixxiv. Complete Works.) Line 37, 
 Eyes that displace: "Here, as in the poem. On the bleeding wounds 
 of our crucified Lord where we read, ' The thorns that Thy flesh 
 brows encloses,' and elsewhere, we have an example of the Eliza- 
 bethan use of ' that ' as a singular (referring to and thus made 
 a collective plural) taken as the governing nominative to the rest." 
 (Grosart.) Line 64, Fears, fond and slight: Dr. Grosart reads 
 flight, and says, " I think ' flight ' is correct, and not a misprint for 
 
 707 
 
NOTES 
 
 'slight.'" Line 79, Sydneian showers: "Either in allusion to the 
 conversation in the Arcadia, or to Sidney himself, as a model of 
 gentleness in spirit and demeanor." (F. T. Palgrave, Golden Treas- 
 ury, First Series.) 
 
 Page 114, No. 125 — Like to the clear in highest sphere. From 
 Rosalind, 1590. " Readers who have visited Italy will be reminded 
 of more than one picture by this gorgeous Vision of Beauty, 
 equally sublime and pure in its Paradisaical naturalness. Lodge 
 wrote it on a voyage to 'the Islands of Terceras and the Canaries; ' 
 and he seems to have caught, in those southern seas, no small 
 portion of the qualities which marked the almost contemporary 
 Art of Venice, — the glory and the glow of Veronese, or Titian, or 
 Tintoret, when he most resembles Titian, and all but surpasses him." 
 (F. T. Palgrave, Golden Treasury, First Series.) Line 1, Like to the 
 clear . . . is her hair. " The clear (clearness) in highest sphere 
 is the empyrean or sphere of pure fire, which was outermost and 
 next to the primum mobile in the old cosmography, not the crys- 
 talline sphere as explained by Mr. Palgrave. This passage then 
 means: Her hair is of the self same color as the brightness (the 
 clear) of the empyrean. The difficulty of the passage consists in 
 the tautology, or possibly the double construction, involved m 
 saying like to and of self same, of the same color like to the 
 empyreal brightness. I am indebted to Professor Kittredge for this 
 note." (Schelling, A Book of Elisabethan Lyrics.) 
 
 Page 116, No. 126 — Diaphenia like the daffadowndilly. Printed 
 in England's Helicon, 1600; and set to music in Francis Pilking- 
 ton's First Book of Songs and Airs, 1605. 
 
 Page 121, No. 130 — Since first I saw your face I resolved to 
 honour and renown ye. From Thomas Ford's Music of Sundry 
 Kinds, 1607. 
 
 Page 122, No. 131 — When in the chronicle of wasted time. 
 Sonnet cvi. Shakespeare' s Sonnettes, 1609. The poet gazes back- 
 ward on the famous persons of former ages, men and women, his 
 friend being possessor of the united perfections of both man and 
 woman. (Dowden.) Line 8, Master: possess, own as a master. 
 So King Henry V., act ii. sc. 4, 137: 
 
 You'll find a difference 
 
 Between the promise of his greener days 
 And these he masters now. 
 
 (Dowden.) 
 
 Line 9, So all their praises are: Compare Constable's Sonnets from 
 Todd's MS., vii. (not Diana as Prof. Dowden has it). — Schelling. 
 
 Miracle of the world I never will deny 
 That former poets praise the beauty of their days; 
 But all those beauties were but figures of thy praise, 
 And all those poets did of thee but prophecy. 
 
 Page 124, No. 134 — Beauty clear and fair. From The Elder 
 Brother, 1637, act iii. sc. 5. Line 5, Their blue veins and: the 
 reading of and here instead of in, as retained by Dyce, is from 
 
 708 
 
NOTES 
 
 the MS. J which " happily puts an end to the nonsense which has 
 been written concerning this passage." (W. W. Greg. Variorum 
 Ed. Beaumont and Fletcher, Vol. II.) Line 11, More than light: 
 the emendation here is by Dyce, the MS. reads life. Line 13, Back 
 recall: recite (meaning call back). Fleay. (W. W. Greg.) Line 
 17, Shall be yours . . . and your thrall: The MS. reads: Shall be 
 yours still, and the glory, I yoiir servant, etc. " Here again the 
 divergence points clearly to an intentional alteration." (W. W. 
 Greg.) 
 
 Page 125, No. XiS — Like two proud armies marching in the 
 field. From Thomas Weelkes' Madrigals of Five and Six Parts, 
 1600. 
 
 Page 125, No. 136 -^ He that loves a rosy cheek. Under the 
 less attractive title. Disdain Returned, this poem is to be found 
 in the editions of Carew, with a closing third stanza. The poem 
 as here given was set to music and printed in Porter's Madrigals 
 and Airs, 1632, and later in Lawes' Ayres and Dialogues, 1653. 
 
 Page 125, No. 137 — It was a beauty that I saw. From The 
 New Inn, 1631, act iv. sc. 4. 
 
 Page 126, No. 138 — Why should this a desert be? From As You 
 Like It, act iii. sc. 2. Line 1, Why should this a desert be: Tyrwhitt 
 thinks desert be is defective. He suggests a desert, and adds: 
 " For how will the ' hanging of tongues on every tree ' make it 
 less a desert? I am persuaded we ought to read: ' Why should 
 this_ desert silent be.'" Line 16, In little: The allusion to a 
 miniature portrait. The current phrase in Shakespeare's time was 
 "painted in little." Line 23, Atalanta's better part. This is ob- 
 scure; for a discussion see Furness' Variorum Ed. Shakespeare, 
 pp. 149-153. 
 
 Page 127, No. 139 — On a time the amorous Silvy. From John 
 Attye's First Book of Airs, 1622. " Gracefully rendered from the 
 French of Pierre Guedron: 
 
 " Un jour I'amoureuse Silvie 
 
 Disoit, baise moy, je te prie, 
 
 Au berger qui seul est sa vie 
 
 Et son amour: 
 
 Baise moy, pasteur, je te prie, 
 
 Et te leve, car il est jour," etc. 
 
 (Bullen. Lyrics from Elizabethan Song-Books.) 
 
 Page 128, No. 140 — My sweetest Lesbia, let us live and love. 
 From Campion's Book of Airs, 1601. This poem was suggested by 
 and partly translated from Catullus' Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque 
 amenius. " Campion was steeped in classical feeling; his render- 
 ing of Vivamus, mea Lesbia, etc. is, so far as it goes, delight- 
 ful." (Bullen. Introduction to Lyrics from Elizabethan Song- 
 Books.) Compare Jonson's Vivamus, p. 128, No. 141. 
 
 Page 130, No. 143 — Dildido, dildido. From Francesco's For- 
 tunes, or the Second Part of Never Too Late, 1590. " The 
 French verses may ... be expected to be Greene's own compo- 
 sition; such an hiatus as je serai un jeune roi would scarcely 
 
 709 
 
NOTES 
 
 have been possible in a French poet." (Churton-Collins.) Line 6, 
 Stoned-horse : a stallion. Cf. s. v. entier, cheval entier, a stone- 
 horse. 
 
 Page 131, No. 144 — Of Neptune's empire let us sing. This 
 poem of Campion's was printed in Davison's Poetical Rhapsody, 
 1602, with the explanation: "This Hymn was sung by Amphitrite, 
 Thamesis, and other Sea-Nymphs, in Gray's Inn Masque, at the 
 Court, 1594." See Bullen's ed. of Rhapsody, Vol. II., pp. 107-8. 
 
 Page 131, No. 145 — Methought I saw the grave where Laura 
 lay. This, perhaps, is the most famous and the best of all the 
 prefatory poems to the Faerie Queene. 
 
 Page 132, No. 146 — 7/ all the pens that ever poets held. This 
 is the only instance where I have made an extract from the body 
 of a play of the period. But as there is little of Marlowe's outside 
 his dramatic works, and as his genius is worthy of more representa- 
 tion than is given to lesser men, I took this opportunity of going 
 beyond the scope of verse I had conceived for my purpose. The 
 lines are from Tamburlaine's speech, in act v. sc. 1 of The First 
 Part of Tamburlaine the Great. 
 
 Page 135, No. 150 — Come hither, you that love, and hear me 
 sing. From The Captain, 1647. 
 
 Page 136, No. 151 — I love, and he loves me again. From 
 Underwoods, 1640. " A Nymph's Passion is not only pretty and 
 ingenious, but in the structure of its peculiar stanza may remind 
 a modern reader of some among the many metrical experiments or 
 inventions of a more exquisite and spontaneous lyric poet. Miss 
 Christina Rpssetti." (A. C. Swinburne, A Study of Ben Jonson.) 
 Prof. Scheliing points out the influence of Donne in this poem 
 of Jonson's, and cites his Witchcraft by a Picture and Confined 
 Love. (A Book of Elizabethan Lyrics.) 
 
 Page 137, No. 152 — When in her face mine eyes I fix. From 
 Aurora, Madrigal I. 
 
 Page 139, No. 154 — Phillis kept sheep along the western plains. 
 From Perimedes, the Blacksmith, 1588. 
 
 Page 140, No. 155 — See the Chariot at hand here of Love. 
 This song is numbered iv., in A Celebration of _ Charis, in Under- 
 woods. It appears with the first stanza omitted in The Devil is an 
 Ass, acted in 1616. There is an interesting note to this poem by 
 Mr. Quiller-Couch in his Golden Pomp, whose point, I think, is 
 one demanding serious critical attention, though no one, to my 
 knowledge, has taken it up. " I am not aware," he says, " if any 
 critic has noted how constantly and curiously Jonson, especially in 
 the Underwoods, seems to anticipate the best, and something more 
 than the best, manner of Browning. The difficult rapture of Charis' 
 Triumph, here is a striking instance. Of the lines: 
 
 ' Do but mark, her forehead's smoother 
 
 Than words that soothe her. 
 And from her arched brows such a grace 
 
 Sheds itself through the face, 
 
 710 
 
NOTES 
 
 As alone there triumphs to the life 
 
 All the gain, all the good of the elements' strife.' 
 
 it may be fairly said that England has taken two and a half cen- 
 turies to produce another poet who could conceivably have written 
 them." I think Mr. Quiller-Couch's judgment in this criticism 
 comes far nearer the just fitness of literary value in temperament 
 and expression than the general critical opinion which pronounces 
 in Donne's works the antecedents of those peculiar qualities which 
 have set Browning apart from his contemporaries. The last stanza 
 of this poem was imitated by Suckling in a poem of much weak- 
 ness, beginning: "Hast thou seen the down in the air," etc.; but 
 in Carew's Song, given below, I believe we find a successful copy 
 of the model: 
 
 Would you know what's soft? I dare 
 Not bring to you 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 'tis done. 
 
 {Poems and Masque, Elworth Ed., 1893.) 
 
 Page 142, No. 157 — Cupid and my Campaspe play'd. From 
 Alexander and Campaspe, acted, it is surmised, at Court, 1581. 
 
 Page 143, No, 158 — Sweet Love, if thou wilt gain a m,onarch's 
 glory. From John Wilbye's Madrigal's, 1598. 
 
 Page 143, No. 159 — Hear, ye ladies that despise. From The 
 Tragedy of Valentinian, 1647. 
 
 Page 145, No. 161 — Unquiet thoughts, your civil slaughter stint. 
 From John Dowland's First Book of Songs or Airs, 1597. 
 
 Page 146, No. 162 — All ye that lovely lovers be. From the 
 Old Wives' Tale, 1595. " Contains a harvest-song, one of tha first 
 examples of what seems a favorite type with the dramatists. 
 Usually it is taken almost directly from life; by the rudeness 
 of phrases and the simplicity of ideas the poet attempts realism. 
 Here, however, Peele carries over the images into another sphere : 
 
 Lo, here we come a-sowing, a-sowing. 
 And sow sweet fruits of love." 
 
 (Erskine: The Elizabethan Lyric, Ed. 1905, p. 264.) 
 
 Page 147, No. 164 — High-Way, since you my chief Parnassus be. 
 Sonnet number Ixxxiv., in Astrophel and Stella, ed. of 1598. 
 Line 1, High-way . . . Parnassus be: "Because it leads him to 
 Stella, the inspiration of his song and the cause of his fame." 
 
 711 
 
NOTES 
 
 (Schelling.) Line 2, Unsweet: in the second quarto the reading is 
 unmeet. " As he is speaking of his Muse, and as we have the 
 rhythm meet, in line six, I think ' unsweet ' the right word . . . 
 or at all events the later and better one." (Grosart.) Line 6, 
 Safe-left: (Ed. 1613) is prettier than " safe-best " (quarto edit., 
 1598)= with Stella." (Grosart.) I take this sonnet of Sidney's 
 to be one of the finest in the language. Perhaps no single line in 
 all poetry, except Shakespeare's " Bare-ruined Choirs where late the 
 sweet birds sang," has contained in its meaning and music so much, 
 as "Tempers her words to trampling horses' feet." 
 
 Of Sidney's Sonnets, Charles Lamb says: "Sidney's Sonnets — 
 I speak of the best of them — are among the very 'best of their 
 sort. They fall below the plain moral dignity, the sanctity, and 
 high, yet modest, spirit of self-approval, of Milton, in his compo- 
 sitions of a similar structure. They are, in truth, what Milton, cen- 
 suring the Arcadia, says of that work (to which they are a sort of 
 after-tune or applications), 'Vain and amatorious ' enough, yet the 
 things in their kind (as he confesses to be true of the romance) 
 may be * full of worth and wit.' They savour of the Courtier, it 
 must be allowed, and not of the Commonwealthsman. But Milton 
 was a Courtier when he wrote the Masque at Ludlow Castle, and 
 still more a Courtier when he composed the Arcades. When the 
 national struggle was to begin, he becomingly cast these vanities 
 behind him; and if the order of time had thrown Sir Philip upon 
 the crisis which proceeded the Revolution, there is no reason why 
 he should not have acted the same part in that emergency, which 
 has glorified the name of a later Sydney. He did not want for 
 plainness or boldness of spirit. His letter on the French match 
 may testify he could speak his mind freely to Princes. The times 
 did not call him to the scaffold. . . . But they are not rich in 
 words only, in vague and unlocalised feelings — the failing too 
 much of some poetry of the present day — they are full, material, 
 and circumstantiated. Time and place appropriates every one of 
 them. It is not a fever of passion wasting itself upon a thin diet 
 of dainty words, but a transcendent passion prevailing and alluminat- 
 ing action, pursuits, studies, feats of arms, the opinions of con- 
 temporaries and his judgement of them. An historical thread runs 
 through them, which almost affixes a date to them; mark the when 
 and where they were written." [Some Sonnets, of Sir Philip Sid- 
 ney, Works of Charles and Mary Lamb. E. V. Lucas. Ed. 1903, 
 pp. 213 and 218.] 
 
 Page 150, No. 169 — Love, if a God thou art. Mr. Bullen says 
 this -.is a translation from the Italian of Groto: 
 
 Amor, se pur sei Dio, 
 
 Dei esser giusto parimente e pio: 
 
 Se giusto, perche sol contra me scocchi, 
 
 E madonna non tocchi? 
 
 Se pio, perche perdoni 
 
 A lei, e a mi ti opponi? 
 
 Horsu se nome vuoi fra i veri Dei, 
 
 Lei meco impiaga, o me sana con lei." 
 
 (Bullen's ed. of the Rhapsody, vol. ii., 185.) 
 
 Page 151, No. 170 — Thus saith my Chloris bright. From John 
 Wilbye's Madrigals, 1598. It is a rendering of an Italian madri- 
 gal of Guarini, says Bullen; of Luca Marenzio, says Quiller-Couch. 
 
 712 
 
NOTES 
 
 In Musica Transalpina; The Second Book of Madrigals, 1597, is 
 another version which reads: 
 
 So saith my fair and beautiful Lycoris, 
 
 When now and then she talketh 
 
 With me of love-: 
 
 " Love is a spirit that walketh, 
 
 That soars and flies, 
 
 And none alive can hold him, 
 
 Nor touch him, nor behold him." 
 
 Yet when her eye she turneth, 
 I spy where he sojourneth: 
 In her eyes there he flies. 
 But none can catch him 
 Till from her lips he fetch him. 
 
 Page 151, No. 171 — How many new years have grown old. 
 From Robert Jones' The Muses' Garden of Delights, 1610. 
 
 Page 152, No. \72 — If love be life, I long to die. I find 
 this "Ode" in Davison's Poetical Rhapsody, 1602 (Bullen's ed.), 
 signed, " A. W." Prof. Schelling says, " This ' ode ' was sub- 
 sequently reprinted in England's Helicon, ed. 1614, and there sub- 
 scribed ' Ignoto.' I see no reason for depriving Davison of the 
 authorship of it; as it is not only in his manner, but occurs ... in 
 a section of the Poetical Rhapsody, entitled Sonnets, Odes, Elegies 
 and Epigrams, by Francis and Walter Davison." (A Book of 
 Elizabethan Lyrics.) 
 
 Page 153, No. 173 — If women could be fair and yet not fond. 
 From the text of Dr. Grosart in his Fuller Worthies' Miscellanies. 
 IV. In Rawl. MS. 85, fol. 16, the poem is ascribed to Oxford. 
 
 Page 154, No. 174 — Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic 
 soul. Sonnet cvii. Shake-speare's Sonnettes, 1609. This sonnet 
 continues the celebration of his friend, according to Prof. Dow- 
 den's interpretation, and rejoices in their restored affection. Mr. 
 Maffey explains it as a song of triumph for the death of Elizabeth, 
 and the deliverance of Southampton from the Tower. " I interpret, 
 as Mr. Simpson does " {Philosophy of Shakespeare's Sonnets, p. 79), 
 writes Prof. Dowden; "not my own fears (that my friend's 
 beauty may be on the wane, Sonnet civ., 9-4 — see No. 545, p. 
 561) nor the prophetic soul of the world, prophesying in the per- 
 sons of dead knights and ladies your perfections (Sonnet civ. — 
 see No. 122, p. 131), and so prefiguring your death, can confine my 
 lease of love to a brief term of years. Darkness and fears are past, 
 the augurs of ill find their predictions falsified, doubts are over, 
 peace has come in place of strife; love in my heart is fresh and 
 young (see Sonnet cviii., line 9), and I have conquered Death, 
 for in this verse we both shall find life in the memories of men." 
 Line 10, My love looks fresh: Prof. Dowden queries whether 
 this means the love in my heart, or my love = my friend. Line 
 11, Death to me subscribes: submits. Cf. The Taming of the 
 Shrew, act i. sc. 1, 81. Line 12, Insults o'er: triumphs over. 
 Cf. King Henry VI., act i. sc. 3, 14. 
 
 Page 155, No. 175 -— Whoever thinks or hopes of love for love. 
 
 713 
 
NOTES 
 
 From John Dowland's First Book of Songs or Airs, 1597. The 
 words of this song have been attributed to Fulke Greville, Lord 
 Brooke, and are printed in his Works, 1630. 
 
 Page 156, No. 177 — Whenas the rye reached to the chin. 
 From The Old Wives' Tale, 1595. 
 
 Page 156, No. 178 — Calling to mind, my eyes went long about. 
 In Oldys and Birch's Ed. of Sir Walter Raleigh's Works, vol. viii., 
 this poem is given from the Ashm.olean MSS. Puttenham gave it 
 in The Art of English Poesey, 1589, as " a most excellent ditty, 
 written by Sir Walter Raleigh." It was printed in The Phoenix' 
 Nest, 1593, as anonymous. 
 
 Page 158, No. 181 — Thou divinest, fairest, brightest. From 
 The Faithful Shepherdess, 1609-10, act v. sc. 5. 
 
 Page 159, No. 182 — Through yon same bending plain. From 
 The Faithful Shepherdess, 1609-10, act i. sc. 1. 
 
 Page 161, No. 183 — Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes 
 intendeth. This first song in Astrophel and Stella is given with 
 but few variants with the text of the 1598 and 1613 Arcadia. I 
 have preferred to retain this reading in preference to Dr. Grosart's 
 {Complete Works, 3 vols., 1877), who reads in line 2, "surcharged," 
 for o'ercharged; and in line 17, "patience " for passions. 
 
 Page 162, No. 184 — Turn back, you wanton flyer. From Cam- 
 pion and Rosseter's A Book of Airs, 1601. Line 19, Times' or sea- 
 sons' swerving: Old ed. changing. Swerving is Mr. Bullen's emen- 
 dation. In the original, and in Mr. Bullen's edition of Campion 
 (1889 and 1891), lines 10-11 read: 
 
 Then what we sow with our lips, 
 Let us reap, love's gains dividing. 
 
 I have preferred, however, to follow Mr. Quiller-Couch's arrange- 
 ment. (Golden Pomp, p. 91.) 
 
 Page 167, No. 188 — What sweet relief the showers to thirsty 
 plants we see. From Tottel's Miscellany (Collier's Reprint, 1867). 
 Mr. Erskine says in his Study of the Elizabethan Lyrics (ed. 1905, 
 p. 79), " Grimald is a much less ambitious figure than these two 
 lyrists (Wyat and Surrey), but his pieces in Tottel's Miscellany 
 have their own interest. He stands for the type of minor poet, 
 who, though hidden by the larger names, is present throughout 
 the period, and emerges fully developed in Marvell." Line 3, As 
 fresh and lusty Ver: The Spring. Compare: 
 
 Averil, whan clothed is the mede 
 
 With new grene, of lusty Veer the prime. 
 
 (Chaucer, Troilus, i., 157.) 
 
 Page 169, No. 190 — Crowned with flowers I saw fair Amaryliss. 
 From William Byrd's Psalms, Songs, and Sonnets, 1611. 
 
 Page 170, No. 192 — As ye came from the holy land. In Oldys 
 and Birch's Life and Works of Raleigh, vol. viii., p. 733, with 
 
NOTES 
 
 the title. False Love and True Love, this poem is credited to W. 
 Rive, The Bodleian MSS. The poem occurs in several versions. 
 The first stanza is quoted in act ii. sc. 2 of Beaumont and Fletcher's 
 The Knight of the Burning Pestle, 1610; and in Hans Beer-pot, 
 his Invisible Comedy. The second stanza may have suggested 
 Ophelia's "How should I your' true love know." (Schelling, A Book 
 of Elizabethan Lyrics.) Most of the versions read, As you come, 
 instead of as ye came, which I have followed, and which, as far as 
 I am able to ascertain, is an emendation by Mr. Quiller-Couch. For 
 other variants let the reader compare Hannah's Raleigh in the 
 Courtly Poets, 1870, p. 80. Line 1, From the holy land: "The 
 shrine of the Blessed Virgin at Walsingham, in Norfolk, was famous 
 throughout Europe: and in Norfolk the Milky Way, being supposed 
 to point the pilgrims to this shrine, was called the ' Walsingham 
 Way,' just as it was called ' St. Jago's Way ' in Italy, and ' Jacob- 
 strasse ' in Germany, as pointing to Compostella. In 1538, at the 
 dissolution of the monasteries, the great image of the Virgin was 
 carried oflf to Chelsea, and there burnt. It had been, perhaps, a 
 more famous shrine of pilgrimage than even the tomb of St. 
 Thomas of Canterbury. Cf. Erasmus. Colloq. Peregrinatio religi- 
 onis ergo. Ascham, visiting Cologne in 1550, says: ' The Three 
 Kings be not so rich, I believe, as was the Lady of Walsingham,' 
 the wealth of the shrine at Cologne being then valued at about 
 six millions of francs. (£240,000.)" (Quiller-Couch.) 
 
 Page 171, No. 193 — We sazv and wooed each other's eyes. " The 
 amatory poetry of Habington is that of a man who regards woman 
 as a highly intellectual being; not as the mere slave and instrument 
 of sensual pleasure; and the correctness of his mind, in this par- 
 ticular, is equally apparent in his prose and verse." (Habington's 
 Castara, edit, by Charles A. Elton, The Prefatory Essay, p. 7.) 
 I think, in this poem, Mr. Elton's particular critical virtue of the 
 Castara poems is perhaps shown at its best from a moral, and 
 highest from a poetical point of view. But Prof. Saintsbury 
 (History of Elizabethan Literature, 1887, p. 382) has this to say: 
 " Castara is a real instance of what some foreign critics very 
 unjustly charge on English literature as a whole — a foolish and 
 almost_ canting prudery. The poet dins the chastity of his mistress 
 into his readers' heads until the readers in self-defence are driven 
 to say, * Sir, did any one doubt it? ' He protests the freedom of 
 his own passion from any admixture of fleshly influence, till half 
 a suspicion of hypocrisy and more than half a feeling of contempt 
 force themselves on the hearer. . . . To tell the truth, it is, 
 though, as has been said, an estimable, yet a rather irritating 
 work. That Habington was a true lover every line of it shows; 
 that he had a strong infusion of the abundant poetical inspiration 
 then abroad is shown by line after line, though hardly by poem 
 after poem, among its pieces." 
 
 Page 172, No. 194 — Turn I my looks unto the skies. From 
 Rosalind, 1590. Mr. Bullen says this was doubtless suggested 
 by Desportes' sonnet: 
 
 Si je me siez a I'ombre, assui soudainement 
 Amour, laissant son arc, s'assied et se repose; 
 Si je pense a des vers, je le voy qui compose; 
 Si je plains mes douleurs, il se plaint hautement. 
 
NOTES 
 
 Si je me plains au mal, il accroist mon tourment; 
 Si je respans des pleurs, son visage il arrose; 
 Si ie monstre ma playe, en ma poitrine enclose, 
 II defait son bandeau, I'essuyant doucement. 
 
 Si je vais par les bois, aux bois il m'accompagi;e; 
 Si je me suis cruel, dans mon sang il se bagne; 
 Si je vais a la guerre, il devient mon soldat. 
 
 Si je passe la mer, il conduit ma nacelle; 
 Bref, jamais I'importun de moy ne se depart, 
 Pour rendre mon desir et ma peine eternelle. 
 
 " Lodge was fond of this sonnet of Desportes," says Mr. Bullen. 
 He gives a literal translation of it in Scylla's Metamorphosis, 
 1589: 
 
 "If so I seek the shades I suddenly do see 
 The god of love forsake his bow and sit by me; 
 If that I think to write his muses pliant be, 
 If so I plain my grief the wanton boy will cry. 
 
 If I lament his pride he doth increase my pain; 
 If tears my cheeks attaint, his cheeks are moist with moan; 
 If I disclose the wounds the which my heart hath slain. 
 He takes his fascia off and wipes them dry anon. 
 
 If so I walk the woods, the woods are his delight; 
 If I myself torment, he bathes him in my blood; 
 If seas delight, he steers my bark amid the flood: 
 He will my soldier be if once I went to fight; 
 
 In brief the cruel god doth never from here go, 
 But makes my lasting love eternal with my woe." 
 
 Lodge repi-inted this with alterations in Phillis: Honoured with 
 Sundry Sonnets, 1593. Elizabethan Sonnets, in An English Garner, 
 Seccombe ed., 1904, number xxxvi., p. 19. 
 
 Page 174, No. 196 — My love is strengthened, though more weak 
 in seeming. Sonnet cii. Shakespeare's Sonnettes, 1609. An 
 apology for having ceased to sing. (See Sonnet ci., Dowden ed., 
 p. 101.) Line 3, That love is merchandised: cf. Love's Labour's 
 Lost, act ii. sc. 1 : 
 
 My beauty, though but mean. 
 Needs not the painted flourish of your praise: 
 Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye, 
 Not uttered by base sale of chapman's tongues. 
 
 Line 7, In summer's front: cf. Winter's Tale, act iv. sc. 4: 
 
 No shepherdess, but Flora 
 Peering in April's front. 
 
 Page 175, No. 197 — Love me or not, love her I must or die. 
 From Campion's Fourth Book of Airs, 1617. 
 
 Page 176, No. 199 — Passions are liken'd best to Hoods and 
 streams. This, and the following poem, Silence in Love (No. 
 200), are given in Hannah's Raleigh, p. 20, with the title. The 
 Silent Love. Five stanzas have been omitted in number 200. In 
 the Oxford Ed. of Raleigh's Works a note says: "This {The 
 Silent Love) has been much improved from a MS. copy in a very 
 curious collection of contemporary poetry, among Dr. Rawlinson's 
 
 716 
 
NOTES 
 
 MSS. m the Sodleian. It is there entitled, Sir Walter Raleigh to 
 Queene Elizabeth." Line 5, Silence in love, etc.: "This stanza 
 was," says a note in Ae Oxford Ed. of Raleigh's Works, " by some 
 strange anachronism, current about seventy years ago (1759), among 
 the circles of fashions, as the production of the late celebrated Earl 
 of Chesterfield." This stanza- is also quoted in the dedication to 
 one of Fletcher's plays, 1652, as written by " an ingenious person of 
 quality." (Dyce's Edition, vol. viii., p. 106.) 
 
 Page 177, No. 202 — Fain would I change tnai note. "A. book 
 may be very rare and very worthless: that I admit. tint a.a 
 examination of the present volume will show that some choice 
 lyrics have lain hidden out of sight for nearly three centuries. 
 How many readers have heard of Captain Tobias Hume? He 
 published, in 1605, The First Part of Airs, French, Polish and 
 others together. Among these Airs I found the flawless verses that 
 I have placed at the beginning of my anthology. Fain would I 
 change that note. Surely few, even among the very elect, have 
 sung Love's praises in happier accents of heartful devotion. Cap- 
 tain Hume wrote the music, but I know not who wrote the verses." 
 (Bullen, Introduction to Lyrics from the Elizabethan Song-Books, 
 pp. vii, viii.) 
 
 Page 178, No. 203 — Being your slave, what should I do but 
 tend. Sonnet Ivii. Shakespeare's Sonnettes, 1609. The absence 
 spoken of in this sonnet seems to be voluntary absence on the part 
 of Shakespeare's friend. Line 5, World-without-end hour: the 
 tedious hour, that seems as if it would never end. (Dowden.) Cf. 
 Love's Labour's Lost, act v. sc. 2. " A world-without-end bargain." 
 Line 13, That in your Will: Prof. Dowden says of this phrase: 
 "The Quarto has Will (capital ' W,' but not italics). If a play 
 on words is intended, it must be ' Love in your Will (i. e., your 
 Will Shakespeare) can think no evil of you, do what you please; ' 
 and also ' Love can discover no evil in your will.' " 
 
 Page 179, No. 204 — Were my heart as some men's are, thy errors, 
 etc. From Campion's Third Book of Airs, 1617. 
 
 Page 179, No. 205 — If love make me forsworn, how shall I 
 swear to love. From Love's Labour's Lost, act iv. sc. 2. Line 1, 
 How shall I swear to love: How shall love credit me? by what 
 oath shall I gain love's belief? Line 5, Study his bias leaves: 
 I suspect there should be a comma after bias, to read, Study his 
 bias, leaves, etc. Leaves, here is a verb. Line 13, Pardon love 
 this: The meaning plainly is: " Celestial as thou art, O, pardon 
 the wrong love does in singing heaven's praise (that is thine) with 
 such an earthly tongue." (Dyce.) Yet the modern editors alter the 
 punctuation to " pardon, love, this." (Furness.) 
 
 Page 182, No. 207 — As careful merchants do expecting stand. 
 From Britannia's Pastorals, lines 1029-1058, Song 3, Book 2. 
 Compare Spenser's Sonnet, Amoretti, xv. : 
 
 Ye tradeful merchants that with weary toil, etc. 
 
 Line 5: Upon a great adventure is it bound: Spenser's Red Cross 
 Knight too: " Upon a great adventure he was bond," Faerie Queene, 
 Bk. 1, ci., St. 3. 
 
 717 
 
NOTES 
 
 Page 184, No. 210 — Ye blushing virgins happy are. Mr. Elton, 
 in his ed. of Habington's Castara, says: "The cast of this ode 
 reminds me of some pretty stanzas by Bernard, the author of 
 L'Art d'Amer. The reader will pardon my presenting him with 
 a translation only, as I have mislaid the original: " 
 
 " Nursed by the zephyr's balmy sighs, 
 And cherish'd by the tears of morn; 
 
 Ah, Queen of flowers! awake! arise! 
 Oh, haste, delicious rose, be born! 
 
 Unheeding wish ! no — yet awhile, 
 
 Be yet awhile thy dawn delay'd; 
 Since the same hour, that sees thee smile 
 
 In Orient bloom, shall see thee fade. 
 
 Themira thus, an opening flower. 
 
 Must withering droop at fate's decree; 
 
 Like her thou bloomest thy little hour, 
 And she, alas, must fade like thee. 
 
 Yet go, and on her bosom die; 
 
 At once, blest rose! thy throne and tomb; 
 While envious heaves my secret sigh 
 
 To share with thee so sweet a doom. 
 
 Love shall thy graceful bent advise, 
 Thy blushing, trem'lous leaves reveal; 
 
 Go, bright, yet hurtless, charm her eyes; 
 Go deck her bosom, not conceal. 
 
 Should some bold hand invade thee there, 
 
 From Love's asylum rudely torn; 
 Oh, Rose! a lover's vengeance bear; 
 
 And let my rival feel thy thorn." 
 
 Line 2, In the chaste nunnery of her breasts: This figure was 
 very common with the poets of the time. Herrick, " not with the 
 most elegant choice of expression " (Elton), speaking of the roses 
 in a lady's bosom, observes: 
 
 And snugging there they seem'd to lie 
 
 As in a Howery nunnery. 
 
 Compare the first stanza in Lovelace' famous lyric, number 426, 
 p. 426. Line 5, Transplanted thus how bright ye grow: Compare 
 Carew's lines from: On a Damask Rose, sticking upon a Lady's 
 breast : 
 
 Let scent and looks be sweet, and bless that hand 
 
 That did transplant thee to that sacred land. 
 
 O happy thou! that in that garden rest'st. 
 
 That paradise between that lady's breasts. 
 
 {Poems, p. 150, Edit, by Arthur Vincent.) 
 
 Line 16, Your glorious sepulcher shall be: Compare Herrick, 
 
 Upon the Roses in Julia's bosom,: 
 
 Thrice happy roses! So much grac'd to have 
 Within the bosom of my love your grave; 
 Die when you will, your sepulchre is known. 
 Your grave her bosom is, the lawn the stone. 
 
 718 
 
NOTES 
 
 Page 186, No. 212 — When Love with unconfined wings. Dr. 
 John Wilson, Professor of Music in the University of Oxford, 
 1660, set the first stanza of this famous song to music, in Cheer- 
 full Ayres or Ballads: First composed for one single voice, and 
 since set for three voices, 1569. Hazlitt, in his ed. of Lucasta, 
 1864, says: " I have sometimes thought that, when Lovelace 
 composed this production, he" had in his recollection some of the 
 sentiments of Wither 's Shepherds Hunting, 1615. See, more par- 
 ticularly, the sonnet (at p. 248 of Mr. Gutch's Bristol Edition) 
 commencing: ' I that erst while the world's sweet air did draw.' " 
 Line 5, When I lie tangled in her hair: Compare Peele's: 
 
 Now comes my lover tripping like a roe 
 And brings my longings tangled in her hair. 
 
 {David and Bethsade, 1599, Scene i.) 
 
 Line 7, And fettered to her eye: Compare Middleton: 
 
 . . . Fond man, 
 That can forget his excellence and honour, 
 His serious meditations, being the end 
 Of his creation, to learn well to die. 
 And live a prisoner to a woman's eye." 
 
 (More Dissemblers beside,s Women, 1657.) 
 
 Line 7, The birds, that wanton in the air: the gods, is the original 
 reading. On this point Hazlitt says: "The present word is substi- 
 tuted in accordance with a MS. copy of the song printed by the late 
 Dr. Bliss, in his edition of Wood's Athencc. If Dr. Bliss had been 
 aware of the extraordinary corruptions under which the text of 
 Lucasta laboured, he would have had less hesitation in adopting 
 birds as the true reading." {Lucasta, p. 118.) Line 17, When, like 
 committed linnets I : In Percy's Reliques, ii., 247, this is changed to 
 linnet-like confined, which Ellis {Specimens of Early English Poetry, 
 ed. 1801, iii., 252) considers the " more intelligible." Hazlitt\s 
 cornment on such matters in general, and on this in particular, 
 while displaying somewhat of that rancorous spirit which he has 
 put into other critical opinions with less influence of conviction, 
 seems here quite final. " It is not, however," he says, " either 
 what Lovelace wrote, or what (it may be presumed) he intended 
 to write, and nothing, it would seem, can be clearer than the 
 passage as it stands, committed signifying, in fact, nothing more 
 than confined. It is fortunate for the lovers of early English 
 literature that Bp. Percy had comparatively little to do with it. 
 Emendation of a text is well enough; but the wholesale and 
 arbitrary slaughter of it is quite another matter." Prof. Saints- 
 bury seems to carry out Hazlitt's championing of Lovelace in this 
 respect when he says: " It is not quite true that Lovelace left 
 nothing worth reading but the two immortal songs. To Lucasta 
 on going to the Wars and To Althea from Prison; and it is 
 only fair to say that the corrupt condition of his text is evidently 
 due, at least in part, to incompetent printing and the absence of 
 revision." {History of Elizabethan Literature, p. 376.) 
 
 Page 188, No. 214 — Come hither, shepherd's swain! Of this 
 poem, Mr. Quiller-Couch says in The Golden Pomp, p. 337, it was 
 " found entire in Deloney's Garland of Goodwill (whence Percy 
 obtained the version in His Reliques) and in Breton's Bower of 
 
 719 
 
NOTES 
 
 Delights, 1597. A shorter copy is found in Puttenham's Art of Eng. 
 lish Poesy, 1589, where it is attributed to ' Edward, Earl of Oxford, 
 a most noble and learned gentleman.' " Line 6, Prime of May: v. 1. 
 times a day. 
 
 Page 191, No. 216 — Alas! my love you do me wrong. These 
 words of the famous song Green-sleeves were composed before 1580. 
 
 Page 192, No. 217 — Come, worthy Greek! Ulysses, come. From 
 Homer's Odyssey, xii., 184. " It is to be observed particularly," 
 writes Mr. Quiller-Couch (Golden Pomp), " with what ease this 
 song of ' wel'l-languaged Daniel ' runs upon the tongue. Such ease 
 would be remarkable in a lyric of mere emotion or ecstasy: it is 
 wonderful in lines that discuss a question of high morality." 
 
 Page 195, No. 219 — My love in her attire doth show her. wit. 
 From Davison's Poetical Rhapsody, 1602. Mr. Bullen (^Rhapsody 
 ii., p. 196) suggests the comparison of this poem to Clement 
 Marot's graceful verses: 
 
 De Madame Ysabeau de Navarre 
 
 Qui cuyderoit desguiser Ysabeau 
 
 D'un simple habit, ce seroit grand' simplesse; 
 
 Car au visage a ne scay quoi de beau. 
 
 Qui faict juger tousjours qu'elle est princesse: 
 
 Soit en habit de chambriere ou maistresse, 
 
 Soit en drap d'or entier ou decouppe, 
 
 Soit son gent corps de toile enveloppe, 
 
 Tousjours sera sa beaute maintenue; 
 
 Mais il me semble (ou je suis bien trompe) 
 
 Qu'elle seroit plus belle toute nue. 
 
 " Mr. J. M. Thomson refers me to Aristsenetus, Epistle I., and 
 Plato's * Charmides,' p. 154 D." (Bullen.) 
 
 Page 199, No. 226— Hey nonny no! This little, and perfect, 
 snatch of sentiment was discovered by Mr. Bullen, who rescued 
 it from the collection of early MS. music-books in the library of 
 Christ Church, Oxford. In the MS. the lines are subscribed', 
 "Mr. Gyles." Nathaniel Giles was a chorister at Magdalen, and 
 successively organist and master of the choristers at St. George's, 
 Windsor, and master of the Children of the Chapel Royal. He 
 died 24 January, 1633, and was buried at Windsor. 
 
 Page 202, No. 229 — Ask m,e no more where Jove bestows. This 
 remarkable and beautiful poem of Carew's was one of the most 
 imitated and parodied of its day. These appeared in the collections 
 of verse, generally as " replies," published after the Civil War. 
 For specimens, see The Poems and Masque of Thomas Carew, 
 Elsworth ed., 1893, pp. 232-7. 
 
 Page 206, No. 235 — Dearest, do not you delay me. From The 
 Spanish Curate, act ii. sc. 2, 1622. Line 12, sterve me: old form 
 of starve, here retained for sake of rhyme. 
 
 Page 208, No. 238 — Love winged my Hopes and taught me how 
 to -fly. From Robert Jones' Second Book of Songs and. Airs; 160L 
 
 720 
 
 
NOTES 
 
 Line 18, It was the purest light of heaven for whose fair love they 
 fell. " I am reminded," says Mr. Bullen, " of a fine passage ih 
 Drayton's Barons' Wars, canto vi. : 
 
 " Looking upon proud Phaeton wrapped in fire, 
 The gentle queen did much bewail his fall; 
 But Mortimer commended his desire 
 To lose one poor life or to govern all. 
 * What though,' quoth he, ' he madly did aspire 
 And his great mind made him proud Fortune's thrall? 
 Yet, in despight when she her worst had done, 
 
 He perished in the chariot of the sun.' " 
 
 Page 210, No. 240 — Toss not my soul, O Love, 'twixt hope and 
 fear! From John Dowland's Second Book of Songs and Airs, 1600. 
 
 Page 212, No. 243 — // waker care, — if sudden pale colour — . 
 The first part of this sonnet was suggested to Wyat by the sonnet 
 of Petrarcu, beginning: 
 
 S' una feda amorosa, un cor non finto, etc. 
 
 of which the poet had elsewhere given an entire version. " If 
 so," says Leigh Hunt {English Sonnets, p. 136), "the latter part 
 may equally be supposed to have been suggested by some French 
 song. I think I have a recollection of some such contrastment 
 of a Phyllis and a Brunette in old French poetry. Yet these 
 propositions and contrapositions are so common in love-poets, that 
 the feeling may have originated with Sir Thomas hirhself; though 
 he was a Petrarcist professed. In a court like that of Henry VIII. 
 Wyat may well enough have met with a Brunette of his own, who 
 revolted him with her ostentation and her love of wealth, — set- 
 ting his mercer's and jeweller's bills in a roar. The names of 
 Brunet (Brunetta) and Phyllis in conjunction are to be found 
 nowhere else, I believe, in English literature, except in Steele's 
 amusing story of the two rival beauties in the Spectator, No. 86. 
 Did he get them from Wyat? Wyat was just the sort of man 
 to be loved and admired by Steele." 
 
 Page 214, No. 247 — At her fair hands how have I grace en- 
 treated. First printed in Davison's Poetical Rhapsody, 1602, and set 
 to music in Robert Jones' Ultimum Vale, 1608. 
 
 Page 215, No. 248 — I saw fair Chloris walk alone. Copied from 
 the Ashmolean MS. 38, Art. II. It is given in Wit's Recreation, 
 1645, and Wif^s Interpreter, 1655, 1671. Set to music by Purcell 
 in Henry Playford's Theater of Musick, Pt. 3, 1686. 
 
 Page 216, No. 249 — Camella fair tripped o'er the plain. From 
 Thomas Bateson's Second Set of Madrigals, 1618. 
 
 Page 219, No. 253 — Beauty sat bathing by a spring. This poem 
 and the second following, No. 255, are undoubtedly by the same 
 author. There are conflicting opinions, however, as to his identity. 
 This song was published with six others in England's Helicon, 
 1600, and signed " Shepherd Tony." It is also found in Anthony 
 Munday's Primaleon, 1619. " And though Anthony Munday," says 
 
 721 
 
NOTES 
 
 Mr. Quiller-Couch, " (' our best plotter ' according to Meres, and 
 elsewhere less reverently, * the Grub Street Patriarch '), could 
 write poorly enough, as a rule, the evidence is sufficient that he 
 was the * Shepherd Tony ' and author of this graceful lyric." 
 " This charming lyric," writes Mr. Bullen, in his edition of Eng- 
 land's Helicon, " was written by ' Shepherd Tony,' who contrib- 
 uted six other poems. It would be pleasant to be able to identify 
 the Shepherd Tony; but I fear that he will remain a mere 
 nominis umbra. The suggestion that the delightful lyrist was An- 
 thony Copely, author of A Fig for Fortune, 1596, and Wits,_ Fits, 
 and Fancies, 1614, is ridiculous; and equally ridiculous is the 
 suggestion that he was Anthony Munday." This, however, was 
 written before Mr. Bullen had become familiar with all of Mun- 
 day's writings; and after the discovery of this poem in the Prima- 
 leon, he became convinced of the identity of Munday and the 
 Shepherd Tony, recanting in an interesting note in the Introduc- 
 tion to the Lyrics from Elizabethan Romances. 
 
 Page 220, No. 254 — Follow a shadow, it still flies you. From 
 The Forest. Drummond of Hawthornden thus relates the origin 
 of this song: "Pembroke and his Lady discoursing, the Earl said, 
 ' The women were men's shadows,' and she maintained them. Both 
 appealing to Jonson, he affirmed it true, for which my Lady gave 
 a penance to prove it in verse; hence his epigram." 
 
 Page 220, No. 255 — See note to No. 253. 
 
 Page 224, No. 257 — My hope a counsel with my heart. From 
 Michael Este's Madrigals of Three, Four, and Five Parts, 1604. 
 
 Page 225, No. 258 — Dear if you change, I'll never choose again. 
 From John Dowland's First Book of Songs or Airs, 1597. 
 
 Page 227, No. 261 — Out upon it I have loved-. This poem was 
 found in an obscure volume of verse of the time of Charles I., 
 by A. D., whom Hazlitt conjectured to be Alexander Dyce. The 
 poem has been attributed to Suckling because it possesses the in- 
 ternal evidence of his peculiar qualities, which one, once having 
 read The Careless Lover, can have no two opinions about. An 
 answer was written by Sir Toby Matthews, which read: 
 
 Say, but did you love so long? 
 
 In troth, I needs must blame you: 
 Passion did your judgment wrong. 
 
 Or want of reason shame you. 
 
 Truth, Time's fair and witty daughter. 
 
 Shortly shall discover, 
 Y'are a subject fit for laughter, 
 
 And more fool than lover. 
 
 But I grant you merit praise 
 
 For your constant folly; 
 Since you doted three whole days, 
 
 Were you not melancholy? 
 
NOTES 
 
 She to whom you prov'd so true, 
 
 And that very, very face, 
 Puts each minute such as you 
 
 A dozen, dozen to disgrace. 
 
 Page 234, No. 268 — Steer hither, steer your winged pines. The 
 opening song from The Inner Temple Masque, Presented by the 
 Gentlemen there, January 13, 1614. Printed in 1772, by Thomas 
 Davies, in his ed. of Browne on the authority of a MS. in the 
 library of Emmanuel College, Cambridge. 
 
 Page 236, No. 271 — The sea hath many thousand sands. From 
 Robert Jones' The Muses' Garden of Delights 1610. 
 
 Page 237, No. 272 — Go, happy heart! for thou shaltlie. From 
 The Mad Lover, acted before 1618-19, act. iii. sc. 1. 
 
 Page 237, No. 273 — Fra bank to bank, fra wood to wood I rin. 
 
 Line 1, Rin: run. Line 2, Ourhailit : overspread. Line 7, Ingen- 
 
 rit: stir up. Line 8, Dauphin: dolphin. Line 12, Feidis: feeds. 
 Line 13, Throw: through. 
 
 Page 238, No. 274 — O waly, waly, up the bank. There is some 
 doubt about the date of this lament. It is believed by some to 
 be a portion of the ballad Lord Jamie Douglas, and therefore as 
 late as 1670. Professor Ayton believes that the verse belongs to 
 the sixteenth century. Rev. S. Baring-Gould has discovered and 
 printed in his Songs of the West, 1892, a traditional song of the 
 West-Counties, which has the two stanzas: 
 
 I leaned my back against an oak, 
 But first it bent and then it broke; . 
 Untrusty as I found that tree, 
 So did my false love prove to me. 
 
 I wish — I wish — but 'tis in vain 
 I wish I had my heart again! 
 With silver chain and diamond locks 
 I'd fasten it in a golden box. 
 
 Line 17, Now Arthur Seat: the hill by Edinburgh, near the foot 
 of which is St. Anthony's Well. 
 
 Page 243, No. 279 — They Hee from me that sometime did me 
 seek. " Under the figure of a lady oflterin.o: to him unsolicited the 
 tenderest mark of affection, he describes, in a lively manner, his 
 early good fortune and success in life when, as he expresses him- 
 self in the ode preceding, using the same metaphorical language 
 adopted in the present ode, ' Methought, Fortune me kissed.' 
 Following the same figure he naturally refers his subsequent mis- 
 fortunes to that constitutional levity, that ' strange fashion of 
 forsaking,' which is too common with the gentler sex. The ode 
 is one of no considerable merit; it is original and full of feeling." 
 (Nott, Howard and Wyat.) Line 2, Stalking within my chamber: 
 to steal softly with noiseless step. Sometimes, to steal upon one 
 as in the soft and imperceptible approach of sleep. Cf. Chaucer's 
 Canterbury Tales, 1. 8400: 
 
 723 
 
NOTES 
 
 The lover is of colour dead and pale; 
 There will no sleep into his eyes stalk. 
 
 Line 13, Sweetly she did me kiss: The propriety of this image 
 depends in great measure on a circumstance which grew out of 
 the manners of the days of chivalry, and which is now forgotten. 
 Whenever a lady accepted the service of a knight, or acknowledged 
 a person as her servant, or lover, she gave him a kiss, voluntarily 
 offered on her part; and this was considered to be an inviolable 
 bond of obligation. The reverence with which women were ap- 
 proached in those days ensured that this simple mark of approbation 
 was never misconceived or abused. Cf. Chaucer's Troilus and 
 Cressida, Bk. III., line ISO, where Cressida, permitting Troilus to 
 become her knight, advances modestly towards him, supported by 
 her uncle, and gives him the formal kiss. For the prevalence of 
 the custom in England, see Erasmus' Letter to his friend Faustus 
 Andrelinus. Also, for the use of Erasmus' correspondence on this 
 custom, see Mr. Maurice Hewlett's The Duchess of Nona, in The 
 Little Novels of Italy, chap. I. 
 
 Page 245, No. 281 — While that the sun with his beams hot. 
 From_ William Byrd's Songs of Sundry Natures, 1589. Appeared 
 also in Eytgland's Helicon, 1600. 
 
 Page 246, No. 282 — Sly thief, if so you will believe. Froth 
 Michael Este's Madrigals, 1604. 
 
 Page 247, No. 283 — Thmk'st thou to seduce me then with words 
 that have no meaning? From Campion's Fourth Book of Airs, 
 1617. There is another version of this song given in William 
 Corkine's Airs, 1610, with only three stanzas; for this version see 
 Works of Thomas Campion, Bullen ed., 1891, p. 286. 
 
 Page 248, No. 285 — Thou send'st to me a heart was sound. From 
 Oxford Music School MS. ¥., 575. " I seem to have met [these 
 verses]," says Mr. Bullen {More Lyrics from, Elizabethan Song- 
 Books), " in print somewhere, but cannot at the moment trace them. 
 For neatness and elegance they are worthy of Ben Jonson." Dr. 
 Grosart ascribed this poem to Donne, and printed it in his edition 
 of the poet's Works, vol. ii., p. 254. adding the two following 
 stanzas: 
 
 The heart I sent thee ]i;ul no stain; 
 
 It was entire and sound; 
 But thou hast sent it back again 
 Sick of a deadly wound. 
 
 O Heavens, how wouldst thou use a heart 
 
 That should rebellious be. 
 Since thou hast slain mine with a dart 
 
 That so much honoured thee. 
 
 Page 252, No. 288 — Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now. 
 Sonnet xc. Shakespeare's Sonnettes, 1609. See Sonnet Ixxxix., 
 of which this sonnet takes up the last word, pleading pathetically 
 for hatred; for the worst, speedily, if at all. (Dowden.) Line 6, 
 The rearward of a conquer d woe: cf. Much Ado About Nothing, 
 act iv. so. 1 : 
 724 
 
NOTES 
 
 Thought I thy spirit were stronger than thy flames, 
 Myself would, on the rearward of reproaches, 
 Strike at thy life. 
 
 Line 13, And other strains of woe: cf. Much Ado About Noth- 
 ing, act V. sc. 1 : 
 
 Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine 
 And let it answer every strain for strain. 
 
 Page 252, No. 289 — Disdain me still that I may ever love. From 
 John Dowland's A Pilgrim's Solace, 1612. 
 
 Page 253, No. 291 — When thou, poor Excommunicate. The first 
 and third stanzas of this poem were set to music by Henry Lawes 
 in Ayres and Dialogues, 1653. 
 
 Page 258, No. 297 — My lute awake! perform the last. "This 
 Ode," says Nott, " occurs in the Nugae Antiquae, vol. ii., p. 252, 
 Ed. 1775, and is there given to Lord Rochford; evidently erroneously, 
 for it is here printed from the Harington MS., No. I, p. 80, which 
 was Wyat's own MS., and is signed with his name in his own 
 handwriting. It is a poem of singular merit. It is one of the 
 most elegant amatory Odes in our language. It is as beautifully 
 arranged in all its parts as any of the odes of Horace. The Lute, 
 to which the Ode is addressed, corresponded nearly to the modern 
 guitar. It was the instrument to which almost all the amatory 
 compositions of our early poets were sung; whence they were 
 properly called Songs, corresponding to the Italian Cantate. Every 
 person of good education played on the lute. Surrey excelled on 
 that instrument, and composed to it several elegant airs. ... I 
 should not scruple to say that this Ode of Wyat is more elegant 
 and feeling than that of Horace to Lydia on a subject nearly 
 similar. ^ Life. I., Ode 25." Line 7, As lead to grave in marble 
 stone: i.e.. It would be more easy for lead, which is the softest 
 of metals, to engrave characters on hard marble, than it is for 
 me to make an impression on her obdurate heart. To grave: in 
 the sense of making an impression upon, was common among the 
 early writers. Cf. Chaucer's Troilus and Cressida, Bk. II., 1. 1241: 
 
 But ye have played the tyrant all too long, 
 And hard was it your heart for to grave. 
 
 Line 26, May chance thee lie: Wyat, says Nott, is incomparably 
 more elegant and pleasing in this passage than Horace in the 
 following lines : 
 
 Cum tibi flagrans amor, et libido 
 Quae solet matres furiare equorum, 
 Saeviet circa jecur ulcerosum, 
 
 Non sine questu, etc. 
 
 And it is Nott's opinion that, " there is nothing in the whole of 
 Horace's ode equal in beauty to the two lines which conclude the 
 seventh stanza in Wyat: 
 
 " Then shalt thou know beauty but lent. 
 And wish and want as I have done." 
 
 725 
 
NOTES 
 
 Page 260, No. 298 — Shall I wasting in despair. An imitation 
 of this poem attributed to Sir Walter Raleigh by Cayley in his 
 Life, and retained by Dr. Hannah in his Courtly Poets, p. 82, 
 begins : 
 
 Shall I, like an hermit, dwell 
 On a rock or in a cell. 
 Calling home the smallest part 
 That is missing of my heart, 
 To bestow it, where I may 
 Meet a rival every day? 
 If she undervalue me, 
 What care I how fair she be? 
 
 Page 261, No. 299 — Hence away, you Sirens, leave me. In 
 commenting on this poem in A Book of Elizabethan Lyrics, Pro- 
 fessor Schelling says: " There is a second decidedly weaker version 
 of this facile poem. Wither was often troubled with pangs of 
 conscience for the levity of his earlier Muse; it may have been 
 in one of these moments that he reduced his Sirens to one, and 
 somewhat prudishly covered their antique nakedness." Line 44, 
 Whilst there's noble hills to climb: nouns in the plural were used 
 as the subject of is. Cf. Shakespeare's ' There is salmons in both ' 
 — Henry V ., act iv. sc. 6. 
 
 Page 266, No. 301 — Thou art not fair for all thy red and 
 white. From Campion and Rosseter's Book of Airs, 1601. There 
 are two other versions of this poem which have been erroneously 
 attributed to Donne and to Joshua Sylvester, in Harley MS., 6910, 
 f61. 150. 
 
 Thou shalt not love me, neither shall these eyes 
 Shine on my soul shrouded in deadly night; 
 Thou shalt not breathe on me thy spiceries, 
 Nor rock me in thy quavers of delight. 
 Hold ofif thy hands; for I had rather die 
 Than have my life hy thy coy touch reprieved. 
 Smile not on me, but frown thou bitterly: 
 Slay me outright, no lovers are long lived. 
 As for those lips reserved so much in store, 
 Their rosy verdure shall not meet with mine. 
 Withhold thy proud embracements evermore: 
 I'll not be swaddled in those arms of thine. 
 Now show it if thou be a woman right, — 
 Embrace and kiss and love me in despight. 
 
 Beauty without Love Deformity 
 
 Thou are not fair for all thy red and white. 
 
 For all those rosy temperatures in thee; 
 
 Thou art not sweet, though made of mere delight, 
 
 Nor fair nor sweet unless thou pity me. 
 
 Thine eyes are black, and yet their glittering brightness 
 
 Can night enlumine in her darkest den; 
 
 Thy hands are bloody, though contrived of whiteness, 
 
 Both black and bloody, if they murder men; 
 
 Thy brows, whereon my good hap doth depend, 
 
 Fairer than snow or lily in the spring; 
 
 Thy tongue which saves ( ?) at every sweet word's end, 
 
 726 
 
NOTES 
 
 That hard as marble, this a mortal sting; 
 I will not soothe thy follies, thou shalt prove 
 That Beauty is no Beauty without Love. 
 
 Page 268, No. 304 — When Love on time and measure makes his 
 ground. From Robert Jones' First Book of Songs and Airs, 1601. 
 
 Page 270, No. 307 — Take, O take those lips away. From 
 Measure for Measure, 1603, act iv. sc. 1. This song is quoted in 
 Fletcher's The Bloody Brother, act v. sc. 2,, with the following addi- 
 tional stanza: 
 
 Hide, oh, hide those hills of snow. 
 
 Which thy frozen bosom bears, 
 On whose tips the pinks that grow 
 
 Are of those that April wears; 
 But first set my poor heart free. 
 Bound in those icy chains by thee. 
 
 The distinct inferiority of the second stanza to the first leads Mr. 
 Bullen to think that the former was written by Shakespeare and 
 the latter by Fletcher. This suggestion is a saner and more plaus- 
 ible opinion than Mr. Swinburne's vehement partisanship criticism 
 in behalf of the Avon bard in A Study of Shakespeare, p. 205. 
 
 Page 271, No. ZQ9i. — Since there's no help, come let us kiss and 
 part. This great sonnet first appeared in the 1619 folio of Dray- 
 ton's Works, and numbered Ixi. of the sonnets Idea. 1 believe 
 this to be a very personal sonnet, into which the poet put so 
 much of the intensity of truth and experience that its expression, 
 wrought by the genius of a poet like Drayton, could not be 
 other than a creation of magnificent art. " From Anacreon to 
 Moore, I know of no lines on the old subject of lovers' quarrels, 
 distinguished for equal tenderness of sentiment. . . . Especially 
 may be observed the exquisite gracefulness in the transition from 
 the familiar tone in the first part of the sonnet to the deeper 
 feeling and higher strain of the imagination at the close." (Henry 
 Reed, British Poets, I., 241.) "As for Drayton, his one incom- 
 parable sonnet is Love Parting. That is almost the best in the 
 language, if not quite." (Dante Gabriel Rossetti, ir ova. Recollections 
 of D. G. R., by T. Hall Caine.) 
 
 Page 272, No. 311 — Ring out your bells, let mourning shews 
 be spread. From Certaine Sonets, The Arcadia, 1598. It is a ten- 
 able theory that all of the poems in this group contain some 
 reference to Sidney's love for Stella; certainly this is the case 
 with many of them. Dr. Grosart admits that only long-established 
 precedent withholds him from including them in that section of 
 his edition, and indeed this is not strong enough to prevent his 
 transferring two sonnets which he numbers as cix. and ex. of 
 Astrophel and Stella. He considers this Dirge to have been written 
 upon the marriage of Stella to Lord Rich. {Sidney ii., 3, 4.) 
 Mr. Pollard, in explanation of their original omission from the 
 book, suggests that by some accident Sidney's own copies may have 
 been destroyed, and that we owe the poem to the fortunate 
 preservation of duplicates by the Countess of Pembroke. Com- 
 pare Tennyson's Ring out, wild bells, in In Memoriam, cvi., which 
 is generally supposed to have been suggested by this poem. Line 
 
 727 
 
NOTES 
 
 16, False seeming holy: perhaps, hypocrisy. Line 21, Trent als: 
 From late Latin, trigintalia; service lasting thirty days in which 
 thirty masses were said for the repose of the soul. 
 
 : 'Page 274, No. 312 — Resolved to dust entombed here lieth Love: 
 .Each of the poems of Watson's Passionate Century is preceded by 
 a brief explanation. This poem is included among the last twenty 
 (so-styled) sonnets, under the section titled My Loz'e Is Past, and 
 is prefaced as follows: " The author faineth here that Love, essay- 
 ing with his brand to fire the heart of some lady, on whom it 
 would not work, immediately, to try whether the old virtue of it 
 were extinguished or no, applied it unto his own breast, and 
 thereby foolishly consumed himself. This invention hath some 
 relation unto the Epitaph of Love, written by M. Girolimo Para- 
 bosco : 
 
 " ' In cenere giace qui sepolto Amore, 
 Colpa di quella, che morir m,i face, etc. ' " 
 
 Watson's pains lest the reader may believe his passion not assumed, 
 together with his pedantic gloss, has gone far toward destroying 
 whatever of real merit the verses possess. 
 
 Page 275, No. 313 — Far in the country of Arden. This charm- 
 ing ballad is from The Shepherd's Garland, 1593, where it is sung 
 by the shepherd Motto in the Eighth Eclogue. It was republished 
 in. Poems Lyrick and Pastorall, 1605, and again in the 1619 Folio 
 of Drayton's Works. Line 3, Isenbras: the metrical romance of 
 Sir Isenbras was printed by Copland early in the sixteenth century 
 from an unknown French original. A copy from MS. is given 
 by Halliwell among the Thorton Romances in the Camden Society, 
 1844. Line 6, Sir Topas: the Rime of Sire Thopas in the Canter- 
 bury Tales. Drayton, in this ballad, has borrowed Chaucer's metre 
 and some of his expressions. Line 11, Yconned the leire: she 
 knew the learning belonging to great courtesy. (Collier.) Line 14, 
 March-pine: a kind of sweet biscuit usually composed of almonds 
 and sugar. Line 27, And lythe as lass of Kent: Cf. Spenser's 
 Shepherd's Calendar: Second Eclogue: 
 
 Seest how brag yond bullocke beares 
 So smirke, so smoothe, his pricked eares? 
 His homes bene as broade as rainebow bent. 
 His dewelap as lythe as lasse of Kent. 
 
 Line 33, To get sweet setywall: Cf. the Rime of Sire Thopas: 
 
 There springen herbes grete and smale, '" 
 
 The licoris and the setewale. 
 
 " Setwall, or garden valerian, at the first hath broad leaves of a 
 whitish green colour." (Lyte's Herbal apud Nares.) Quoted by 
 Bullen. (Selections from Drayton's Poems.) Line 41, He crowed 
 crank: i. e., lustily. The word is used by Spenser. Crancke, or 
 cranke, an old word, and yet still in use among country people, 
 used for lustie, courageous, spirit full. (Minshewe.) " The deriva- 
 tion is uncertain," says Mr. Bullen. " On the lucus a non lucenda 
 principle, Minshewe derived it from Dutch kranck, sick." Line 56, 
 Of the finest loke : i. e., lock or fleece of wool. Line 58, Bauzons' 
 skin: badger's skin. Line 59, His cockers were: a kind of rustic 
 
 728 
 
NOTES 
 
 high shoes, or half-boots; probably from cocking up. Cf. Hall's 
 Satires^ iv. 6: 
 
 Now doth he inly scorn his Kendall-grene 
 And his patch'd cockers now despised bene. 
 
 Line 59, Of cordiwin: Cf. the. Rime of Sire Thopas: 
 
 His here, his berde was like safifroun, 
 That to his girdle raught adoun. 
 His shoon of cordewane. 
 
 Line 60, Hood of miniver: a kind of fur. Line 62, His tarbox: 
 tar was used for curling sheep's sores. Line 63, Breech of Coin- 
 tree blue: Coventry blue. Coventry blue stuffs were as famous as 
 Lincoln green. (Bullen.) 
 
 Page 279, No. 314 — Love is a sickness full of woes. From 
 Hymen's Triumph, acted 1613-14. This " pastoral tragi-comedy " 
 was performed at Somerset-House on the occasion of Lord Rox- 
 burgh's marriage to Mistress Jane Drummond. Mr. Chamberlain's 
 comment is " solemn and dull." 
 
 Page 280, No. 315 — Go and catch a falling star. Mr. Gosse 
 very justly says of Donne's ' system of prosody: ' " The terms ' ir- 
 regular,' ' unintelligible,' and ' viciously rugged ' are commonly used 
 in describing it, and it seems even to be supposed by some critics 
 that Donne did not know how to scan. This last supposition may 
 be rejected at once; what there was to know about poetry was 
 known to Donne. But it seems certain that he intentionally in- 
 troduced a revolution into English versification. It was doubtless 
 a rebellion against the smooth and somewhat nerveless iambic 
 ilow of Spenser and the earliest contemporaries of Shakespeare, 
 that Donne invented his violent mode of breaking up the line into 
 quick and slow beats." {Jacobean Poets, 1894.) Line 2, Man- 
 drake root: Mandragora officinalis, a low plant having a fleshy 
 root often forked, and supposed to resemble a man. It was there- 
 fore supposed to have animal life, and to cry out when pulled up. 
 All parts of the plants are strongly narcotic. (Webster.) Cf. 
 Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, act iv. sc. 3: 
 
 And shrieks Kke mandrakes torn out of the earth 
 That living mortals hearing them, run mad. 
 
 Line 3, Past hours: ed. of 1669 reads, times past. Line 10, Born 
 to strange sights: i. e., gifted with clairvoyant vision. 
 
 Page 281, No. 316 — Why so pale and wan, fond lover? This 
 song, perhaps the most perfect example of the satirical lyric of 
 the Caroline period, appears in Aglaura, act iv. sc. 1, printed 1638. 
 It is sung by young Orsames, who calls it " a little foolish counsel 
 I gave a friend of mine four or five years ago when he was 
 falling into a consumption." 
 
 Page 281, No. 317 — Sweet Love, renew thy force: be it not 
 said. Sonnet Ivi. Shakespeare's Sonnettes, 1609. A sonnet writ- 
 ten in absence. The " love " addressed (to-morrow see again, etc.) 
 is only the imaginative vision of the absent one. Line 6, Even till 
 
 729 
 
NOTES 
 
 they wink: to close the eyes not necessarily for a moment, but as 
 in sleep. Here to sleep as after a full meal. Cf. Cymbeline, act. ii. 
 sc. 3: 
 
 And winking Mary-buds begin 
 To ope their golden eyes. 
 
 Line 8, Perpetual dulness: in connection with Wink; drowsiness 
 as when Prospero says of Miranda's sleep " 'Tis a good dulness " — - 
 The Tempest, act i. sc. 2. Line 13, Or call: the Quarto reads As; 
 Mr. Palgrave reads Else. 
 
 Page 284, No. 322 — Madam, withouten many words. This very 
 well-known Song of Wyat's is from Tottel's Miscellany, 1557. *' Sub- 
 joined, in the same MS.," says Nott (Harington MS., No. 1, p. 
 42), " is an answer, which, though it probably was not written by 
 Wyat, yet as it was transcribed by him into his book, deserves 
 to be preserved." The answer reads: 
 
 Of few words. Sir, you seem to be. 
 And where I doubted what I would do 
 
 Your quick request hath caused me 
 
 Quickly to tell you what you shall trust to. 
 
 For he that will be called with a beck, 
 
 Makes hasty suit on light desire; 
 Is ever ready to the check 
 
 And burneth in no wasting fire. 
 
 Therefore whether you be lief or loth. 
 And whether it grieve you light or sore 
 
 I am at a point. I have made an oath. 
 
 Content you with " Nay; " for you get no more. 
 
 Line 3, Then leave your boards: tackings to and fro. A vessel 
 tacking is said to make boards. 
 
 Page 285, No. 323 — Lady! you are with beauties so enriched. 
 From Davison's Poetical Rhapsody, 1602. 
 
 Page 286, No. 324. — The lowest trees have tops, the ant her 
 gall. From John Dowland's Third and Last Book of Songs and 
 Airs, 1603. Also appeared in Davison's Poetical Rhapsody, 1602, 
 and subscribed " Incerto." In Mr. Bullen's reprint of the Rhap- 
 sody, it is signed by the still mysterious initials A. W. Rawlinson 
 MS., Poet. 148, fol. 50, attributes it to Sir Edward Dyer, which 
 authorship I have retained with a question. 
 
 Page 286, No. 325 — Art thou gone in haste? From The Thra- 
 cian Wonder, published by Francis Kirkman, 1661, and attributed 
 on the title-page to Webster and Rowley. No evidence can be 
 approved that Webster took any part in writing the play. William 
 Rowley, ' once a rare schollar of learned Pembroke Hall of Cam- 
 bridge,' collaborated with Middleton in the Spanish Gipsy, published 
 1652, though written nearly thirty years earlier; and probably 
 also in Mere Dissemblers besides Women, published in 1657. The 
 dates of his birth and death are uncertain. 
 
 Page 288, No. 327 — Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye. 
 73Q 
 
NOTES 
 
 Biron's sonnet to Rosalind from Love's Labour's Lost, 1592, act iy. 
 sc. 3; it was included as the third poem in The Passionate Pil- 
 grim. 1599. (See note to No. 41.) 
 
 Page 289, No. 328 — Sweetest love, I do not go. Line 7, Use 
 myself: accustom myself. Line 13, Fear not: for me. 
 
 Page 293, No. 331 — Shall I come, sweet Love, to thee. From 
 Campion's Third Book of Airs, 1617. " The melodious serenade 
 worthy even of Shelley." (BuUen.) 
 
 Page 294, No. 332 — Open the door! Who's there within? From 
 Martin Peerson's Private Music, 1620. Bodleian Library, Douce 
 Collection. 
 
 Page 294, No. 333 — Only Joy! now here you are: The Fourth 
 Song in Astrophel and Stella. Line 14, Cupid's yoke: Grosart's 
 ed. reads Cupid's knot. Line 21, Hap: good luck. Line 28, 
 Folks: Folio reads Fools, which Dr. Grosart suggests is ' gayer 
 yet deeper than folks.' Line 34, Frame: design or build up (it, the 
 time or opportunity). 
 
 Page 298, No. 335 — dear life, when shall it be. The Tenth 
 Song in Astrophel and Stella. Stanzas vi., vii., viii., do not 
 appear in the Quarto Ed., 1591. Line 8, After parting, aught forgot: 
 Quarto of 1591 reads: By thine absence oft forgot. Line 45, 
 Melts: Quarto reads, Heets. Line 47, Revived: Quarto reads, 
 received. 
 
 Page 299, No. 336 — Sweet Adon, darest not glance thine eye. 
 From 'Never Too Late, 1590. Greene several times revived the 
 old combination of French and English verse. It will be noticed 
 that in this poem the first and third line carry on the lyric; the 
 second, fourth, fifth, and sixth being refrains. 
 
 Page 301, No. 337 — Therefore above the rest, Ambition sat. 
 This selection is from Christ's Victorie on Earth, published at 
 Cambridge, 1610. The author of this poem, son to Giles Fletcher 
 the elder, brother to Phineas Fletcher, and cousin to the dramatist, 
 was as certainly Milton's master as Spenser was Browne's. 
 " That Christ's Victorie," Dr. Grosart writes (Memorial-Introduc- 
 tion to G. Fletcher's Poems, Fuller's Worthies Library), " had one 
 supreme student in John Milton every one discerns; and the one 
 is compensating renown." Line 8, Golden virges: rods. Line 25, 
 Wat'ry orbicles: soap-bubbles. Line 43, Stench: staunch. Line 86, 
 Where deeply both: i. e., presumption and Satan. 
 
 Page 305, No. 338 — My only star. From Davison's Poetical 
 Rhapsody, 1602. Line 26, Lines: letter; as also in Line 53. Lines 
 43-4. The verbal quibble in these lines are typically Elizabethan. 
 
 Page 307, No. 340 — ■ There is none, O none but you. This poem 
 is No. xiii. in the Second Part (Light Conceits of Lovers) of 
 Campion's Two Books of Airs, 1613. It is included by Dr. Hannah 
 in his Courtly Poets, 1870, where it is attributed to Robert, Earl 
 of Essex, on the testimony of the Aubrey's MSS., printed by Dr. 
 Bliss, the editor of Wood's Fasti. 
 
 73^ 
 
NOTES 
 
 Page 308, No. 341 — I serve Aminta, whiter than the snow. 
 Like Nos. 253 and 255 (see note supra) this poem is from £m^- 
 land's Helicon, 1600, where it is signed *' Shepherd Tony." Line 3, 
 More -fine in trip: of daintier step. Line 13, Curster . . . by 
 kind: more vixenish in disposition. 
 
 Page 310, No. 343 — The green that you would wish me wear. 
 George Turberville (1530P-1594) was a Dorsetshire man of good 
 family, educated at Winchester and Oxford. Besides writing a 
 good many occasional poems he was also the author of a woric 
 on Falconry and made many translations. This selection is the 
 best specimen of his lyrical work. Line 18, Refuse: refusal. 
 
 Page 313, No. 345 — ^Loving in truth, and fain in verse my 
 love to show. The initial sonnet of Astrophel and Stella, 1591. 
 " The very first piece of the series, an oddly compounded sonnet 
 of thirteen Alexandrines and a final heroic, strikes the note of 
 intense and fresh poetry which is only heard afar oif in Surrey and 
 Wyatj^ which is hopeless to seek in the tentatives of Turberville 
 and Googe, and which is smothered with jejune and merely literary 
 ornament in the less familiar work of Thomas Watson. The 
 second line, . . . the couplet (lines 7 and 8) . . . and the sudden 
 and splendid finale . . . are things that may be looked for in 
 vain earlier." (George Saintsbury, Elizabethan Literature, 1887.) 
 
 Page 314, No. 346 — First shall the heavens want starry light. 
 From Rosalind, 1590. In speaking of the influence of Desportes, 
 Mr. Bullen says: " It seems to me that whenever Lodge imitated 
 Desportes, he greatly improved upon his model. Desportes has 
 a sonnet beginning: 
 
 " On verra defaillir tous les astres aux cieux, etc. 
 
 Compare this with Lodge's poem beginning First shall the heaven, 
 etc. Desportes' sonnet is a bundle of dry conceits; Lodge's song 
 is musical as a running brook." {Introduction, Lyrics from Eliz- 
 abethan Romances, 1890.) 
 
 Page 315, No. 347 — Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor 
 boundless sea. Sonnet Ixv. Shakespeare's Sonnettes, 1609. 
 Line 4, Action: apparently used in the legal sense suggested by 
 hold a plea in line 3. Line 10, Time's chest: Theobald proposed 
 Time's guest, but Malone defends this reading by showing that the 
 image of a jev/el in a chest was a favorite one with Shakespeare. 
 Line 12, Of beauty: the or of the Quarto is a manifest error. 
 
 Page 316, No. 349 — Let me not to the marriage of true minds. 
 Sonnet cxvi. Shakespeare's Sonnettes, 1609. It would be dif- 
 ficult to cite a finer passage of moral poetry than this description 
 of the master passion. (Leigh Hunt, English Sonnets.) " Admits 
 his wanderings, but love is fixed above all the errors and trials of 
 man's life." Line 2, Admit impediments: See the Form of Solem- 
 nization of Matrimony : If any of you know cause or just impedi- 
 ments, etc. Lines 2-3, Love is not love: Cf. King Lear, act i. sc. 1: 
 
 Love's not love 
 When it is mingled with regards that stand 
 Aloof from the entire point. 
 
NOTES 
 
 Lines 5-6, An ever-fixed mark: Cf, Coriolanus, act v. sc. 3: 
 Like a great sea-mark standing every flaw. 
 
 Line 7, It is a star: Prof. Dowden interprets this passage: 
 " As the star, over and above what can be ascertained concerning 
 it for our guidance at sea, has unknowable occult virtue and in- 
 fluence, so love, besides its power of guiding us, has incalculable 
 potencies," and adds, " Height, it should be observed, was used 
 by Elizabethan writers in the sense of value, and the word may be 
 used here in a double sense, altitude (of the star) and value (of 
 love)." Line 9, Time's fool: the sport or mockery of Time. Cf. 
 King Henry IV., act v. sc. 4: 
 
 But thought's the slave of life, and life time's fool. 
 
 Line 11, His brief hours: i. e., Time's. Line 12, Bears it out even 
 to the edge of doom: Cf. All's Well that Ends Well, act iii. sc. 3: 
 
 We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake 
 To the extreme edge of hazard. 
 
 Page 318, No. 352 — Happy ye leaves whenas those lily hands. 
 This is the opening sonnet of the Amoretti, 1595. These sonnets 
 furnish us with a circumstantial and interesting account of Spen- 
 ser's second courtship, which, after many repulses, was successfully 
 terminated by the marriage celebrated in the Epithalamium. (See 
 p. 358, No. S92.) Line 10, Of Helicon whence she derived is: Dr. 
 Grosart explains this obscure passage by the suggestion that the 
 allusion is to the name (Elizabeth) of Spenser's wife. (See note 
 to No. 538.) In sonnet xxxix. of the Amoretti reference is made 
 to My Helice, which would seem to confirm this idea (Helice — 
 Elise?). 
 
 Page 318, No. 353 — Rose-cheek'd Laura, come. "In 1602 ap- 
 peared Thomas Campion's Observation in the Art of English Poetry, 
 the famous pamphlet in which this graceful Elizabethan rimer ad- 
 vocated a return to classical quantitative verse. He illustrated 
 his proposed rhythms with original experiments, which in all but 
 one case are no less unhappy than most quantitative poems in 
 English. The one exception, however, illustrating a trochaic strophe, 
 deserves to be quoted as an example, not only of graceful melody, 
 but of perfect lyrical form. The motive — Laura's beauty — is 
 introduced in the first words, developed through an Elizabethan 
 * conceit ' of human beauty in general, and closed with a philosophic 
 contemplation of perfect beauty in the abstract." (John Erskine: 
 The Elizabethan Lyric, ed. 1905.) See also Observation in the art 
 of English Poesy, p. 258, Bullen's ed. of Campion's Works, 1903. 
 
 Page 320, No. 355 — Fair Hebe, when dame Flora meets. From 
 Thomas Bateson's First Set of English Madrigals, 1604. 
 
 Page 320, No. 356 — This morning timely wrapt with holy fire. 
 From Epigrams, 1616. Lucy, Countess of Bedford, sister and co- 
 heir of the second Lord Harrington, was a gifted woman of varied 
 attainments and distinguished by her liberal patronage of men of 
 genius; Drayton, Donne, Daniel, and Jonson being especially 
 indebted to her munificence, for which all of them have paid 
 poetical tribute. She died in 1627. 
 
 733 
 
NOTES 
 
 Page 325, No. 364 — Here lies the blithe spring. From Ford 
 and Dekker's The Sun's Darling, 1656. The play was licensed in 
 1623-4. The songs are doubtless by Dekker. 
 
 Page 327, No. 368 — Fair is the rose, yet fades with heat or 
 cold. From Orlando Gibbons' First Set of Madrigals, 1612. 
 
 Page 331, No. 374 — O perfect Light, which shaid away. From 
 Poems of Alexander Hume, Scottish Text Society Publications. 
 Alexander Hume was born at Reidbrais, North Berwick (Scotland), 
 1556-7, and died in 1609. He belonged to a minor but still im- 
 portant branch of the great clan which, in the fifteenth and six- 
 teenth centuries, possessed the larger portion of the Merse and 
 part of East Lothian. He was the second of seven sons and two 
 daughters born to Patrick and Agnes Hume, his father being the 
 grandson of the first Patrick Hume, the Comptroller of Scotland in 
 1499. It has been invariably assumed that Hume studied at St. 
 Andrew's. Circumstances, however, point to his matriculation in 
 1571 as a student of St. Mary's. Later he travelled in France, 
 and on his return became attached to the Court of James VI. 
 " Hume's Summer Day," says Lawson {Introduction to Poems, 
 1902), " suggests not only the Prologues of Douglas, but Thom- 
 son's Seasons, and the prose idyll which Richard Jeffries called 
 The Pageant of Summer {The Life of the Fields, pp. 41-64). It is 
 more limited in scope than the Summer of the former, for it treats 
 a day poetically, not formally, and it does not range over the 
 experiences of an entire season. But it shows the same love and 
 the same knowledge. . . . The earlier poet, because his ambition 
 is rhore modest, naturally misses much that moved the latter . . . 
 but he has no inartistic digressions, and he has at every point the 
 same sincerity of feeling. . . . Hume and Thomson are alike, how- 
 ever, in adding to the single-hearted love of the sights and sounds 
 amid which they were reared, a full recognition of Nature as the 
 expression of divine power and wisdom. This recognition of spirit 
 above and behind Nature is constant and simple, although we know 
 otherwise that the religious creed of the two Borderers differed 
 materially." Line 1, Shaid: parted. Line 6, Vively: vividly. 
 Line 16, Stripe: rill. Line 21, Astres: stars. Line 23, Offuskit: 
 darkened. Line 29, Boulden: swollen. Line 30, Sheen: bright. 
 Line 37, Reek: smoke-vapor. Line 38, Skails: clears. Line 41, 
 Cloggit: clogged. Line 59, Ding: to beat. Line 91, Simples: 
 herbs. Line 84, Steir: to stir. Line 89, Cessile: yielding, ceasing. 
 Line 93, Flourishes: blossoms. Line 108, O' erf ret: overfretted. 
 
 Page 335, No. 375 — Where the bee sucks, there suck I. Ariel's 
 song in the Tempest, act v. sc. 1. 
 
 Page 342, No. 381 — Jack and Joan, they think no ill. ^ From 
 Divine and Moral Songs in Two Books of Airs, 1613. Line 19, 
 Tutties: Nosegays. 
 
 Page 345, No. 383 — Come follow me, you country lasses. From 
 Fletcher and Rowley's The Maid in the Mill, 1647. Mr. Bullen 
 suspects that Rowley is the author of this song. 
 
 734 
 
NOTES 
 
 Page 346, No. 384 — Haymakers, rakers, reapers and mowers. 
 From Ford and Dekker's The Sun's Darling, 1656. I follow Mr. 
 Bullen in assigning this song to Dekker. 
 
 Page 347, No. 385 — What pleasure have great princes. From 
 William Byrd's Psalms, Sonnets,- and Songs, 1588. 
 
 Page 348, No, 386 — Ah, what is love? It is a pretty thing. 
 From The Mourning Garment, 1590. Prof. Brown, of Canter- 
 bury College, New Zealand, in speaking of Robert Greene says: 
 " Wild with the feverish life of an actor, yet penning songs that 
 breathe in every line of rest , . . oblivious to the graces of his 
 most virtuous wife, for the blandishments of a ' sorry ragged 
 quean ' and yet capable of uttering the most lyrical eulogy of 
 rustic married life." (Grosart's Greene I. xlix.) Line 28, Af- 
 fects: affections. Line 36, Spill: destroy. Line 42, Stthe: time 
 (originally a journey, hence an occasion). 
 
 Page 350, No. 387 — Come, spur away. Thomas Randolph, after 
 an honourable career as a student pensioner at Trinity College, 
 Cambridge, went to London, where his rare promise procured his 
 adoption as one of the " sons of Ben," before he had actually 
 accomplished any great achievement in verse. Anthony Stafford 
 was a noted prose writer of the day, an account of whose works 
 may be found in Collier's Rarest Books in the English Language, 
 iv., 90. Line 4, Chargeable : expensive. Line 16, Puisne of the 
 Inns of Court: a junior student in the law courts. Line 23, 
 No finger lose: Randolph himself had lost a finger in a fray. 
 Line 32, Hyde Park was originally a game preserve, but became 
 a fashionable promenade in the reign of Charles II. Line 36, 
 The Cheap : Cheapside, the principal retail street of old London. 
 Line 76, Noble Barclay: perhaps Sir John Berkley, Governor of 
 Exeter, to whom Herrick addresses the lines: 
 
 Stand forth, brave man, since fate has made thee here 
 The Hector over aged Exeter. 
 
 Page 353, No. 388 — Let Mother Earth now deck herself in 
 flowers. From Arcadia, 159.8. 
 
 Page 356, No. 389 — Cynthia, to thy power and thee. From 
 The Maid's Tragedy, 1619, act i. sc. 2. - ' 
 
 Page 357, No. 391 — Roses, their sharp spines being gone. From 
 The Two Noble Kinsmen, 1634. On the title-page of the first ed. 
 of this play Shakespeare's name is associated with Fletcher's as 
 joint author. There is naturally much difference of opinion as to 
 the authorship of this song. The weight of authority, seems to be 
 against Shakespeare, although from internal evidence, strong argu- 
 ments can be made against this opinion.- 
 
 There are, however, many instances in Fletcher's lyrical poems 
 when he, without apparent difference, achieves Shakespeare's man- 
 ner. Cf. song from Valentinian, Now the lusty spring is seen. 
 Mr. Bullen says: " I have given the song tentatively to Fletcher, 
 but I have a strong suspicion that it is by Shakespeare." {Lyrics 
 from Elizabethan Dramatists, 1889.) Line 7, Primrose, first-born 
 child of Ver: the punctuation at the end of this line has heretofore 
 been a comma, which resulted in a certain obscurity in the succeed- 
 
 735 
 
NOTES 
 
 ing line. Mr. Quiller-Couch, in the following interesting note, 
 explains the matter, and his suggestion has been followed in the 
 present text. 
 
 " The opening lines of the second stanza have generally been 
 printed thus: 
 
 " Primrose, first-born child of Ver, 
 Merry springtime's harbinger. 
 
 With her bells dim. . . . 
 
 and many have wondered how Shakespeare or Fletcher came to 
 write of the bells of a primrose. ... I have always suspected, 
 however, that there should be a semicolon after ' Ver ' and that 
 ' merry springtime's harbinger, with her bells dim,' referred to a 
 totally different flower — the snow-drop, to wit. And I now learn 
 from Dr. Grosart, who has carefully examined the 1634, and early 
 editions, that the text actually gives a semicolon. The snow-drop 
 may very well come after the primrose in the song, which altogether 
 ignores the process of the seasons." (Adventures in Criticism, 
 pp. 42-3.) 
 
 Page 358, No. 392 — Ye learned sisters, which have oftentimes. 
 " This splendid poem," says Mr. Erskine (Study of Elizabethan 
 Lyrics), " is considered by many critics the foremost of Eliza- 
 bethan lyrics. It illustrates the many-sided tastes of the pastoral 
 lyrists. It is idyllic in method; the emotion is advanced through 
 a series of lyric units, each inspired by a separate picture. Strictly 
 speaking, each stanza, with its own inspiration, is a song in itself, 
 and the complete poem is a series rather than an organic whole. 
 But the lyrical emotion aroused by all the motives is the same in 
 every case, so that, in the broad sense, it would be difficult to 
 deny_ unity to the poem. In the subject-matter, as well as in the 
 emotion, unity is secured by describing the events of one day in 
 order from daybreak to midnight." 
 
 " Two references in the Epithalamium give us its date and scene. 
 Its date was the 11th June, 1594, as thus: 
 
 " This day the sunne is in his chiefest hight 
 
 With Barnaby the bright-- (Lines 265-6.) 
 
 The scene was the cathedral of Cork — and (it is believed) 
 Bishop William Lyon was the chief officiating clergyman: 
 
 " Open the temple gates unto . my love, 
 Open them wide that she may enter in . . . 
 And all the pillours deck with girlands trim — 
 
 (Lines 204-7.) 
 
 — with after mention of the ' high altar ' and ' roring organ ' 
 and ' choristers.' 
 
 " The splendour of the ceremonials, the * many gazers,' the stir 
 and concourse of the gentlest and richest, and the whole tone of 
 the Epithalamium, harmonize with the bride having been a ' Lady,' 
 such as by kinship at least Elizabeth Boyle doubtless was. The 
 question of the enraptured bridegroom: 
 
 " Tell me ye merchants daughters did ye see 
 So fayre a creature in your towne before? 
 
 (Lines 167-8.) 
 
NOTES 
 
 whilst informing us that they were of the crowding spectators, 
 does not involve that the ' bride ' was a merchant's daughter. 
 Such a marriage procession of minstrels with ' pipe ' and ' tabor ' 
 and ' trembling croud ' and damzels with ' tymbrels ' and dance 
 and running page-boys, and herself ' clad all in white,' . . . once 
 more render preposterous any. thought of such a bride having 
 been a peasant. 
 
 "Was ever marriage so 'married to immortal verse?' Even 
 when we think of Comus and the Arcades Dean Church's eloquent 
 verdict is unimpeachable: ' His bride was immortalized as a fourth 
 among the three Graces, in a richly painted passage in the last 
 book of the Faerie Queene. But the most magnificent tribute 
 to her is the great Wedding Ode, the Epithalamium, the finest 
 composition of its kind, perhaps in any language. . So impetuous 
 and unflagging, so orderly, and yet so rapid in the onward march 
 of its stately and varied stanzas; so passionate, so flashing with 
 imaginative wealth, yet so refined and self-restrained. It was 
 always easy for Spenser to open the flood-gates of his inexhaustible 
 fancy. With him — The numbers flowed as fast as spring doth 
 rise — But here he has thrown into his composition all his power 
 of concentration, of arrangement, of strong and harmonious gov- 
 ernment over thought and image, over language and measure and 
 rhythm; and the result is unquestionably one of the grandest 
 lyrics in English poetry. We have learned to think the subject 
 unfit for such free poetical treatment; Spenser's age did not.' 
 Prof. John Wilson may supplement this: 
 
 " * We are not unread in Catullus. But the pride of Verona 
 must bow his head in humility before this bounteous and lovelier 
 lay. Joy, Love, Desire, Passion, Gratitude, Religion, rejoice in 
 presence of Heaven, to take possession of Affection, Beauty, Inno- 
 cence. Faith and Hope are bridesmaids, and holiest incense is 
 burning on the altar.'" Dr. Grosart, Life of Spenser, pp. 202-4, in 
 Complete Works, Spenser Society Publ., 1882-4. Line 51, And 
 diapred lyke : diversified, a word borrowed frOm Chaucer. See 
 the Romaunt of the Rose, line 934, ed. Urr. : 
 
 And it was painted well and thwitten, 
 And ore all diapred and written. 
 
 Chaucer also uses the word dappled and dapple gray, as applied 
 to a horse, in his Rime of Sir Topas; and we are by no means 
 convinced that diapred and dappled are not the same word, al- 
 though a different etymology has been given to them; a horse 
 may be called dappled, bfecause his coat presents the appearance 
 of being diapred. (Todd.) Line 81, The marvis descant playes: 
 In our old Dictionaries and Glossaries the marvis is usually inter- 
 preted the thrustle or thrush. As the marvis is sometimes men- 
 tioned in our ancient poetry together with the thrush, I suppose 
 the marvis means the cock-thrush, or song thrush, the cock being 
 most distinguished for its tones. See Chaucer's Romaunt of the 
 Rose, describing the sweet song of various birds, line 665 : 
 
 And thrustils, terins, and marvise, 
 That songin, etc. (Todd.) 
 
 Line 82, The Ruddock : robin-red-breast. Cf . Shakespeare's Cym- 
 "beline. Line 83, Agree with sweet consent: The reading should 
 be concent, says Collier, for harmony. Spenser uses concent and 
 
 :737 
 
) 
 NOTES 
 
 concented in the Faery Queene, Compare Warton's note on * pure 
 concent' to Milton's Ode at a Solemn Musick. Line 131, The 
 trembling Croud: Crotta; Welsh, crwth, the fiddle. From Anglo- 
 Saxon Cruth, says Skinner. Collier says: The croud has generally 
 been explained to mean the Micula Britannica, or fiddle, and a 
 crowder is a fiddler. The word is of perpetual occurrence from 
 the time of Chaucer, and even earlier, to that of Butler. Line 
 149, Lyke Phoebe: What the Psalmist has sublimely said of the Sun, 
 Spenser has here applied to the Moon. See Psalm xix. 5. (Todd.) 
 Line 154, Her long loose yellow locks: It is remarkable that Spen- 
 ser's females, both in the Faery Queene and in his other poems, 
 are all described with yellow hair. And, in his general description 
 of the influence of beauty over the bravest men, he particularizes 
 golden tresses. See Faery Queene, Bk. v. viii. 1. This is said in 
 compliment to his mistress, as here, and in sonnet xv. ; or to 
 Queen Elizabeth, who had yellow hair; or perhaps in imitation 
 of the Italian poets, who give most of their women tresses of this 
 colour. (Warton.) Ibid., lyke golden wire: our old poets 
 were fond of this resemblance. Thus, in Ahr. Fraunce's Second 
 Part of the Countess of Pembroke's Yvychurch, 1591, where he 
 is describing Phillis: 
 
 Eyes like bright starrs, and fayre brows dayntily fmyling, 
 And cherefull forehead with gold-wyre all to be decked. 
 
 And in the romance of Palmendos, Bk. I. 4to, 155, a lady is 
 described with gold-wire hair. . . . And, in Richard Barnfield's 
 The Affectionate Shepherd, 1594: 
 
 Cut off thy lock, and sell it for gold-wier. 
 
 The Scottish Muses disdain not the same similitude. See Sibbald's 
 Chronicle of Scottish Poetry, vol. i., 162: 
 
 As golden wier so glitterand was his hair. 
 
 Again, p. 202: 
 
 As rid gold-wyir schynit hir hair. (Todd.) 
 
 Line 174, Charming men to byte: i. e., tempting by enchantment. 
 Line 253, And sprinkle . . . with wine: Cf. the Faery Queene, 
 Bk. I. xii. '38: 
 
 Then gan they sprinckle all the posts with wine. 
 
 Line 290, The night's sad dread: This epithet was wanting till 
 the first folio was published. (Todd.) " We are not at all con- 
 vinced," says Collier, " of the necessity for sad ; Spenser may have 
 written nightes, as a dissyllable, a not at all unusual practice with 
 him. However, as some alteration must be made, we follow the 
 folio 1611." Line 341, Ne let the Pouke: The ponke or pouke 
 (the earlier editions to Collier read the former) is the fairy 
 Robin Goodfellow, or Hob-goblin, known by the name of Puck. 
 This spirit appears to have taken pleasure in deriding the solem- 
 nities of the nuptial feast, and interrupting the mirth Math his 
 wicked tricks. See The Second Part of Robin Goodfellow, com- 
 monly called Hob-gobUn, 1628, Chap. 6. Line 380, The Latmian 
 Shepherd: In the first edition the reading is Latinian_ shepherd. 
 The allusion is to Endymion, whose love for Cynthia is well 
 
NOTES 
 
 known through Keats' beautiful poetic romance. Drayton wrote 
 a poem on the same subject, called Endymion and Phoebe, published 
 in 1594, of which very little is known. 
 
 Page 373, No. 393 — Come, come, dear Night, Love's mart of 
 kisses. From the Tale of Teras in the Fifth Sestiad of Hero and 
 Leander, 1598. The poem to the end of the Second Sestiad was 
 a fragment left by Marlowe at his death and first printed in 1598; 
 Chapman wrote the remaining three Sestiads, in one of which 
 appears this song. Though Warton describes Hero and Leander 
 as a translation, it is a paraphrase from the Greek poem attributed 
 to Musaeus. 
 
 Page 374, No. 394 — Up! Youths and virgins! up, and praise. 
 From The Description of the Masque, with Nuptial Songs, cele- 
 brating the Happy Marriage of John, Lord Ramsay, with the Lady 
 Elisabeth Radcliife, 1608. 
 
 Page 377, No. 395 — Calme was the day, and through the trem- 
 bling ayre. A Spousal' verse . . . in honour of the double marriage 
 of the two honourable and virtuous ladies^ the Lady Elizabeth 
 and the Lady Katherine Somerset, daughters to the right honour- 
 able the Earl of Worcester and espoused to the two worthy gentle- 
 men, M. Henry Gilford and M. William Peter, Esquires, 1596. 
 The poem was privately printed for the families connected with 
 the ceremony. It is Spenser's latest extant poem. line 3, That 
 lightly did delay: temper, or mitigate, as in the Faery Queene, 
 Bk. ii. ix. 30 — But to delay the heat. Hughes, however, rejects 
 the old word, and reads allay; to which unjustifiable alteration 
 the modern editions also conform. Delay is repeatedly used in 
 this sense by Spenser. (Todd.) Line 12, Whose rutty Bancke : 
 that is, whose bank full of roots; rootie is an old English adjective. 
 See Cotgrave's Fr. and Eng. Diet. (Todd.) " Chapman is the only 
 poet," says Collier, " that we are aware of, who used the adjective 
 rooty; and so he spelled it, and not rutty as in Spenser; he is 
 speaking of the rooty sides of a hill. Iliad, Bk. xvii. 1. 654." 
 Line 17, Which is not long: i. e., approaching near at hand. Cf. 
 the Faery Queene, Bk. iv. iv. 12. (Warton.) Line 22, With 
 goodly greenish locks, all loose untyde: "This custom appears 
 to have been usual in this country even at the beginning of the 
 eighteenth century, for thus Nahum Tate writes (strangely 
 enough indeed as to the comparison), in his Injured Love, etc., 
 a tragedy, 1707. 'Untie your folded thoughts, and let them 
 dangle loose as a bride's hair.' " (Todd.) Line 37, With that 
 I saw Swannes: See Hughes's remark on this fiction in his 
 Essay on Allegorical Poetry, vol. ii., p. xv. It is probable, as 
 Warton also thinks, that Spenser, in this description, had his eye 
 sometimes on Leland's Cygnea Cantio. (Todd.) Line 67, Yet 
 were they bred of Somers-heat: A punning allusion to the sur- 
 name of the Ladies (Somerset) whose marriages this spousal verse 
 celebrates. Line 82, Like a brydes chamber iiore : See Epitha- 
 lamium, p. 360, lines 8-9. Line 80, A noble peer. Great England's 
 glory: Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, in August, 1596, returned 
 to England the hero of an expedition to Spain where he had 
 captured Cadiz by great personal bravery, and left seriously 
 crippled the Spanish -navy. Lines 120-1, That did excell . . . The 
 rest, so far as Cynthia. Cf. Horace Ode I. xii. 46: 
 
 739 
 
NOTES 
 
 Micat inter omnes 
 Julium fidus, velut inter ignes 
 
 Luna minores. (Todd.) 
 
 Line 121, Doth shend: put to shame, disgrace. Cf. The Faery 
 Queene : 
 
 Her fawning love with foule disdainfull spight 
 He would not shend. 
 
 Debateful strife, and cruel enmity, 
 
 The famous name of knighthood fowly shend. 
 
 Line 175, The Bauldricke of the Heavens: a girdle or belt, formed 
 from the base latinity baldringum, balteus. The expression is 
 from Manilius: 
 
 Sed noche ingenti stellatus balteus orbe. (Upton.) 
 
 Gf . The Faery Queene, V. i. 2 : 
 
 The heavens bright-shining baudricke to enchace. 
 
 Page 384, No. 397 — A Nymph is married to a Fay. This 
 beautiful poem is the Eighth Nimphall in The Muses Elizium, 1630. 
 
 Page 395, No. 398 — / tell thee, Dick, where I have been. " The 
 version ,of this famous ballad, which has created one of the 
 world's ' familiar quotations,' is the same as that accepted by Mr. 
 Locker-Lampson in his delightful Lyra Elegantiarum. . . .He 
 says in connection with this ballad: 'This is one of his (Suck- 
 ling's) best poems, and as Leigh Hunt says — his fancy is so full 
 of gusto as to border on imagination. Three stanzas of the poem 
 have been necessarily omitted.' In reality six stanzas have been 
 cut from the poem as it originally stood. It was written upon the 
 occasion of the marriage of Suckling's friend, Roger Boyle (Lord 
 Broghill or Brohall, afterward Earl of Orrery), and Lady Mar- 
 garet Howard, daughter of the Earl of Suffolk. There are evi- 
 dences that it was set to music which was very popular. John 
 Lawson wrote of the ballad: 'This is really excellent, brisk, 
 humorous, and poetical.' Wordsworth wrote: ' I fully concur in 
 Mr. Lawson's criticism, but wish he had been more explicit. . . . 
 This may safely be pronounced his opus magnum: indeed for 
 grace and simplicity it stands unrivalled in the whole compass of 
 ancient and modern poetry.'" Line 8, We . . , do sell our hay: 
 The Haymarket of London of to-day. Line 9, A house with 
 stairs: said to be Suffolk House, afterwards Northumberland 
 House. Line 31, The maid, and thereby hangs a tale: Wordsworth 
 wrote: "His portraits of female beauty are not so finished as 
 Byron or Moore, but they possess a great attraction, because he 
 gives only a glimpse and leaves the rest to fancy." (F. A. Stokes, 
 Suckling's Poems.) 
 
 Page 405, No. 405 — Orpheus with his lute made trees. From 
 King Henry VIII., 1623, act i. sc. 1. 
 
 Page 407, No. 408 — If music and sweet poetry agree. This 
 sonnet was long attributed to Shakespeare in The Passionate Pil- 
 
NOTES 
 
 grim, 1599. It appeared in Barnfield's Poems in Divers Humors, 
 1598. See note to No. 41. 
 
 Page 407, No. 409 — > Thence passing forth, they shortly doe 
 arryve. From the Faerie Queene, Bk. II. canto xii. stan. 42. This 
 well-known selection of Spenser's gorgeous allegory never dimin- 
 ishes in charm for the lovers of what is most beautiful in imagery 
 and music in English poetry. Line 7, Or that may dayntest fancy 
 aggrate : In the later editions daynest has been unwarrantably 
 changed to daintiest. Line 17, And eke the gate: If the reader 
 will take the trouble, or pleasure, to compare this description 
 which Tasso has given of the palace of Armida, he will see how, 
 in many particulars, our poet borrows, and how he varies. The 
 gates (says the Italian poet) were of silver, in which were 
 wrought the stories of Hercules and lole, of Anthony and Cleo- 
 patra. Spenser describes the expedition of Jason, and his amours 
 with Medea. (Upton.) Upton gives no reference to the par- 
 ticular part of Tasso's Gerusalemme Liberata, to which he refers, 
 presuming, perhaps, that the readers of Spenser were well ac- 
 quainted with it: it may be found near the opening of Canto xvi., 
 Per I'entrata maggior, etc. Line 69, Gather therefore the Rose: 
 Marston, in his copy of the Faery Queene, edit. 1590, has espe- 
 cially marked the excessive beauty of this portion of the poem, 
 and opposite the words Gather therefore the Rose, he wrote in 
 the margin, Collige virgo rosas, etc. (Collier.) Line 72, Whilst' 
 loving thou mayst loved be with equal crime: Compare Fairfax's 
 translation of the Gerusalem^ne Liberata, Bk. xvi. stan. 14, 15; 
 and his obligations to Spenser, see the Preface to Coleridge's 
 Seven Lectures on Shakespeare and Milton, p. xxxiv. (Collier.) 
 
 Page 411, No. 411 — Now is the time for mirth. Line 7, Of 
 her pap: i. e., sap. Line 10, Arabian dew: spikenard. Line 12, 
 Retorted hairs: tossed wildly back. Line 20, The world had all 
 one nose: a play on the poet's name — Ovidius Naso. Line 21, 
 This immensive cup: i. e., measureless. 
 
 Page 413, No. 412 — The sun which doth the greatest comfort 
 bring. This poem was appended, in both folios, to The Nice 
 Valour, or The Passionate Madman; and reprinted among Beau- 
 mont's Poems, 1653. Professor Charles Eliot Norton found among 
 some MSS. of Donne's Poems a transcript of two of Beaumont's 
 poems, his Ad Comitissam- Rutlandi and The Letter to Ben 
 Jonson. Both of the manuscript poems, said Professor Norton, 
 were found to be improvements on the commonly known texts. 
 "This is especially true," he continues, "of the latter, the more 
 important poem — a poem delightful and well-known to all the 
 lovers of the poetry of the Elizabethan age." A variant reading 
 from Dvce's text is given of the poem and the MS. (See Studies 
 and Notes in Philology and Literature, 1896, vol. 5, pp. 19-22.) 
 Line 15, Sutcliffe's wit: Probably, as Dyce suggests, Dr. Matthew 
 Sutcliffe, first Provost of King Tames' College in Chelsea, of whom 
 Fuller says {Church History, Bk. X. Lect. iii. 25-27), "Doctor 
 Sutcliffe (was) a known rigid anti-remonstrant; and when old, 
 very morose and testy in his writings against them." (Norton.) 
 Line 16, Lie where he will: i. e., in whatever place he lodges. Line 
 17, Robert Wisdom: He contributed to Hopkins and Sternhold's 
 Psalms, the XXV. psalm, and the hymni 
 
 741. 
 
NOTES 
 
 Preserve us, Lord, by thy dear word, 
 From Turk and Pope, defend us Lord, etc. 
 
 He died in 1568. The quaintness of his name, as well as the 
 poverty of his poetry, caused him frequently to be ridiculed. 
 (Weber.) For a poem of Wisdom's see p. 547, No. 522. Line 22, 
 Make legs: i. e., to make bows. Line 21 , We are all equal every 
 whit: Seward, at Sympson's suggestion, pointed the passage thus: 
 
 We are all equal: every whit 
 Of the land that God gives, etc. 
 
 and so his successors. But the old punctuation is right, the mean- 
 ing of the line being — From the land which God gives men here, 
 their wit comes. (Dyce.) Line 30, Main house jest, t. e., the 
 chief standing family-jest, which has descended from father to son 
 for some generations. (Heath, MS. Notes.) Line 60, Ballating: 
 ballading. Line 69, Of the Guard. Dyce explains this as gard, 
 equivalent to garden; a questionable interpretation. If the MS. 
 reading be right, it is a jest at some guard which had no soul 
 but the vegetative. (Norton.) 
 
 Page 420, No. 417 — Fine knacks for ladies! cheap, choice, 
 brave and new. From John Dowland's Second Book of Songs or 
 Airs, 1600. " Dowland . . . had the distinction," says Mr. Er- 
 skine {Study of The Elizabethan Lyric, ed. 1905, pp. 229-30), "of 
 presenting here one of the famous pedlar-songs of Elizabethan 
 poetry. . . . The great antiquity of mercers' songs in England 
 has already been noticed. (Ibid. Chap, ii.) The character of the 
 roving pedlar, especially if he were wittily impudent, seems to 
 have appealed strongly to the Elizabethan imagination. In its 
 normal presentation, Shakespeare's Autolycus (see below Nos. 418 
 and 419) sums up the type. Dowland's pedlar, however, is ideal- 
 ized into a second-hand philosopher; every line of his speech, in 
 phrase and thought, is a burlesque echo of the moral verses in the 
 miscellanies." 
 
 Page 421, No. 418 — Lawn as white as driven snow. This song 
 and the number following, 419, are from A Winter's Tale, 1610, 
 act iv. sc. 3. See note to No. 417, above. 
 
 Page 422, No. 421 — O never say that I was false of heart. 
 Sonnet cix. in Shakespeare's Sonnettes, 1609. The first ardour 
 of love is now renewed as in the days of early friendship (see 
 Sonnet cviii., lines 13-14). But what of the interval of absence 
 and estrangement? Shakespeare confesses his wanderings, yet 
 declares that he was never wholly false. (Dowden.) Line 2, 
 To qualify: to temper, moderate. Cf. Troilus and Cressida, act ii. 
 sc. 2: 
 
 or is your blood 
 So madly hot, that no discourse of reason. 
 Nor fear of bad success in a bad cause. 
 Can qualify the same. 
 
 Line 4, My soul which in thy breast doth lie: Cf. King Rich- 
 ard III., act i. sc. 1 : " Even so thy breast encloseth my poor 
 heart." Line 7, Just to the time, not with the time exchanged: 
 742 
 
NOTES 
 
 punctual to the time, not altered with the time. So Jessica in her 
 boy's disguise, Merchant of Venice, act iii. sc. 6: 
 
 I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me, 
 
 For I am much ashamed of my exchange. (Dowden.) 
 
 Line 11, Stain' d: Staunton proposes strain'd. Line 14, My Rose: 
 Shakespeare returns to the loving name which he has given his 
 friend in Sonnet i.: " That thereby beauty's Rose might never die." 
 
 Page 423, No. 422 — From you I have been absent in the spring. 
 Sonnet xcviii. in Shake-speare's Sonnettes, 1609. The sonnet 
 following this (No. 423) in the sequence is numbered xcvii., and 
 treats of absence in Summer and Autumn. Professor Dowden 
 thought it begun a new group. To me, however, the better arrange- 
 ment, especially for my purpose here, is the transposition I have 
 made, though Mr. Quiller-Couch and other editors have followed 
 the order in the Series. The mood here is of Absence in Spring. 
 Lines 2-3, Proud-pied April: Cf. Romeo and Juliet, act i. sc. 2: 
 
 Such comfort as do lusty young men feel 
 When well-apparell'd April on the heel 
 Of limping winter treads. • 
 
 Line 4, That: so that. Line 7, Summer's story tell: By a Sum- 
 mer's story Shakespeare seems to have meant some gay fiction. 
 Thus, his comedy founded on the adventures of the king and queen 
 of the fairies he calls A Midsummer Night's Dream. On the other 
 hand, in The Winter's Tale he tells us " a sad tale's best for 
 winter." So also in CymbeUne, act iii. sc. 4: 
 
 — if it be summer news 
 Smile to it before: if winterly, thou needst 
 But keep that countenance still. (Malone.) 
 
 Line 11, They were but sweet: Malone proposed, " they were, my 
 sweet, but," etc. The poet declares, as Steevens says, that the 
 flowers are only sweet, only delightful, so far as they resemble 
 bis friend. Lettsom proposes: " They were but fleeting figures of 
 delight." (Dowden.) 
 
 Page 424, No. 423 — How like a winter hath my absence been. 
 Sonnet xcvii. in Shake-speare's Sonnettes, 1609. Line 5, This time 
 removed: this time of absence. Line 7, Prime: Spring. Line 10, 
 Hope of orphans: such hope as orphans bring; or, expectation of 
 the birth of children whose father is dead. (Staunton.) Dowden 
 proposes crop of orphans. 
 
 Page 424, No. 424 — Absence, hear thou my protestation. On 
 the evidence of an early MS. this poem has been assigned to 
 Donne, which seems well affirmed by the peculiar attributes it 
 possesses of Donne's genius. It appeared unsigned in Davison's 
 Poetical Rhapsody, 1602, and later in a collection of verse called 
 The Grove, 1721. "The circumstances," writes Mr. Quiller-Couch, 
 " of Donne's life give these verses a peculiar interest. Being 
 secretary to the Lord Chancellor Ellesmere, he ' passionately fell 
 in love with, and privately married, a niece of the Lady Ellesmere's, 
 the daughter of Sir George Moor, Chancellor of the Garter, and 
 Lieutenant of the Tower, which so much enraged Sir George, that 
 
 743 
 
NOTES 
 
 he not only procured Mr. Donne's dismission from his em- 
 ployment under the Lord Chancellor, but never rested till he had 
 caused him likewise to be imprisoned. Though it was not long 
 before he was enlarged from his confinement, yet his troubles still 
 increased upon him; for his wife being detained from him, he 
 was constrained to claim her by a troublesome and expensive law- 
 suit, which, together with travel, books, and a too liberal disposi- 
 tion, contributed to reduce his fortune to a very narrow compass. 
 " * Adversity has its peculiar virtues to exercise and work upon, 
 as well as the most flourishing condition of life; and Mr. Donne 
 had now an opportunity of showing his patience and submission, 
 which, together with the general approbation he everywhere met 
 with of Mr. Donne's good qualities, with an irresistible kind of 
 persuasion so won upon Sir George, that he began now not wholly 
 to disapprove of his daughter's choice; and was at length so far 
 reconciled as not to deny them his blessing.' The death of his wife 
 broke Donne's heart." (The Golden Pomp.) Compare these 
 verses with Carew's To his Mistress in Absence, Vincent's ed. 
 Poems of Carew, 1899, p. 29. 
 
 Page 425, No. 425 — Be your words made, good Sir, of Indian 
 ware. Sonnet cxii. in Astrophel and Stella, 1591. Line 3, Or do 
 you cutted Spartans imitate: Dr. Grosart retains the reading of 
 the 1605 folio, curted. "The reference in any case," says Mr. 
 Pollard, " is to the churlish brevity of the Spartans, and the 
 form of curted is but little less difficult to explain than cutted." 
 Middleton uses the word in the sense of cross: "She's grown so 
 cutted there's no speaking to her." Women Beware Women, act iii. 
 sc. 1. 
 
 Page 426, No. 426 — Tell me not. Sweet, I am unkind. See note 
 
 to No. 210. 
 
 Page 427, No. 428 — A seeing friend, yet enemy to rest. From 
 The Phoenix' Nest, 1593. 
 
 Page 430, No. 432 — You hrave heroic minds. Of this ode, Mr. 
 Oliver Elton {Michael Drayton, A Critical Study, new ed., 1905) 
 says: " Often it has the true music, as of the harp speeding a 
 vessel that is launched with colours flying to win some new con- 
 tinent of odourous tropic fruits and illimitable gold. The Vir- 
 ginian Voyage has some wonderful words, sassafras, Hackluit, that 
 make the fortune of their rhymes, and the relief is heightened by 
 the subtle — not really prosaic — soberness of their epithets: in- 
 dustrious Hackluit, useful sassafras, like words almost in the ordi- 
 nary pitch interjected in a chant. This ode runs more easily than 
 the others in spite of the lacework of its rhymes: 
 
 You brave heroic minds. 
 Worthy your country's name, 
 That honour still pursue. 
 Go, and subdue. 
 Whilst loitering hinds 
 
 Lurk here at home for shame. 
 
 The oars plash to the loud and hopeful thrumming of the player. 
 as he faces outward to where beyond the Pillars a far world 
 awaits him, one day to be populous with poets and heroes, the 
 
 744 
 
NOTES 
 
 descendants of the high-hearted voyagers." Line 16, Where Eolus 
 scowls: ^olus, the deity of the winds. Line 68, Industrious 
 Hakluyt: "The Collection of Voyages, which was published by 
 Hakluyt in 1582, disclosed the vastness of the world itself, the 
 infinite number of the races of mankind, the variety of their laws, 
 their customs, their religions, their very instincts. We see the 
 influence of this new and richer knowledge of the world, not only 
 in the life and richness which it gave to the imagination of the 
 time, but in the immense interest wlaich from this moment attached 
 itself to man." (Green's England, vol. ii., bk. vi., p. 462.) 
 
 Page 433, No. 433 — Ye buds of Brutus' Land, Courageous youth, 
 now pMy your parts. From A Posie of GilloHowers, eehe dif- 
 fering from other in colour and odour, yet all sweete. By Hum- 
 frey Gifford, Gent., 1580. Line 1, Ye buds of Brutus' land: i. e., 
 scions of England, from the mythical descent from Brutus. 
 
 Page 434, No. 434 — Fair stood the wind for France. " This 
 poem, like the Battle of Brunanburh," writes Mr. Erskine, in his 
 Minot's songs, '* is remarkable for its choric quality: the voice of 
 the whole people is heard in it. In modern English literature it 
 has hardly a parallel as a national song with the possible exception 
 of some of Campbell's odes, and Tennyson's Charge of the Light 
 Brigade. Tennyson may have been influenced by Drayton. Their 
 two battle-songs have almost the same narrative method, almost 
 the same rhythm, and exactly the same cadence at the end." Mr. 
 Oliver Elton, in Michael Drayton, A Critical Study (Ed. 1906.), 
 says of this ode : " It was not many years since the great theatrical 
 success of Henry V.; and the most famous of Drayton's odes may 
 be taken as a lyrical epilogue, or rather intermezzo, by Shake- 
 speare's countrymen. It has been so arranged by Mr. Henley in 
 his Lyra Heroica. Usually known as the Ballad of Agincourt, it 
 was first entitled To my Friends the Camber-Britons and their 
 Harp. The old popular ditty, Agincourt, Agincourt, was in the 
 writer's ears. He liked his poem, if we may judge by his nice 
 and numerous improvements. The earlier version suffers from 
 ungainliness or elliptical grammar; a few remaining traces _ of 
 them in the later one are the only interruptions to its felicity. 
 There is also a tendency to multiply the spondees, the better to 
 hear tipe thud of the marching army — left, right. A few lines 
 can show the change: 
 
 (1) 
 
 1606 
 
 Fair stood the wind for France 
 When we our sails advance 
 And now to prove our chance 
 
 Longer not tarry: 
 But put unto the main 
 At Kaux the mouth of Seine 
 With all his warlike train 
 
 Landed King Harry. 
 
 (2) 
 
 And now preparing were 
 
 For the false Frenchmen. 
 
 1619 
 
 Fair stood the wind for France 
 When we our sails advance 
 Nor now to prove our chance 
 
 Longer will tarry: 
 But putting to the main 
 At Kaux the mouth of Seine 
 With all his martial train 
 
 Landed King Harry. 
 
 O Lord, how hot they were 
 
 On the false Frenchmen. 
 
 745 
 
NOTES 
 
 (3) 
 
 When now that noble king This, while our noble king 
 
 His broadsword brandishing His broadsword brandishing 
 
 Into the host did Aing Down the French host 
 
 As to o'erwhelm it. did ding 
 
 As to o'erwhelm it. 
 
 This poem, the fine flower of old patriot lyric, shows a happier 
 and more sensitive use of proper names than the play of Henry V. 
 Shakespeare, in his list of those who fell at Agincourt, uses names 
 for purely memorial reasons, copying Holinshed like an inscrip- 
 tion: and ' Sir Richard Ketley, Davy Gam, esquire,' is the worst 
 line in his works. ' Ferrers and Fanhope,' in the ballad, have a 
 different value to the ear." 
 
 The text here used is that of the 1619 version except in two 
 or three instances of single epithets, which, despite Mr. Elton's 
 opinion, seem the more apt for both sense and rhythm. 
 
 The Battle of Agincourt was fought October 25th, 1415. A 
 small army of Englishmen, under Henry V., defeated the French 
 sixty thousand strong. " The triumph was more complete," says 
 Green, " as the odds were even greater than at Cregy. Eleven 
 thousand Frenchmen lay dead on the field, and more than a hun- 
 dred princes and great lords were among the fallen." Line 82, 
 Bilboes: swords, from Bilboa. 
 
 Page 439, No. A2>S ^ His golden locks Time hath to silver 
 turn'd. From Polyhymnia, Describing, The Honourable Triumph at 
 Tylt, before her Maiestie, on the 17. of November past (1590), 
 being the iirst day of the three and thirtieth yeare of her High- 
 nesse raigne, etc. The following account of the yearly Triumph 
 at Tilt is condensed by Oliphant from Sir W. Segars' Honors Mili- 
 tary and Civil, 1602, contained in Nichols' Progresses of Queen 
 Elisabeth, vol. iii., p. 60, as given by Dyce's ed. of Peele, p. 265 : 
 " Certain yearly Triumphs were solemnized in memory of the ap- 
 plause of her Majesty's subjects at the day of her most happy 
 accession to the crown of England, which triumphs were first begun 
 and occasioned by the right virtuous and honourable Sir Henry 
 Lea, master of her Highness' armory; who of his great zeal and 
 desire to eternize the glory of her Majesty's court in the begin- 
 ning of her reign, voluntarily vowed, — unless infirmity, age, or 
 other accident did impeach him, — during his life to present himself 
 at the tilt, armed, the day aforesaid, yearly; there to perfcrm in 
 honour of her sacred Majesty the promise he formerly made. The 
 worthy knight, however, feeling himself at length overtaken with 
 old age, and being desirous of resigning his championship, did 
 on the 17th of November, 1590, present himself, together with the 
 Earl of Cumberland, unto her Highness under her gallery window 
 in the tilt yard at Westminster, where at that time her Majesty 
 did sit, accompanied with the Viscount Turyn, Ambassador of 
 France, by many ladies and the chiefest nobility. Her Majesty, 
 beholding these armed knights coming toward her, did suddenly 
 hear a music so sweet and secret, as every one thereat did greatly 
 marvel. The music aforesaid was accompanied with these verses, 
 pronounced and sung by Mr. Hale, her Majesty's servant, a gen- 
 tleman in that art excellent, and for his voice both commendable 
 and admirable: My golden locks, etc. After the ceremonies Sir 
 Henry Lea disarmed himself, and kneeling upon his knees pre- 
 sented the Earl of Cumberland, humbly beseeching that she would 
 
 746 
 
NOTES 
 
 receive him for her knight, to continue the yearly exercise afore- 
 said. Her Majesty having accepted the offer, this aged knight 
 armed the earl, and mounted him upon his horse. That being done, 
 he put upon his own person a side-coat of black velvet and covered 
 his head in lieu of an helmet with a button-cap of the country 
 fashion." The poem has been assigned to Robert Devereux, Earl 
 of Essex, in a Masque at Greenwich. {Arber's English Garner.) 
 It was set to music in the First Book of John Dowland's So7igs 
 and Airs, 1597. Line 7, His helmet now shall make a hive for 
 bees: In Alciati's Emblems there is an engraving of bees swarm- 
 ing in a helmet. Cf. Geoffrey Whitney's Choice of Emblems, 1586: 
 
 The helmet strong that did the head defend. 
 Behold, for hive the bees in quiet served; 
 And when that wars with bloody blows had end. 
 They honey wrought where soldier was preserved: 
 Which doth declare the blessed fruits of peace. 
 How sweet she is when mortal wars do cease. 
 
 Something of the modern popularity of this song is due to Thack- 
 eray's application of it in The Newcomes, chap, xxxviii., where it 
 is put into the mouth of George Warrinton in consolation to Col. 
 Newcome when he became a pensioner at old Grey Friars. 
 
 Page 441, No. 438 — Thrice toss these oaken ashes in the air. 
 From Campion's Third Book of Airs, 1617. This poem was in- 
 cluded in the 1633 ed. of Joshua Sylvester's Works, among the 
 " Remains never till now imprinted." Sylvester has not a shadow 
 of a claim to it. There is a copy of it in Harleian MS. 6910, fol. 
 150, where it is correctly assigned to Campion. The MS. is given 
 in form of a sonnet. (Bullen.) Dr. Grosart in his ed. of Syl- 
 vester's Works {Chertsey Worthies) claims it positively for his 
 author. 
 
 Page 442, No. 439 — Son of Erebus and Night. From The 
 Inner Temple Masque, 1614-15, sc. 2. Warton, who was the first 
 to suggest Milton's debt to Browne, quoted this poem in his 
 History of English Poetry, 1777-81. Line 6, Mandragoras : man- 
 drake, see note to No. 315. Line 9, Coil: tumult. Line 15, Moly: 
 Cf. Odyssey, x. 305. (Schelling.) Line 17, Jaspis: jasper, which 
 the ancients believed to possess the power of breeding spells. 
 
 Page 442, No. 440 — When Daisies pied and violets blue. From 
 Love's Labour's Lost, 1592, act v. sc. 2. 
 
 Page 443, No. 441 — The ousel-cock, so black of hue. From 
 A Midsummer Night's Dream, 1595, act iii. sc. 1. Line 6, The 
 Plain-song cuckoo. Cf. Note to No. 11. 
 
 Page 444, No. 442 — You spotted snakes, with double tongues. 
 From A Midsummer Night's Dream, 1595, act ii. sc. 3. 
 
 Page '445, No. 443 — From thy forehead thus I take. From The 
 Faithful Shepherdess, 1609-10, act iii. sc. 1. 
 
 Page 446, No. 444 — Old Chaucer doth of Topas tell. It is 
 certain that no one will dispute Mr. Oliver Elton's statement that 
 this is the "finest of all seventeenth-century fantasies;" but will 
 
 747 
 
NOTES 
 
 add that it is the finest in all the language. To quote Mr. Elton 
 further from Michael Drayton, A Critical' Study (ed. 1905), the 
 reason is apparent : " To conceive common things in miniature, 
 fitted to the needs of an elf; to plant the faintest sting of satire 
 in a gay parody of well-nigh forgotten chivalrous ballads; to carry 
 the vein of Sir Topas into the world of Oberon;i it is all done, 
 and. yet without one touch of the suffusing imagination of Shake- 
 speare's Dream, which Drayton had before him. The Nymphidia 
 does not move in the land of dreams at all, their wings do not 
 brush it. The smallest things described are in clear daylight. But 
 the verses are kept fresh by the nicety of cutting." Line 63, There 
 dancing hays: country dances. Line 71, This aulfe: i. e., oaf. 
 Line 281, I'll never lin: cease. Line 285, Thorough brake, etc. 
 Cf. p. 441, No. 4S7. 
 
 Page 471, No. 445 — Sing his praises that doth keep. From 
 The Faithful Shepherdess, 1609-10, act i. so. 2. 
 
 Page 472, No. 447 — Where dost thou careless lie. From Under- 
 woods, Folio 1640. Line 6, And (that) destroys: In the original 
 there is a deficient syllable where the brackets enclose. Gilford sup- 
 plied so, and Whalley, quite: neither of which seems so apt as 
 that. Line 36, Safe from the wolf's black jaw, etc. Part of this 
 concluding stanza is to be found at the end of The Poetaster; Jon- 
 son's dislike of the stage here breaks out; and this is not the only 
 passage in his writings which informs us that necessity alone 
 compelled him to write for the stage. 
 
 Page 474, No. 448 — Who grace for zenith had. This poem, an 
 adaptation of Sir Edward Dyer's Fancy (see note to No. 445), is 
 from Sonnet Ixxxiii. in Coilica, in Grosart's ed. of Lord Brooke's 
 Works, 1623. It is reprinted in Dr. Hannah's Courtly Poets, 1870. 
 The original arrangement of the lines is after the form of the 
 poet's lament for Sidney, and run: 
 
 Who grace for zenith had, from which no shadows grow; 
 Who had seen joy of all his hopes, and end of all his woe, etc. 
 
 Line 133, The ship of Greece: The reference here is to the famous 
 ship in which Theseus returned after slaying the Minotaur. The 
 Athenians professed to _ preserve _ it until the days of Demetrius 
 Phalereus, the rotten timbers being carefully removed from time 
 to time, so that it became a favourite question whether a ship 
 could still be called the same. (Plutarch, Thes., p. 10, ed. 1620.) 
 " This passage," says Hannah, " in which Lord Brooke compares 
 the changes of his mistress to that ship of Greece, and to the 
 ever flowing stream — the same yet not the same -^ perpetually alter- 
 ing, yet bearing continuously ' the antique name,' — is an excel- 
 lent specimen of the subtle conceptions which he loved to elaborate 
 in his poetry. But the whole poem is raised to a level of thought 
 curiously different from that of the two pieces by Dyer and South- 
 well, with which it is connected." 
 
 Page 481, No. 450 — Sound is the knot that Chastity hath tied. 
 From William Byrd's Psalms, Sonnets, and Songs, 1588. The .first 
 two stanzas have been omitted. 
 
 748 
 
NOTES 
 
 Page 484, No. 454 — The man of life upright. From Campion 
 and Rosseter's Book of Airs, 1601. " Campion's classical interest," 
 says Mr. Erskine {The Elizabethan Lyric), " is seen also in trans- 
 lations and paraphrases from the Latin. . . . More characteristic of 
 his classical mood, however, are the Horatian lines, suggestive of 
 Integer Vita, The Man of life; etc. Whenever Campion moralizes 
 he is likely to take this tune, and his theme is almost sure to be 
 praise of the golden mean. This motive had appeared ... in the 
 miscellanies, and Campion at times merely carries on the miscel- 
 lany mood at a higher poetic level." This poem has been attributed 
 to Lord Bacon, but the claim is valueless. It was reprinted in 
 Campion's Two Books of Airs, 1613, with textual alterations. 
 
 Page 485, No. 455 — He that his mirth hath lost. "This poem," 
 says Dr. Hannah, Courtly Poets, ed. 1870, " must have been highly 
 esteemed to have obtained the compliment of adaptation and imi- 
 tation from Robert Southwell and Lord Brooke; and yet I am not 
 aware that it has ever been printed before, except very imperfectly 
 among the Poems of Pembroke and Rudyard, and some extracts 
 by Malone. The MS. copies differ exceedingly, both in various 
 readings and in omissions. I have made out the best text I could, 
 from a careful comparison of all the materials. It is the same 
 piece which Wood erroneously called ' A Description of Friend- 
 ship; ' a title which he took by mistake from another poem in the 
 Ashmolean MS." Line 56, I read the hyacint: spelt so for the 
 rhyme. Literal meaning, to read the fancied letters on its leaves. 
 Line 132, Heben: for ebony. Spenser uses the word often. Cf. 
 His spear of heben wood, — Faery Queene, Bk. I. vii. st. 37. 
 
 Page 491, No. 456 — Not to know vice at all, and keep true state. 
 This poem originally appeared in Love's Martyr or Rosalin's Com- 
 plaint. " Allegorically shadowing the truth of Love, in the con- 
 stant Fate of the Phcenix and Turtle. A poem . . . now first trans- 
 lated out of the venerable Italian Torquato Cseliano by Robert 
 Chester. To these are added some new compositions of several 
 modern writers, whose names are subscribed to their several Works; 
 upon the first subject, viz.: The Phoenix and Turtle." The poem 
 was reprinted in The Forest, folio 1616. Mr. Swinburne says of 
 this poem: " In * The Admirable Epode,' as Gifford calls it, . . . 
 though there is remarkable energy of expression, the irregularity 
 and inequality of style are at least as conspicuous as the occasional 
 vigour and the casual felicity of phrase. But if all were as good as 
 the best passages, this early poem of Jonson's would undoubtedly 
 be very good indeed. Take for instance the description or defini- 
 tion of true love: ' That is an essence far more gentle, iine,' etc. 
 [Lines 45-50.] Again: ' O, who is he that in this peace enjoys,' 
 etc. [Lines 55-65.] And few of Jonson's many moral or gnomic 
 passages are finer than the following: 'He that for love of good- 
 ness hateth ill,' etc. [Lines 87-90.] This metre^ though^^ very 
 liable to the danger of monotony, is to my ear very pleasant." (A 
 Study of Ben Jonson, 1889.) Line 1, State: status, equilibriiim. 
 Line 16, Close cause: secret cause. Line 23, Lamm: alarm. Line 
 29, Passions: the final ion is frequently made dissjdlabic in Eliza- 
 bethan verse. Cf. Page 641, No. 630, line 23. Line 41, With whom, 
 who rides: whom refers to Blind Desire (line 37), K;/io=whoever. 
 Line 44, Prove: experience. Line 47, A golden chain. Cf. these 
 
 749 
 
NOTES 
 
 lines from Jonson's Hymenaei, a Masque, 1606, referred by a mar- 
 ginal note to Iliad, viii., 19: 
 
 Such was the golden chain let down from Heaven; 
 And not those links more even 
 Than these: so sweetly tempered, so combined 
 By union, and refined. 
 
 Lines 63-65, At suggestion of a steep desire, etc. Professor Kit- 
 tredge suggests that a steep desire is a precipitous desire, a desire 
 into which a man casts himself headlong; suggestion implies tempta- 
 tion. The figure is evidently inspired by the temptation of Jesus 
 from the pinnacle of the temple. Line 73, Sparrow's wings: the 
 sparrow was sacred to Venus. Line 104, Only: exclusively. Line 
 113, That knows the weight of guilt: Cf. Senecal 
 
 Quid poena prsesens, conscias mentis pavor; 
 Animusque culpa plenus, et semet timens? 
 Scelus aliqua, nulla securum fulit. 
 
 (Hippolytus, i., 162 et seq.) 
 
 Page 496, No. 458 — Where wards are weak and foes encount'ring 
 strong. From Poems, 1595. Line 6, Seely trench: i. e., innocent, 
 harmless. Line 18, Mushrumps: mushrooms; both forms were 
 used in Southwell's day. Line 19, In Aman's pomp poor Mardocheus 
 wept: "When Mordecai perceived all that was done, Mordecai 
 rent his clothes, and put on sackcloth and ashes, and went out 
 into the midst of the city, and cried with a loud and bitter cry." 
 {Esther, chap. IV. 1.) Aman: Haman. Mardocheus: Mordecai. 
 
 Page 497, No. 459 — Let not the sluggish sleep. From William 
 Byrd's Psalms, Songs, and Sonnets, 1611. " Quaint, old-fashioned 
 moral verses were much aiTected by Byrd, particularly in his latest 
 song-book. He inculcates precepts of homely piety in a cheerful 
 spirit, with occasional touches of naive epigrammatic terseness. 
 Many men strongly object to be bullied from a pulpit, but he must 
 be a born churl who could be offended at such an exhortation as 
 the following." (Bullen, Introduction, Lyrics from Elizabethan 
 Song-Books, ed. 1891.) 
 
 Page 497, No. 460 — In going to my naked bed as one that 
 would have slept. From The Paradise of Dainty Devices, 1576, 
 where Edwardes is named as " sometimes Master of the Singing- 
 boys at the Chapel Royal." He died ten years before The Paradise 
 appeared. 
 
 Page 500, No. 462 — My hovering thoughts would fly to heaven. 
 Line S, Haled down: hauled. Line 11, Jesses: The short strap, 
 usually of leather, fastened about the leg of a hawk used in falconry 
 and continually worn. Line 13, Trains to Pleasure's lure: To train 
 was the usual term in falconry for drawing or enticing the hawk 
 back to the fist. " The lure " was the decoy. 
 
 Page 501, No. 463 — The world's a bubble and the life of man. 
 From Reliquia Wottoniance, 1651. This poem was signed " Ignoto " 
 in the first ed. It was first ascribed to Bacon in Farnaby's Flori- 
 legium, 1629, and has elsewhere been ascribed to Raleigh, Donne, 
 and Henry Harrinton. The evidences of Bacon's authorship are 
 briefly stated in Dr. Hannah's Courtly Poets, ed. 1870, p. 117. 
 
NOTES 
 
 The poem is paraphrased from a Greek epigram variously attributed 
 to Poseidippus, to the comic poet, Plato, and to Crates, the lyric 
 poet, beginning: 
 
 JIoir]v Tis ^lStolo Ta/xoi. rpl^ov ; etV ''ayopy fxev 
 Nct'/cea /cat x'^^^Txai wpi^^ies k. t. X. 
 
 (Anthol. Graeca, ix. 359.) 
 
 A literal translation of this epigram reads: "What path in life 
 shall a person cut through! In the forum are quarrels and difficult 
 suits; at home cares; in the fields enough of toils; in the sea 
 fright; in a foreign land fear, if you have anything; but if you 
 are in a difficulty, vexation. Have you a wife? you will not be 
 without anxiety. Are you unmarried? you live still more solitary. 
 Children are troubles. If childless life is a maimed condition. 
 Youth is thoughtless. Gray hairs are strengthless. There is a 
 choice of one of these two things, either never to have been born, 
 or to die as soon as born." (Bohn.) Several other Elizabethan 
 poets have made translations or paraphrases of the epigram. The 
 opening couplet of three of these are: 
 
 At least with that Greek sage still make us cry 
 Not to be born, or, being born, to die. 
 
 (Bishop King.) 
 
 Who would not one of these two offers choose: 
 Not to be born, or breath with speed to lose. 
 
 <Sir John Beaumont.) 
 
 Who would not one of these two offers try, — • 
 Not to be born, or being born, to die? 
 
 (Drummond of Hawthornden.) 
 
 Page 503, No. 464 — Go, nightly cares, the enemy to rest. From 
 John Dowland's A Pilgrim's Solace, 1612. Line 13, Amate: con- 
 found. 
 
 Page 503, No. 465 — He that to such a height hath built his mind. 
 This seems to me to have been the noblest moral ode in the lan- 
 guage prior to some of Wordsworth's Odes, of which, indeed, the 
 Intimations of Immortality alone exceeds it. It was addressed to 
 Margaret, Countess of Cumberland, to whose daughter, Lady Anne 
 Clifford, Daniels was appointed tutor in 1600. Wordsworth quotes 
 it in The Excursion, Bk. iv., lines 324-335 (Poetical Works, 1865, 
 vol. vi., p. 132), and declares it to be "an admirable picture of 
 the state of a wise man's mind in a time of public commotion." 
 " Certainly," writes Mr. Quiller-Couch (Adventures in Criticism, 
 1898, p. 58), "if ever a critic shall arise to deny poetry the 
 virtue we so commonly claim for her, of fortifying men's souls 
 against calamity, _ this noble epistle will be all but the last post 
 from which he will extrude her defenders." 
 
 Page 505, No. 466 — What if a day, or a month, or a year. From 
 Richard Alison's An Hour's Recreation in Music, 1606. Three 
 additional stanzas, found in The Golden Garland of Princely^ De- 
 lights, and in the Roxburghe Ballads, are not given in Alison's 
 version, and Mr. Bullen doubts if they were written by Campion. 
 
 751 
 
NOTES 
 
 Also in the Roxburghe Ballads a " Second part " is appended. It 
 would seem that Campion was indebted to a. fifteenth-century song 
 (contained in Ryman's collection in the Cambridge Public Library) 
 which commences : 
 
 What yf a daye, a night, or howre 
 Crowne my desyres wythe every deyghte, 
 
 for in Sanderson's Diary (in the British Museum MSS. Lansdowne, 
 241, fol. 49, temp. Elizabeth) the first two stanzas of the song 
 appear more like the song in Ryman, and differing in minor points 
 from the later version. The first two stanzas were anonymously 
 printed as early as 1603, at the end of A verie excelent and delecta- 
 bill Treatise intitulit Philotus, etc. A long notice of this song is 
 given in Chappell's Popular Music. of the Olden Time, vol. i., p. 310. 
 
 Page 506, No. 467 — Farewell, ye gilded follies, pleasing trou- 
 bles! In the first edition of Walton's Angler this poem is prefaced 
 by the remark, "as some say written by Dr. D. [Donne.]" In 
 later editions is added " and some say, written by Sir Harry 
 Wotton." In Ashmolean MS. 38, the verses are entitled Doctor 
 Donne's Valediction to the World, and in Wit's Interpreter, 1671, 
 it is credited to Sir Kenelm Digby. Sir H. Nicolas is authority 
 for the statement that the verses are said to have been written by 
 Raleigh in the Tower shortly before his execution, but although, as 
 Schelling says, " ' the bold and insolent vein ' is not unlike Sir 
 Walter," there seems to be no other authority for ascribing them 
 to him. Archbishop Sancroft gives them with the title An Her- 
 mit in an arbour, with a prayer-book in his hand, his foot spurning 
 a globe, thus speaketh. (MS.- Tarn.), but does not mention any 
 author's name. Line 17, Unkind: unnatural. Line 18, Mind: 
 mine. Line 31, Vie angels with India: Vie, here a technical 
 term from the game gleck or primero, signifying to wager on a 
 hand of cards. Hence here to wager angel-nobles to an amount such 
 as India, with her wealth, would not be able to equal, or " cover." 
 (Schelling.) 
 
 Page 510, No. 469 — Care for thy soul as thing of greatest price. 
 From William Byrd's Psalms, Sonnets, and Songs, 1588. 
 
 Page 511, No. 471 — My mind to me a kingdom is. Jonson 
 alludes to this poem in his play. Every Man out of his Humour, 
 acted 1599, act i. sc. 1. It was printed irom Rawlinson MS. 85, 
 p. 17, by Dr. Hannah in his Courtly _ Poets, 1870. Other copies, 
 longer and anonymous, have been printed from various sources^ 
 including Percy. Sylvester imitated it; Works, p. 651. 
 
 Page 515, No. 474 — Martial, the things that do attain. This 
 poem is a translation from one of Martial's Epigrams. The poem 
 has not only the merit of being one of the earliest translations 
 in our language from any approved classic, but of being, perhaps, 
 the best translation that has appeared. Surrey, having selected 
 a' poem of a grave and moral nature, from an author who abounds 
 with many of a lighter cast, such as would be considered more 
 attractive to the generality of youthful readers, proves him to 
 have had an elevated mind, and a high sense of what is due to 
 virtue. The Epigram from Martial is as follows: 
 
 752. 
 
NOTES 
 
 A d Scipsum 
 
 Mtam quae faciunt beatiorem, 
 Jucundissime Martialis, hsec sunt. 
 Res non parta labore, sed relicta, 
 JMon ingratus ager,- focus perennis. 
 Lis nunquam, toga rara, mens quieta, 
 Veres ingenuse, salubre corpus, 
 Prudens simplicitas, pares amici; 
 Convictus facilis, sine arte mensa, 
 Nox non ebria, sed soluta curis, 
 Non tristis torus, et tamen pudicus, 
 Somnus qui faciat breves tenebras. 
 Quod sis esse velis, nihilque malis: 
 Summum nee metuas diem, nee optes. 
 
 Line 3, The riches left: "All other copies," observes Nott, "read 
 the richesse left. I believe no more was intended than the plural 
 nominative, ricJies. It will be proper to observe, however, that 
 richesse is frequently used as a singular substantive for wealth 
 personified, as in the Romaunt of the Rose, line 1071; or a state 
 of wealth, answering to la richesse in French; in which sense 
 it seems to have been used by our best early writers." Cf. Spenser's 
 Faery Queene, Bk. II. Can. vii. St. 24: 
 
 Betwixt them both there was but little stride 
 
 That did the House of Richesse from hell-mouth divide. 
 
 Line 8, The Household of continuance : It is accepted that Surrey 
 meant " An household, or family that is not of recent establish- 
 ment, and promises to be of duration." 
 
 Page SIS, No. 475 — How happy is he born and taught. From 
 the Reliquice Wottoniance, and reprinted by Percy. Ben Jonson, 
 who admired the poem very much, had the lines by heart, and 
 quoted them to Drummond as Wotton's. They are said to "be 
 almost identical with a German poem of the same age. Wotton, 
 it is believed, may have seen the original in one of his many 
 embassies to Germany on behalf of Elizabeth of Bohemia. 
 
 Page S19,_No. Ad,l~ Happy were he could finish forth his fate. 
 " This ' passion ' is said to have been enclosed in a letter to Queen 
 Elizabeth from Ireland in 1599." (Hannah's Courtly Poets, p. 177.) 
 Line 6, Hips and haws: The fruit of the wild-rose and hawthorn. 
 
 Page 524, No. 487 — Even such is Time, that takes in trust. Of 
 this poem, with another beginning Give me mv scallop-shell of 
 quiet (see No. 6o6, p. 617), it is asserted that Sir Walter wrote 
 them in the Tower on the night before his execution. Mr. Quiller- 
 Couch judges that the assertion is probably based upon inference, 
 though he admits, even if Sir Walter wrote them either then or at 
 any other time, that they should have been attributed to him as 
 appropriate is evidence in favour of a " character that has been 
 fudged so variously." Dr. Hannah mentions it as printed with 
 Raleigh's Prerogatives of Parliaments. 1628, and probablv still 
 earlier; also with To-day a man, To-morrow none, 1643-4, in 
 Raleigh's Remains, 1661. Reliquice Wottoniance, 1651, gives it with 
 the title, Sir: Walter the Night before his Death. 
 
 %53: 
 
NOTES ^ 
 
 Page 525, No. 488 — Time is the feathered thing. Jasper Mayne 
 was Archdeacon of Chichester. He played the dramatist and wrote 
 much occasional verse, some of which is to be found in Tonsonus 
 Virbius, and prefixed to the Second folio ed. of Beaumont and 
 Fletcher, 1679. In middle life Mayne gave up poetry. The piece 
 here given is by far the best of his shorter poems. 
 
 Page 526, No. 489 — Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way. From 
 The Winter's Tale, 1610, act. iv. sc. 3. 
 
 Page 527, No. 492 — 'Tis mirth that fills the veins with blood. 
 From The Knight of the Burning Pestle, 1611, act ii. sc. 1. 
 
 Page 529, No. 495 — The earth, late choked with showers. From 
 Scylla's Metamorphosis, 1589. The poem is imitated from Philippe 
 Desportes: 
 
 La terre naguere glacee 
 
 Est ores de vert tapissee, 
 
 Son sein est embelli de fleurs, 
 
 L'air est encore amoureux d'elle, 
 
 Le ciel rit de la voir si belle, 
 
 Et moi j'en augmente mes pleurs. 
 
 Les bois sont couverts de feuillage, 
 De vert se pare le bocage, 
 Ses rameaux sont tous verdissants; 
 Et moi, las! prive de ma gloire, 
 Je m'habille de couleur noire, 
 Signe des ennuis que je sens. 
 
 Des oiseaux la troupe legere 
 Chantant d'une voix ramagere 
 S'egaye aux bois a qui mieux mieux: 
 Et moi tout rempli de furie 
 Je sanglotte, soupire et crie 
 Par les plus solitaires lieux. 
 
 Les_ oiseaux cherchent la verdure: 
 Moi, je cherche une sepulture. 
 Pour voir mon malheur limite. 
 Vers le ciel ils ont leur volee: 
 Et mon ame trop desolee 
 N'aime rien que I'obscurite. 
 
 Lodge greatly admired and often imitated Desportes, of whose 
 works he speaks (1589) as " being for the most part Englished and 
 ordinarily in every man's hand." (See Nos. 194 and 346, pp. 172, 
 314.) 
 
 Page 531, No. 498 — They that have power to hurt and will do 
 none. Sonnet xciv. in Shakespeare's Sonnettes, 1609. Shake- 
 speare has described his friend (see Sonnet xciii.) as able to show 
 a sweet face while harbouring false thoughts; the subject is en- 
 larged on in the present sonnet. They who can hold their passions 
 in check, who can seem loving, yet keep a cool heart, who can 
 move passions in others, yet are cold and unmoved themselves, — 
 they rightly inherit from heaven large gifts, for they husband 
 them; whereas passionate, intemperate natures squander their en- 
 dowments; those who can assume this or that semblance as they see 
 
 754 
 
NOTES 
 
 reason are the masters and owners of their faces; others have no 
 property in such excellences as they possess, but hold them for the 
 advantage of the prudent, self-contained persons. True, these self- 
 contained persons may seem to lack generosity; but, then, w^ithout 
 making voluntary gifts they give inevitably, even as the summer's 
 flower is sweet to the summer, though it live and die only to 
 itself. Yet, let such an one beware corruption, which makes odious 
 the sweetest flowers. Line 6, Expense: expenditure, and so loss. 
 Line 11, Base: Staunton proposes foul. (Dowden.) Line 12, The 
 basest weed: Sidney Walker proposes the barest weed. (Dowden.) 
 Line 14, Lilies that fester, etc.: This line occurs, says Dowden, 
 in King Edward III., act ii. sc. 1 (near the close of the scene). 
 I quote the passage that the reader may see how the line comes 
 into the play, and form an opinion as to whether the play or the 
 sonnet has the right of first ownership in it. 
 
 A spacious field of reasons could I urge 
 Between his glory, daughter, and thy shame: 
 That poison shows worst in a golden cup; 
 Dark night seems darker by the lightning flash; 
 Lilies, that fester, smell far worse than weeds; 
 And every glory that inclines to sin, 
 The same is treble by the opposite. 
 
 It should be remembered that several critics assign to Shakespeare 
 a portion of this play, which was first printed in 1596. The lines 
 which have been quoted occur in a scene ascribed to Shakespeare. 
 
 Page 532, No. 500 — Shun delays, they breed remorse. Southwell 
 wrote seven stanzas to this poem, of which, following Mr. Quiller- 
 Couch's example, I give only the first three. The other four con- 
 vey the same advice in varying metaphors, and the poem concludes: 
 
 Happy man, that soon doth knock 
 Babel's babes against the rock. 
 
 Page 534, No. 503 — All the lowers of the spring. From The 
 Devil's Law Case, 1623. 
 
 Page 547, No. 522 — The Indian weed withered quite. From Mr. 
 A. T. Quiller-Couch's Golden Pomp, 1896, where the editor says it 
 was " Kindly sent to me by Dr. C^rosart, from a MS. in Trinity 
 College, Dublin." Wisdome was a Protestant fugitive in Mary's 
 reign; afterwards Rector of Systed in Essex and of Settrington 
 in Yorkshire. He died in 1568. Ralph Erskine's Tobacco Spirit- 
 ualised, beginning: " Tobacco is an Indian weed," etc., is clearly 
 but a copy of this old ditty of Wisdome's. Erskine died in 
 1752. 
 
 Page 547, No. 523 — If thou survive my well-contented day. 
 Sonnet xxxii. in Shake-speare's Sonnettes, 1609. From the thought 
 of dead friends of whom he is the survivor, Shakespeare passes to 
 the thought of his own death, and his friend as the survivor. This 
 sonnet reads like an envoy. (Dowden.) Line 4, Thy deceased 
 lover: The term was used by writers of the Elizabethan age 
 generally for one who loves another, without the meaning of a 
 special passion of love between man and woman. Lines 5-6, 
 Compare them . . . every pen : " May we infer from these lines 
 
 755 
 
NOTES 
 
 (and 10)," asks Prof. Dowden, "that Shakespeare had a sense 
 of the wonderful progress of poetry in the time of Elizabeth? " 
 Line 7, Reserve: preserve. 
 
 Page 548, No. 524 — Th' Assyrian King, in peace, with foul 
 desire. " It was a favourite exercise with the Italian poets," says 
 Nott, " with both the Greek and Latin writers of the lower ages, 
 to compose short copies of verses sometimes in the form of in- 
 scriptions, sometimes as epitaphs on the character of persons 
 distinguished in history. Of this description is the present sonnet. 
 The character of Sardanapalus, whether it be a translation or an 
 original composition, is drawn with a masterly hand. It is probable 
 that Surrey had the conduct of Henry VIII. in mind. The un- 
 fortunate Anne Boleyn, who had been sacrificed to that king's 
 capricious passions, was Surrey's first cousin." Leigh Hunt's inter- 
 pretation of this sonnet is interesting, for he conceives it to be 
 a direct ridicule of Henry under the guise of Sardanapalus, which 
 was no doubt instigated from the beginning, as Nott intimates, 
 because of the close family connections between Anne Boleyn and 
 Surrey. He says {English Sonnets), " By murdering himself to 
 ' show some manful deed,' he means to intimate, that the only 
 thing which was left for Henry to do, in order to show himself 
 not inferior to Sardanapalus, was to be bold enough to commit 
 suicide; but, as Henry failed to do this, he is here delivered up 
 to the disgust of posterity, as a thoroughly unmanly scoundrel. 
 
 " The boldness of the sonnet is wonderful, if we consider the 
 times and the two men. Is it not probable that it was the real 
 death-warrant of Surrey? Henry picked an ill-founded quarrel 
 with him on an assumption in his coat of arms; but what was that 
 assumption, had it even been illegal, compared with this terrible 
 invective? One imagines Henry, with wrath-white lips, putting the 
 copy of it into his pocket, and saying internally, ' I'll murder you, 
 at all events.' And he did." 
 
 Page 549, No. 526 — I'his night is my departing night. These 
 verses are supposed to have been written by one of the Arm- 
 strongs, presumably Thomas, executed for the murder of Sir John 
 Carmichael of Edrom, Warden of the Middle Marches, on June 16, 
 1600, at Raesknows, near Lochmaben, whither he was going to 
 hold a court of justice. " Two of the ringleaders in the slaughter 
 (Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, vol. ii., p. 19), Thomas Arm- 
 strong, called Ringan's Tarn, and Adam Scott, called the Pecket, 
 were tried at Edinburgh at the instance of Carmichael of Edrom. 
 They were condemned to have their hands struck off, thereafter 
 to be hanged, and their bodies gibbeted on the Borough Moor; 
 which sentence was executed 14th November, 1601." 
 
 Page 549, No. 527 — My prime of youth is but a frost of cares. 
 These verses are from Reliquice WottoniancB, where they are said 
 to have been written by " Chidiock Tichborne, being young and 
 then in the Tower, the night before his execution." Tichborpe, 
 a native of Southampton, was executed in 1586, for participating 
 in the Babington's conspiracy. " A beautiful letter," says Mr. 
 Quiller-Couch, " to his wife, written before his execution, is still 
 preserved." The poem was set to music in John Munday's Songs 
 and Psalms, 1594; in Richard Alison's Hours Recreation, 1606; 
 and Michael Este's Madrigals of three, fotir, and Ave Parts, 1604. 
 
NOTES 
 
 Dr. Hannah prints a reply to them in his Courtly Poets, p. 115, 
 purporting to have been written by Babington, Tichborne's fellow 
 conspirator, beginning: 
 
 Thy flower of youth is with a north wind blasted; 
 Thy feast of joy is an idea found, etc. 
 
 Page 550, No. 528 — Come Ihou, who art the wine and wit. 
 Line 46, Platonick year: According to Plato in Timaeus, the 
 period in which the eight stellar circles complete their rotation 
 round the axis of the Kosmos, and return to the same position. 
 
 Page 553, No. 531 — Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts. 
 Sonnet xxxi. in Shakespeare's Sonnettes, 1609. Shakespeare's 
 friend compensates all losses in the past. (Dowden.) Line 6, 
 Dear religious love: In A Lover's Complaint, the beautiful youth 
 pleads to his love that all earlier hearts which had paid homage 
 to him now yield themselves through him to her service (a thought 
 similar to that of this sonnet) ; one of these fair admirers was 
 a nun; a sister sanctified, but (line 250): "Religious love put 
 out Religion's eyes." (Dowden.) Line 10, Hung with the trophies 
 of my lovers gone: Cf. A Lover's Complaint, line 218: 
 
 Lo, all these trophies of affections hot 
 
 Must your oblations be. 
 
 Page 555, No. 533 — My Lute, be as thou wert when thou didst 
 grow. From Poems, Amorous, Funeral, etc.. Part II., 1616. Line 
 4, Ramage : music of the bough, woodland song. 
 
 Page 555, No. 534 — Alexis, here she stayed; among these pines. 
 This, and the following sonnet (No. 535), are numbered Ix. and 
 Ixix., in Songs, Sonnets, etc. Cunningham's ed., 1833. In them 
 the poet mourns the death of his mistress. For account of Drum- 
 mond's love see Masson's Life of Drummond, pp. 46-52. Line 1, 
 Alexis: Name by which Drummond addressed his friend, William 
 Alexander, Earl of Stirling. 
 
 Page 556, No. 536 — No longer mourn for me when I am dead. 
 Sonnet Ixxi. Shakespeare's Sonnettes, 1609. Shakespeare goes 
 back to the thought of his own death, from which he was led 
 away by Sonnet Ixvi., ending " To die, I leave my love alone." 
 The world in this sonnet is the " vile world " described in Ixvi. 
 (Dowden.) Line 2, The surly sullen bell: Cf. 2 King Henry IV., 
 act i. sc. 1: 
 
 a sullen bell, 
 Remember'd knolling a departed friend. 
 
 Line 10, Compounded am with clay: Cf. 2 King Henry IV., act 
 iv. sc. 5 : " Only compound me with forgotten dust." 
 
 Page 559, No. 540 — Here she was wont to go, and here, and here! 
 Line 6, Downy blow-ball: The downy head of the dandelion. 
 Line 9, As she had sown them: Compare Sidney's, " Who hath the 
 feet, whose step all sweetness planteth." — First Song. Astrophel 
 and Stella. 
 
 Page 559, No. 541 — When thou must home to shades of under- 
 ground. From Campion and Rosseter's Boofe of Airs, 1601. In 
 
 757 
 
NOTES 
 
 the whole range of English poetry there is not a more impressive 
 lyric than this. I say impressive because after fascinating with 
 that mysterious and infinite depth of Mona Lisa's smile, — like the 
 enigma of La Giaconda's mouth, — its final emotion is an irre- 
 sistible fatality which seems unescapable. Mr. Bullen says of it: 
 " For romantic beauty (it) could hardly be matched outside of 
 the sonnets of Shakespeare." {Introduction, Lyrics from Eliza- 
 bethan Song-Books.) Line 4, White lope: The mention of white 
 lope must have been suggested by a passage of Propertius, ii. 28: 
 
 Sunt apud infernos tot millia formosarum; 
 
 Pulchra sit in superis, si licet, una locis. 
 Vobiscum est lope, vobiscum Candida Tyro, 
 
 Vobiscum Europe, nee proba Pasiphae. (Bullen.) 
 
 Page 560, No. 542 — When I do count the clock that tells the 
 time. Sonnet xii., in Shakespeare's Sonnettes, 1609. This sonnet 
 seems to be a gathering into one of Sonnets v., vi., vii. Lines 1, 2, 
 like Sonnet vii., speak of the decay and loss of the brightness and 
 beauty of the day; lines 3-8, like Sonnets v., vi., of the loss and 
 beauties of the year. (Dowden.) Line 3, Violet past prime: Cf. 
 Hamlet, act i. sc. 3: "A violet in the youth of primy nature." 
 Line 8. Cf. A Midsummer Night's Dream, act ii. sc. 1 : 
 
 The green corn 
 Hath rotted ere his youth attained a beard. 
 
 Line 9, Question make: consider. 
 
 Page 560, _ No. 543 — Like as the Culver, on the bared bough. 
 The concluding sonnet (Ixxxviii.) in Amoretti, 1595. Line 8, Cul- 
 ver: dove. So, in Caxton's Liber Festivalis, 1483: "The ofiferynge 
 of the riche man was a lambe, and for a pure man a payre of 
 turtyles or two culver byrds." 
 
 Page 561, No. 544 — To me, fair friend, you never can be old. 
 Sonnet civ., in Shakespeare's Sonnettes, 1609. Line 2, Eyed: Cf. 
 " I ear'd her language," in The Two Noble Kinsmen. Line 4, 
 Three summers' pride: Cf. Romeo and Juliet, act i. sc. 2: "Let 
 two more stitnmers wither in their pride." Line 10, Steal from his 
 ■figure: creeps from his figure as the dial. So in Sonnet Ixxvii., 
 " thy dial's shady stealth." 
 
 Page 562, No. 545 — ■ Fair Summer droops, droop men and beasts 
 therefore. From Summer's Last Will and Testament, 1600 (acted 
 in the autumn of 1593, while the plague was raging). Line 6, 
 Leav'st to appear: ceased to appear. 
 
 Page 562, No. 546 — With fair Ceres, Queen of Grain. From 
 Silver Age, 1613. Line 8, Champians : Champaign; open country. 
 
 Page 563, No. 547 — When icicles hang by the wall. From Love's 
 Labour's Lost, 1592. Line 9, Keel the pot: cool by ladling to pre- 
 vent boiling over. (Malone.) Line 11, Saw: a story. Line 14, 
 Crabs: wild apples. 
 
 Page 563, No. 548 — Now winter nights enlarge. From Cam- 
 pion's Third Book of Airs, 1617. " In this collection {Lyrics from 
 Elizabethan Song-Books) where all are good, my favourite is ' Now 
 winter nights enlarge.' " (Bullen.) 
 
NOTES 
 
 Page 564, No. 549 — Shake off your heavy trance. From The 
 Masque of the Inner Temple, performed February, 1612-13, in 
 honour of the marriage of the Count Palatine with the Princess 
 Elizabeth. 
 
 Page 565, No. 550 — Come, Sorrow, come, sit down and mourn 
 with me. From Thomas Morley's First Book of Airs, 1600. Line 
 11, Oh shake thy head, but not a word but mum: The expression, 
 not a word but mum (= silence) was proverbial. Cf. Peele's Old 
 Wives' Tale : 
 
 What? not a word but mum? then Sacrapant, 
 
 We are betrayed. 
 
 Page 565, No. 551 — Come, ye heavy states of night. From John 
 Dowland's Second Book of Songs or Airs, 1600. 
 
 Page 566, No. 552 — Sorrow, Sorrow, say where dost thou 
 dwell? Prof. Schelling comments on the popularity of this dia- 
 logue form in Elizabethan songs, citing a stanza from a recently 
 discovered play of Heywood's, The Captive, or the Lost Recovered,, 
 1624 (Bullen's Old English Plays), beginning: 
 
 O charity, where art thou fled 
 
 And now how long hast thou been dead? 
 
 O many, many, many hundred years. 
 
 In village, borough, town or city. 
 
 Remain there yet no grace no pity? 
 
 Not in sighs, not in want, not in tears, etc. 
 
 Page 567, No. 554 — Hence all you vain delights. From The 
 Nice Valour, or the Passionate Madman, 1647. It is supposed 
 that this song suggested Milton's II Penseroso. Dr. William Strode, 
 a canon of Christ Church, wrote a reply, published in Wit Restored, 
 1658. 
 
 Page 570, No. 556 — Corpse, clad with carefulness. From A. T, 
 Quiller-Couch's Golden Pomp, 1896. 
 
 Page 572, No. 559 — / saw my Lady weep. From John Dow- 
 land's Second Book of Songs or Airs, 1600. 
 
 Page 573, No. 560 — Weep you no more, sad fountains. From 
 John Dowland's Third and Last Book of Songs or Airs, 1603. 
 
 Page 574, No. 562 — Shepherds all, and maidens fair. From 
 The Faithful Shepherdess, 1609-10. 
 
 Page 575, No. 563 — Now, whilst the moon doth rule the sky. 
 From The Faithful Shepherdess, 1609-10. 
 
 Page 576, No. 564 — Pardon, goddess of the night. From Much 
 Ado About Nothing, 1599. 
 
 Page 578, No. 567 — O Night, O jealous Night, repugnant to my 
 measures. From The Phoenix' Nest, 1593. 
 
 Page 586, No. 574 — Queen and huntress, chaste and fair. From 
 Cynthia's Revels, acted 1600, act v. sc. 6. " One of the most 
 
 759 
 
NOTES 
 
 popular songs," says Mr. Erskine {The Elizabethan Lyric, ed. 1905), 
 " which, however, is steeped in classical rather than in English feel- 
 ing. . . . The lyric emotion in Jonson never burns very bright: he 
 is an intellectual artist rather than a singer." Lines 3-4, Seated 
 in thy silver chair State in wonted manner keep. Coleman suggests 
 that these lines may have inspired Milton's: 
 
 Come, but keep thy wonted state 
 With even step and musing gait. 
 
 {It Penseroso.) 
 Line 10, To clear: to make bright, to lighten. 
 
 Page 586, No. 575 — Cynthia, because your horns look divers 
 ways. From Caelica, in Certain Learned and Elegant Works, 1633. 
 Fulke Greville, says Naunton, " had the longest lease and the 
 smoothest time without rub, of any of her [Elizabeth's] favourites. 
 . . . He was a brave gentleman, and honourably descended. . . . 
 Neither illiterate; for . . . there are of his now extant some frag- 
 ments of his poems, and of those times, which do interest him in 
 the Muses, and which shews the Queen's election had ever a noble 
 conduct, and its motions more of virtue and judgment, than of 
 fancy." {Fragmenta Regalia^ ed. Arber, p. 50.) Line 7, Abused: 
 deceived. Line 9, Yet who this language, etc. This is a typical 
 example of Greville's extreme condensation in the expression of 
 pregnant thought. Expressed more fully, whoever speaks to the 
 people of things as they really are breaks the rule of the idol 
 which the sense worships, i. e., the appearance of things. 
 
 Page 587, No. 576 — With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st 
 the skies. Sonnet xxxi. in Astrophel and Stella, 1591. " The first 
 perfectly charming sonnet in the English language, a sonnet which 
 holds its own after three centuries of competition." (George Saints- 
 bury, History of Elizabethan Literat^ire, 1887.) Line 5, Long-with- 
 love-acquainted eyes: Sidney is fond of compound words (as was 
 Shakespeare). In his Defense of Poetry he considers English 
 " particularly happy in compositions of two or three words together 
 . . . which is one of the greatest beauties that can be in language." 
 Line 8, Descries: discloses, shows. Line 14, The last line of this 
 poem is a little obscure by transposition. He means, Do they call 
 tmgr ate fulness there a virtue? (C. Lamb.) 
 
 Page 587, No. 577 — Cynthia, whose glories are at full forever. 
 From Caelica. (See note to No. 575.) 
 
 Page 588, No. 578 — Look how the pale queen of the silent night. 
 Included in Davison's Poetical Rhapsody, 1602. Of Charles Best 
 little is known. He has verses before Robert Pricket's Honours 
 Fame in Triumph Riding, 1604, and Sir William Leighton's 
 Tears or Lamentations of a Sorrowful Soule, 1614. which probably 
 belong to Christopher Brooke. John Davies of Hereford addressed 
 an epigram to " My kind friend, Mr. Charles Best " (among the 
 Epigrams to Writing Persons in The Scourge of Folly, 1610-11). 
 
 Page 589, No. 579 — Golden slumbers kiss your eyes. From 
 The Pleasant Comedy of Patient Grisell, 1603, by Dekker, Chettle, 
 and Haughton. Doubtless the songs are by Dekker. 
 
 Page 589, No. 580 — Come Sleep, and with thy sweet deceiving. 
 760 
 
NOTES 
 
 From The Woman Hater, 1607, act iii, sc. 1., by Beaumont and 
 Fletcher. Mr. Bullen seems to believe that this song was written 
 by Beaumont. 
 
 Page 589, No. 581 — Care-charming Sleep, thou easer of all woes. 
 From The Tragedy of Valentinian, 1647, act v. sc. 2. Line 7, 
 Sung his pain: First folio reads Sings his pain. Coleman suggests 
 that the true reading should be either soothe or suage. William 
 Cartwright's The Seige or Love's Convert, 1651, contains an echo 
 of this beautiful invocation: 
 
 Seal up her eyes, O Sleep, but flow 
 
 Mild as her manners, to and fro; 
 
 Slide soft into her, that yet she 
 
 May receive no wound from thee. 
 
 And ye present her thoughts, O dreams, 
 
 With hushing winds and purling streams, 
 
 Whiles hovering Silence sits without. 
 
 Careful to keep disturbance out. 
 
 Then seize her. Sleep, thus her again resign: 
 
 So what was Heaven's gift we'll reckon thine. 
 
 Page 590, N9. 582 — Care-charmer Sleep, Son of the sable Night. 
 " Samuel Daniel had an eminently contemplative genius which 
 might have anticipated the sonnet as it is in Wordsworth, but 
 which the fashion of the day confined to the not wholly suitable 
 subject of Love. In the splendid Care-charmer Sleep ... he con- 
 tinued, as will be seen, to put his subject under the influence of 
 his prevailing faculty." (George Saintsbury, History of Elizabethan 
 Literature, 1887.) Bartholomew Griffin, Gent., in his Fidessa, more 
 Chaste than Kind, 1596, has a sonnet reminiscent of this and the 
 preceding numbers, which opens: 
 
 Care-charmer Sleep, sweet ease in restless misery. 
 The captive's liberty, and his freedom's song. 
 
 Balm of the bruised heart, man's chief felicity. 
 Brother of quiet death, when life is too, too long. 
 
 Page 591, No. 583 — Hark all you Ladies that do sleep. From 
 Campion and Rosseter's A Book of Airs, 1601. The fourth and 
 fifth stanzas of this poem, which are omitted in most editions out- 
 side of Campion's Works, and which were unaccountably dropped 
 from the text here, read: 
 
 All you that will hold watch with love. 
 
 The fairy-queen Proserpina 
 Will make you fairer than Dione's dove; 
 Roses red, lilies white 
 
 And the clear damask hue. 
 Shall on your cheeks alight: 
 Love will adorn you. 
 
 All you that love or loved before, 
 
 The fairy-queen Proserpina 
 Bids you increase that loving humour more: 
 They that have not fed 
 
 On delights amorous. 
 She vows that they shall lead 
 Apes in Avernus. 
 
 761 
 
NOTES 
 
 This poem was printed anonymously among the Poems of Sundrie 
 other Noblemen and Gentlemen, annexed to the surreptitious edi- 
 tion (Newman's) of Astrophel and Stella^ 1591. 
 
 Page 591, No. 584 — Sleep, angry beauty. Sleep, and fear not me. 
 From Campion's Third Book of Airs, 1617. " Exquisite in its 
 equally-balanced metrical flow." (Palgrave.) 
 
 Page 592, No. i^S — Come, Sleep; O Sleep! the certain knot of 
 peace. Sonnet xxxix. in Astrophel and Stella, 1591. This sonnet 
 is one of the three which Charles Lamb mentions as his favourites 
 among the Sidney Sonnets. Line 2, Baiting-place of wit: The 
 two editions of 1591 read erroneously bathing-place (=refreshing- 
 place) of wits (=witty men). Line 5, Shield: one man (and sleep 
 is one and is represented as single throughout lines 1-4) carries 
 one shield: hence shields of first two editions of 1591 is incor- 
 rect. (Grosart.) Line 5, Prease : press. Line 10, Deaf to noise 
 and blind to light: The first two editions read deuf of noise and 
 blind of light, which Grosart believes to be more Sidnean, consider- 
 ing the change to to as the Countess of Pembroke's or editor's 
 improvements. So also of the change of in right to by right in 
 line 12. 
 
 Page 592, No. 586 — By him lay heavy Sleep, the cousin of 
 Death. Thomas Sackville, Lord Buckhurst, born in 1536, was 
 elevated to the earldom of Dorset with the accession of James I., 
 but is generally referred to by his earlier title to avoid confusion 
 with Charles Sackville, sixth Earl of Dorset (1638-1706). He was 
 the author of Gorboduc, the first English tragedy, first acted 1562, 
 and greatly admired by Sir Philip Sidney, who describes it in his 
 Defense of Poetry as ** Full of stately speeches and well-sounding 
 phrases, climbing to the height of Seneca his style, and as full of 
 notable morality, which it doth most delightfully teach, and thereby 
 obtain the very end of poetry." 
 
 Page 593, No. 587 — The Boar's head in hand bring I. From 
 Ritson's Ancient Songs, where it is said to be from Wynkyn de 
 Worde's Christmasse Carolles, 1521. In Mr. Bullen's Carols and 
 Poems, p. 171, he prints " a modern version of the previous Carol 
 (The Boar's Head, etc.) from Dibdin's Typog. Antiq. ii. 252," 
 which I give below: 
 
 The Boar's Head Carol 
 (Sung at Queen's College, Oxford.) 
 
 The Boar's head in hand bear I, 
 Bedecked with bays and rosemary; 
 And I pray you, my masters, be merry, 
 Quot estis in convivio. 
 
 Caput apri defero 
 
 Reddens laudes domino. 
 
 The Boar's head, as I understand. 
 Is the rarest dish in all the land, 
 Which thus bedecked with a garland 
 Let us servire cantico. 
 Caput apri defero 
 Reddens laudes domino. 
 762 
 
NOTES 
 
 Our steward hath provided this, 
 In honour of the King of bliss; 
 Which on this day to be served is 
 In Reginensi atrio. 
 
 Caput apri defero 
 Reddens la^des domino. 
 
 Page 594, No. 588 — The Boar's Head that we bring here. This 
 is another of the Boar's Head carols. Mr. BuUen says that Rit- 
 son first printed it from Add. MS. 5665, the valuable folio which he 
 presented to the British Museum. 
 
 Page 596, No. 590 — Come bring with a noise. Line 12, A-teend- 
 ing : kindling. 
 
 Page 597, No. 591 — Upon my lap, my Sovereign sits. Richard 
 Rowlands entered Christ Church College, Oxford, in 1565, but 
 being a zealous Catholic he declined the essential tests, and left 
 without a degree. He removed, soon after this, to Antwerp, and 
 abandoning his English name, assumed the surname of his Dutch 
 grandfather, Verstegen. In Antwerp he set up a press; wrote 
 books, some of the cuts for which he engraved with his own hand; 
 and acted as agent for the transmission of Catholic literature and 
 letters between England, Spain, Rome, and the Netherlands. The 
 date of his birth and of his death is unknown, but he was living in 
 Antwerp in 1620. Four stanzas appeared in Martin Peerson's Pri- 
 vate Music, 1620. Most anthologies give only the first three stan- 
 zas, and in some it appears under the name of Richard Verstegen, 
 which, perhaps, is the more correct nomenclature, as it does not 
 appear that Rowlands ever returned to the use of his patronymic. 
 
 Page 602, No. 592 — Go, pretty child, and bear this ilower. Line 
 7, Handsel: earnest money. 
 
 Page 603, No. 593 — As I in hoary winter's night. Ben Jonson 
 told Drummond of Hawthornden that he would have been content 
 to destroy his own writings if he could have written this poem. 
 
 Page 606, No. 595 — Let others look for pearl and gold. Line 
 2, Tabbies: a kind of thick-threaded watered silk. 
 
 Page 607, No. S97 — Live in these conquering leaves: live all 
 the same. These lines are taken from The Flaming Heart. Of it 
 Prof. Saintsbury says {History of Elizabethan Literature, 1887) : 
 " His (Crashaw's) masterpiece, one of the most astonishing things 
 in English or any literature, comes without warning at the end 
 of The Flaming Heart. For page after page the p'oet has been 
 partly_ playing on some trifling conceit suggested by the picture 
 of Saint Theresa and a seraph . . . and always he treats his sub- 
 ject in a vein of grovelling and grotesque conceit which the boy 
 Dryden in the stage of his Elegy on Lord Hastings would have 
 disdained. And then in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, 
 without warning of any sort, the metre changes, the poet's inspira- 
 tion catches fire, and then rushes up into the heaven of poetry the 
 marvellous rocket of song: ' Live in these conquering leaves,' etc. 
 The contrast is perhaps unique as regards the colourlessness of 
 the beginning and the splendid colour of the end. But contrasts 
 
 763 
 
NOTES 
 
 like it occur all over Crashaw's work." I have preferred to begin 
 my selection from this poem at the point indicated by Prof. 
 Saintsbury instead of at the line O thou undaunted daughter of 
 desires, as do most editors. 
 
 Page 609, No. 599 — These eyes, dear Lord, once brandons of 
 desires. From Flowers of Sion, 1623. Line 1, Brandons: torches. 
 The folio and the collected edition of 1656 read tapers. Lines 5-8, 
 Prof. Schelling finds these lines permeated with subtle punning, 
 interpreting them as follows: "These locks, the gilt {i.e., the 
 golden and gilty) attire of blushing deeds; waves (of hair and 
 of the sea) curling to shadow deep (conceal in their depths) 
 wrackful shelves (shipwrecking reefs); rings (ringlets of hair), 
 which wed souls, etc., do now aspire to touch thy sacred feet." 
 
 Page 610, No. 600 — Love, thou art absolute, sole Lord. "The 
 Hymn to Saint Theresa to which The Flaming Heart is a kind 
 of appendix . . . has no passage quite up to the invocation. (See 
 note to No. 597.) But it is . . . for uniform exaltation, far the 
 best of Crashaw's poems. Yet such uniform exaltation must be 
 seldom sought in him. It is in his little bursts . . . that his 
 claim consists, often ... it has an unearthly delicacy and witchery 
 which only Blake, in a few snatches, has ever equalled; while at 
 other times the poet seems to invent, in the most casual and un- 
 thinking fashion, new metrical effects and new jewelries of diction 
 which the greatest lyric poets since — Coleridge, Shelley, Lord 
 Tennyson, and Swinburne — have rather deliberately imitated than 
 spontaneously recovered." (Saintsbury, Elizabethan Literature, 
 1887.) 
 
 " These verses (lines 29-50 of this selection) were ever pres- 
 ent to my mind whilst writing the second part of Christabel; if, 
 indeed, by some subtle process of the mind they did not suggest 
 the first thought of the whole poem." (Coleridge, Table Talk and 
 Omniana.) This poem being written before Crashaw's change of 
 faith shows the essential Catholicism of his spiritual nature. 
 
 Page 614, No. 601 — Gracious, Divine, and most Omnipotent: 
 "In 1593, the influence of the Sidney poems . . . was new and 
 the imitators . . . display a good deal of the quality of the novice. 
 The chief among them are Barnabe Barnes with his Parthenophil 
 and Parthenophe (and others). . . . Barnes is a modern discov- 
 ery, for before Dr. Grosart reprinted him in 1875, from the unique 
 original at Chatworth, for thirty subscribers only ... he was 
 practically unknown. Mr. Arber has since,_ in his English Garner, 
 opened access to a wider circle. . . . As with most of these minor 
 Elizabethan poets, Barnes is a very obscure person." (Saintsbury, 
 Elisabethan Literature, 1887.) 
 
 Page 617, No. 606 — Give ine my scallop-shell of quiet. It is 
 asserted that Raleigh wrote this poem, and that beginning, Even 
 such is Time, that takes in trust (see Note to No. 4^7) , in the 
 Tower the night before his execution. " We may, perhaps, account," 
 says Dr. Hannah {Courtly Poets, p. 221), "for the more strange and 
 startling metaphors in this striking poem, by dating it _ during 
 Raleigh's interval of suspense in 1603. after his condemnation and 
 before his reprieve, when the smart of Coke's coarse cross-examina- 
 tion had not passed away." Prof. Schelling thinks, " it would 
 
 764 
 
NOTES 
 
 be difficult to find a poem more truly representative of the age of 
 Elizabeth, with its poetical fervor, its beauty and vividness of 
 expression, its juggling with words, and its daring mixture of 
 things celestial with things mundane." (A Book of Elizabethan 
 Lyrics.) Line 1, Scallop-shell: cockle-hat. (See note to No. 629.) 
 Line 9, Palmer: a pilgrim who had returned from the Holy 
 Land, had fulfilled his vow, and brought a palm branch to be 
 deposited on the altar of the parish church. (Century Dictionary.) 
 Line 16, Milken hill: Perhaps hill of plenty, running with milk 
 and honey. (Schelling.) Line 25, Suckets: sweetmeats, delicacies. 
 Line 42, Angels: An Elizabethan pun on the popular name for the 
 angel-nobles, a coin first struck by Edward IV.; its value varies 
 from 6s. 8d. sterling to 10.y. 
 
 Page 622, No. 609 — To music bent is my retired mind. From 
 Campion's Two Books of Airs, 1613. 
 
 Page 626, No. 613 — Never weather-beaten sail more willing bent 
 to shore. From Campion's Divine and Moral Songs in Two Books 
 of Airs, circ. 1613. 
 
 Page 627, No. 615 — If I could shut the gate against my thoughts. 
 From John Daniel's Songs for the Lute, Viol, and Voice, 1606. 
 It is supposed that the author of this poem was a brother of 
 Samuel Daniel. Little is known of him except that he was one 
 of the court musicians of Charles I., and the publisher of his 
 brother's works in 1623. 
 
 Page 631, No. 619 — Yet if His Majesty our sovereign lord. 
 From Christ Church MS., and first printed in Bullen's More Lyrics 
 from Elizabethan Song-Books, 1888. It was set to music by Thomas 
 Ford. Lines 7-18. Of these lines Mr. Bullen writes: "The de- 
 tailed description made by a loyal subject for the entertainment 
 of his earthly king is singularly impressive. Few could have 
 dealt with common household objects — tables and chairs and can- 
 dles and the rest — in so dignified a spirit." It would be interest- 
 ing to compare these lines of Mr. Bullen's enthusiastic praise with 
 that other marvellously poetical description of common objects in 
 Tennyson's The Revival, in The D ay-Dream, beginning: 
 
 A touch, a kiss! the charm was snapt. 
 
 There was a sound of striking clocks, etc. 
 
 Mr. Bullen is of the opinion that Henry Vaughan, the Silurist, 
 is the author of this poem. " I know no other devotional poet 
 who could have written it," he says. But as Prof. Schelling 
 points out that Vaughan's earliest published work is dated 1650, 
 two years after the death of Ford, who died a very old man, 
 the assignation seems without probability. 
 
 Page .633, No. 62Q — Adieu! farewell earth's bliss. From Sum- 
 mer's Last Will and Testament, 1600. " The songs in Summer's 
 Last Will and Testament," says Mr. Bullen (Introduction, Lyrics 
 from Elizabethan Dramatists, p. viii), " are of a sombre turn. 
 We have, it is true, the delicious verses in praise of spring; and 
 what a pleasure it is to croon them over! But when the play was 
 produced it was sickly autumn, and the plague was stalking through 
 the land. . . . Very vividly does Nashe depict the feeling of for- 
 
 765 
 
NOTES 
 
 lorn hopelessness caused by the dolorous advent of the dreaded 
 pestilence. His address to the fading summer (Go not hence, bright 
 soul of the sad year) is no empty rhetorical appeal, but a solemn 
 supplication; and those pathetic stanzas, Adieu! farewell, earth's 
 bliss, must have had strange significance at a time when on every 
 side the death-bells were tolling." 
 
 Page 640, No. 628 — Lay a garland on my hearse. From Beau- 
 mont and Fletcher's The Maid's Tragedy, 1619. 
 
 Page 640, No, 629 — How should I your true love know. From 
 Hamlet, 1603. Dr. Furness prints the traditional music of this 
 song in his Variorum ed. of Hamlet, vol. i., p. 330. Line 3, Cockle 
 hat: hat decorated with cockle or scallop-shells, which were worn 
 by pilgrims as the badge of their vocation. (Schelling.) Line 10, 
 Larded: arrayed. 
 
 Page 641, No. 630 — As virtuous men pass mildly away. Line 
 11, Trepidation of the spheres: A motion which the Ptolemaic 
 system of astronomy ascribes to the firmament to account for cer- 
 tain phenomena, really due to the motion of the axis of the earth. 
 (Century Dictionary.) Lines 25-36, If they be two: These stanzas 
 inspired Dr. Johnson's famous passage on " the metaphysical poets," 
 a phrase which it is said he borrowed from a hint of Dry- 
 den's. Line 26, As stiff twin compasses are two: "To the com- 
 parison of a man that travels and his wife that stays at home with 
 a pair of compasses, it may be doubted whether absurdity or in- 
 genuity has better claim." (Dr. Johnson, Lives of the English 
 Poets; Cowley.) " This figure of the compass is said to have 
 been suggested by the impresa of old John Heywood, Donne's 
 maternal grandfather." (Schelling, A Book of Elizabethan Lyrics.) 
 
 Page 642, No. 631 — Victorious m,en of earth, no more. From 
 Cupid and Death, A Masque, 1653. 
 
 Page 643, No. 632 — The glories of our blood and state. From 
 The contention of Ajax and Ulysses, 1659. " Shirley's songs," 
 says Mr. Bullen {Introduction, Lyrics from, Elizabethan Dramatists, 
 p. xiv), " remind us sometimes of Fletcher, sometimes of Ben 
 Jonson. He was of an imitative turn, and followed his models 
 closely; but in his most famous song, The glories, etc., and in those 
 equally memorable stanzas {Victorious m,en, etc.), he struck an 
 original note, deep-toned and solemn." 
 
 Page 644, No. 634 — Slow, slow, fresh fount, keep time with my 
 salt tears. From Cynthia's Revels, 1601. 
 
 Page 645, No. 635 — Come away, come away, death. From 
 Twelfth Night, 1601. 
 
 Page 646, No. 636 — Weep, weep, ye woodmen, wail. From 
 Munday and Chettle's Death of Robin Hood, 1601. 
 
 Page 646, No. 637 — Call for the robin-redbreast and the wren. 
 From The White Devil, 1612. 
 
 Page 647, No. 638 — Full fathom five thy father lies. Fr_orii 
 The Tempest, 1611. 
 766 
 
NOTES 
 
 Page 647, No. 639 — Hark! now every thing is still. From The 
 Duchess of Main, 1623. 
 
 Page 650, No. 642 — Let the bird of loudest lay. " The Phoenix 
 and the Turtle first appeared, with Shakespeare's name to it, in 
 Chester's Love's Martyr: or Rosalin's Complaint, in 1601. It is 
 no doubt spurious." (Furnival: Introduction to The Leopold 
 Shakspere.) 
 
 Page 661, No. 652 — It is not growing like a tree. From Under- 
 woods, second folio, 1640. Sir Lucius Cary, better known to 
 modern readers as the gallant Lord Falkland, who fell at the battle 
 of Naseby, was married to Letice, a sister of Sir Henry Morison. 
 An early attachment appears to have grown up between these 
 young men, who were two of the poet's most cherished " adopted 
 sons." Sir Henry did not live to witness the marriage of his 
 friend with his sister, and Falkland himself perished in the thirty- 
 fourth year of his age. In some of the editions this poem is 
 entitled " A Pindaric Ode," of which it is a perfect example. The 
 first seven stanzas are omitted. 
 
 Page 663, No. 653 — The Lady Mary Villiers lies. " There seems 
 to be no record," says Mr. Vincent (Carew's Poems, Muses Li- 
 brary), "of a Lady Mary Villiers who died in infancy. Carew 
 has elegies on the Duke of Buckingham and his brother, Christo- 
 pher, the Earl of Anglesey, with both of whom he seems to have 
 been acquainted, but Mary Villiers, the daughter of the Duke, 
 was three times married, and lived to see James II. on the throne." 
 
 Page 664, No. 654 — Done to death by slanderous tongues. From 
 Much Ado About Nothing, 1599. 
 
 Page 664, No. 655 — Underneath this sable hearse. This epitaph 
 on the Countess of Pembroke — " Sidney's sister, Pembroke's 
 mother " — was first printed in Osburne's Traditional Memoirs of 
 the Reign of King James, 1658. It also appears in a MS. of the 
 middle seventeenth century, in Trinity College, Dublin, where it is 
 subscribed "William Browne;" Jonson's claim to the poem is 
 due to Whalley's supposition, and because it has generally been in- 
 cluded amongst Jonson's poems by his editors. 
 
 Page 665, No. 656 — -Would'st thou hear what man can say. 
 " The name of this lady upon whom this most exquisite epitaph 
 was written is unknown. Jonson wished it concealed, and the 
 secret seems to have been carefully kept until the means of trac- 
 ing it was lost." (Gifford.) 
 
 Page 665, No. 657 — Weep with me all you that read. Salathiel 
 Pavy acted in Cynthia's Revels, 1601, and in The Poetaster, 1601; 
 he probably died in the latter year. (Gifford.) " For sweetness 
 and simplicity," says Swinburne, " it has few if any equals among 
 his lyrical attempts." {A Study of Ben Jonson.) 
 
 Page 669. No. 662 — Cold's the wind, and wet's the rain. From 
 Dekker's The Shoemaker's Holiday, or the Gentle Craft, 1600. 
 
 Page 670, No. 664 — O faithless world! and thy more faithless 
 
 767 
 
NOTES 
 
 part. From Religuice WottoniancB; also printed in Davison's Poet- 
 ical Rhapsody, 1602. 
 
 Page 672, No. 666 — Glide soft, ye silver Hoods. From Britannia's 
 Pastorals, 1616, Bk. II., Song i., lines 242-280. This song is a 
 tribute to the memory of William Ferrar, third son of Nicholas 
 Ferrar, an eminent London merchant, who was interested in the 
 adventures of Hawkins, Drake, and Raleigh, and brother of the 
 well-known Nicholas Ferrar (1592-1637), of Little Gidding, in 
 Huntingdonshire. He died young at sea. Wither introduces him, 
 under the pastoral name of " Alexis," in The Shepherd's Hunting. 
 Line 4, Let no bird sing: Keats was evidently well acquainted 
 with Browne's poetry; witness how excellently he uses this line 
 in La Belle Dame Sans Merci. 
 
 Page 674, No. 667 — Glories, pleasures, pomps, delights and ease. 
 From The Broken Heart, 1633. 
 
 Page 674, No. 668 — Come, you whose loves are dead. From 
 The Knight of the Burning Pestle, 1613. 
 
 Page 675, No. 669 — Oh no more, no more, too late. From The 
 Broken Heart, 1633. 
 
 Page 675, No. 670 — Can we not force from widow'd Poetry. 
 For absolute sincerity of feeling — for bereavement that is more 
 religious than personal — this Elegy is, perhaps, equalled or sur- 
 passed by only two in the language — - Tennyson's In Memoriam, 
 and Whitman's When Lilacs last in the Dooryard Bloom'd. I do 
 not in the least wish to diminish the glory that haloes Shelley's 
 Adonais, Arnold's Thyrsis, or Swinburne's Ave Atque Vale, but 
 after all, is it not three-fourths art, and but one-fourth the man, 
 which keeps these things singing in men's memories? In the case 
 of Carew, Tennyson, and Whitman, the man's life whose death 
 they celebrate stands forth as the manifestation of their great 
 virtues, giving a form to art. Who the dead man was, we do not, 
 we can not forget. Whatever is of elusiveness in either Carew's, 
 Tennyson's, or Whitman's elegy, is that of human nature, — which 
 after all is something greater than art. 
 
 Donne died March 31, 1631. Carew's poem was first published 
 in the first edition of Donne's Works, 1633. Of this elegy 
 Prof. Saintsbury writes {History of Elizabethan Literature, 1887): 
 " By this last (the Elegy) the reproach of vain and amatorious 
 trifling which has been so often levelled at Carew is at once 
 thrown back and blunted. No poem shows so great an influence 
 on the masculine panegyrics with which Dryden was to enrich the 
 English of the next generation, and few are fuller of noteworthy 
 phrases. The splendid epitaph which closes it ... is only the best 
 passage, not the only good one, and it may be matched with a fine 
 and just description of English, ushered by a touch of acute criti- 
 cism {Thou shalt yield to . . . their soft melting phrases). And 
 it is the man who could write like this that Hazlitt calls an * ele- 
 gant court trifler.' " Line 4, Dough-baked: This ugly word is 
 Donne's. Cf. His Letter to the Lady Carey and Mistress Essex 
 Rich, from Amiens: 
 
 In dough-baked men some harmlessness we see. 
 
 768 
 
NOTES 
 
 Line 25, The Muses' garden, with pendantic weeds, etc.: 
 Donne's Letter to Mr. Rowland Woodward: 
 
 So affects my muse now, a chaste fallowness. 
 Since she to few, yet to too many hath shown. 
 How love-song weeds .and satiric thorns are grown 
 Where seeds of better arts were early sown. 
 
 769 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 A - FORROW, before. 
 Aggrate, please. 
 Amantium Irae, Lovers' quar- 
 rels. 
 Amate, confound, dismay. 
 AssoiLE, absolve. 
 At, as. 
 
 A - TEENDiNG, kindling. 
 Attonce, at once. 
 AuLFE, a changeling. 
 
 Bairn, a child. 
 
 Bale, woe. 
 
 Balk, a strip of ground left 
 
 unploughed. 
 Ballating, making ballads. 
 Bauzon, a badger. 
 Belappit, enveloped, enfolded. 
 Bene, are. 
 Bevv^is, bows. 
 Bin, are. 
 Birth, kind. 
 
 Blonkis, poetic word for horse. 
 BouLDEN, swollen. 
 Bowster, bolster. 
 Brandons, torches. 
 Brere, briar. 
 Busk, dress up. 
 
 Canker, worm. 
 
 Carpe Diem, Seize the oppor- 
 tunity. 
 
 Carrier, course. 
 
 Cessile, ceasing, yielding. 
 
 Champian, open country. 
 
 Chevisaunce, a wall flower. 
 
 Chough, jackdaw. 
 
 Cleped, called. 
 
 Cloggit, clogged. 
 
 Cockers, a kind of rustic high 
 shoe. 
 
 Coil, confusion or tumult. 
 
 Cointree, obs. form of Coven- 
 tree, kind of thread. 
 
 Corseris, corselet, encircling. 
 
 Coral, a toy made of coral, usu- 
 ally with the addition of bells. 
 
 CoRDiwiN, Spanish leather made 
 originally at Cordova. 
 
 CoRONEMus Nos Rosis Ante- 
 QUAM AIarcescant, Let us 
 crown ourselves with roses 
 before they wither. 
 
 Couth, could. 
 
 Cramasie, crimson cloth. 
 
 Crampis, to champ. 
 
 Crank, sprightly. 
 
 CuTTED, curt. 
 
 Dauphin, dolphin. 
 Dazie, dais, daisy. 
 Decore, decorate. 
 Deid, death. 
 DiAPRED, decorated. 
 Dichtis, make ready. 
 Dings, slaps. 
 Dois, does. 
 Doxy, a mistress. 
 Dreriment, drear. 
 DucDAME, bring him to me 
 (Hanmer). 
 
 Echone, each one. 
 Empery, absolute dominion. 
 
 Feater, neater. 
 
 Featously, neatly, adroitly. 
 
 Feidis, feeds. 
 
 Fere, companion, comrade. 
 
 Fire - drake, a fiery dragon of 
 
 mythical Germany. 
 Firth, park. 
 Flittts, cast, thrown. 
 Flos Florum, Flower of flowers. 
 FoRTUNATi NiMiuM, Only too 
 
 happy. 
 Franzy, frenzy. 
 Friekis, warriors. 
 
 771 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 Gars, causes. 
 Garth, garden. 
 Glowffin, stare. 
 GowANS, daisies. 
 Graffed, grafted. 
 Greets, great. 
 Grutch, grudge. 
 Gryde, horrified. 
 
 Hairtis, hart or red deer, hearts. 
 
 Handsel, earnest money. 
 
 Hald, hold. 
 
 Harlock, a flower not identified. 
 
 Heben, ebon. 
 
 Heill, obs. form of hele, sal- 
 vation. 
 
 HiGHT. called, named. 
 
 Hindis, female of red deer. 
 
 Hips and haws, fruit of wild 
 rose and hawthorn. 
 
 Howp, hope. 
 
 Hurchonis, hedgehogs. 
 
 Hyd, skin. 
 
 In Die Nativitatis, On the Day 
 
 of Nativity. 
 Ingenrit, born. 
 In Imagine Pertransit Homo, 
 
 Man passes into the shadow. 
 In Obitum M. S., X. Maij, 
 
 1614 - 1667, On death of M. 
 
 S., May 10, 1614-1667. 
 Integer Vitae, Blameless in life, 
 Invart, inward. 
 
 Jaspis, jasper. 
 
 Knap, to brea:k. 
 "Kirk, church. 
 
 Lady - cow, lady bug. 
 Laif, something left behind. 
 LamPis, to go quickly. 
 Lairn, learn. 
 Leese, , lose. 
 Leif, live. 
 Leir, lore. 
 Levin, lightning. 
 ' Liever, rather. 
 Lighter, lighter. 
 LicHTLiE, to make giddy. 
 Limbeck, alembic. 
 Lin, desist from. 
 LiNGEL, waxed thread. 
 Lither. supple. 
 Lives, lively. 
 LoKE, fleece of wool. 
 
 772 
 
 Low, flame. 
 
 LuBRiCAN, obs. form of lepre- 
 chaun, a pigmy sprite. 
 Lythe, light. 
 
 Maikis, mates. 
 
 Make, mate. 
 
 March - pine, usually spelled 
 marchpane, a kind of sweet 
 biscuit usually composed of 
 almonds and sugar. 
 
 Marvis, a well-known thrush 
 common in Europe. 
 
 Mazer, drinking-cup. 
 
 Melitoe, melilot (?), sweet 
 clover. 
 
 Melling, mingling. 
 
 Mene, moan. 
 
 Merle, common European black- 
 bird. 
 
 Mickle, much. 
 
 MiNiVERE, a kind of fur. 
 
 Misprision, contempt. 
 
 MiSERRiMus, Most wretched. 
 
 MoLY, a fabulous herb of magic 
 power. 
 
 Nappy, heady. 
 Neare, near. 
 
 N'OSEREZ - VOUS, MON BEL AMI, 
 
 Wilt thou not dare, my beau- 
 tiful friend. 
 Nox NocTi Indicat Scientiam, 
 Night unto night showeth 
 knowledge. 
 
 O Crudelis Amor, Oh Cruel 
 
 Love. 
 Offuskit, obscured. 
 OuER, over. 
 Ourhailit, overspread. 
 Oxter, a hug with the arms. 
 
 Paddock, toad or frog. 
 
 Pairly, mate. 
 
 Palmer, Pilgrim returning from 
 
 the Holv Land. 
 Parcae, The Three Fates. 
 Pari jugo dulcis tractus, 
 
 Sweet drawing in equal yoke. 
 Pardy, By God. 
 Paunce, obs. form of pansy. 
 Peat, pet. 
 
 Perigall, adequate, worthy. 
 Persever, persevere. 
 Preluciand, brightly shining. ; 
 Pricket, a buck in his second 
 
 year. 
 
GLOSSARY 
 
 Priefs, proof. 
 
 Pugging, thieving. 
 
 Puisne, a judge of inferior rank. 
 
 Pyght, past participle of pitch. 
 
 eUHAiR, where. 
 UHEN, when. 
 QuHiLK, which. 
 QuHOM, whom. 
 QuHY, why. 
 QuHYTE, white. 
 
 Ramage, bird-song. 
 Rascal, an inferior beast, un- 
 worthy of the chase. 
 Raunch, wrench. 
 Reistis, rest. 
 Respas, raspberry. 
 Rone, rowan. 
 Rovde, looked. 
 
 Saif, save. 
 
 Sawis, sows. 
 
 Say, a fine thin serge used in 
 the 16th century. 
 
 ScHOURis, showers. 
 
 Seely, innocent, harmless. 
 
 Seed, seldom. 
 
 Sen, same as since. 
 
 Setywall, garden valerian. 
 
 Shaid, parted. 
 
 Shalm, an instrument resem- 
 bling the clarinet. 
 
 Shawis, a thicket, a small 
 wood. 
 
 Shroudis, conceals, envelops, 
 takes shelter. 
 
 Sight, sight. 
 
 Sic Transit, Thus passes away. 
 
 Simplex Munditiis, Plain in 
 neatness. 
 
 SiTHE, season. 
 
 Skaillis, clears. 
 
 Skails, clears. 
 
 Smale, small. 
 
 Smicker, elegant, fine, gay. 
 
 SooTE, sweet. 
 
 Sops - in - wine, striped • pinks. 
 
 Speiris, spears. 
 
 Stare, starling. 
 
 Steir, stir. 
 
 Stound, blow. 
 
 Strouting, swelling. 
 
 SuAiF, suave, sweet. 
 
 SucKETS, sweetmeats. 
 
 SwAD, a country lout. 
 
 Syne, then, thereupon, therefore. 
 
 Tabbies, a kind of thick- 
 threaded watered silk. 
 
 Tead, torch. 
 
 Theorbo, a musical instrument. 
 
 Thilk, this same. 
 
 Threaves, handfuls. 
 
 Thyrse, The Bacchic wand. 
 
 Til, into. 
 
 Trental, service lasting 30 days 
 in which 30 masses were said 
 for the repose of the soul. 
 
 Trone, throne. 
 
 TuRSis, carry. 
 
 TuTTiES, nosegays. 
 
 Tyndis, the horns of a hart, ant- 
 lers. 
 
 Ubique, everywhere. 
 Uncrudded, uncurdled. 
 
 Vanitas vanitatum. Vanity of 
 
 vanities. 
 Venust, elegant, beautiful. 
 Verges, rods. 
 Ver, spring. 
 
 Via Amoris, The way of Love. 
 Vivamus Mea Lesbia, atque 
 
 Amemus, Let Us Live and 
 
 Love, My Lesbia. 
 ViVELY, brightly. 
 
 ViXI PUELLIS NUPER IdONEUS, 
 
 Not so long ago, I was ac- 
 ceptable to maids. 
 
 Waly, expressive of lamentation, 
 
 alas. 
 Wapins, weapons. 
 Wight, swift, stout. 
 Wiss, wish. 
 Won NED, dwelled. 
 
 Yconned, versed. 
 Yfere, together. 
 
 773 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 Anonymous page 
 
 The Love Call 3 
 
 On a Fair Morning 7 
 
 Song of the May 29 
 
 My Fair A-Field 29 
 
 Madrigal 45 
 
 A Lover's Question 58 
 
 Hey, Down a Down 63 
 
 Madrigal 65 
 
 In Praise of Two 67 
 
 A Double Doubting 79 
 
 Passions of Desire 80 
 
 Then Love Be Judge 83 
 
 A Miracle 84 
 
 What Poor Astronomers Are They 87 
 
 Willing Bondage 88 
 
 Presents 95 
 
 There Is a Lady Sweet and Kind 98 
 
 Since First I Saw Your Face 121 
 
 Beauty's Triumph 125 
 
 The Awakening , 127 
 
 Lusty May ! 133 
 
 When Flora Had O'erfret the Firth 133 
 
 My Heart Is High Above 141 
 
 A Conspiracy 143 
 
 Love's Keys 145 
 
 Beware of Love 151 
 
 Uncertainty 151 
 
 Whoever Thinks or Hopes of Love for Love 155 
 
 Love's Immortality 169 
 
 Devotion 177 
 
 My Lady Greensleeves 191 
 
 Madrigal 195 
 
 Hey Nonny No! 199 
 
 Love Winged My Hopes 208 
 
 Toss Not My Soul, O Love 210 
 
 Chloris in the Snow. 215 
 
 Camella 216 
 
 My Hope a Counsel 224 
 
 Faith Everlasting 225 
 
 To Her Sea-Faring Lover 233 
 
 Wounded I Am 235 
 
 Cassandra 236 
 
 Waly, Waly, Love Be Bonny 238 
 
 775 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Faithless Shepherdess 245 
 
 Madrigal 246 
 
 Disdain Me Still 252 
 
 False Love 268 
 
 'Twas I That Paid for All Things 269 
 
 A Recantation 271 
 
 No Minute Good to Love 28/ 
 
 Discreet 294 
 
 The Gift , 312 
 
 Fair Hebe 320 
 
 Zephyrus Brings the Time that Sweetly Scenteth 324 
 
 Fair Is the Rose 327 
 
 The Country's Recreations 340 . 
 
 What Pleasure Have Great Princes 347 
 
 Let Rhymes No More Disgrace 407 
 
 Pedlar!s . Song 420 
 
 Jealousy 427 
 
 Pari Jugo Dulcis Tractus 481 
 
 Self-Trial 497 
 
 Go, Nightly . Cares 503 
 
 Care for Thyself 510 
 
 Risposta 516 
 
 All Is Naught. 537 
 
 Happy He 538 
 
 Come, Sorrow, Come 565 
 
 Come, Ye Heavy Shades of Night 565 
 
 Disconsolate 568 
 
 I Saw My Lady- Weep 572 
 
 Weep You No More, Sad Fountains 573 
 
 Love Hath Eyes by Night 578 
 
 Bringing in the Boar's Head. 593 
 
 In Die Nativitatis 594 
 
 The New Jerusalem 637 
 
 The Bonny Earl of Murray 669 
 
 A. W. The identity of " A. W." has never been revealed. 
 The initials are only known as the signature to a number 
 of poems published in Davison's Poetical Rhapsody. 
 
 Heart's Hiding 98 
 
 To Time 682 
 
 Alexander, William, Earl of Stirling (1567-1640), born 
 at Menstree, Scotland. Educated at the universities of 
 Glasgow and Leyden. In 1621 James I. gave him a grant 
 of Nova Scotia, which charter has been the cause of con- 
 siderable discussion. He was the intimate friend of Drum- 
 mond of Hawthornden, who addressed him in several of 
 his sonnets in bereavement at the loss of his (Drum- 
 mond's) mistress. His first published work was the 
 Tragedie of Darius, 1603, followed in 1604 by A Paraensis 
 to the Prince, and the Monarchicke Tragedies including 
 Darius and the new Crcesus; The Alexandraean, a Tragedy, 
 1605, Julius Caesar, 1607. His most ambitious work. Dooms- 
 day, or the Great Day of the Lord's Judgment, appeared 
 1614; and the first collected edition of his works. The 
 Recreations of the Muses, 1637. 
 To Aurora 16 
 
 776 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Aurora 16 
 
 A Madrigal 137 
 
 Small Comfort Might 323 
 
 Armstrong, Thomas. Nothing is known of Armstrong except 
 that he was executed for murder in 1601 and wrote this 
 poem on the night before his death. See notes. 
 Good Night 549 
 
 Ayton, Sir Robert (1570-1638), born at the Castle of Kin- 
 aldie in parish of Cameron near St. Andrews. He was 
 knighted in August, 1602, and became ambassador to Ger- 
 many. 
 
 To His Forsaken Mistress 249 
 
 To an Inconstant One 254 
 
 Bacon, Francis, Lord Verulam. Viscount St. Albans (1561- 
 1626), born at York House in the Strand, London. Edu- 
 cated at Trinity College, Cambridge, followed by foreign 
 travel. Was knighted by James I., July, 1603; appointed 
 King's Counsel, 1604; sworn of the Privy Council, 1616, 
 and received appointment of Keeper of the Great Seal. 
 On January 4, 1618, was made Lord High Chancellor, 
 and on 11 July, the same year, ennobled Baron of 
 Verulam, and raised in 1621 to the dignity of Vis- 
 count St. Albans. Undoubtedly the greatest of modern 
 philosophers. Bacon's writings remain the monument of 
 Elizabethan prose. The most important are: Essays or 
 Counsels, Civil and Moral, 1597; The Treatise on the 
 Advancement of Learning, 1605; De Sapientia Veterum, 
 1609; Novum Organum, 1620; The De Augmentis Sci- 
 entiarum, a translation of the Advancement of Learning, 
 revised and enlarged, 1623; and the Apothegms, 1625. 
 The World 501 
 
 Barnes, Barnaby (1569-1609). The younger son of the Bishop 
 of Durham; a student at Brasenose College, Oxford, in 
 1586, which he left without taking a degree. His travels 
 abroad are said to have been extensive; and Doctor Bliss 
 states (Athen. Oxon. edit., 1815) that he accompanied the 
 Earl of Essex into France. His works which Professor 
 Dowden rated superior to Watson's are: Parthenophil and 
 Parthenope, Sonnets, Madrigals, Elegies and Odes, 1593; 
 A Divine Century of Spiritual Sonnets, 1595; Four 
 Books of Offices, Enabling Private Persons for the Special 
 Service of all Good Princes and Policies, 1606; Devil's 
 Charter, a Tragedy, 1607. 
 
 Ah, Sweet Content, Where Is Thy Mild Abode? 519 
 
 The Talent 614 
 
 Barnfield, Richard (1574-1627). Born at Norbury, in Shrop- 
 shire. He was the son of a gentleman, a student at Ox- 
 ford, and the friend of the poet Michael Drayton. He 
 published in 1594, The Affectionate Shepherd, a small 
 volume of poems dedicated to Penelope Lady Rich, the 
 Stella of Sidney's famous sonnets. In 1595 he published 
 a second A^olume, Cynthia, and in 1598 a third. Lady 
 ■ Pecunia. wherein appeared two beautiful pieces which in 
 -the following year were piratically published by Jagger in 
 
 m 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Passionate Pilgrim on whose title-page Shakespeare 
 appears as the author. At an early age Barnfield gave 
 up authorship and retired to the country. 
 
 Philomela 38 
 
 If Music and Sweet Poetry Agree 407 
 
 Beaumont, Francis (1586-1616). Descended from the ancient 
 and noble family of the name whose residence was at 
 Grace-Dieu in Leicestershire. Educated a gentleman- 
 commoner of Broadgate's Hall (now Pembroke College), 
 Oxford. He became a member of the Inner Temple after 
 leaving college, but is supposed not to have become very 
 profoundly versed in the principles of jurisprudence. 
 
 Ralph, the May-Lord 33 
 
 The Indifferent 244 
 
 The Bridal Song 357 
 
 Master Francis Beaumont's Letter to Ben Jonson 413 
 
 No Medicine to Mirth 527 
 
 A Round 564 
 
 On the Tombs in Westminster Abbey 649 
 
 Luce's Dirge 674 
 
 Beaumont, Sir John (1583-1627). An elder brother of the 
 celebrated dramatist. Entered a gentleman-commoner at 
 Broadgate's Hall (now Pembroke College), Oxford, 1596. 
 Anthony Wood ascribes to him The Crown of Thorns, 
 a poem in eight books never printed. His son gave his 
 father's writings to the world under the title of Bos- 
 worth's Field, with a taste of the Variety of Other Poems, 
 1629. 
 Of His Dear Son, Gervase 661 
 
 Best, Charles (fl. 1602), was a contributor to Francis Davi- 
 son's Poetical Rhapsody, by which connection alone his 
 name is known. To the first edition he contributed two 
 pieces, A Sonnet to the Sun, and A Sonnet to the Moon. 
 To the third edition in 1611, he contributed An Epitaph 
 on Henry Fourth, the Last French King, An Epitaph on 
 Queen Elizabeth, Union's Jewell, A Panegyrick to My 
 Sovereign Lord the King, and some few other less 
 notable poems. 
 The Moon 588 
 
 Bolton, Edmund (1575-1633), first appeared as an author in 
 1600, when he was associated with Sidney, Spenser, Raleigh, 
 and other poets as a contributor to England's Helicon. His 
 chief distinction is as historian and antiquarian. Ritson 
 describes him as a " profound scholar and eminent 
 critic," while in the opinion of Hunter he stands as an 
 antiquarian beside Camden, Selden, and Spelman. Early 
 in life Bolton formed an acquaintance with Camden, 
 and made extensive travels in England and Ireland in 
 search of antiquities. He belonged to a Catholic family. 
 
 A Canzon Pastoral in Honour of Her Majesty 163 
 
 A Palinode 542 
 
 778 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Boyd, Mark Alexander (1563-1601). Born in Galloway, 
 Scotland. Educated at Glasgow University and in France, 
 studying Civil Law at Bruges. His youth was character- 
 ized by roistering adventures, and he served some time as 
 a soldier in the service of Henry III. of France. He 
 was known as an eminent _ Greek and Latin scholar, and 
 achieved distinction as an authority in International Law. 
 Returning to Scotland after many years abroad, in 1595 
 he isecame tutor to the Earl of Cassilis and died at 
 Penkill. His chief work was entitled Epistolse, Heroides 
 et Hymni; he left besides many unpublished manuscripts 
 which are preserved in the Advocates' Library, Edin- 
 burgh. 
 Sonet 237 
 
 Breton, Nicholas (1545-1626). Born it is supposed in London. 
 His father was a successful merchant who had amassed 
 a large fortune and considerable property. It is not posi- 
 tively known that Breton was a university man, though 
 several references in his works indicate that he was in 
 attendance at Oriel College, Oxford. The facts of the 
 poet's life are very scanty, and he does not seem to have 
 associated much with the great contemporary group of 
 poets; yet it is known that he enjoyed a long and intimate 
 friendship with the Countess of Pembroke, who, being 
 an ardent Protestant, was in sympathy with the poet's 
 religious attacks against Romanism in his prose tracts. 
 Breton was a regular contributor to the poetical collec- 
 tions of his age, and his poetical fame induced an enter- 
 prising publisher, Richard Jones, to issue two miscellanies 
 under his name: Breton's Bowre of Delights, 1591, and 
 The Arbor of Amorous Devices, 1597. Beside a long list 
 of volumes of poetry he was the author of a number of 
 prose works. 
 
 Phyllida and Corydon 28 
 
 Olden Love-Making 54 
 
 A Pastoral of Phyllis and Corydon 68 
 
 Her Eyes 82 
 
 On the Excellence of His Mistress 85 
 
 Corydon's Supplication 189 
 
 A Sweet Pastoral 338 
 
 The Happy Countryman 343 
 
 A Sweet Lullaby 400 
 
 The Soul's Haven 616 
 
 Browne, William (1590-1645). Born at Tavistock, Devon- 
 shire. Educated at Oxford and the Inner Temple. Little 
 is known of his life, except that in his youth he was in- 
 timate with Ben Jonson, Drayton, and Selden. He is con- 
 sidered the chief of that group of writers belonging to the 
 "school of Spenser." He was undoubtedly the finest 
 writer of pastorals among early and middle English poets. 
 
 A Round 32 
 
 The Complete Lover 56 
 
 What Wight He Loved 60 
 
 A Welcome 138 
 
 The Great Adventure 182 
 
 779 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Fairest, When by the Rules of Palmistry 205 
 
 Song of the Siren 234 
 
 Down in a Valley, by a Forest's Side 322 
 
 The Rose 326 
 
 The Charm 442 
 
 An Epitaph 664 
 
 In Obitum M S, X. Maij, 1614 667 
 
 Let No Bird Sing 672 
 
 Campion, Thomas (1567P-1619). Educated at Cambridge and 
 Grey's Inn. His first publication was Latin Epigrams, 
 1594. Between 1601 and 1617 he published four Song 
 Books, for which he wrote, in greater part, both words 
 and music; in one, however, he collaborated with Philip 
 Rosseter. In 1602 he issued his Observations in the 
 Art of English Poesy, in which he censured the " vulgar 
 and inartificial custom of riming," making an effort in 
 this to prove that English poetry was faulty in not fol- 
 lowing the classics. This drew from Samuel Daniel a 
 response which ably refuted Campion's theory. With 
 Shakespeare and Herrick, he is, however, one of the 
 firiest lyrists of Elizabethan poetry. 
 
 Advice to a Girl 44 
 
 Cherry-Ripe 46 
 
 True Love 56 
 
 Vivamus Mea Lesbia, Atque Amemus 128 
 
 A Hymn in Praise of Neptune 131 
 
 Basia 162 
 
 Love Me or Not 175 
 
 Were My Heart as Some Men's Are 179 
 
 In Imagine Pertransit Homo 241 
 
 Think'st Thou to Seduce Me Then 247 
 
 A Renunciation 266 
 
 Shall I Come, Sweet Love, to Thee 293 
 
 There Is None, O None but You 307 
 
 Laura 318 
 
 Fortunati Nimium 342 
 
 The Charms 441 
 
 Integer Vitae 484 
 
 Change and Fate 505 
 
 Whether Men Do Laugh or Weep 535 
 
 Sic Transit 543 
 
 O Crudelis Amor 559 
 
 Now Winter Nights Enlarge 563 
 
 Hark, All You Ladies 591 
 
 Sleep, Angry Beauty, Sleep 591 
 
 To Music Bent Is' My Retired Mind 622 
 
 O Come Quickly 626 
 
 Carew^, Thomas (1598-1638), was an Oxford man who was 
 fonder of " roving after hounds and hawks " than dili- 
 gently pursuing his studies. He entered the diplomatic 
 service, and, attracting the attention of Charles I., be- 
 came cupbearer in ordinary and gentleman to the privy 
 chamber to that monarch. He was the intimate asso- 
 ciate of Suckling and Davenant. 
 The Primrose 18 
 
 7S0 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Know, Celia, Since Thou Art So Proud 65 
 
 The Unfading Beauty 125 
 
 Song 202 
 
 If the Quick Spirits in Your Eye 210 
 
 To His Inconstant Mistress 253 
 
 On the Lady Mary Villiers, 663 
 
 An Elegy upon the Death of Doctor Donne 675 
 
 Cartwright, William (1611-1643), became a writer of plays 
 while yet an undergraduate at Oxford, though a priest 
 in orders after 1638. He was one of the numerous 
 " Tribe of Ben," and his works, published posthumously, 
 contained many pages of commendatory verses by his 
 associates, among whom were Jasper Mayne, Alexander 
 Brome, and Sherburne. 
 
 To Chloe 184 
 
 On the Queen's Return from the Low Countries 194 
 
 Falsehood 255 
 
 On a Virtuous Young Gentlewoman That Died Suddenly.. 660 
 
 Chapman, George (1560-1634). Supposed to have been a 
 native of Kent, was entered at 17, Trinity College, Cam- 
 bridge, where he became distinguished for his knowl- 
 edge of Greek and Latin authors. Leaving college he 
 became intimate with Shakespeare, Spenser, and Dray- 
 ton, and other eminent poets. He is best known by 
 his translation of Homer, — the first into English. 
 
 Muses that Sing 283 
 
 Epithalamion Teratos 373 
 
 Chettle, Henry (1562P-1607?). Publisher, pamphleteer, 
 and playwright. In 1592 he edited Greene's Groats- 
 worth of Wit, which contained some slighting allusions 
 to Shakespeare, for which he apologized later in his 
 Kind-Heart's Dream. 
 
 Wily Cupid ... 150 
 
 Robin Hood's Dirge 646 
 
 Christ Church MS. 
 
 A Dialogue 93 
 
 Guests 631 
 
 Constable, Henry (1562-1613). Educated at Oxford, taking 
 his bachelor's degree at St. John's College, Cambridge. 
 In 1584, appeared his best known work, Diana, and the 
 excellent conceitful sonnets of H. C. * 
 
 Damelus' Song of His Diaphenia 116 
 
 My Lady's Presence Makes the Roses Red 204 
 
 To Saint Katherine 608 
 
 On the Death of Sir Philip Sidney 652 
 
 Corbet, Richard, Bishop of Oxford and Norwich (1582- 
 1635). Educated at Broadgate's Hall and Christ Church, 
 Oxford; was made Dean of Christ Church, 1627; Bishop 
 of Oxford, 1629, and translated to Norwich, 1632. In 
 1613 appeared his Journev into France; Certain Elegant 
 Poems, 1647; and in 1648, Poetical Stromata, or Pieces 
 in Poetry. 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 As When the Time Hath Been 337 
 
 Wishes for Vin 514 
 
 Crashaw, Richard (1613-1650). Educated at Cambridge. 
 In 1643, with five others, fellows of Peterhouse, Crashaw 
 lost his fellowship because he refused to take the oath 
 of the Solemn League and Covenant. Entering the 
 priesthood of the Roman Catholic Church, he was recom- 
 mended to Rome by Queen Henrietta. He died soon 
 after he became beneficiary of the Basilica Church of 
 Our Lady of Loreto. 
 
 Wishes to His Supposed Mistress 109 
 
 The Weeper 570 
 
 Verses from the Shepherd's Hymn 604 
 
 Upon the Book and Picture of the Seraphical Saint 
 
 Teresa 607 
 
 A Hymn to the Name and Honour of the Admirable Saint 
 
 Teresa 610 
 
 Christ Crucified 635 
 
 An Epitaph upon Husband and Wife 668 
 
 Daniel, John (P-1625), was one of the Court musicians of 
 Charles I. Little is known of him except that he was 
 the publisher of his brother's (Samuel Daniel) works 
 in 1623. He published Songs for the Lute, Viol, and 
 Voices, 1606. 
 
 Why Canst Thou Not 155 
 
 What Delight Can They Enjoy 216 
 
 If I Could Shut the Gate against My Thoughts 627 
 
 Daniel, Samuel (1562-1619), was at one time tutor to Lady 
 Anne Clifford, daughter of Margaret, Countess of Cum- 
 berland, to whom Daniel addressed his famous Epistle. 
 He was well known in his day at Court, where he was 
 a member of Queen Anne's (Queen to James I.) house- 
 hold, holding various offices, and composing Court 
 Masques which for a time rivalled those of Ben Jon- 
 son. 
 
 Beauty, Sweet Love, Is Like the Morning Dew 14 
 
 An Ode 35 
 
 Ulysses and the Siren 192 
 
 My Lady's Presence Makes the Roses Red 204 
 
 My Spotless Love Hovers with Purest Wings 205 
 
 Restore Thy Tresses 207 
 
 Thou Mayst Repent 242 
 
 Song 279 
 
 Let Others Sing of Knights and Paladines 319 
 
 I Must Not Grieve My Love, Whose Eyes Would Read.... 321 
 
 And Yet I Cannot Reprehend the Flight 324 
 
 Look, Delia, How We Esteem the Half-Blown Rose 325 
 
 Epistle to the Countess of Cumberland 503 
 
 Eidola 541 
 
 Care-Charmer Sleep, Son of the Sable Night 590 
 
 Davenant, Sir William (1606-1668), was godson of Shake- 
 speare, and poet laureate preceding Dryden. 
 
 Aubade 1 
 
 The Soldier Going to the Field 440 
 
 782 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 To a Mistress Dying 553 
 
 Praise and Prayer 628 
 
 Davies, Sir John (1569-1626), a native of Wiltshire, was 
 educated at Queen's College, Oxford, and afterward 
 studied law. In 1603, solicitor-general to Ireland, rose 
 to be attorney-general, and subsequently was appointed 
 judge of the assize. He was knighted in 1607, and was 
 made Lord Chief Justice of England in 1626, but died 
 suddenly before the installation could be performed. 
 In 1599 appeared the first edition of Nosce Teipsum: 
 This Oracle Expounded in Two Elegies. 
 
 The Dancing of the Sea 336 
 
 Man 482 
 
 Davison, Francis (1575 ?-1619). Educated at Grey's Inn; 
 eldest son of William Davison, privy councillor and sec- 
 retary of State to Queen Elizabeth, who was disgraced 
 for carrying her warrant for execution of Mary Stuart 
 to the (liouncil. Davison and his father were adherents 
 of the Earl of Essex, and with him their political for- 
 tunes were broken. In 1602 Davison abandoned law, 
 and began publishing the poetry he had written and 
 collected. His Poetical Rhapsody remains, perhaps, the 
 best collection of the period. 
 
 Madrigal 150 
 
 Dispraise of Love and Lover's Follies 152 
 
 How Can the Heart Forget Her? 214 
 
 Upon Her Protesting, That Now Having Tried His Sin- 
 cere Affection, She Loved Him 285 
 
 Ode 305 
 
 Three Epitaphs 656 
 
 Dekker, Thomas (1575-1641?), was one of the celebrated wits 
 of the reign of James I. Besides a number of plays in 
 conjunction with Webster,- Rowley, Ford, and Jonson, 
 he wrote tracts upon the vices and customs of the age. 
 The results of his quarrel with Ben Jonson are mani- 
 fest in the ill-natured caricatures of each other in their 
 plays. 
 
 May-Song 30 
 
 The Invitation 212 
 
 Here Lies the Blithe Spring 325 
 
 Country Glee 346 
 
 Song 481 
 
 Sweet Content 517 
 
 O Sorrow, Sorrow 566 
 
 Lullaby 589 
 
 Troll the Bowl 669 
 
 Devereux, Robert, Earl of Essex (1567-1601), second Earl 
 of that title, was the unfortunate favourite of Queen 
 Elizabeth. 
 
 The Ways on Earth 235 
 
 A Passion of My Lord of Essex 519 
 
 783 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Donne, John (1573-1631). Educated at both Oxford and 
 Cambridge, and at Lincoln's Inn; for some time after 
 was a traveller and man of pleasure; it is thought that 
 at one time he became a soldier, and later a member 
 of the Roman Catholic Church. Reaching middle life 
 he altered his religious convictions, took orders and be- 
 came a famous preacher, and vi^as made Dean of St. 
 Paul's, where the Court of James I. went to hear his 
 Avonderful discourses. In the performance of his art 
 Donne ruthlessly broke from the tradition of the easy- 
 flowing numbers of the Spenser school, and produced 
 what many of his contemporaries thought unscanable 
 accents. In this they were wrong, but it took the nine- 
 teenth century to discover it. 
 
 Stay, O Sweet 8 
 
 The Blossom 23 
 
 Love's Deity 166 
 
 Love's Infiniteness 173 
 
 The Message 247 
 
 Song 280 
 
 Song 288 
 
 The Dream 296 
 
 Ode 424 
 
 A Hymn to God the Father 616 
 
 Valediction, Forbidding Mourning 641 
 
 Death, Be Not Proud 644 
 
 The Funeral 648 
 
 Drayton, Michael (1563-1631). Born in Warwickshire. 
 Little is known of his parentage, but he has spoken of 
 himself as " nobly bred " and " well ally'd." Tradition 
 makes Drayton a friend of Shakespeare, and in the 
 diary of the Vicar of Stratford it is recorded, " Shakes- 
 peare, Drayton, and Ben Jonson had a merry meeting 
 and it seems drank too hard, for Shakespeare died of 
 a feaver there contracted." In 1596 he published a 
 historical poem, The Barrons' Wars, and from then on 
 to 1603 he wrote for the stage in conjunction with 
 Dekker, Webster, Middleton, and others. The play of 
 Sir John Oldcastle is said to be mainly Drayton's work. 
 In 1605 he published Poems, Lyric and Pastoral, con- 
 taining his famous Battle of Agincourt. In 1613 was 
 published his longest and most famous poem, Poly- 
 Olbion, " a Description of all the Tracts, Rivers, Moun- 
 tains, Forests, and other Parts of Great Britaine." His 
 friend, John Selden, wrote copious annotations to each 
 part of the poem. 
 
 A Roundelay 62 
 
 Bright Star of Beauty 86 
 
 Sirena . 99 
 
 The Crier 227 
 
 The Parting 271 
 
 The Ballad of Dowsabel 275 
 
 Canzonet 309 
 
 Clear Anker, on Whose Silver-Sanded Shore 321 
 
 A Summer's Day 329 
 
 The Fay's Marriage - 384 
 
 784 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 To the Virginian Voyage , 430 
 
 Agincourt 434 
 
 Nymphidia 446 
 
 Drummond, William (1585-1649). Born at Hawthornden, 
 Scotland, son of Sir John ^Drummond; educated at Uni- 
 versity of Edinburgh, and studied civil law in France. 
 He is distinguished as the first Scottish poet to write 
 well in English. Though Drummond never lived in Lon- 
 don, he was held in high and affectionate esteem by the 
 English poets; Jonson visited him in Scotland in 1619, 
 and he and others have left some mention of him as a 
 man and poet. Drummond's sonnets, Hazlitt thought as 
 perfect as any in the language. 
 
 Summons to Love 6 
 
 Phyllis 93 
 
 Cupid's Hiding-place 187 
 
 Sweet Rose, Whence Is This Hue? 328 
 
 Madrigal 511 
 
 Thrice Happy He Who by Some Shady Grove 518 
 
 Content and Resolute 531 
 
 Life, A Bubble 536 
 
 The Book of the World 539 
 
 The World, a Hunting 540 
 
 Sad Memorials — 546 
 
 I Fear Not Henceforth Death 548 
 
 To His Lute 555 
 
 Alexis, Here She Stayed, among These Pines 555 
 
 Sweet Soul, Which in the April of Thy Years 556 
 
 I Know That All beneath the Moon Decays 558 
 
 Thou Window, Once Which Served for a Sphere 558 
 
 To a Nightingale 584 
 
 To the Nightingale 585 
 
 Saint John Baptist 607 
 
 For the Magdalene _. 609 
 
 What Doth It Serve to See the Sun's Burning Face 639 
 
 No Trust in Time 682 
 
 Dyer, Sir Edward (1540-1607). Educated at Oxford, studied 
 chemistry, and was thought to be a Rosicrucian. He 
 was employed in several foreign embassies by Queen 
 Elizabeth. He wrote a number of pastorals, odes, and 
 madrigals, many of which were printed in England's 
 Helicon. 
 
 The Lowest Trees Have Tops 286 
 
 Helen's Epithalamium 383 
 
 A Fancy 485 
 
 My Mind a Kingdom 511 
 
 Edwardes, Richard (1523-1566). Educated at Corpus Christi 
 College, and Christ Church, Oxford. He is best known 
 as the designer and principal contributor to the Para- 
 dyse of Daynty Devises. He was one of the earliest 
 of English dramatic writers, his Damon and Pythias 
 being one of the first English dramas upon a classical 
 subject. 
 Amantium Irae 497 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Fanshawe, Sir Richard (1608-1666), was the youngest child 
 of Sir Henry Fanshawe, Remembrancer of the Ex- 
 chequer, and brother of Thomas, Lord Fanshawe. Edu- 
 cated at Jesus College, Cambridge, travelled on the 
 Continent, and won distinction for scholarship and knowl- 
 edge of modern languages. During the Rebellion he 
 fought in the royal army, and was taken prisoner at 
 the battle of Worcester. At the Restoration he was 
 employed in several diplomatic negotiations, and died 
 in Madrid while ambassador to Spain. 
 A Rose 327 
 
 Fletcher, Giles (158?- 1623), was a Cambridge man, brother 
 to Phineas Fletcher, and cousin to the dramatist. He 
 took orders, but on account of the lack of appreciation on 
 the part of his rural parishioners, " grief," as Fuller 
 says, " caused his early dissolution." He left one long 
 poem which showed its influence in the work of Milton. 
 Panglory's Wooing Song 301 
 
 Fletcher, John (1576-1625), was son of Dr. Richard Fletcher, 
 afterwards Bishop of London. Educated at Cambridge; 
 it is supposed his collaborator, Beaumont, enticed him into 
 authorship, with the encouragement of Jonson and Chap- 
 man. The plays of Beaumont and Fletcher succeeded 
 to the supreme popularity long enjoyed by Shakespeare, 
 and held the stage until the Restoration, and after. 
 Besides Beaumont, Fletcher collaborated with other 
 dramatists, and wrote a number of plays himself, among 
 which The Faithful Shepherdess remains the finest pas- 
 toral in the language. 
 
 Love's Emblems 31 
 
 The Beggars' Holiday 42 
 
 God Lyaeus, Ever Young 43 
 
 What Is Love? 44 
 
 Beauty Clear and Fair 124 
 
 Come Hither, You That Love 135 
 
 What the Mighty Love Has Done 143 
 
 Orpheus I Am, Come from the Deeps Below 147 
 
 The Satyr's Leave-taking 158 
 
 The Satyr and Clorin 159 
 
 Speak, Thou Fairest Fair 206 
 
 To the Blest Evanthe 211 
 
 Hymn to Venus 229 
 
 Love's Sacrifice 237 
 
 Away, Delights ! 253 
 
 Come Follow Me, Ye Country Lasses 345 
 
 Bridal Song 356 
 
 A Bridal Song 357 
 
 Orpheus 405 
 
 Let the Bells Ring, and Let the Boys Sing 418 
 
 The Wanton Shepherdess 428 
 
 A Woman Will Have Her Will 429 
 
 The Holy Well 445 
 
 Hymn to Pan 471 
 
 Urns and Odours Bring Away 567 
 
 Melancholy 567 
 
 Idle Tears 571 
 
 786 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Evening Knel! 574 
 
 Pan's Sentinel 575 
 
 Come, Sleep 589 
 
 Invocation to Sleep 590 
 
 Aspatia's Song 640 
 
 Fletcher, Phineas (1584P-1650), son of Dr. Giles Fletcher, 
 author of the sonnet sequence Licia. John Fletcher, the 
 dramatist, was his first cousin, and Giles Fletcher, the 
 younger, his brother. He is chiefly known as the 
 author of The Purple Island. 
 A Litany 617 
 
 Florid, John (1545P-1625), a native of London, descended 
 from the Florii of Sienna. He was a great student 
 of philology.' He is best known for his translation of 
 Montaigne's Essays, in 1603. 
 Concerning the Honour of Books '• . . . 539 
 
 Ford, Thomas (1586-1639), matriculated at Oxford, later 
 was admitted a member of the Middle Temple. Little 
 is known of his life. His rank as a post-Shakespearian 
 dramatist is high; among other forms of literature he 
 essayed, he won some repute as a pamphleteer of moral 
 treatises. 
 
 Dawn 1 
 
 Calantha's Dirge 674 
 
 Penthea's Dying Song 675 
 
 Gascoigne, George (1535-1577), courtier, soldier, poet, he 
 was the most notable figure in English poetry between 
 Surrey and Sidney. Gascoigne was stepfather to Nicho- 
 las Breton, whose literary career was influenced by the 
 elder poet. 
 
 A Lover's Lullaby 180 
 
 The Stately Dames of Rome Their Pearls Did Wear 196 
 
 The Strange Passion of a Lover 290 
 
 Lines Written on a Garden Seat 533 
 
 GiFFORD, Humphrey (?-?), of whom nothing is known except 
 that such a man was the author of A Posie of Gillo- 
 flowers, eche differing from the other in Colour and 
 Odour, yet all sweete, 1580. 
 For Soldiers 433 
 
 Graham, James, Marquis of Montrose (1612-1650). One 
 of the most illustrious characters in modern history, 
 murdered in the most brutal manner by his political en- 
 emies. 
 I'll Never Love Thee More 148 
 
 Greene, Robert (1560-1592), a native of Ipswich, educated 
 at St. John's College, ■ Cambridge. He travelled on the 
 Continent after leaving college, and, returning home,_ is 
 supposed to have taken orders and received the living 
 of Tollesbury in Essex. He was the boon companion _ of 
 the celebrated wits of the day, deserted a lovely wife, 
 and lived a profligate life, dying, it is said, in absolute 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 misery and poverty, from a surfeit of pickled herrings 
 
 and Rhenish wine. 
 
 Fair Is My Love for April's in Her Face 15 
 
 Radagon in Dianam 70 
 
 Philomela's Ode That She Sung in Her Arbour ,. 72 
 
 Doron's Description of Samela 97 
 
 Fawnia 120 
 
 Mullidor's Madrigal 130 
 
 Phillis and Corydon 139 
 
 Menaphone's Song 144 
 
 Doron's Jig 217 
 
 Doralicia's Ditty 282 
 
 Familia's Song 283 
 
 N'oserez Vous, Mon Bel Ami ? 299 
 
 The Shepherd's Wife's Song ■ 348 
 
 Sephestia's Song to Her Child 399 
 
 Content 517 
 
 MiserrimUs 552 
 
 Greville, Fulke, Lord Brooke (1554-1628), was son of Sir 
 Fulke Greville, of Beauchamp Court, in Warwickshire. 
 He entered Trinity College, completing his studies at 
 Oxford. He gained distinction at Court, and was 
 honoured with a seat in the Privy Council. He was 
 assassinated by one of his domestics. Attached very deeply 
 to his friend. Sir Philip Sidney, he wrote The Life of 
 the Renowned Sir Philip Sidney, 1652; and when he 
 died styled himself on his tombstone: "The Friend of 
 Sir Philip Sidney." 
 
 Myra 95 
 
 Who Grace for Zenith Had 474 
 
 A Song for Priests 520 
 
 A Contrast 541 
 
 To Cynthia 586 
 
 To Cynthia 587 
 
 Forsake Thyself, to Heaven Turn Thee 621 
 
 Grimald, Nicholas (1519-1562), educated at Cambridge and 
 Oxford, and opened a rhetorical lecture in the refectory 
 of Christ Church, Oxford. BrsMes writing original 
 verses and a Latin tragedy he m-^de translations from 
 the Greek and Latin poets. John the Baptist, his Latin 
 tragedy, was published in 1548; and his Songes were 
 annexed to the Songes and Sonnettes of Uncertain 
 Auctours, printed by Tottel in his Miscellany, 1557. 
 A True Love 167 
 
 Habington, William (1605-1654), was educated at S. Omers 
 and Paris. Returning from Paris after reaching his 
 majority, he was instructed at home by his father in 
 matters of history, and became an accomplished gentle- 
 man. " During the Commonwealth," Wood says, he "did 
 run with the times, and was not unknown to Oliver 
 the Usurper." Besides Castara, Habington wrote a play 
 and some Observations upon History. 
 
 We Saw and Woo'd Each Other's Eyes 171 
 
 To Roses in the Bosom of Castara 184 
 
 788 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Against Them Who Lay Unchastity to the Sex of Women 223 
 Nox Nocti Indicat Scientiam 580 
 
 Herbert, Lord Edward Cherbury (1583-1648), in Shrop- 
 shire, born at Montgomery Castle, in Wales, educated 
 at University College in London. He distinguished him- 
 self as a soldier on the Continent and became the Eng- 
 lish ambassador to France. He was an elder brother 
 of George Herbert. 
 
 Upon Combing Her Hair 198 
 
 Beyond 636 
 
 Herbert, George (1593-1632), educated at Cambridge, where 
 he secured in 1619 the public oratorship of the Uni- 
 versity. The influence of his family brought him into 
 notice at Court, where he was held in high favour by 
 James I. He enjoyed, also, the personal friendship of 
 Bacon and Donne. In 1630, having entered the Church, 
 he became rector of Fuggelstone. His life is said to 
 have been pure and saint-like; Isaak Walton wrote his 
 biography. 
 
 Love 129 
 
 Church Music. 410 
 
 The Pulley 483 
 
 Man's Medley 495 
 
 Virtue 540 
 
 A Dialogue 622 
 
 Discipline 624 
 
 The Collar 628 
 
 The Flower 630 
 
 Easter Song 635 
 
 Herrick, Robert (1591-1674), was the son of a goldsmith 
 in Cheapside. Educated at rSt. John's, Cambridge, he was 
 presented in 1629 with the living of Dean Prior, in 
 Devonshire. For being an ardent Royalist in 1647 he 
 was ejected from the- living, and returning to London he 
 celebrated the' event in verse. His poems for the most 
 part were published anonymously, but in 1648 he issued 
 a collection of them under the title of Hesperides. In 
 1662 he was restored to Dean Prior, where he died 
 and was buried. 
 
 To Meadows 17 
 
 The Primrose 18 
 
 To Violets 18 
 
 To Blossoms 22 
 
 Corinna's Maying 24 
 
 Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May 37 
 
 Cherry-ripe 78 
 
 To Dianeme 82 
 
 Upon Julia's Hair Filled with Dew 88 
 
 Upon Julia's Clothes 91 
 
 Delight in ' Disorder 91 
 
 To the Western Wind. 92 
 
 To Electra 157 
 
 To CEnone 157 
 
 To Anthea, Who May Command Him Anything 18S 
 
 789 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 FACE 
 
 Art Above Nature: To Julia 196 
 
 The Bracelet: To Julia 197 
 
 Upon Julia's Recovery 197 
 
 The Mad Maid's Song 209 
 
 The Funeral Rites of the Rose 329 
 
 A Child's Grace 402 
 
 To Music, to Becalm His Fever 405 
 
 To Live Merrily and to Trust to Good Verses 411 
 
 His Prayer to Ben Jonson 416 
 
 To Be Merry 528 
 
 To Daffodils 534 
 
 His Winding-Sheet 550 
 
 To Daisies, Not to Shut So Soon 573 
 
 Country Nights 577 
 
 The Night-Piece: To Julia 579 
 
 A Christmas Carol 594 
 
 Ceremonies for Christmas 596 
 
 To His Saviour, a Child: A Present by a Child 602 
 
 The New Year's Gift 606 
 
 To His Ever Loving God 615 
 
 Litany to the Holy Spirit 620 
 
 The White Island 626 
 
 To His Paternal Home 655 
 
 Upon a Child That Died 656 
 
 Another 657 
 
 Comfort to a Youth That Had Lost His Love 671 
 
 Heywood, John (1497-1575), native of North Mims, near 
 St. Alban's, educated at Oxford, became Court Jester 
 and one of the earliest dramatic writers. He was a 
 great favourite with Henry VIII. and Queen Mary, his 
 successor, on account of " mirth and quickness of his 
 conceits." Being a Roman Catholic, at Mary's death, 
 fearing persecution, he retired to Mechlin, in Brabant, 
 where he died. 
 A Praise of His Lady 105 
 
 Heywood, Thomas (157P-1650), a voluminous playwright of 
 the group that immediately followed Shakespeare of 
 whom very little is - known except that he was the author 
 in part or whole of 220 plays, of which twenty-three 
 have been preserved. His characteristic excellence was 
 in homely scenes, and he won from Charles Lamb the 
 appellation of a prose Shakespeare. 
 
 Matin-Song 2 
 
 The Message 48 
 
 London Taverns 417 
 
 Praise of Ceres 562 
 
 Howard, Henry, Earl of Surrey (1518-1546-7), was the third 
 son of Thomas, Earl of Surrey, and third Duke of Nor- 
 folk. Attended Cardinal College, now Christ Church, 
 Oxford. In 1542 he served in the army under his father 
 in Scotland, and in 1544 was appointed Field-Marshal of 
 . the English army on the Continent. On account of jeal- 
 ousy which his personal achievements excited in the Earl 
 of Hertford, King Henry's brother, and in the king also, 
 
 790 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 in 1546, he was ordered to return from the Continent, 
 made a prisoner on his arrival in England, convicted of 
 high treason on groundless charges, and beheaded on 
 Tower Hill, January 19, 1547. Surrey was the follower 
 of Wyat in introducing the Sonnet into English poetry. 
 In 1557 R. Tottel published The Songs and Sonnettes of 
 Henry, Earl of Surrey, and Others. 
 
 Description of the Spring 12 
 
 A Praise of His Love 201 
 
 Complaint of the Absence of Her Lover Being upon the Sea 230 
 
 The Means to Attain Happy Life 515 
 
 On Sardanapalus' Dishonourable Life and Miserable Death 548 
 
 Howell, Thomas (fl. 1568-1581). 
 
 Of Misery 570 
 
 Hume, Alexander (1560-1609), son of the Comptroller of 
 Scotland, was born at Reidbras, and educated some say 
 at St. Andrew's, and some at St. Mary's. Later he 
 travelled in France and on his return became attached 
 to the Court of James VI. 
 A Summer Day 331 
 
 HuNNis, William (d. 1568), was Chapel-master to Queen 
 Elizabeth. Little is known about his life. 
 The Lover Curseth the Time When First He Fell in Love 257 
 
 JoNSON, Ben (1573-1637). Born in London of poor parent- 
 age, and served as a soldier in the Netherlands. He 
 settled early in London and became an actor and writer 
 of plays, which he confessed, at one time, was not to 
 his literary liking, but compulsory in earning his liveli- 
 hood. Every Man in His Humour, his first great play, 
 was brought out in 1598, and it is claimed that Shake- 
 speare was one of the actors. He also wrote a number 
 of masques for Court festivals, in which King James and 
 his Queen took parts; through these are scattered some 
 of his finest lyrics. In 1619 Jonson went on a walking 
 tour to Scotland, visiting the home ' of his ancestors, and 
 while there he visited Drummond of Hawthornden, and 
 has left us a journal of his conversation. Besides his 
 plays and masques Jonson published two volumes of poems 
 and lyrics. Underwoods and The Forest. 
 
 The Shepherd's Holiday 40 
 
 His Supposed Mistress 57 
 
 The Kiss 66 
 
 To Celia 83 
 
 The Glove 89 
 
 Simplex Munditiis 90 
 
 Perfect Beauty 125 
 
 Vivamus 128 
 
 A Nymph's Passion 136 
 
 The Triumph of Charis 140 
 
 Song 220 
 
 Love and Death 272 
 
 On Lucy, Countess of Bedford 320 
 
 Epithalamium 374 
 
 791 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Hymn to Pan 471 
 
 An Ode to Himself 472 
 
 Epode 491 
 
 A Farewell to the World 508 
 
 The Noble Balm 513 
 
 Virtue Triumphant 528 
 
 JEglamour's Lament 559 
 
 Hymn to Diana 586 
 
 Echo's Dirge for Narcissus 644 
 
 A Part of an Ode 661 
 
 Epitaph 664 
 
 Epitaph on Elizabeth L. H 665 
 
 An Epitaph on Salathiel Pavy 665 
 
 Jordan, Thomas (1612P-1685), an actor, afterwards poet- 
 laureate for the City of London; he was the author of 
 four plays and a number of poems and masques. 
 Coronemus Nos Rosis Antequam Marcescant 521 
 
 King, Hei^ry (1591-1669). Bishop of Chichester, and friend 
 of Isaak Walton, Sandys, and Ben Jonson. He wrote 
 many elegies, notably those on Ben Jonson, Donne, and 
 Gustavus Adolphus. In 1657 appeared his Poems, 
 Elegies, Paradoxes, and Sonnets. 
 
 A Renunciation 266 
 
 The Life of Man 482 
 
 Exequy on His Wife 657 
 
 Lodge, Thomas (1556P-1625). Son of a Lord Mayor of Lon- 
 don, educated at Cambridge, and after many vicissitudes 
 gained distinction as a physician. He was, with Mar- 
 lowe and Greene, one of the pre-Shakespearian drama- 
 tists. His versatility was remarkable, producing ro- 
 mances, plays, satires, and lyrics. His prose works as 
 well as many of his lyrics show strongly the influence 
 of the Italian Renaissance. 
 
 To Phyllis, the Fair Shepherdess 41 
 
 Corydon's Song 50 
 
 The Lover's Theme 53 
 
 Rosalind's Madrigal 59 
 
 Love's Witchery 74 
 
 Love Guards the Roses of Thy Lips 79 
 
 For Pity, Pretty Eyes, Surcease 85 
 
 Rosaline 114 
 
 Phoebe's Sonnet , 164 
 
 Love Omnipresent 1 72 
 
 Do Me Right and Do Me Reason 207 
 
 The Solitary Shepherd's Song 214 
 
 Accurst Be Love 256 
 
 Montanus' Vow 314 
 
 A Madrigal 529 
 
 Whilst Youthful Sports Are Lasting 530 
 
 Lovelace, Richard (1618-1658), belonged to a Kentish fam- 
 ily. He was a soldier by choice, and one of the numer- 
 ous Court poets who surrounded Queen- Henrietta Maria. 
 - In behalf of King Charles I. he presented a petition to 
 7Q2 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Parliament from the loyalists of Kent, for which he was 
 thrown into prison, where he wrote his beautiful song, 
 To Althea from Prison. In 1647 he raised a regiment for 
 the French king and took part in the siege of Dunkirk. 
 A year later returning to England, he was once more 
 thrown into prison. In 1649^ he published a collection of 
 his poems under the title Lucasta, naming them from 
 a lady — Lucy Sacheverell. Of his last years little is 
 known, but it is supposed that distress befell him and 
 that he died in a cellar in Long Acre. 
 
 Gratiana Dancing 66 
 
 To Althea; from Prison 186 
 
 To Lucasta, Going Beyond the Seas 232 
 
 The Grasshopper 330 
 
 To Lucasta, Going to the Wars 426 
 
 Lyly, John (1553-1606) is best known as the author of 
 Euphues: The Anatomy of Wit, 1580, which was ridi- 
 culed by his contemporaries, especially Shakespeare in 
 Love's Labour's Lost, and Jonson in Every Man Out of 
 His Humour. In this work, and its sequel Euphues and 
 His Eno;land, 1581, Lyly intended to reform and purify the 
 English language. He was the author of some nine plays. 
 
 Song to Apollo 2 
 
 Spring's Welcome 11 
 
 Daphne 89 
 
 Cards and Kisses 142 
 
 Love's College 149 
 
 O Cruel Love 268 
 
 Syrinx 317 
 
 Marlowe, Christopher (1564-1593). Born in Canterbury, 
 the son of a shoemaker who managed to send him to 
 Oxford, where he took his degree in 1583. Some say 
 after leaving school he became an actor in London and 
 others that he went with Sidney to the wars in the 
 Netherlands. Tamburlaine the Great, his first great 
 drama, was performed in 1588; this was followed rapidly 
 in the next few years by three other plays. Doctor 
 Faustus, The Jew of Malta, and Edward II., which 
 made him the first great dramatist in English literature, 
 and the master whose influence is shown in Shake- 
 speare's early plaj^s. Marlowe's life was wild and reck- 
 less, and in 1593 he was killed in a tavern brawl in 
 Deptford, the particulars of which have never been 
 quite understood. He left fragments of one or two 
 plays, and parts of a fine poem. Hero and Leander, 
 which George Chapman finished. 
 
 The Passionate Shepherd to His Love 4'i 
 
 If All the Pens That Ever Poets Held 132 
 
 The Stream 335 
 
 Massinger, Philip (1584-1640), was at one time page in the 
 household of the Earl of Pembroke. His dramatic 
 labours are difficult to define owing to his habit of 
 collaboration. He was an intimate friend of Fletcher's. 
 Towards middle life he was converted to Roman Catholi- 
 
 793 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 cism. Some fifteen plays are to his credit o£ which it 
 is said he is the author. 
 The Blushing Rose and Purple Flower 328 
 
 Mayne, Jasper (1604-1672), native of Devonshire, educated 
 at Christ Church, Oxford. Became Canon of Christ 
 Church, Archdeacon of Chichester, and Chaplain-in 
 Ordinary to Charles II. His sermons have been col- 
 lected and published, and he wrote a number of contro- 
 versial tracts. He translated some of Lucian's Dialogues, 
 wrote a number of dramas and some poems. 
 Time 525 
 
 MiDDLETON, Thomas (1570P-1627), of whom little is known, 
 except that he was appointed Chronologer to the City of 
 London shortly before his death. A number of plays and 
 masques are accredited to him, and he is supposed to 
 have assisted Rowley, Massinger, Fletcher, and Jonson in 
 the writing of plays. 
 Lips and Eyes 80 
 
 MONTGOMERIE, ALEXANDER (1540 P-1610 ?). 
 
 The Night Is Near Gone 9 
 
 MuNDAY, Anthony (1553-1633), was poet-laureate of the 
 City of London. He has been identified as the " Shep' 
 herd Tony," who contributed a number of poems to 
 England's Helicon. He was concerned, also, in the 
 writing of fourteen plays. 
 
 Beauty Bathing 219 
 
 The Shepherd's Sun 220 
 
 Montana the Shepherd, His Love to Aminta 308 
 
 Robin Hood's Dirge 646 
 
 Nash, Thomas (1567-1601). Born at Lowestoft and was a 
 student at. St. John's, Cambridge, from which it is sup- 
 posed he was expelled for some youthful indiscretion. 
 After travelling in Italy he settled in London about 
 1589 and became associated with Greene, Marlowe, and 
 Peele. For certain expressions in one of his plays. 
 The Isle of Dogs, he was put in prison, which mishap 
 afforded his enemies much pleasure. As a forceful 
 pamphleteer Nash was more famous than as a dramatist. 
 He was deeply concerned in the strife of the Marpre- 
 late Controversy. He furiously assailed Dr. Gabriel 
 Harvey for insulting the memory of his dead friend 
 Greene. 
 
 Spring 11 
 
 Bright Soul of the Sad Year 562 
 
 In Time of Plague 633 
 
 Oxford Music School MS. 
 My Heart 248 
 
 Peele, George (1558-1598). Born in Devonshire, and edu- 
 cated at Broadgate's Hall (now Pembroke College), 
 Oxford. He went to London and divided the rest of 
 his life " between the tavern, the green-room, and the 
 straitened accommodations of the author's study." He 
 
 794 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 was the author of many excellent plays, one of which, 
 The -Arraignment of Paris, would be, Lamb says, the finest 
 pastoral in our literature, if it were not for Fletcher's 
 Faithful Shepherdess. 
 
 Fair and Fair 67 
 
 Love's Harvesters '. 146 
 
 The Impatient Maid 156 
 
 O Crudelis Amor 258 
 
 A Farewell to Arms 439 
 
 QUARLES, Francis (1592-1644), native of Stewards, near 
 Rumford, Essex. Educated at Christ College, Cambridge, 
 and Lincoln's Inn. Was successively cupbearer to the 
 Queen of Bohemia, Chronologer to the City of London, 
 and secretary in Ireland to Archbishop Usher. On 
 the breaking out of the Rebellion in 1641, he fled to 
 England, where writings of a royalistic flavour and his 
 attachment to Charles, attracted the wrath of Parlia- 
 ment, who sequestrated his estate and plundered his 
 books. The poet never recovered from the blow, which 
 sent him to his grave. His works, numbering many 
 volumes, are of a devotional nature. 
 
 An Ecstasy 625 
 
 Epigram 639 
 
 Raleigh, Sir Walter (1552-1618). Born in the parish of 
 East Budleigh, Devonshire; educated at Oriel College, 
 Oxford. He served five years in France with the 
 Huguenots, and subsequently in the Netherlands under 
 the Prince of Orange. In 1579, accompanying his half- 
 brother. Sir Humphrey Gilbert, he made his first ex- 
 pedition to America. Raleigh held many lucrative posts 
 of honour, the gift of royal favour. The romantic voy- 
 ages of discovery, terminating always in failure, by this 
 brave but not always scrupulous hero, still continue to 
 furnish delightful reading. He was beheaded October, 
 1618. 
 
 The Nymph's Reply 47 
 
 Now What Is Love ? 76 
 
 On Spenser's "Faerie Queene " 131 
 
 The Excuse 156 
 
 As Ye Came from the Holy Land 170 
 
 The Silent Lover 176 
 
 Silence in Love 176 
 
 Farewell to the Vanities of the World 506 
 
 Even Such Is Time 524 
 
 His Pilgrimage 617 
 
 The Soul's Errand 679 
 
 Randolph, Thomas (1605-1635), native of Badby, North- 
 amptonshire; educated at, and Fellow of, Trinity College, 
 Cambridge. He went to London and became associated 
 with the group of poets surrounding Ben Jonson, who 
 " soon drank him into an early grave." 
 
 A Devout Lover ' 177 
 
 An Ode to Master Anthony Stafford to Hasten Him into 
 the Country 350 
 
 795 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 Ravenscroft, Thomas (1592-?), an eminent composer and 
 publisher of music, who is said to have been made 
 Bachelor of Music by the University of Cambridge, at 
 the age of fifteen. 
 Three Poor Mariners 429 
 
 Reynolds, John- (?-?). 
 A Nosegay. 39 
 
 Rowlands, Richard (1565-1630?), native of London, edu- 
 cated at Oxford, and becoming a Roman Catholic took 
 up his residence at Antwerp, where he prospered as a 
 printer. He was a draughtsman and painter, and illus- 
 trated some of his own books. 
 Our Blessed Lady's Lullaby 597 
 
 Rowley, William (fl. 1650). See notes. 
 
 The Chase 286 
 
 Come Follow Me, Ye Country Lasses 345 
 
 Sackville, Thomas, Lord Buckhurst (1527-1608), was the 
 author of Gorboduc, the first English tragedy, acted in 
 1562, which was greatly admired by Sir Philip Sidney. 
 He was elevated to the earldom of Dorset with the ac- 
 cession of Tames I. 
 Sleep 592 
 
 Scott, Alexander (1520?-158?), was called "the Anacreon of 
 Ancient Scotch poetry." A collection of his pieces was 
 privately printed (100 copies) in Edinburgh, in 1821, 
 under the title of Poems from a MS. written in 1568, 
 with an Introduction and Notes by David Laing. 
 
 A Rondel of Love 168 
 
 A Bequest of His Heart 291 
 
 Shakespeare, William (1564-1616). Born at Stratford-on- 
 Avon. After receiving a scanty Grammar school educa- 
 tion he went to London to seek his fortune, leaving a 
 wife and children at home with his parents. In 1589 
 Shakespeare's name appears among sixteen in a list of 
 players and sharers in the Blackfriars Playhouse, where 
 his earliest plays, Love's Labour's Lost, Henry VI., and 
 others, were performed. Later he gained the notice and 
 friendship of the young Earl of Southampton, and to 
 him he dedicated his two poems, Venus and Adonis and 
 The Rape of Lucrece. As his several plavs were pro- 
 duced Shakespeare grew prosperous, returning to Strat- 
 ford yearly, where he purchased property, looking for- 
 ward to a time of peaceful retirement there. Nothing 
 definite is known of the order in which Shakespeare's 
 plays were written, but it is supposed that the comedies 
 and the plays from English history belong to the years 
 before 1600; while the great tragedies, Lear, Othello, 
 Hamlet, and Macbeth, were written after, as were also 
 the Roman plays. His two last plays, A Winter's Tale 
 and The Tempest, contain some of his most beautiful 
 lyrics. 
 
 796 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Hark, Hark! the Lark 3 
 
 Short Sunshine 13 
 
 When Daffodils Begin to Peer 14 
 
 The Blossom 21 
 
 Under the Greenwood Tree 36 
 
 Young Love 43 
 
 It Was a Lover and His Lass 61 
 
 Carpe Diem 64 
 
 In Tears Her Triumph 90 
 
 Rosalind 94 
 
 Sweet Robbery 96 
 
 Beauty and Rhyme 122 
 
 Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day 123 
 
 Beauty's Epitome 126 
 
 Not Mine Own Fears 154 
 
 Comfort 169 
 
 The Full Love Is Hushed 174 
 
 The Love-Letter 175 
 
 Being Your Slave 178 
 
 Love's Casuistry 179 
 
 Silvia 183 
 
 Sigh No More, Ladies 228 
 
 Time and Love 229 
 
 Then Hate Me When Thou Wilt 252 
 
 The Recall of Love 270 
 
 Take, O Take Those Lips Away 270 
 
 Sweet Love, Renew Thy Force 281 
 
 Did Not the Heavenly Rhetoric of Thine Eye 288 
 
 Since Brass, Nor Stone , 315 
 
 Love Unalterable 316 
 
 Where the Bee Sucks 335 
 
 A Bridal Song 357 
 
 When That I Was and a Little Tiny Boy 402 
 
 Music to Hear, Why Hear'st Thou Music Sadly? 404 
 
 Orpheus 405 
 
 Come Buy, Come Buy 421 
 
 Come to the Pedlar 421 
 
 Constancy 422 
 
 Absence 423 
 
 How Like a Winter Hath My Absence Been 424 
 
 The Fairy Life 441 
 
 Cuckoo 442 
 
 The Ousel-Cock, So Black of Hue 443 
 
 You Spotted Snakes 444 
 
 Crabbed Age and Youth 523 
 
 The Merry Heart 526 
 
 They That Have Power to Hurt and Will Do None 531 
 
 The Expense of Spirit in a Waste of Shame 532 
 
 Poor Soul, the Centre of My Sinful Earth 537 
 
 Amiens' Song 544 
 
 Embers 545 
 
 Fidele 545 
 
 If Thou Survive 547 
 
 Thy Bosom Is Endeared with All Hearts... 553 
 
 When to the Sessions of Sweet Silent Thought 554 
 
 Forget 556 
 
 Her Autumn •.•••. 560 
 
 797 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 To Me, Fair Friend, You Never Can Be Old 561 
 
 Winter 563 
 
 Urns and Odours Bring Away 567 
 
 Song of Woe 576 
 
 Now the Hungry Lion Roars 584 
 
 Ophelia's Song 640 
 
 A Lover's Dirge 645 
 
 A Sea Dirge 647 
 
 The Phoenix and the Turtle 650 
 
 Hero's Epitaph 664 
 
 Shirley, James (1596-1666), was the last of the great group 
 of dramatists who immediately followed Shakespeare. 
 Intended for the Church, he became a Roman Catholic, 
 and earned his living as a schoolmaster. In 1625 he 
 wrote a comedy, Love Tricks, which encouraged him 
 to go to London where he produced nearly thirty plays 
 before the closing of the theatres in 1642. 
 
 Piping Peace 213 
 
 O Fly, My. Soul 536 
 
 Death's Emissaries ; 642 
 
 Death the Leveller 643 
 
 Sidney, Sir Philip (1554-1586). Born at Penshurst, in Kent, 
 of an ancient family. Educated at Shrewsbury and Ox- 
 ford, he travelled abroad, witnessing the Massacre of 
 St. Bartholomew's, after which he visited Germany and 
 Italy, and was back at the English Court in 1575. His 
 hopeless passion for Lady Penelope Devereux, daughter 
 of the Earl of Essex, who afterwards married Lord Rich, 
 was the inspiration of Astro'phel and Stella, a series of 
 sonnets and songs in which Sidney expresses his grief. 
 Out of favour at Court in 1580 because of his letter 
 in opposition to Queen Elizabeth's proposed marriage 
 to the French Duke of Anjou, Sidney retired to Wilton, 
 the seat of his sister, the Countess of Pembroke, where 
 he wrote for diversion his famous prose romance, Ar- 
 cadia. The following year he composed his fine Apology 
 for Poetrie in opposition to Stephen Gosson. When 
 Queen Elizabeth sent English troops to help the Dutch 
 in their struggle for freedom, Sidney, who was then the 
 Governor of Flushing, participated, and owing to his 
 reckless and chivalrous bravery, fell fighting at Zutphen 
 in September, 1586. Sidney's writings were not pub- 
 lished until after his death, and he remains the most 
 conspicuous figure of chivalry among English personali- 
 ties. 
 
 A Ditty 51 
 
 Wooing Stuff 52 
 
 The Nightingale 73 
 
 Song 81 
 
 Promised Weal 94 
 
 Via Amoris 147 
 
 Song 161 
 
 A Dirge: Love Is Dead 272 
 
 Song 294 
 
 Song 298 
 
 798 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Loving in Truth, and Fain in Verse My Love to Show 313 
 
 Stella, Think Not 316 
 
 Epithalamium 353 
 
 Phoebus, Farewell ! 422 
 
 Be Your Words Made, Good Sir, of Indian Ware 425 
 
 O Sweet Woods 499 
 
 Truth Doth Truth Deserve 520 
 
 Song 582 
 
 The Moon 587 
 
 To Sleep 592 
 
 Southwell, Robert (1562-1595). An English Jesuit; in 
 1585 he was appointed Prefect of the English Jesuits' 
 College in Rome; was subsequently returned to Eng- 
 land as a missionary, where after three years imprison- 
 ment he suffered as a martyr at Tyburn, February, 1595. 
 He wrote much in prose and verse of a high order. 
 
 Scorn Not the Least 496 
 
 Man's Civil War 500 
 
 Times Go by Turns 523 
 
 Loss in Delay 532 
 
 The Burning Babe 603 
 
 Spenser, Edmund (1553-1598). Born in London, and edu- 
 cated at Pembroke Hall, Oxford. In 1580, he became, 
 through the influence of Sir Philip Sidney, Secretary 
 to Lord Grey of Wilton, Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland; 
 and in 1586, received from the Crown a grant, includ- 
 ing the castle and manor of Kilcolman, in the county of 
 Cork, forfeited by the Earl of Desmond. He married 
 in 1594, Elizabeth Boyle, of whom he had sung in the 
 Sonnets, and their nuptials he celebrated in the wonder- 
 ful Epithalamium. In 1590 appeared the first three 
 Books of the Faerie Queene, and in 1596, Books IV., V., 
 VI. In 1598 occurred what is called the " rebellion of 
 the Earl of Tyrone," which forced Spenser with his wife 
 and children to leave Ireland, for his estates were 
 plundered and burned, to seek his native country, where 
 he died in " extreme indigence and want of bread." 
 
 Whilst It Is Prime 12 
 
 Perigot and Willie's Roundelay 19 
 
 The Merry Month of May 30 
 
 What Guile Is This? 88 
 
 Fair Is My Love 107 
 
 A Ditty 108 
 
 Mark When She Smiles 123 
 
 The Doubt Which Ye Misdeem 146 
 
 So Oft as I Her Beauty Do Behold 199 
 
 The Merry Cuckoo, Messenger of Spring 317 
 
 To His Book 318 
 
 Rudely Thou Wrongest My Dear Heart's Desire 322 
 
 Epithalamium 358 
 
 Prothalamion 377 
 
 The Bower of Bliss 407 
 
 One Day I Wrote Her Name upon the Strand 557 
 
 Like as the Culver on the Bared Bough 560 
 
 Most Glorious Lord of Life. That on This Day 634 
 
 From " Daphnaida " 653 
 
 799 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 Still, John, Bishop of Bath and Wells (1543-1608). Born 
 at Grantham, Lincolnshire; educated at Christ College, 
 Cambridge, where he became Lady Margaret's Professor 
 of Divinity. He was Prebendary of Westminster, 1573; 
 Master of St. John's College, 1574; Archdeacon of 
 Sudbury, 1596; Bishop of Bath and Wells, 1592. To 
 Still is ascribed the atithorship of Gammer Gurton's 
 Needle, 1565, the third English comedy. 
 Jolly Good Ale and Old 419 
 
 Strode, William (1598?-1644). 
 
 Music 403 
 
 Suckling, Sir John (1609-1642). Born at Whitton, Middle- 
 sex; educated at Trinity College, Cambridge. In 1631, 
 he joined the army of Gustavus Adolphus; and in 1639 
 raised an army of an hundred horse, leading them in 
 battle between the Scotch and royal army. His life was 
 one of wild and reckless dissipation. A loyalist, he was 
 accused of scheming to save Strafford's life, and fleeing 
 from England, he put an end to his disordered life in 
 Paris. 
 
 When, Dearest, I But Think of Thee 218 
 
 A Doubt of Martyrdom 225 
 
 The Constant Lover 227 
 
 Why So Pale and Wan? 281 
 
 A Ballad upon a Wedding ,. • . • 395 
 
 Love and Debt 426 
 
 Sylvester, Joshua (1563-1618). An eminent linguist, who be- 
 came a member of the Company of Merchant Adventurers 
 at Stade. It is as the translater of Du Bartas' poems 
 he is best known. 
 Ubique 117 
 
 Tichborne, Chidiock (d. 1586). 
 
 Chidiock Tichborne's Lament 549 
 
 ToFTE, Robert (d. 1620). 
 
 On Quicksedge, Wrought with Lovely Eglantine 204 
 
 Turberville, George (1530?-1600>. Born at Whitechurch, 
 Devonshire, and educated at New College, Oxford. He 
 accompanied Sir Thomas Randolph to Russia as secre- 
 tary; his three poetical epistles concerning this country 
 are incorporated in Hakluyt's Voyages. He left a rnis- 
 cellaneous number of writings, and a MS. translation 
 of Tasso's Jerusalem Delivered, now in the Bodleian 
 Library. 
 To a Gentlewoman 310 
 
 Vautor, Thomas (?-1619). 
 
 Sweet Suffolk Owl 578 
 
 Vaux, Thomas, Lord (b. 1510), was son of Lord Nicholas 
 Vaux, and attended Cardinal Woolsey in his embassy 
 to the Emperor Charles V., in 1527; he took his place as 
 
 8oo 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 member of Parliament, as a Baron, 1530; accompanied 
 Henry VIII. to Calais and Boulogne, 1532; made knight 
 of Bath, 1533. A number of Lord Vaux's poems were 
 published in Tottel's Miscellany. 
 Questions and Answers 527 
 
 Verb, Edward, Earl of Oxford (1545P-1604), was famous for 
 his prodigality of living. He was the author of .some 
 comedies not extant, and several poems which appeared 
 in most of the collections of the time. 
 
 If Women Could Be Fair and Yet Not Fond 153 
 
 Fancy and Desire 188 
 
 Waller, Edmund (1606-1687). Born at Coleshill, Hertford- 
 shire, and educated at Eton and King's College, Cam- 
 bridge. He served in Parliament under James I. and 
 II. In 1643 was detected in a plot to re-establish fhe 
 authority of Charles I., for which he was imprisoned and 
 fined £10,000; his life being saved only by abject 
 submission and the betrayal of his friends, and exile 
 from home. In 1653, he was permitted to return to 
 England and became a great favourite with Cromwell. 
 His poems, rated at a time much above their worth, are 
 brief and occasional. 
 
 On a Girdle.... 92 
 
 Go, Lovely Rose 203 
 
 Old Age 526 
 
 Watson, Thomas (1557-1592?), native of London; spent 
 some time at the University of Oxford, afterwards study- 
 ing law. He published a number of Latin poems and 
 translations. He is best known by The EKATOMIIAO- 
 PIA, or Passionate Century of Love. 
 
 Passions 200 
 
 Resolved to Dust 274 
 
 I Saw the Object of My Pining Thought 284 
 
 Webster, John (P-1630), one of the greatest of English 
 dramatists, and a member of the Merchant Taylors' 
 Company. 
 
 Vanitas Vanitatum 534 
 
 A Land Dirge 646 
 
 The Shrouding of the Duchess of Malfi 647 
 
 Wever, Robert (P-1550). 
 
 In Youth Is Pleasure 134 
 
 Wisdome, Robert (d. 1568). See notes. 
 
 A Religious Use of Taking Tobacco 547 
 
 Wither, George (1588-1667). Born at Brentworth, Hamp- 
 shire; educated at Magdalene College, Oxford, subse- 
 quently entering himself first at one of the Inns of Chan- 
 cery, and afterwards at Lincoln's Inn. In 1639, served as 
 Captain of Horse in the expedition of Charles I. against 
 the Scotch Covenanters; in 1642, sold his estate and 
 
 8oi 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 raised a troop of horse for Parliament, in whose army 
 he was elevated to the rank of major; was made pris- 
 oner by the royalists and owed his release to interces- 
 sion of Sir John Denham. Parliament and Cromwell 
 conferred lucrative offices upon him, which, after the 
 Restoration, he was obliged to relinquish. He was a volu- 
 minous writer; and one of the best of old English poets 
 exhume.d by modern literary antiquaries. 
 
 Flos Florum 117 
 
 I Loved a Lass 250 
 
 The Scorner Scorned 260 
 
 Hence Away, You Sirens 261 
 
 The Widow 667 
 
 WoTTON, Sir Henry (1568-1639), belonged to an ancient 
 Kentish family. After leaving Oxford he travelled for 
 eight or nine years in France, Germany, and Italy, and 
 on his return to England became secretary to the Earl of 
 Essex. Wotton returned to Florence when Essex's polit- 
 ical fortunes were broken, and was sent by the Grand 
 Duke on a secret mission to James VI. of Scotland. 
 When James became King of England he was taken into 
 favour and thrice sent as ambassador to Venice, and also 
 to some of the German States. Wotton's services in be- 
 half of James's daughter, the unfortunate Queen of 
 Bohemia, to whom he was affectionately attached, and 
 whom he celebrated in the best of his poems, has become 
 a noble episode in his career. Returning to England 
 from his embassies, he was made Provost of Eton, which 
 post he retained till his death. In 1651 a small collec- 
 tion of fourteen poems was published under the title of 
 Reliquiae Wottonianse. Izaak Walton wrote his biography. 
 
 On a Bank as I Sat A-Fishing 27 
 
 Elizabeth of Bohemia 104 
 
 The Character of a Happy Life 515 
 
 Upon the Death of Sir Albertus Morton's Wife 666 
 
 An Elegy of a Woman's Heart 670 
 
 Wyat, Sir Thomas (1503-1542). Born at Allington Castle, 
 Kent; educated at St. John's College. He ofificiated for 
 his father as ewerer at the coronation of Anne Boleyn, 
 in 1533, and subsequently was in temporary disgrace with 
 the king on her account. He was nominated for High 
 Sheriff for Kent, 1537, and in the same year sent as 
 minister to Spain. Bonner charged him with treason- 
 able correspondence with Cardinal Pole and he was 
 placed under arrest in 1540-1. but was acquitted and 
 restored to high favour with Henry VIII. 
 
 Mv Lady's Hand 11 
 
 Brunet and Phyllis 212 
 
 The Lover's Appeal 240 
 
 A Supplication 242 
 
 Vixi Puellis Nuper Idoneus 243 
 
 To His Lute 258 
 
 A Revocation 265 
 
 Yea or Nay 284 
 
 The One I Would Love 307 
 
 802 
 
INDEX TO TITLES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Absence 423 
 
 Accurst Be Love 256 
 
 Advice to a Girl 44 
 
 /Eglamour's Lament 559 
 
 Against Them Who Lay 
 Unchastity to the Sex of 
 
 Women 223 
 
 Agincourt 434 
 
 Ah, Sweet Content, etc... 519 
 
 Alexis, Here She Stayed. . 555 
 
 All is Naught. 537 
 
 Amantium Irae 497 
 
 Amiens' Song 544 
 
 And Yet I Cannot Repre- 
 hend the Flight 324 
 
 An Ode to Master Anthony 
 
 Stafford, etc 350 
 
 Another (epitaph) 657 
 
 Art above Nature: To 
 
 Julia 196 
 
 Aspatia's Song 640 
 
 As When the Time Hath 
 
 Been 337 
 
 As Ye Came from the 
 
 Holy Land 170 
 
 Aubade .' 1 
 
 Aurora 16 
 
 Awakening, The 127 
 
 Away, Delights ! 253 
 
 Ballad of Dowsabel 275 
 
 Ballad Upon a Wedding, A 395 
 
 Basia 162 
 
 Beauty, Sweet Love, Is 
 
 Like the Morning Dew.. 14 
 
 Beauty and Rhyme 122 
 
 Beauty Clear and Fair.... 124 
 
 Beauty's Triumph 125 
 
 Beauty's Epitome 126 
 
 Beauty Bathing 219 
 
 Beggar's Holiday, The.... 42 
 
 Being Your Slave 178 
 
 Bequest of His Heart, A.. 291 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Beware of Love 151 
 
 Beyond 636 
 
 Be Your Words Made, 
 
 Good Sir, of Indian 
 
 Ware 425 
 
 Blossom, The 21 
 
 Blossom, The 23 
 
 Blushing Rose and Purple 
 
 Flower, The 328 
 
 Bonny Earl of Murray, 
 
 The 669 
 
 Book of the World, The.. 539 
 
 Bower of Bliss, The 407 
 
 Bracelet (The): To Julia. 197 
 
 Bridal Song, A 357 
 
 Bridal Song 356 
 
 Bridal Song, The..' 357 
 
 Bright Soul of the Sad 
 
 Year 562 
 
 Bright Star of Beauty 86 
 
 Bringing in the Boar's 
 
 Head 593 
 
 Brunet and Phyllis 212 
 
 Burning Babe, The 603 
 
 Calantha's Dirge 674 
 
 Camella 216 
 
 Canzonet 309 
 
 Canzon Pastoral in Hon- 
 our of Her Majesty, A 163 
 
 Cards and Kisses 142 
 
 Care-charmer, Sleep 590 
 
 Care for Thyself 510 
 
 Carol, A Christmas 594 
 
 Carols (Christmas) 593 
 
 Carpe Diem 64 
 
 Cassandra 236 
 
 Ceremonies for Christmas. 596 
 
 Change and Fate 505 
 
 Character of a Happy Life, 
 
 The 515 
 
 Charms 441 
 
 Charm, The 442 
 
 803 
 
INDEX TO 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Chase, The 286 
 
 Cherry-ripe (Herrick) 78 
 
 Cherry-ripe (Campion) 46 
 
 Chidiock Tichborne's La- 
 ment 549 
 
 Child's Grace, A 402 
 
 Chloris in the Snow 215 
 
 Christ Crucified 635 
 
 Christmas poems 593-606 
 
 Church Music 410 
 
 Clear Anker, on whose 
 
 Silver Sanded Shore.... 321 
 
 Collar, The 628 
 
 Come Buy, Come Buy 421 
 
 Come Follow Me, Ye Coun- 
 try Lasses 345 
 
 Come Hither, You that 
 
 Love 135 
 
 Come to the Pedlar 421 
 
 Come, Sleep 589 
 
 Come, Sorrow, Come 565 
 
 Come, Ye Heavy States 
 
 of Night 565 
 
 Comfort 169 
 
 Comfort to a Youth that 
 
 Had Lost His Love 671 
 
 Complaint of the Absence 
 of Her Lover Being 
 
 upon the Sea 230 
 
 Complete Lover, The 56 
 
 Concerning the Honour of 
 
 Books 539 
 
 Conspiracy, A 143 
 
 Constancy 422 
 
 Constant Lover, The 227 
 
 Content and Resolute 531 
 
 Content 517 
 
 Contrast, A 541 
 
 Corinna's Maying 24 
 
 Coronemus Nos Rosis, etc.. 521 
 
 Corydon's Song 50 
 
 Corydon's Supplication.... 189 
 
 Country Glee 346 
 
 Country Nights 577 
 
 Country's Recreations, The 340 
 
 Crabbed Age and Youth.. 523 
 
 Crier, The 227 
 
 Cuckoo 442 
 
 Cupid's Hiding-place 187 
 
 Damelus' Song of His Dia- 
 
 phenia 116 
 
 Dancing of the Sea, The.. 336 
 
 Daphnaida 653 
 
 Daphne 89 
 
 Dawn 1 
 
 Death, Be Not Proud 644 
 
 804 
 
 TITLES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Death's Emissaries 642 
 
 Death the Leveller 643 
 
 Delight in Disorder 91 
 
 Description of the Spring. . 12 
 
 Devotion 177 
 
 Devout Lover, A 177 
 
 Dialogue, A (old MS.)... 93 
 
 Dialogue, A (Herbert) 622 
 
 Did Not the Heavenly 
 
 Rhetoric of Thine Eye., 288 
 
 Dirge (A): Love Is Dead 272 
 
 Discipline 624 
 
 Disconsolate 568 
 
 Discreet 294 
 
 Disdain Me Still 252 
 
 Dispraise of Love and 
 
 Lovers' Follies 152 
 
 Ditty, A (Spenser) 108 
 
 Ditty, A (Sidney) 51 
 
 Do Me Right and Do Me 
 
 Reason 207 
 
 Doralicia's Ditty 282 
 
 Doron's Description of 
 
 Samela 97 
 
 Doron's Jig 217 
 
 Double Doubting, A 79 
 
 Doubt of Martyrdom, A.. 225 
 Doubt Which Ye Misdeem, 
 
 The 146 
 
 Down in a Valley, by a 
 
 Forest's Side 322 
 
 Dream, The 296 
 
 Easter Song 635 
 
 Echo's Dirge for Narcissus 644 
 
 Ecstasy, An 625 
 
 Eidola 541 
 
 Elegy of a Woman's 
 
 Heart, An 670 
 
 Elegy upon the Death of 
 
 Doctor Donne, An 675 
 
 Elizabeth of Bohemia 104 
 
 Embers 545 
 
 Epigram: Respice Finem.. 639 
 Epistle to the Countess of 
 
 Cumberland 503 
 
 Epitaph (on Countess Dow- 
 ager of Pembroke) 664 
 
 Epitaph on Elizabeth L. H. 665 
 Epitaph on Husband and 
 
 Wife, An 668 
 
 Epitaph on Salathiel Pavy, 
 
 An 665 
 
 Epitaphs 656-669 
 
 Epithalamium (Jonson) . . . 374 
 
 Epjthalamium (Sidney) . . . 353 
 
 Epithalamium (Spenser) ... 358 
 
INDEX TO TITLES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Epithalamion Teratos 373 
 
 Epode 491 
 
 Evening Knell, The 574 
 
 Even Such Is Time 524 
 
 Excuse, The 156 
 
 Exequy on His Wife 657 
 
 Expense of Spirit in a 
 
 Waste of Shame, The... 532 
 
 Fair and Fair 67 
 
 Fairest, When by the Rules 
 
 of Palmistry 205 
 
 Fair Hebe 320 
 
 Fair Is My Love 107 
 
 Fair Is My Love, for 
 
 April's in Her Face 15 
 
 Fair Is the Rose 327 
 
 Fairy Life, The 441 
 
 Faith Everlasting 225 
 
 Faithless Shepherdess, The 245 
 
 Falsehood 255 
 
 False Love 268 
 
 Familia's Song 283 
 
 Fancy and Desire 188 
 
 Fancy, A 485 
 
 Farewell to Arms, A 439 
 
 Farewell to the Vanities, A 506 
 
 Farewell to the World, A. 508 
 
 Fawnia . 120 
 
 Fay's Marriage (The) 384 
 
 Fidele 545 
 
 First Song 161 
 
 Flos Florum 117 
 
 Flower, The 630 
 
 Forget 556 
 
 For Pity, Pretty Eyes 85 
 
 Forsake Thyself, to Heaven 
 
 Turn Thee 621 
 
 For Soldiers 433 
 
 For the Magdalene 609 
 
 Fortunati Nimium 342 
 
 From Daphnaida. 653 
 
 Full Love Is Hushed, The 174 
 Funeral Rites of the Rose, 
 
 The 329 
 
 Funeral, The 648 
 
 Gather Ye Rosebuds While 
 
 Ye May 37 
 
 Gift, The 312 
 
 Glove, The 89 
 
 God Lyaeus, Ever Young. . 43 
 
 Go, Lovely Rose 203 
 
 Go, Nightly Cares 503 
 
 Good Night 549 
 
 Grasshopper, The 330 
 
 Gratiana Dancing 66 
 
 Great Adventure, The. 
 Guests 
 
 PAGE 
 182 
 
 631 
 
 Happy Countryman, The. . 343 
 
 Happy He 538 
 
 Hark, All You Ladies 591 
 
 Hark, Hark! The Lark... 3 
 
 Heart's Hiding 98 
 
 Helen's Epithalamium 383 
 
 Hence Away, You Sirens.. 261 
 
 Her Autumn 560 
 
 Here Lies the Blithe 
 
 Spring 325 
 
 Her Eyes. 82 
 
 Hero's Epitaph 664 
 
 Hey, Down a Down 63 
 
 Hey Nonny No ! 199 
 
 His Pilgrimage 617 
 
 His Prayer to Ben Jonson 416 
 
 His Supposed Mistress.... 57 
 
 His Winding-sheet 550 
 
 Holy Well, The 445 
 
 How Can the Heart For- 
 get Her 214 
 
 How Like a Winter Hath 
 
 My Absence Been 424 
 
 Hymn (A) to the Name, 
 
 etc., of Saint Theresa.. 610 
 Hymn in Praise of Nep- 
 tune, A 131 
 
 Hymn to Diana 586 
 
 Hymn to God the Father, 
 
 A 616 
 
 Hymn to Pan (bis) 471 
 
 Hymn to Venus 229 
 
 Idle Tears 571 
 
 If All the Pens that Ever 
 
 Poets Held 132 
 
 I Fear Not Henceforth 
 
 Death 548 
 
 If I Could Shut the Gate 
 
 Against My Thoughts... 627 
 If Music and Sweet Poetry 
 
 Agree 407 
 
 If the Quick Spirits in 
 
 Your Eye 210 
 
 If Thou Survive 547 
 
 If Women Could Be Fair 
 
 and Yet Not Fond 153 
 
 I Know that All Beneath 
 
 the Moon .. 558 
 
 I'll Never Love Thee More 148 
 
 I Loved a Lass 250 
 
 I Must Not Grieve My 
 
 Love 321 
 
 Impatient Maid, The 156 
 
 805 
 
INDEX TO TITLES 
 
 In Die Nativitatis 
 
 Indifferent, The 
 
 In Imagine Pertransit 
 
 Homo 
 
 In Obitum M. S., X 
 
 In Praise of Two 
 
 In Tears Her Triumph. . . . 
 
 Integer Vitse 
 
 In Time of Plague 
 
 Invitation, The 
 
 Invocation to Sleep 
 
 In Youth Is Pleasure 
 
 I Saw My Lady Weep .... 
 I Saw the Object of My 
 
 Pining 
 
 It Was a Lover and His 
 
 PAGE 
 
 594 
 244 
 
 241 
 667 
 67 
 90 
 484 
 633 
 212 
 590 
 134 
 572 
 
 284 
 
 61 
 
 Jealousy 427 
 
 Jolly Good Ale and Old... 419 
 
 Know, Celia, Since Thou 
 
 Art So Proud 65 
 
 Kiss, The 66 
 
 Land Dirge, A 646 
 
 Laura 318 
 
 Let No Bird Sing 672 
 
 Let Others Sing of Knights 
 
 and Paladines 319 
 
 Let Rhymes No More Dis- 
 grace 407 
 
 Let the Bells Ring, and Let 
 
 the Boys Sing 418 
 
 Life, a Bubble 536 
 
 Life of Man, The 482 
 
 Like as the Culver on the 
 
 Bared Bough 560 
 
 Lines Written on a Garden 
 
 Seat 533 
 
 Lips and Eyes 80 
 
 Litany, A 617 
 
 Litany to the Holy Spirit. 620 
 
 London Taverns 417 
 
 Look, Delia, How We Es- 
 teem, etc 325 
 
 Loss in Delay 532 
 
 Love 129 
 
 Love and Death 272 
 
 Love Call, The 3 
 
 Love Guards the Roses of 
 
 Thy Lips 79 
 
 Love and Debt 426 
 
 Love Hath Eyes by Night. 578 
 
 Love-Letter, The 175 
 
 Love Me or Not 175 
 
 8o6 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Love Omnipresent 172 
 
 Love Unalterable 316 
 
 Love Winged My Hopes.. 208 
 
 Lover's Appeal, The 240 
 
 Lover's Dirge, A 645 
 
 Lover's Infiniteness 173 
 
 Lover's Lullaby, A 180 
 
 Lover's Question, A 58 
 
 Lover's Theme, The 53 
 
 Lover (The) Curseth the 
 Time When First He 
 
 Fell in Love 257 
 
 Love's Casuistry 179 
 
 Love's College 149 
 
 Love's Deity 166 
 
 Love's Emblems 31 
 
 Love's Harvesters 146 
 
 Love's Immortality 169 
 
 Love's Keys 145 
 
 Love's Sacrifice 237 
 
 Love's Witchery 74 
 
 Loving in Truth, etc 313 
 
 Lowest Trees Have Tops, 
 
 The 286 
 
 Luce's Dirge 674 
 
 Lullaby 589 
 
 Lusty May 133 
 
 Mad Maid's Song, The 209 
 
 Madrigal (Anon.) 195 
 
 Madrigal (Anon.) 45 
 
 Madrigal (Anon.) 65 
 
 Madrigal (Anon.) 246 
 
 Madrigal (Drummond) . . . . 511 
 
 Madrigal (To Cupid) . . 150 
 
 Madrigal, A (Alexander).. 137 
 
 Madrigal, A (Lodge) 529 
 
 Man 482 
 
 Man's Civil War 500 
 
 Man's Medley 495 
 
 Mark When She Smiles... 123 
 Master Francis Beaumont's 
 
 Letter to Ben Jonson. . . 413 
 
 Matin-Song 2 
 
 May-Song 30 
 
 Means to Attain Happy 
 
 Life, The 515 
 
 Melancholy 567 
 
 Menaphone's Song 144 
 
 Merry Cuckoo, Messenger 
 
 of Spring, The 317 
 
 Merry Heart, The 526 
 
 Merry Month of May, The 30 
 
 Message, The (Donne) 247 
 
 Message, The (Heywood) . 48 
 
 Miracle, A 84 
 
 Miserrimus 552- 
 
INDEX TO TITLES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Montana the Shepherd, etc. 308 
 
 Montanus' Vow 314 
 
 Moon, The (Best) 588 
 
 Moon, The (Sidney) 587 
 
 Most Glorious Lord of Life 634 
 
 Mullidor's Madrigal 130 
 
 Muses That Sing 283 
 
 Music 403 
 
 Music to Hear, Why 
 
 Hear'st Thou Music 
 
 Sadly? 404 
 
 My Fair A-Field 29 
 
 My Heart 248 
 
 My Heart Is High Above. 141 
 
 My Hope a Counsel 224 
 
 My Lady Greensleeves. . . . 191 
 
 My Lady's Hand 11 
 
 My Lady's Presence Makes 
 
 the Roses Red 204 
 
 My Mind a Kingdom 511 
 
 Myra 95 
 
 My Spotless Love Hovers 
 
 with Purest Wings 205 
 
 New Terusalem, The 637 
 
 New Year's Gift, The 606 
 
 Nightingale, The 73 
 
 Night-Piece (The) : To 
 
 Julia 579 
 
 Night Is Near Gone, The.. 9 
 
 Noble Balm, The 513 
 
 No Medicine to Mirth 527 
 
 No jNIinute Good to Love.. 287 
 
 Nosegay, A 39 
 
 N'Oserez Vous,. Mon Bel 
 
 Ami? 299 
 
 Not Mine Own Fears 154 
 
 No Trust in Time 682 
 
 Now the Hungry Lion 
 
 Roars 584 
 
 Now What Is Love ? 76 
 
 Now Winter Nights En- 
 large 563 
 
 Nox Nocti Indicat Scien- 
 
 tiam 580 
 
 Nymphidia 446 
 
 Nymph's Passion, A 136 
 
 Nymph's Reply, The 47 
 
 O Come Quickly 626 
 
 O Cruel Love 268 
 
 O Crudelis Amor (Cam- 
 Dion) 559 
 
 O Crudelis Amor (Peele) . . 258 
 
 O Fly, My Soul 536 
 
 Ode 424 
 
 Ode, An 35 
 
 Ode (Davison) 305 
 
 Ode to Himself 472 
 
 Of His Dear Son, Gervase 661 
 
 Of Misery 570 
 
 Old Age 526 
 
 Olden Love-Making 54 
 
 On a Bank as I Sat A- 
 
 Fishing 27 
 
 On a Fair Morning 7 
 
 On a Girdle.. 92 
 
 On a Virtuous Young 
 Gentlewoman that Died 
 
 Suddenly 660 
 
 One Day I Wrote Her 
 
 Name 557 
 
 One I Would Love, The.. 307 
 On Lucy, Countess of Bed- 
 ford 320 
 
 On Quicksedge, Wrought 
 
 with Lovely Eglantine.. 204 
 On Sardanapalus' Dishon- 
 ourable Life 548 
 
 On Spenser's " Faerie 
 
 Queene " 131 
 
 On the Death of Sir Philip 
 
 Sidney 652 
 
 On the Excellence of His 
 
 Mistress 85 
 
 On the Lady Mary Villiers 663 
 On the Queen's Return 
 
 from the Low Countries 194 
 On the Tombs in West- 
 minster Abbey 649 
 
 Ophelia's Song 640 
 
 Orpheus 405 
 
 Orpheus I Am, Come from 
 
 the Deeps Below 147 
 
 O Sorrow, Sorrow 566 
 
 O Sweet Woods 499 
 
 Our Blessed Lady's Lul- 
 laby 597 
 
 Ousel-Cock, So Black of 
 
 Hue, The 443 
 
 Palinode, A 542 
 
 Panglory's Wooing Song.... 301 
 
 Pan's Sentinel 575 
 
 Pari Jugo Dulcis Tractus.. 481 
 
 Parting, The 271 
 
 Part of an Ode, A 661 
 
 Passionate Shepherd to His 
 
 Love, The 46 
 
 Passion of My Lord Essex 519 
 
 Passions 200 
 
 Passions of Desire 80 
 
 Pastoral of Phyllis and 
 
 Corydon, A 68 
 
 807 
 
INDEX TO TITLES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Pedlar's Song 420 
 
 Penthea's Dying Song 675 
 
 Perfect Beauty ... 125 
 
 Perigot and Willie's 
 
 Roundelay 19 
 
 Philomela 38 
 
 Philomela's Ode that She 
 
 Sung in Her Arbour... 72 
 
 Phoebe's Sonnet 164 
 
 Phoebus, Farewell ! 422 
 
 Phoenix and the Turtle 650 
 
 Phyllida and Corydon 28 
 
 Phyllis 93 
 
 Phyllis and Corydon 139 
 
 Piping Peace 213 
 
 Poor Soul, the Centre of 
 
 My Sinful Earth 537 
 
 Praise and Prayer 628 
 
 Praise of Ceres 562 
 
 Praise of His Lady, A 105 
 
 Praise of His Love, A 201 
 
 Presents 95 
 
 Primrose, The 18 
 
 Promised Weal 94 
 
 Prothalamion 377 
 
 Pulley, The 483 
 
 Questions and Answers... 527 
 
 Radagon in Dianam 70 
 
 Ralph, the May-Lord 33 
 
 Recall of Love, The 270 
 
 Recantation, A 271 
 
 Religious Use of Taking 
 
 Tobacco, A 547 
 
 Renunciation, A (bis) 266 
 
 Resolved to Dust 274 
 
 Restore Thy Tresses 207 
 
 Revocation, A 265 
 
 Risposta 516 
 
 Robin Hood's Dirge 646 
 
 Rondel of Love, A 168 
 
 Rosalind 94 
 
 Rosalind's Madrigal 59 
 
 Rosaline 114 
 
 Rose, A 327 
 
 Rose, The 326 
 
 Round, A (Beaumont) .... 564 
 
 Round, A (Browne) ...... 32 
 
 Roundelay, A 62 
 
 Rudely Thou Wrongest My 
 
 Dear Heart's Desire.... 322 
 
 Sad Memorials 546 
 
 Saint John Baptist 607 
 
 Satyr and Clorin, The. ... 159 
 
 Satyr's Leave-Taking, The 158 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Scorner Scorned, The 260 
 
 Scorn Not the Least 496 
 
 Sea Dirge, A 647 
 
 Self-Trial 497 
 
 Sephestia's Song to Her 
 
 Child 399 
 
 Shall I Come, Sweet Love, 
 
 to Thee 293 
 
 Shall I Compare Thee to a 
 
 Summer's Day ? 123 
 
 Shepherd's Holyday, The.. 40 
 
 Shepherd's Sun, The 220 
 
 Shepherd's Wife's Song... 348 
 
 Short Sunshine 13 
 
 Shrouding of the Duchess 
 
 of Malfi, The 647 
 
 Sic Transit 543 
 
 Sigh No More, Ladies 228 
 
 Silence in Love 176 
 
 Silent Lover, The 176 
 
 Silvia 183 
 
 Simplex Munditiis 90 
 
 Since Brass Nor Stone.... 315 
 Since First I Saw Your 
 
 Face 121 
 
 Sirena 99 
 
 Sleep, Angry Beauty, Sleep 591 
 
 Sleep (Sackville) 592 
 
 Small Comfort Might My 
 
 Banish'd Hopes Recall.. 323 
 Soldier Going to the Field, 
 
 The 440 
 
 Solitary Shepherd's Song, 
 
 The 214 
 
 Sonet 237 
 
 Song (Carew) 202 
 
 Song (Daniel) 279 
 
 Song (Dekker) 481 
 
 Song (Donne) 288 
 
 Song (Donne) 280 
 
 Song (Jonson) 220 
 
 Song (Sidney) 81 
 
 Song (Sidney) 582 
 
 Song (Sidney) 294 
 
 Song (Sidney) 298 
 
 Song (Sidney) 161 
 
 Song for Priests, A 520 
 
 Song of the May 29 
 
 Song of the Siren 234 
 
 Song of Woe 576 
 
 Song to Apollo 2 
 
 Sonnet (by King James I.) 685 
 So Oft as I Her Beauty 
 
 Do Behold 199 
 
 Soul's Errand, The 679 
 
 Soul's Haven, The. 616 
 
 Speak, Thou Fairest Fair.. 206 
 
INDEX TO TITLES 
 
 spring 11 
 
 Spring's Welcome 11 
 
 Stately Dames of Rome 
 
 Their Pearls Did Wear, 
 
 The 196 
 
 Stay, O Sweet 8 
 
 Stella, Think Not 316 
 
 Strange Passion of a 
 
 Lover, The 290 
 
 Stream, The 335 
 
 Summer Day, A 331 
 
 Summer's Day, A 329 
 
 Summons to Love 6 
 
 Supplication, A 242 
 
 Sweet Content 517 
 
 Sweet Love, Renew Thy 
 
 Force 281 
 
 Sweet Lullaby, A 400 
 
 Sweet Pastoral, A 338 
 
 Sweet Robbery 96 
 
 Sweet Rose, Whence Is 
 
 This Hue? 328 
 
 Sweet Soul, Which in the 
 
 April of Thy Years 556 
 
 Sweet Suffolk Owl 578 
 
 Syrinx 317 
 
 Take, O Take Those Lips 
 
 Away 270 
 
 Talent, The 614 
 
 Then Hate Me When Thou 
 
 Wilt 252 
 
 Then Love Be Judge 83 
 
 There Is a Lady Sweet 
 
 and Kind 98 
 
 There Is None, O None 
 
 but You 307 
 
 They that Have Power to 
 
 Hurt and Will Do None 531 
 Think'st Thou to Seduce 
 
 Me Then 247 
 
 Thou May'st Repent 242 
 
 Thou Window, Once Which 
 
 Served 558 
 
 Three Epitaphs upon the 
 
 Death of a Rare Child. 656 
 
 Three Poor Mariners 429 
 
 Thrice Happy He Who by 
 
 Some Shady Grove 518 
 
 Thy Bosom Is Endeared 
 
 with All Hearts 553 
 
 Time 525 
 
 Time and Love 229 
 
 Times Go by Turns 523 
 
 To a Gentlewoman 310 
 
 To Althea, from Prison... 186 
 
 To a Mistress Dying 553 
 
 PAGE 
 
 To a Nightingale 584 
 
 To an Inconstant One.... 254 
 To Anthea, Who May Com- 
 mand Him Anything.... 185 
 
 To Aurora 16 
 
 To Be Merry 528 
 
 To Blossoms 22 
 
 To Celia 83 
 
 To Chloe 184 
 
 To Cynthia 587 
 
 To Cynthia 586 
 
 To Daffodils 534 
 
 To Daisies, Not to Shut 
 
 So Soon 573 
 
 To Dianeme 82 
 
 To Electra 157 
 
 To Her Sea-Faring Lover. 233 
 
 To His Book 318 
 
 To His Ever-Loving God. 615 
 
 To His Forsaken Mistress. 249 
 
 To His Inconstant Mistress 253 
 
 To His Lute (Wyat) 258 
 
 To His Lute (Drummond) . 555 
 
 To His Paternal Country. . 655 
 
 To His Saviour, a Child... 602 
 To Live Merrily and to 
 
 Trust to Good Verses... 411 
 To Lucasta, Going Beyond 
 
 the Seas 232 
 
 To Lucasta, Going to the 
 
 Wars 426 
 
 To Meadows 17 
 
 To Me, Fair Friend, You 
 
 Never Can Be Old 561 
 
 To Music Bent Is My Re- 
 tired Mind 622 
 
 To Music, to Becalm His 
 
 Fever 405 
 
 To CEnone 157 
 
 To Phyllis, the Fair Shep- 
 herdess 41 
 
 To Roses in the Bosom of 
 
 Castara 184 
 
 To Saint Katherine 608 
 
 To Sleep 592 
 
 To the Blest Evanthe 211 
 
 To the Nightingale 585 
 
 To the Virginian Voyage.. 430 
 
 To the Western Wind 92 
 
 To Time 682 
 
 To Violets 18 
 
 Toss Not My Soul, O Love 210 
 
 Triumph of Charis, The.. 140 
 
 Troll the Bowl 669 
 
 True Love 56 
 
 True Love, A 167 
 
 Truth Doth Truth Deserve 520 
 
INDEX TO TITLES 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 'Twas I That Paid for All 
 
 
 What Guile Is This? 
 
 83 
 
 Things 
 
 269 
 
 What Is Love? 
 
 44 
 
 Two Carols 
 
 593 
 
 What Pleasure Have Great 
 
 
 
 
 Princes 
 
 347 
 
 
 117 
 192 
 
 What Poor Astronomers 
 Are They 
 
 
 Ulysses and the Siren 
 
 87 
 
 Uncertainty 
 
 151 
 
 What the Mighty Love Has 
 
 
 Under the Greenwood Tree 
 
 36 
 
 Done 
 
 143 
 
 Unfading Beauty, The 
 
 125 
 
 What Wight He Loved.... 
 
 60 
 
 Upon a Child That Died.. 
 
 656 
 
 When Daffodils Begin to 
 
 
 Upon Combing Her Hair. . 
 Upon Her Protesting, etc. 
 
 198 
 
 Peer 
 
 14 
 
 285 
 
 When, Dearest, I but 
 
 
 Upon Julia's Clothes 
 
 Upon Julia's Hair Filled 
 
 91 
 
 Think of Thee 
 
 218 
 
 
 When Flora Had O'erfret 
 
 
 with Dew 
 
 88 
 
 the Firth 
 
 133 
 
 Upon Julia's Recovery 
 
 197 
 
 When That I Was and a 
 
 
 Upon the Book and Picture 
 
 
 Little Tiny Boy 
 
 402 
 
 of the Seraphical Saint 
 
 
 When to the Sessions of 
 
 
 Theresa 
 
 607 
 
 Sweet Silent Thought... 
 
 554 
 
 Upon the Death of Sir 
 
 
 Where the Bee Sucks 
 
 335 
 
 Albertus Morton's Wife 
 
 666 
 
 Whether Men Do Laugh 
 
 
 Urns and Odours Bring 
 
 
 or Weep 
 
 535 
 
 Away 
 
 567 
 
 Whilst It Is Prime 
 
 Whilst Youthful Sports 
 
 12 
 
 Valediction, Forbidding 
 
 
 Are Lasting 
 
 530 
 
 Mourning 
 
 641 
 
 White Island, The 
 
 6?,6 
 
 Vanitas Vanitatum 
 
 534 
 
 Whoever Thinks or Hopes 
 
 
 Verses from the Shep- 
 
 
 of Love for Love 
 
 155 
 
 herd's Hymn 
 
 604 
 
 Who Grace for Zenith Had 
 
 474 
 
 
 147 
 
 World, The 
 
 501 
 
 Virtue 
 
 540 
 
 Why Canst Thou Not 
 
 155 
 
 Virtue Triumphant 
 
 528 
 
 Why So Pale and Wan 
 
 281 
 
 
 128 
 
 Widow, The 
 
 667 
 
 
 88 
 
 que Amemus 
 
 128 
 
 Wily Cupid 
 
 150 
 
 Vixi Puellis Nuper Idoneus 
 
 243 
 
 Winter 
 
 563 
 
 
 Wishes for Vin 
 
 514 
 
 Wanton Shepherdess, The. 
 
 428 
 
 Wishes to His Supposed 
 
 
 Waly, Waly, Love Be 
 
 
 Mistress 
 
 109 
 
 
 238 
 
 Woman Will Have Her 
 
 
 Ways on Earth, The 
 
 235 
 570 
 
 Will, A 
 
 429 
 
 Weeper, The 
 
 Wooing Stuff 
 
 5;^ 
 
 Weep ^ou No More, Sad 
 
 
 World, a Hunting, The 
 
 540 
 
 
 573 
 138 
 
 
 235 
 
 Welcome, A 
 
 
 
 Were My Heart as Some 
 
 
 Yea or Nay 
 
 ?M 
 
 
 179 
 
 Young Love 
 
 You Spotted Snakes 
 
 43 
 444 
 
 We Saw and Woo'd Each 
 
 
 Other's Eyes 
 
 171 
 
 
 
 What Delight Can They 
 
 
 Zephyrus Brings the Time 
 
 
 Enjoy 
 
 216 
 
 that Sweetly Scenteth... 
 
 324 
 
 What Doth It Serve to See 
 
 
 
 
 the Sun's Burning Face 
 
 652 
 
 
 
 8io 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A blithe and bonny country lass Lodge 50 
 
 A face that would content me wondrous well M'^yat 307 
 
 A Nymph is married to a Fay Drayton 384 
 
 A Rose, as fair as ever saw the north Browne 326 
 
 A seeming friend, yet enemy to rest Anon. 427 
 
 A sweet disorder in the dress Herrick 91 
 
 Absence, hear thou mj' protestation Donne 424 
 
 Accept, thou shrine of my dead saint King 657 
 
 Accurst be Love, and those that trust his trains Lodge 256 
 
 Adieu! farewell earth's bliss Nashe 633 
 
 Ah, sweet Content, where is thy mild abode? Barnes 519 
 
 Ah, what is love? It is a pretty thing Greene 348 
 
 Ah! were she pitiful as she is fair Greene 120 
 
 Alas! my love, you do me wrong Anon. 191 
 
 Alas! what pleasure, now the pleasant spring Bolton 163 
 
 Alexis, here she stayed; among these pines Drummond 555 
 
 All the flowers of the spring Webster 534 
 
 All ye that lovely lovers be Peele 146 
 
 Amid my bale I bathe in bliss Gascoigne 290 
 
 And wilt thou leave me thus? Wyat 240 
 
 And yet I cannot reprehend the flight 5". Daniel 324 
 
 Are they shadows that we see 6". Daniel 541 
 
 Art thou god to shepherd turned Shakespeare 175 
 
 Art thou gone in haste ? Rowley 286 
 
 Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers? Dekker 517 
 
 Art thou that she than whom no fairer is Anon. 93 
 
 As careful merchants do expecting stand Browne 183 
 
 As I in hoary winter's night Southwell 603 
 
 As it fell upon a day Barniield 38 
 
 As virtuous men pass mildly away Donne 641 
 
 As when it happeneth that some lovely town Drummond 531 
 
 As withered the primrose by the river :. .Bolton 542 
 
 As ye came from the holy land Raleigh 170 
 
 Ask me no more where Jove bestows Carew 202 
 
 Ask me why I send you here Carew or Herrick 18 
 
 At her fair hands how have I grace entreated F. Davison 214 
 
 At morning and at evening both Corbet Z2>7 
 
 Away, delights! go seek some other dwelling /. Fletcher 253 
 
 Be your words made, good Sir, of Indian ware Sidney 425 
 
 Beauty, alas! where wast thou born Lodge 207 
 
 Beauty clear and fair /. Fletcher 124 
 
 Beauty sat bathing by a spring Munday 219 
 
 Beauty, sweet Love, is like the morning dew 5. Daniel 14 
 
 8ii 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Because thou wast the daughter of a King Constable 608 
 
 Behold a wonder here ! Anon. 84 
 
 Being your slave, what should I do but tend. .. .Shakespeare 178 
 
 Bid me live, and I will live Herrick 185 
 
 Blow, blow thou winter wind Shakespeare 544 
 
 Blown in the morning, thou shalt fade ere noon. .. .Fanshawe 327 
 
 Breaking from under that thy cloudy veil. .Herbert of Cherbury 198 
 
 Bright star of beauty, on whose eye-lids sit Drayton 86 
 
 Brown is my love but graceful. Anon. 65 
 
 By him lay heavy Sleep, the cousin of Death Buckhurst 592 
 
 Calme was the day, and through the trembling aye. .. .Spenser 377 
 
 Call for the robin-redbreast and the wren Webster 646 
 
 Calling to mind, my eyes went long about Raleigh 156 
 
 Camella fair tripped o'er the plain Anon. 216 
 
 Can I not come to Thee, my God, for these Herrick 615 
 
 Can we not force from widow'd Poetry Carew 675 
 
 Care-charming Sleep, thou easer of all woes /. Fletcher 590 
 
 Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable night 5". Daniel 590 
 
 Care for thy soul as thing of greatest price Anon. 510 
 
 Cast our caps and cares away J. Fletcher 42 
 
 Charm me asleep, and melt me so Herrick 405 
 
 Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry Herrick 78 
 
 Clear Anker, on whose silver-sanded shore Drayton 321 
 
 Clear had the day been from the dawn Drayton 329 
 
 Come away, come away, death Shakespeare 645 
 
 Come, bring with a noise Herrick 596 
 
 Come, cheerful day, part of my life to me , Campion 543 
 
 Come, come, dear Night, love's mart of kisses Chapman 373 
 
 Come follow me, you country lasses..../. Fletcher or Rowley 345 
 
 Come hither, shepherd's swain ! Oxford 188 
 
 Come hither, you that love, and hear me sing J. Fletcher 135 
 
 Come little babe, come silly soul Breton 400 
 
 Come live with me and be my love Marlowe 46 
 
 Come, my Celia, let us prove Jonson 128 
 
 Come, shepherds, come! /. Fletcher 428 
 
 Come, Sleep, and with thy sweet deceiving /. Fletcher 589 
 
 Come, Sleep! O Sleep! the certain knot of peace Sidney 592 
 
 Come, Sorrow, come, sit down and mourn with me Anon. 565 
 
 Come, spur away Randolph 350 
 
 Come thou, who art the wine and wit Herrick 550 
 
 Come, worthy Greek! Ulysses, come S. Daniel 192 
 
 Come, ye heavy states of night Anon. 565 
 
 Come, you whose loves are dead F. Beaumont 67 A 
 
 Cold's the wind, and wet's the rain Dekker 669 
 
 Corpse, clad with carefulness Howell 570 
 
 Corydon, arise, my Corydon! Anon. 3 
 
 Crabbed Age and Youth _. Shakespeare 523 
 
 Crowned with flowers I saw fair Amaryllis Anon. 169 
 
 Cupid and my Campaspe play'd Lyly 142 
 
 Cynthia, because your horns look divers ways.... Lorrf Brooke 586 
 
 Cynthia, to thy power and thee /. Fletcher 356 
 
 Cynthia, whose glories are at full forever Lord Brooke 587 
 
 Dear chorister, who from those shadows sends. .. .Drum,mond 585 
 
 Dear, if you change, I'll never choose again,,,-,, Anon. 225 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 ?AGE 
 
 Dear Lord, receive my son, whose winning love. /. Beaumont 661 
 
 Dear love, for nothing less than thee Donne 296 
 
 Dearest, do not you delay me 7 Fletcher 206 
 
 Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Donne 6^4 
 
 Deceiving world, that with alluring toys Gresne 552 
 
 Dew sat on Julia's hair Herrick 88 
 
 Diaphenia like the daffadowndilly Constable 116 
 
 Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye Shakespeare 288 
 
 Dildido, dildido Greene 130 
 
 Disdain me still that I may ever love Anon. 252 
 
 Done to death by slanderous tongues Shakespeare 664 
 
 Doth sorrow fret thy soul? O direful sprite! Lord Vaux 527 
 
 Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes \ntendie.th.. .. .Sidney 161 
 
 Down a down ! Lodge 164 
 
 Down in a valley, by a forest's side Browne 322 
 
 Drink to me only with thine eyes Jonson 83 
 
 Drop, drop, slow tears. P. Fletcher 617 
 
 Droop, droop, no more, or hang the head Herrick 197 
 
 E'en like two little bank-dividing brooks Quarles 625 
 
 Eternal Time, that wasteth without waste A. W. 682 
 
 Even such is Time, that takes in trust Raleigh 524 
 
 Faint Amorist, what! dost thou think Sidney 52 
 
 Fain to content, I bend myself to write Lodge 53 
 
 Fain would I change that note Anon. \77 
 
 Fain would I have a pretty thing Anon. 312 
 
 Fair and fair, and twice so fair Peele 67 
 
 Fair daffodils, we weep to see Herrick 534 
 
 Fair Hebe, when Dame Flora meets Anon. 320 
 
 Fair is my love for April's in her face Greene 15 
 
 Fair is my love when her fair golden hairs Spenser 107 
 
 Fair is the rose, yet fades with heat or cold Anon. 327 
 
 Fair Nymphs ! sit ye here by me Munday 220 
 
 Fair pledges of a fruitful tree Herrick 22 
 
 Fair stood the wind for France Drayton 434 
 
 Fair summer droops, droop men and beasts therefore. .A/'a.y/i^ 562 
 
 Fairest, when by the rules of palmistry Browne 205 
 
 False world! good night! since thou hast brought, .. .7oM5on 508 
 
 Far in the country of Arden Drayton 275 
 
 Farewell! thou art too dear for my -possQ^smg. .. .Shakespeare 270 
 
 Farewell, ye gilded follies, pleasing troubles! Raleigh 506 
 
 Faustina hath the fairer face Anon. 67 
 
 Fear no more the heat o' the sun Shakespeare 545 
 
 Fie, fie on blind fancy Greene 283 
 
 Fine knacks for ladies! cheap, choice, brave and nevf . .Anon. 420 
 
 First shall the heavens want starry light Lodge 314 
 
 Fly hence, shadows that do keep Ford 1 
 
 Follow a shadow, it still flies you Jonson 220 
 
 Follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow Campion 241 
 
 For her gait, if she be walking Browne 56 
 
 For pity, pretty eyes, surcease Lodge 85 
 
 For lo, the sea that fleets about the land! Davies 336 
 
 Forget not yet the tried intent Wyat 242 
 
 Fra bank to bank, fra wood to wood I rin ...Boyd 237 
 
 Fresh Spring the herald of Love's mighty king. Spenser 12 
 
 From the east to western Ind Shakespeare 94 
 
 813 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 From thy forehead thus I take /. Fletcher 445 
 
 From you I have been absent all the spring Shakespeare 423 
 
 Full fathom five thy father lies Shakespeare 647 
 
 Full many a glorious morning have I seen Shakespeare 13 
 
 Gather ye rosebuds w^hile ye may Her rick 37 
 
 Get up, get up for shame! The blooming morn Herrick 24 
 
 Give me my scallop-shell of quiet Raleigh 617 
 
 Give pardon, blessed soul, to my bold cries Constable 652 
 
 Give place, you ladies, and begone! /. Heywood 105 
 
 Give place, ye lovers, here before Surrey 201 
 
 Glide soft, ye silver floods Browne 672 
 
 Glories, pleasures, pomps, delights and ease Ford 674 
 
 Go and catch a falling star Donne 280 
 
 Go, happy heart! for thou shalt lie /. Fletcher 237 
 
 Go, lovely Rose Waller 203 
 
 Go, nightly cares, the enemy to rest Anon. 503 
 
 Go, pretty child, and bear this flower ....Herrick 602 
 
 Go, Soul, the Body's guest Raleigh 679 
 
 God gives not Kings the style of gods in vain. . .King James I. 684 
 
 God Lj'^aeus, ever young /. Fletcher 43 
 
 Golden slumbers kiss your eyes Dekker 589 
 
 Good folk, for gold or hire Drayton 227 
 
 Good-morrow to the day so fair Herrick 209 
 
 Good Muse, rock me to sleep Breton 338 
 
 Gracious, Divine, and most Omnipotent Barnes 614 
 
 Hallow the threshold, crown the posts anew! Cartwright 194 
 
 Happy he Anon. 538 
 
 Happy were he could finish forth his fate Essex 519 
 
 Happy ye leaves whenas those lily hands Spenser 318 
 
 Hark, all you ladies that do sleep ! Campion 591 
 
 Hark how the birds do sing Herbert 495 
 
 Hark! now everything is still Webster 647 
 
 Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings Shakespeare 3 
 
 Haymakers, rakers, reapers, and mowers Dekker 346 
 
 He first deceased; she for a little tried Wotton 666 
 
 He that his mirth hath lost Dyer 485 
 
 He that loves a rosy cheek Carew 123 
 
 He that of such a height hath built his mind S. Daniel 503 
 
 Hear, ye ladies that despise /. Fletcher 143 
 
 Hence, all you vain delights J. Fletcher 567 
 
 Hence away, you Sirens, leave m^ Wither 261 
 
 Hence heart, with her that must riepart Scott 291 
 
 Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee Herrick 579 
 
 Her hair the net of golden wire Anon. 88 
 
 Here a little child I stand Herrick 402 
 
 Here a pretty baby lies Herrick 657 
 
 Here lies the blithe Spring Dekker 325 
 
 Here she lies a pretty bud .Herrick 656 
 
 ?Tere she was wont to go, and here and here! Jonson 559 
 
 Hey, down a down! did Dian sing Anon. 63 
 
 Hey nonny no ! Anon. 199 
 
 Hey! nov/ the day dawis Montgomerie 9 
 
 His golden locks Time hath to silver turn'd Feele 439 
 
 Hierusalem, my happy home Anon. 637 
 
 High-spirited friend Jonson 513 
 
 814 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 High-way. since you my chief Parnassus be Sidney 147 
 
 How fresh, O Lord, how sweet and clean Herbert 630 
 
 How happy is he born and taught iVotton 515 
 
 How like a winter hath my absence been Shakespeare 424 
 
 How many new years have grown old Anon. 151 
 
 How near me came the hand of death Wither 667 
 
 How shall I then gaze on my mistress' eyes? Anon. 80 
 
 How should I vour true love knov/ Shakespeare 640 
 
 I cannot eat but little meat Still 419 
 
 I dare not ask a kiss Herrick 157 
 
 I do confess thou'rt smooth and fair Ay ton 249 
 
 I fear not henceforth death Drummond 548 
 
 I got me flowers to strew Thy way Herbert 635 
 
 I have a mistress, for perfections rare Randolph 177 
 
 I live, and yet methinks I do not breathe Anon. 537 
 
 I know my soul hath power to know all things Davie s 482 
 
 I know that all beneath the moon decays Drummond 558 
 
 I love, and he loves me again Jonson 136 
 
 I loved a lass, a fair one Wither 250 
 
 I loved thee once; I love no more Ayton 254 
 
 I long to talk with some old lover's ghost Donne 166 
 
 I must not grieve my Love, whose eyes would read.. 5". Daniel 321 
 
 I pray thee, leave, love me no more Drayton 309 
 
 I saw fair Chloris walk alone Anon. 215 
 
 I saw my Lady weep Anon. 572 
 
 I saw the object of my pining thought Watson 284 
 
 I struck the board and cried, No more Herbert 628 
 
 I serve Aminta, whiter than the snow Munday 308 
 
 I tell thee, Dick, where I have been Suckling 395 
 
 I walk'd along a stream, for pureness rare Marlowe 335 
 
 I, with whose colours Myra dressed her head. .. .Lore? Brooke 95 
 
 If all the pens that poets ever held Marlowe 132 
 
 If all the world and Love were young Raleigh 47 
 
 If I could shut the gates against my thoughts /. Daniel 627 
 
 If I freely can discover Jonson 57 
 
 If Jove himself be subject unto Love Watson 200 
 
 If love be life, I long to die F. Davison 152 
 
 If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love? 
 
 Shakespeare 179 
 
 If music and sweet poetry agree Barn-field 407 
 
 If the quick spirits in your eye Carew 210 
 
 If thou sit here to view this pleasant garden ^lace. .Gascoigne 533 
 
 If thou survive my well-contented day Shakespeare 547 
 
 If to be absent were to be Lovelace 232 
 
 If waker care, — if sudden pale colour Wyat 212 
 
 If women could be fair and yet not fond Oxford 153 
 
 If yet I have not all thy love Donne 173 
 
 In a harbour grene aslepe whereas I lay Wever 134 
 
 In going to my naked bed as one that would have slept 
 
 Edwardes 497 
 
 In petticoat of green Drummond 93 
 
 In the hour of my distress Herrick 620 
 
 In the merry month of May .Breton 28 
 
 In this world, the Isle of Dreams Herrick 626 
 
 In time of yore when shepherds dwelt Breton 54 
 
 In time we see that silver drops Greene 282 
 
 815 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Is not thilke the merry month of May Spenser 30 
 
 It fell upon a holy eve Spenser 19 
 
 It is not growing like a tree Jonson 661 
 
 It was a beauty that I saw Jonson 125 
 
 It was a lover and his lass. Shakespeare 61 
 
 It was a valley gaudy-green Greene 70 
 
 Jack and Joan, they think no ill Campion 342 
 
 Jog on, jog on, the footpath way Shakespeare 526 
 
 Know, Celia, since thou art so proud Carew 65 
 
 Lady, when I behold the roses sprouting Anon. 79 
 
 Lady! you are with beauties so enriched F. Davison 285 
 
 Lawn as white as driven snow Shakespeare 421 
 
 Lay a garland on my hearse /. Fletcher 640 
 
 Let me not to the marriage of true minds Shakespeare 316 
 
 Let Mother Earth now deck herself in flowers Sidney 353 
 
 Let others look for pearl and gold Herrick 606 
 
 Let others sing of Knights and Paladines 5. Daniel 319 
 
 Let not the sluggish sleep Anon. 497 
 
 Let's now take our time Herrick 528 
 
 Let the bells ring, and let the boys sing /. Fletcher 418 
 
 Let the bird of loudest lay Shakespeare 650 
 
 Let those complain that feel Love's cruelty /. Fletcher 211 
 
 Let us drink and be merry, dance, joke, and rejoice. ./ordo« 521 
 
 Like as the Culver, on the bared bough Spenser 560 
 
 Like as the rising morning shows a grateful lightening. .Dyer 383 
 
 Little think'st thou, poor flower Donne 23 
 
 Like to Diana in her summer weed Greene 97 
 
 Like to the clear in highest sphere Lodge 114 
 
 Like to the falling of a star King 482 
 
 Like two proud armies marching in the field Anon. 125 
 
 Live in these conquering leaves; live all the same. .. .Crashaw 607 
 
 Live with me still, and all the measures Dekker 212 
 
 Lo, quhat it is to love Scott 168 
 
 London, to thee I do present F. Beaumont 33 
 
 Love bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back Herbert 129 
 
 Love guards the roses of thy lips Lodge 79 
 
 Love for such a cherry lip Mid diet on 80 
 
 Love, if a god thou art F. Davison 150 
 
 Love in my bosom, like a bee Lodge 59 
 
 Love is a sickness full of woes 5". Daniel 279 
 
 Love me or not, love her I must or die Campion 175 
 
 Love, thou art absolute, sole Lord Crashaw 610 
 
 Love wing'd my Hopes and taught me how to fly Anon. 208 
 
 Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to shovf ... .Sidney 313 
 
 Look, Delia, how we esteem the half -blown rose 5". Daniel 325 
 
 Look how the flower which lingeringly doth ia.de. .Drummond 682 
 
 Look how the pale queen of the silent night Best 588 
 
 Madam, withouten many words Wyat 284 
 
 Maid, will ye love me, yea or no? Anon. 58 
 
 Mark when she smiles with amiable cheer Spenser 123 
 
 Martial, the things that do attain Surrey 515 
 
 May! Be thou never graced with birds that sing Browne 667 
 
 Me oft my fancy drew Wither 117 
 
 8t6 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Methought I saw the grave where Laura lay Raleigh 131 
 
 Mortality, behold and fear! F. Beaumont 649 
 
 Most glorious Lord of Life, that on this day Spenser 634 
 
 Muses that sing Love's sensual empery Chapman 283 
 
 Music some think, no music is Anon. 407 
 
 Music to hear, why hear'st thou jnusic sadly? ... .Shakespeare 404 
 
 My bonny lass, thine eye Lodge 74 
 
 My Daphne's hair is twisted gold Lyly 89 
 
 My dear and only Love, I pray Montrose 148 
 
 My heart is high above, my body is full of bliss Anon. 141 
 
 My hope a counsel with my heart Anon. 224 
 
 My hovering thoughts would fly to heaven Southwell 500 
 
 My Lady's presence makes the Roses red 5. Daniel 204 
 
 My love in her attire doth show her wit Anon. 195 
 
 My love is strengthened Shakespeare 174 
 
 My lute, awake! perform the last Wyat 258 
 
 My lute, be as thou wert when thou didst grow ... .Drjimmond 555 
 
 My mind to me a kingdom is Dyer 511 
 
 My only star F. Davison 305 
 
 My Phyllis .hath the morning sun Lodge 41 
 
 My prime of youth is but a frost of cares Tichborne 549 
 
 My soul, sit thou a patient looker on Quarles 639 
 
 My spotless love hovers with purest wings i\ Daniel 205 
 
 My sweetest Lesbia, let us live and love Campion 128 
 
 My thoughts hold mortal strife Drummond 511 
 
 My true-love hath my heart; and I have his Sidney 51 
 
 Near to the silver Trent Drayton 99 
 
 Never love unless you can Campion 44 
 
 Never more will I protest F. Beaumont 244 
 
 Never weather-beaten sail more willing bent to shore. .Campion 626 
 
 No longer mourn for me when I am dead Shakespeare 556 
 
 Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul Shakespeare 154 
 
 Not to know vice at all, and keep true state Jonson 491 
 
 Now each creature joys the other S. Daniel 35 
 
 Now is the time for mirth Herrick 411 
 
 Now that the spring hath filled our veins Browne 32, 
 
 Now the hungry lion roars Shakespeare 584 
 
 Now the lusty spring is seen /. Fletcher 31 
 
 Now what is Love, I pray thee, tell? Raleigh 76 
 
 Now, whilst the moon doth rule the sky /. Fletcher 575 
 
 Now winter nights enlarge Campion 563 
 
 O cruel Love, on thee I lay Lyly 268 
 
 O Cupid! monarch over kings Lyly 149 
 
 O dear Life, when shall it be Sidney 298 
 
 Oh earth! earth! earth! hear my voice Herrick 655 
 
 O, fair sweet goddess. Queen of loves /. Fletcher 229 
 
 O, faithless world! and thy more faithless part! Wotton 670 
 
 O fly, vay soul ! what hangs upon Shirley 536 
 
 O for some honest lover's ghost Suckling 225 
 
 O gentle Love, ungentle for thy deed Peele 258 
 
 O goodly hand ! Wyat 77 
 
 O happj' dames! that may embrace Surrey 230 
 
 O happy Tithon! if thou know'st thy hap Stirling 16 
 
 O if thou knew'st how thou thyself dost harm Stirling 16 
 
 O Love, sweet Love, O high and heavenly Love! Anon. 271 
 
 8i7 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 O lusty May, with Flora qvieen Anon. ' 133 
 
 O mistress mine, where are you roaming Shakespeare 64 
 
 O never say that I was false of heart Shakespeare 422 
 
 O night, O jealous night, repugnant to my measures. .. .J'non. 578 
 
 O no, Belov'd: I am most sure Herbert of Cherbury 636 
 
 O perfect Light, which shaid away Hume 331 
 
 O that joy so soon should waste! Jonson 66 
 
 O, the month of May, the merry month of May Dekker 30 
 
 O thou that swing'st upon the waving hair Lovelace 330 
 
 O shady vales, O fair enriched meads Lodge 214 
 
 O, Sorrow, Sorrow, say where dost thou dwell? Dekker 566 
 
 O sweet woods, the delight of solitariness Sidney 499 
 
 O waly, waly, up the bank Anon. 238 
 
 O wearisome condition of humanity Lord Brooke 520 
 
 O words which fall like summer dew on me! Sidney 94 
 
 Of Neptune's empire let us sing Campion 131 
 
 Of Pan we sing, the best of singers. Pan Jonson 471 
 
 Of this fair volume which we World do name Drummond 539 
 
 Oh no more, no more, too late Ford 675 
 
 Old Chaucer doth of Topas tell Drayton 446 
 
 On a day — alack the day! , Shakespeare 21 
 
 On a fair morning as I came by the way Anon. 7 
 
 On a hill there grows a flower Breton 68 
 
 On a time the amorous Silvy Anon. 127 
 
 On quicksedge, wrought with lovely eglantine Tofte 204 
 
 One day I wrote her name upon the strand Spenser 557 
 
 Only Joy ! now here you are Sidney 294 
 
 Open the door! who's there within? Anon. 294 
 
 Orpheus I am, come from the deeps below /. Fletcher 147 
 
 Orpheus with his lute made trees Shakespeare or Fletcher 405 
 
 Out upon it, I have loved Suckling 227 
 
 Over hill, over dale Shakespeare 441 
 
 Pack clouds, away, and welcome, day! T. Heywood 2 
 
 Pan's Syrinx was a girl indeed . .Lyly 317 
 
 Pardon, goddess of the night. Shakespeare 576 
 
 Passions are likened best to floods and streams Raleigh 176 
 
 Peace and silence be the guide F. Beaumont 357 
 
 Phillis kept sheep along the western plains Greene 139 
 
 Phoebus, arise ! . Drummond 6 
 
 Phoebus, farewell! a sweeter Saint I serve Sidney 422 
 
 Pluck the fruit and taste the pleasure Lodge 530 
 
 Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth Shakespeare 537 
 
 Praise is devotion fit for mighty minds Davenant 628 
 
 Pretty twinkling starry eyes Breton 82 
 
 Preserve thy sighs, unthrifty girl!.... Davenant 440 
 
 Queen and Huntress, chaste and fair ^ .. .Jonson 586 
 
 Quhen Flora had o'erfret the firth Anon. 133 
 
 Quivering fears, heart-tearing cares Anon. 340 
 
 Resolved to dust entombed here lieth Love Watson 274 
 
 Restore thy tresses to the golden ore 5". Daniel 207 
 
 Ring out your bells, let mourning shews be spread. .. .Sic^n^y 272 
 
 Rose-cheek'd Laura, come Campion 318 
 
 Roses, their sharp spines being gone. . .Shakespeare or Fletcher 357 
 
 Rudely thou wrongest my dear heart's desire Spenser 322 
 
 8i8 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Saj', crimson Rose and dainty Daffodil Reynolds 39 
 
 Send home my long-stray'd eyes to me Donne 247 
 
 See the Chariot at hand here of Love Jonson 140 
 
 See where my Love a-Maying goes Anon. 29 
 
 See where she sits upon the grassy green Spenser 108 
 
 See, see, mine own sweet jewel.- Anon. 95 
 
 Shake off your heavy trance F. Beaumont 564 
 
 Shall I come, sweet Love, to thee Campion 293 
 
 Shall I compare thee to a summer's day .Shakespeare 123 
 
 Shall I thus ever long, and be no whit the neare Anon. 233 
 
 Shall I tell you whom I love ? Browne 60 
 
 Shall I, wasting in despair Wither 260 
 
 She beat the happy pavement Lovelace 66 
 
 She fell away in her first ages spring Spenser 653 
 
 She who to Heaven more Heaven annex Cartwright 660 
 
 Shepherds all, and maidens fair /. Fletcher 574 
 
 Shun delays, they breed remorse Southwell 532 
 
 Shut not so soon; the dull-eyed night Herrick 573 
 
 Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more Shakespeare 228 
 
 Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea.. Shakespeare 315 
 Since first I saw your face I resolved to honour and renown ye 
 
 Anon. 121 
 
 Since honour from the honourer preceeds Florio 539 
 
 Since there's no help, come let us kiss and ^art. .. .Drayton 271 
 
 Sing his praises that doth keep 7. Fletcher 471 
 
 Sing lullaby, as women do Gascoigne 180 
 
 Sing to Apollo, god of day Lyly 2 
 
 Sister, awake! close not your eyes! Anon. 29 
 
 Sitting by a river side Greene 72 
 
 Sleep, angry beauty, sleep, and fear not me! Campion 591 
 
 Slow, slow, fresh fount, keep time with my salt tears, ./onjow 644 
 
 Sly thief, if so you will believe Anon. 246 
 
 Small comfort might my banish'd hopes recall Stirling 323 
 
 So oft as I her beauty do behold Spenser 199 
 
 So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not .Shakespeare 90 
 
 Some say Love Greene 144 
 
 Son of Erebus and night Browne 442 
 
 Sound is the knot that Chastity hath tied Anon. 481 
 
 Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king.. . .Nashe 11 
 
 Stay, O sweet, and do not rise Donne 8 
 
 Stella, think not that I by verse seek fame Sidney 316 
 
 Steer hither, steer your winged pines Browne 234 
 
 Still do the stars impart their light Cartwright 255 
 
 Still to be neat, still to be drest Jonson 90 
 
 Sweet Adon, darest not glance thine eye Greene 299 
 
 Sweet are the thoughts that savour of content Greene 517 
 
 Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes Herrick 82 
 
 Sweet bird, that sing'st away the early hours Drnmmond 584 
 
 Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright Herbert 540 
 
 Sweet Love, if thou wilt gain a monarch's glory Anon. 143 
 
 Sweet Love, mine only treasure .A. W. 98 
 
 Sweet love, renew thy force: be it not said. .. .Shakespeare 281 
 
 Sweet nymphs, if, as ye stray Drnmmond 187 
 
 Sweet Phyllis, if a silly swain Breton 189 
 
 Sweet Rose, whence is this hue Drummond 328 
 
 Sweet soul, which in the April of thy years ^Drummond 556 
 
 Sweet Spring, thou turn'st with all thy goodly train. Drummond 546 
 
 819 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Sweet Suffolk owl, so trimly dight Vautof 578 
 
 Sweet western wind, whose luck it is Herrick 92 
 
 Sweetest love, I do not go Donne 288 
 
 Sweetest of sweets, I thank you: when displeasure .... H erbert 410 
 
 Sweetest Saviour, if my soul Herrick 622 
 
 Take, O take those lips away Shakespeare 270 
 
 Tell me, deai-est, what is love ? /. Fletcher 44 
 
 Tell me not. Sweet, I am unkind Lovelace 426 
 
 Tell me, thou skilful shepherd swain Drayton 62 
 
 Tell me, what is that only thing /. Fletcher 429 
 
 Tell me where is Fancy bred Shakespeare 43 
 
 Th' Assyrian King, in peace, with foul desire Surrey 548 
 
 That time of year thou may'st in me behold Shakespeare 545 
 
 That which her slender waist confined Waller 92 
 
 The blushing rose and purple flower Massinger 328 
 
 The Boar's Head in hand bring I Anon. 593 
 
 The Boar's Head that we bring here Anon. 594 
 
 The damask meadows and the crawling streams Herrick ^77 
 
 The dew no more will weep Crashaw 570 
 
 The doubt of future foes Queen Elisabeth xxx 
 
 The doubt which ye misdeem, fair love, is vain Spenser 146 
 
 The earth, late choked with showers Lodge 529 
 
 The earth, with thunder torn, with fire blasted. .Lore? Brooke 621 
 
 The expense of spirit in a waste of shame Shakespeare 532 
 
 The forward violet thus did I chide Shakespeare 96 
 
 The gentle season of the year Anon. 568 
 
 The gentry to the King's Head T. Heywood 417 
 
 The glories of our blood and state Shirley 643 
 
 The green that you would wish me wear Turberville 310 
 
 The Indian weed withered quite Wisdome 547 
 
 The Lady Mary Villiers lies Carew 663 
 
 The lark now leaves his wat'ry nest Davenant 1 
 
 The last and greatest Herald of Heaven's King ... Drummond 607 
 
 The lopped tree in time may grow again Southwell 523 
 
 The lowest trees have tops, the ant her gall Dyer 286 
 
 The man of life upright Campion 484 
 
 The merry Cuckoo, messenger of Spring Spenser 317 
 
 The Nightingale, as soon as April bringeth Sidney 73 
 
 The ousel-cock, so black of hue Shakespeare 443 
 
 The Rose was sick and smiling died Herrick 329 
 
 The sea hath man}- thousand sands Anon. 236 
 
 The seas are quiet when the winds give o'er Waller 526 
 
 The soote season, that bud and bloom forth brings. .. .Surrey 12 
 
 The stately dames of Rome their pearls did wear . .Gascoigne 196 
 
 The sun, which doth the greatest comfort bring. .F. Beaumont 413 
 
 The time when first I fell in love Anon. 287 
 
 The ways on earth have paths and turnings known Essex 235 
 
 The world's a bubble; and the life of man Lord Bacon 501 
 
 The worldly prince doth in his sceptre hold Breton 616 
 
 Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now ... .Shakespeare 252 
 
 Thence passing forth, they shortly doe arryve Spenser 407 
 
 There are two births; the one when light Cartwright 184 
 
 There is a garden in her face Campion 46 
 
 There is a Lady sweet and kind Anon. 98 
 
 There is a jeweL which no Indian mines Anon. 516 
 
 There is none, O none, but you Campion 307 
 
 820 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 There's one request I make of Him '.Suchling 426 
 
 Therefore, above the rest Ambition sat G. Fletcher 301 
 
 These dear eyes, dear Lord, once brandons of desire 
 
 Drummond 609 
 
 They flee from me that sometime did me seek IVyat 243 
 
 They meet but with unwholesonie springs Habington 223 
 
 They that have power to hurt and will do none. .Shakespeare 531 
 Think'st thou to seduce me then with words that have no mean- 
 ing Campion 247 
 
 This day Dame Nature seemed in love Wotton 27 
 
 This Life, which seems so fair Drummond 536 
 
 This morning timely wrapt with holy fire Jonson 320 
 
 This night is my departing night Armstrong 549 
 
 This world a hunting is Drummond 540 
 
 Those eyes that hold the hand of every heart Breton 85 
 
 Those eyes that set my fancy on a fire Anon. 83 
 
 Thou art not fair for all thy red and white Campion 266 
 
 Thou divinest, fairest, brightest /. Fletcher 158 
 
 Thou more than most sweet love Jonson 89 
 
 Thou sent'st to me a heart was sound Anon. 248 
 
 Thou window, once which served for a sphere. .. .Drummond 558 
 
 Though I am young and cannot tell Jonson 272 
 
 Thrice happy he who by some shady grove Drummond 518 
 
 Thrice toss these oaken ashes in the air Campion 441 
 
 Through the shrubs as I can track Greene 217 
 
 Through yon same bending plain /. Fletcher 159 
 
 Throw away Thy rod Herbert 624 
 
 Trust not his wanton tears Chettle 150 
 
 Thus saith my Chloris bright Anon. 151 
 
 Thus, thus begin the yearly rites Jonson 40 
 
 Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts Shakespeare 553 
 
 Thy restless feet now cannot go Crashaw 635 
 
 Time is the feather'd thing Mayne 525 
 
 'Tis mirth that fills the veins with blood F. Beaumont 527 
 
 To me, fair friend, you never can be old Shakespeare 561 
 
 To music bent is my retired mind Campion 622 
 
 To those whom death again did wed Crashazv 668 
 
 Toss not my soul, O Love, 'twixt hope and tear I. .. .Anon. 210 
 
 Turn all thy thoughts to eyes Campion 56 
 
 Turn back, you wanton flyer Campion 162 
 
 Turn I my looks unto the skies Lodge 172 
 
 'Twas I that paid for all things Anon. 269 
 
 Under the greenwood tree Shakespeare 36 
 
 Underneath this sable hearse Browne or Jonson 664 
 
 Up! Youths and Virgins up, and praise Jonson 374 
 
 Upon my lap, my Sovereign sits Rowlands 597 
 
 Unquiet thoughts, your civil slaughter stint Anon. 145 
 
 Urns and odours bring away Shakespeare or Fletcher 567 
 
 Victorious men of earth, no more Shirley 642 
 
 Virtue's branches wither. Virtue pines Dekker 481 
 
 We be three poor mariners Ravenscroft 429 
 
 We, that did nothing study but the way King 266 
 
 We saw and woo'd each other's eyes Habington 171 
 
 We saw Thee in Thy balmy nest Crashaw 604 
 
 821 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Weep no more, nor sigh, nor groan 7. Fletcher 571 
 
 Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee : . . . .Greene 399 
 
 Weep with me all you that read. . Jonson 665 
 
 Weep you no more, sad fountains Anon. 573 
 
 Weep, weep, ye woodmen, wail Munday and Chettle 646 
 
 Welcome, maids of honour :....... Herrick 13 
 
 Welcome! welcome! do I sing Browne 138 
 
 Were I as base as is the lowly plain. Sylvester . 117 
 
 Were my heart as some men's are, thy errors would not move 
 
 me Campion 1 79 
 
 What conscience, say, is it in thee .Herrick 157 
 
 What bird so sings, yet so does wail? Lyly 11 
 
 What delights can they enjoy /. Daniel 216 
 
 What doth it serve to see Sun's burning face Drummond 639 
 
 What guile is this, that those her golden tresses Spenser 88 
 
 What I shall leave thee none can tell Corbet 514 
 
 What if a day, or month, or year .Campion 505 
 
 What needs complaints . .Herrick, 671 ■ 
 
 What pleasures have great princes Anon. 347 
 
 What poor astronomers are they . .Anon. 87 
 
 What should I say ? IVyat 265 
 
 What sweeter music can we bring Herrick . 594 
 
 What sweet relief the showers to thirsty plants we see. .Grimald 167 
 
 Whenas in silks my Julia goes Herrick 91 
 
 Whenas man's life, the light of human lust .Lord Brooke 541 
 
 When as the rye reached to the chin Peele 156 
 
 When daffodils begin to peer Shakespeare 14 
 
 When daisies pied and violets blue Shakespeare 442 
 
 When, dearest, I but think of thee Suckling 218 
 
 When first mine eyes did view and mark Hunnis 257 
 
 When God at first made man Herbert 483 
 
 When I a verse shall make Herrick 416 
 
 When I behold a forest spread Herrick 196 
 
 When I do count the clock that tells the time Shakespeare 560 
 
 When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced Shakespeare 229 
 
 When I survey the bright Habington 580 
 
 When icicles hang by the wall Shakespeare 563 
 
 When in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes. .. .Shakespeare 169 
 
 When in her face mine eyes I fix Sterling 137 
 
 When in the chronicle of wasted time Shakespeare 122 
 
 When Love on time and measure makes his ground. .. .Anon. 268 
 
 When Love with unconfined wings Lovelace 186 
 
 When men shall find thy flow'r, thy glory, pass S. Daniel 242 
 
 When that I was and a little tiny boy Shakespeare 402 
 
 When to the sessions of sweet silent thought. .... .Shakespeare 554 
 
 When thou must home to shades of underground. . . .Campion 559 
 
 When thou, poor Excommunicate. Carew 253 
 
 When whispering strains with weeping wind Strode 403 
 
 Where dost thou careless lie. Jonson 472 
 
 Where the bee sucks, there suck I Shakespeare 335 
 
 Where wards are weak and foes encount'ring strong. .Southwell 496 
 
 Whether men do laugh or weep . .Campion 535 
 
 While that the sun with his beams hot Anon. 245 
 
 Who can live in heart so glad , . .Breton 343 
 
 Who doth desire that chaste his wife should be ...Sidney 520 
 
 Who grace for zenith had .Lord Brooke 474- 
 
 Who hath his fancy pleased...... Sidney 81 
 
 822, 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Who is it that, this dark night Sidney 582 
 
 Who is Silvia ? What is she Shakespeare 183 
 
 Who, Virtue, can thy power forget Jonson 528 
 
 Whoe'er she be Crashaw 109 
 
 Whoever comes to shroud me, do not harm Donne 648 
 
 Whoever thinks or hopes of love' for love Anon. 155 
 
 Why canst thou not, as others do /. Daniel 155 
 
 Why I tie about thy wrist Herrick 197 
 
 Why should this a desert be ? Shakespeare 126 
 
 Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Suckling 281 
 
 Wilt thou forgive that sin, where I begun Donne 616 
 
 Will you buy any tape Shakespeare 421 
 
 Wit's perfection. Beauty's wonder F. Davison 656 
 
 With fair Ceres, Queen of Grain T. Heywood 562 
 
 With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies ... 5t^n^3> 587 
 
 Would'st thou hear what man can say Jonson 665 
 
 Wounded I am, and dare not seek relief Anon. 235 
 
 Wrong not, sweet Empress of my heart Raleigh 176 
 
 Ye blushing virgins happy are Hahington 184 
 
 Ye buds of Brutus' land, courageous youth, now play your 
 
 parts Gilford 433 
 
 Ye bubbling springs that gentle music makes Anon. 45 
 
 Ye have been fresh and green Herrick 17 
 
 Ye Highlands and ye Lawlands! .Anon. 669 
 
 Ye learned Sisters, which have oftentimes Spenser 358 
 
 Ye little birds that sit and sing T. Heywood 48 
 
 Yet if his Majesty our Sovereign lord Anon. 631 
 
 You brave, heroic minds Drayton 430 
 
 You meaner beauties of the night Wotton 104 
 
 You spotted snakes with double tongue Shakespeare 444 
 
 You virgins that did late despair Shirley 213 
 
 Your beauty, ripe and calm and fresh Davenant 553 
 
 Zephyrus brings the time that sweetly scenteth Anon. 324 
 
 823 
 
jyi^ 1 190?