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CXLIX.

CLII. Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not,

In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn, When I, against myself, with thee partake ?

But thou art twice forsworn, to me love swearing; Do I not think on thee, when I forgot

In act thy bed-vow broke, and new faith torn, Am of myself, all tyrant, for thy sake?

In vowing new hate after new love bearing: Who hateth thee, that I do call my friend?

But why of two oaths' breach do I accuse thee
On whom frown'st thou, that I do fawn upon? When I break twenty? I am perjur'd most;
Nay, if thou low'rst on me, do I not spend

For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee,
Revenge upon myself with present moan? And all my honest faith in thee is lost:
What merit do I in myself respect,

For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness,
That is so proud thy service to despise,

Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy; When all my best doth worship thy defect,

And, to enlighten thee, gave eyes to blindness,
Commanded by the motion of thine eyes!

Or made them swear avainst ihe thing they see;
But, love, hatron, for now I know thy mind; For I have sworn thee fair: more perjur'd Í,
Those that can see thou lov'st, and I am blind. To swear, against the truth, so foul a lie!
CL.

CLIII.
0, from what power hast thou this powerful might, Cupid laid by his brand, and fell asleep;
With insuthiciency my heart to sway?

A maid of Dian's this advantage found, To make me give the lie to my true sight,

And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep
And swear that brightness doth not grace the day? In a cold vallev-fountain of that ground;
Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill, Which borrow'd from this holy fire of love
That in the very refuse of thy deeds

A dateless lively heat, still to endure,
There is such strength and warrantise of skill, And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove,
That in my mind thy worst all best exceeds ? Against strange maladies a sovereign cure.
Who taught thee how to make me love thee more, But al my mistress' eye love's brand new fir'd,
The more I hear and see just cause of hate? The boy for trial needs would touch my breast
O, though I love what others do abhor,

I sick withal, the help of bath desir'd,
With others thou should'st not abhor my state; And thither hied, a sad distemper'd guest,
If thy unworthiness rais'd love in me,

But found no cure : the bath for my help lies
More worthy I to be belov'd of thee.

Where Cupid got new fire; my mistress' eyes.
CLI.

CLIV.
Love is too young to know what conscience is; The little love-god lying once asleep,
Yet who knows not, conscience is born of love? Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand,
Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,

Whilst many nymphs that vow'd chaste lifo to keep,
Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove. Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand
For, thou betraying me, I do betray

The fairest votary took up that fire
My nobler part to my great body's treason ; Which many legions of true hearts had warm’d;
My soul doth tell my body that he may

And so the general of hot desire
Triumph in 'love; fiesh stays no farther reason; Was sleeping by a virgin hand disarm'd.
But rising at thy name, doth point out thee This brand she quenched in a cool well by,
As his triumphant prize.

Proud of this pride, Which from love's fire took heat perpetual,
He is contenied thy poor drudge to be,

Growing a bath and healthful remedy To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.

For men diseas'd; but I, my mistress' thrall, No want of conscience hold it that I call

Came there for cure, and this by that I prove, Her-love, for whose dear love I rise and fall. Love's fire heats water, water cools not love.

A LOVER'S COMPLAIN T.

From off a hill whose concave womb re-worded
A plainiful story from a sistering vale,
My spirits to attend this double voice accorded,
And down I lay to list the sad-lun'd tale:
Ere long espy'd a fickle maid full pale,
Tearing of papers, breaking rings a-twain,
Storming her world with sorrow's wind and rain.
Upon her head a platted hive of straw,
Which fortitied her visage from the sun,
Whereon the thought might think sometime it saw
The carcase of a beauty spent and done.
Time had not scythed all that youth begin,
Nor youth all quit; but, spite of heaven's fell rage,
Some beauty peep'd through lattice of sear'd age.
Ofi did she heave her napkin to her eyne,
Which on it had conceited characters,
Laund'ring the silken figures in the brine
That season'd wo had pelleted in tears,
And often reading whai contents it bears;
As often shrieking umdistinguish'd wo,
In clamours of all size, both high and low.

Sometimes her leveli'd cyes their carriage ride,
As they did battery to the spheres intenů.
Sometine diverted their poor balls are tyd
To the orbed earth; sometimes they do extend
Their view right on; anon their gazes lend
To every place at once, and no where fix'd,
The mind and sight distractedly comnix'd.
Her hair, nor loose, nor tyd in formal plat,
Proclaim'd in her a careless hand of pride ;
For some', untucku, descended her sheard hat,
Hanging her pal and pined cheek beside;
Some in her threaded tillet still did bide,
And, true to bondage, would not break from thence,
Though slackly braided in loose negligence.
A thousand favour: from a marind she drew
Of amber, crystal, and of bedded jet,
Which one by one she in a river threw,
Upon whose weeping margent she was set;
Like usury, applying wet 10 wet,
Or monarch's hands, that let not bounty fall
Where wani crics some, but where excess begs all.

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Of folded schedules had she many a one,

But quickly on this side the verdict went ; Which she perus’d, sigh’d, tore, and gave the flood; His real hábitude gave life and grace Crack'd many a ring of posied gold and bone, To appertainings and to ornament, Bidding them find their sepulchres in mud; Accomplish'd in himself, not in his case : Found yet more letters sailly pennd in blood, All aids themselves made fairer by their place; With sloided silk feat and affectedly

Came for additions, yet their purpos'd inim Enswath'd, and seald to curious secrecy.'

Piec'd not his grace, but were all grac'd by him. These often bath'd she in her fuxive eyes,

So on the tip of his subduing tongue And often kiss'd, and often 'gan to tear;

All kind of arguments and question deep, Cry'd, O false blood! thou register of lies,

All replication prompi, and reason strong,
What unapproved witness dost thou bear!
Ink would have seemd more black and damned here ! To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep,

For his advantage still did wake and sleep:
This said, in top of rage the lines she rents, He had the dialect and different skill,
Big discontent so breaking their contents.

Catching all passions in his craft of will;
A reverend man that graz'd his cattle nigh,

That he did in the general bosom reign (Sometime a blusterer, that the rufile knew

Of young, of old ; and sexes both enchanted,
Of court, of city, and had let go by

To dwell with him in thoughts, or to remain
The swiftest hours,) observed as they flew;
Towards this afflicted faney fastly drew;

In personal duty, following where he haunted:

Consents bewitch'd, ere he desire, have granted ; And, privileg'd by age, desires to know

And dialogu'd from him what he would say, In brief, the grounds and motives of her wo.

Ask'd their own wills, and made their wills obey. So slides he down upon his grained bat, And comely-distant sits he by her side;

Many there were that did his picture get, When he again desires her, being sat,

To serve their eyes, and in it put their mind;

Like fools that in the imagination set
Her grievance with his hearing to divide :
If that from him there may be aught apply'd,

The goodly objects which abroad they find
Which may her suffering ecstasy assuage,

Of lands and mansions, their's in thought assign'd; "Tis promis'd in the charity of

And labouring in more pleasures to bestow them, age.

Than the true gouty landlord which doth owe them Father, she says, though in me you behold

S many have, that never touch'd his hand, The injury of many a blasting hour,

Sweetly suppos'd them mistress of his heart. Let it not tell your judgment I am old;

My woful self, that did in freedom stand, Not age, but sorrow, over me hath power:

And was my own fee-simple, (not in part,) I might as yet have been a spreading flower, What with his art in youth, and youth in art, Fresh to myself, if I had self-apply'd

Threw my affections in his charmed power, Love to myself, and to no love beside.

Reservd the stalk, and gave him all my flower. But wo is me! too early I attended

Yet did I not, as some my equals did, A youthful suit (it was to gain my grace)

Demand of him, nor being desired, yielded; or one by nature's outwards so commended, Finding myself in honour so forbid, That maidens' eyes stuck over all his face!

With safest distance I mine honour shielded : Love lack'd a dwelling, and made him her place; Experience for me many bulwarks builded And when in his fair parts she did abide,

Of proofs new-bleeding, which remaind the fol She was new lodg’d, and newly deified.

of this false jewel, and his amorous spoil. His browny locks did hang in crooked curls; But ah! who ever shunn'd by precedent And every light occasion of the wind

The destin'd ill she must herself assay ? Upon his lips their silken parcels hurls.

Or forc d examples, 'gainst her own content, What's sweet to do, to do will aptly find ;

To put the by-pass d perils in her way?
Each eye that saw him did enchant the mind; Counsel may stop a while what will not stay;
For on his visage was in little drawn,

For when we rage, advice is often seen
What largeness thinks in paradise was sawn. By blunting us to make our wits more keen.
Small show of inan was yet upon his chin ; Nor gives it satisfaction to our blood,
His phænix down began but to appear,

That we must curb it upon others' proof;
Like unshorn velvet on that termless skin,

To be forbid the sweets that seem so good, Whose bare out-bragg'd the web it seem'd to wear; For fear of harms that preach in our behoof. Yet show'd his visage by that cost most dear ; ( appetite, from judgment stand aloof! And nice affection's wavering stood in doubt The one a palate hath that needs will taste, If best 'twere as it was, or best without,

Though reason weep, and cry—it is thy last. His qualities were beauteous as his form,

For further I could say, this man's untrue, For maiden-tongu'd he was, and thereof free; And knew the patterns of his foul beguiling ; Yet, if men mov'd him, was he such a storm Heard where his plants in others' orchards grew As oft 'twixt May and April is to see,

Saw how deceits were gilded in his smiling; When winds breathe sweet, unruly though they be. Knew vows were ever brokers to defiling; His rudeness so with his authoriz'd youth

Thought, characters, and words, merely but art, Did livery falseness in a pride of truth.

And bastards of his foul adulterate heart. Well could he ride, and often men would

And long upon these terms I held my city.

say, That horse his mettle from his rider takes :

Till thus he 'gan besiege me: "Gentle maid, Proud of subjection, noble by the sudy,

Have of my suffering youth some feeling pity, What rounds, what bounds, what course, what stop he and be not of my holy vows afraid : makes !

That's to you sworn, io none was ever said; And controversy hence a question takes,

For feasts of love I have been callid unto, Whether the horse by him became his deed,

Till now did ne'er invite, nor never vow. Or he his manage by the well-doing steed.

All my offences that abroad you see,

Are errors of the blood, none of the mind; 1 With sleided silk, feat and affectedly

Love made them not: with acture they may be, Engwathed and sealed to curious secrecy.'

Where neither party is nor true nor kind: Anciently, the ends of a piece of narrow ribbon were They sought their shame that so their shame did find, placed under the seals of letters, to connect them more and so much less of shame in me remains, closely.- Sleevens.

By how much of me their reproach contains.

Among the many that mine eyes have

seen,

My parts had power to charm a sacred sun,
Not one whose filame my lieart so much as warm'd, Who, disciplin'd and dieted in grace,
Or my affection put to the smallest teen,

Believ'd her eyes, when they to assail begun,
Or any of my leisures ever charm'd:

All vows and consecrations giving place : Harm have I done to them, but ne'er was harm'd; O most potential love! vow, bond, nor space, Kept hearts in liveries, but mine own was free, In thee hath neither sting, knot, nor confine, And reign'd commanding in his monarchy.

For thou art all, and all things else are thine. Look here, what tributes wounded fancies sent me, When thou impressest, what are precepts worth Of paled pearls, and rubies red as blood;

Of stale example? When thou wilt intiame, Figuring that they their passions likewise lent me How coldly those impediments stand forth Of grief and blushes, aptly understood

Of wealth, of filial fear, law, kindred, fame? In bloodless white and the encrimson’d mood; Love's arms are peace, 'gainst rule, 'gainst sense, Effects of terror and dear modesty,

'gainst shame; Encamp'd in hearts, but fighting outwardly. And sweetens, in the suffering pangs it bears, "And lo! behold, these talents of their hair,

The aloes of all forces, shocks, and fears. With twisted metal amorously impleachd,

Now all these hearts that do on mine depend, I have receiv'd from many a several fair,

Feeling it break, with bleeding groans they pine; (Their kind acceptance weepingly beseech'd,) And supplicant their sighs to you extend, With the annexions of fair gems enrich'd,

To leave the battery that you make 'gainst mine, And deep-brain'd sonnets, that did amplify

Lending soft audience to my sweet design, Each stone's dear nature, worth, and quality. And credent soul to that strong-bonded oath The diamond; why 'twas beautiful and hard,

That shall prefer and undertake my troth." Whereto his invis'd properties did tend;

This said, his watery eyes he did dismount, The deep green emerald, in whose fresh regard Whose sights till then were leveld on my face; Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend; Each cheek a river running from a fount

The heaven-hued sapphire and the opal blend With brinish current downward Row'd apace : With objects manifold: each several stone, O, how the channel to the stream gave grace! With wit well blazon'd, smild or made some moan. Who, glaz'd with crystal gate the glowing roses Lo! all these trophies of affections hot,

That flame through water which their hue incloses. Of pensiv'd and subdued desires the tender, 0, father, what a hell of witchcraft lies Nature hath charg'd me that I hoard them not, In the sma!l orb of one particular tear? But yield them up where I myself must render, But with the inundation of the eyes That is, to you, my origin and ender:

What rocky heart to water will not wear? For these, of force, must your oblations be,

What breast so cold that is not warmed here? Since I their altar, you enpatron me.

O, cleft effect! cold modesty, hot wrath, O, then, advance of yours that phraseless hand,

Both fire from hence and chill extincture hath!
Whose white weighs down the airy scale of praise; For lo! his passion, but an art of craft,
Take all these similes to your own command, Even there resolvd my reason into tears:
Hallow'd with sighs that burning lungs did raise ; There my while stole of chastity I daff'd,
What me, your minister, for you obeys,

Shook off my sober guards and civil fears ;
Works under you; and to your audit comes Appear to him, as he to me appears,
Their distract parcels in combined sums.

All melting; though our drops this difference bore, Lo! this device was sent me from a nun,

His poison'd me, and mine did him restore. Or sister sanctified, of holiest note;

In him a plenitude of subtle matter, Which late her noble suit in court did shun, Applied to cautels, all strange forms receives, Whose rarest havings made the blossoms dote; of burning blushes, or of weeping water, For she was sought by spirits of richest coat, Or swooning paleness; and he takes and leaves, But kept cold distance, and did thence remove, In either's apiness, as it best deceives To spend her living in eternal love.

To blush at speeches rank to weep at woes, But O, my sweet, what labour is't to leave Or to turn white and swou. at tragic shows. The thing we have not, mastering what not That not a heart which in his level came, strives ?

Could'scape the hail of his all-hurting aim, Paling the place which did no form receive;

Showing fair nature is both kind and iame; Playing patient sports in unconstrained gyves: And veil'd in them, did win whom he would maim: She that her fame so to herself contrives,

Against the thing he sought he would exclaim; The scars of battle scapeth by the flight,

When he most burn'd in heart-wish'd luxury, And makes her absence valiant, not her might. He preach'd pure maid, and prais'd cold chastity. O pardon me, in that my boast is true;

Thus merely with the garment of a Grace The accident which brought me to her eye,

The naked and concealed fiend he cover'd; Upon the moment did her force subdue,

That the unexperienc'd gave the tempter place, And now she would the caged cloister fly;

Which, like a cherubin, above them hover'd. Religious love put out religion's eye:

Who, young and simple, would not be so lover'd ? Not to be tempted, would she be immurd,

Ah me! I fell; and yet do question make, And now, to tempt all, liberty procur'd.

What I should do again for such a sake. How mighty then you are, O, hear me tell !

0, that infected moisture of his eye, The broken bosoms that to me belong,

O, that false fire which in his cheek so glow'd, Have emptied all their fountains in my well, 0, that forc'd thunder from his heart did fly, And mine I pour your ocean all among:

0, that sad breath his spongy lungs bestow'd, I strong o'er them, and you o'er me being strong, o, all that borrow'd motion, seeming ow'd, Must for your victory us all congest,

Would yet again betray the fore betray'd, As compound love to physic your cold breast. And new pervert a reconciled maid!

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THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM.

Youth like summer bravo,

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, 1 do defy thee;
u, sweet shepherd, hie thee,
For methinkst thou stay'st too long.

VI.

*

I. SWEET Cytherea, sitting by a brook, With young Adonis, lovely, fresh and green, Did court the lad with many a lovely look, Such looks as none could look but beauty's queen. She told him stories to delight his ear; She show'd him favours to allure his eye; To win his heart, she touch'd him here and there : Touches so sofi still conquer chastity. But whether unripe years did want concein, Or he refus'd to take her figur'd proffer, The tender nibbler would not touch the bait, But smile and jest at every gentle offer: Then fell she on her back, fair queen, and toward; He rose and ran away; ah, fool too froward ?

II. Scarce had the sun dried up the dewy morn, And scarce the herd gone io the hedge for shade, When Cytherea, all in love forlorn, A longing larriance for Adonis made, Under an osier growing by a brook, A brook, where Adon usd to cool his spleen: Hot was the day; she hotter that did look For his approach, that often there had been. Anon he comes and throws his mantle by, And stood stark naked on the brook's green brim; The sun look'd on the world with glorious eye, Yet not so wistly, as this queerf on him : He spying her, bounc'd in, whereas he stood; O, Jove, quoth sho, why was not I a flood ?

III.
Fair was

the
morn,

when the fair queen of love,
*
Paler for sorrow than her milk-white dove,
For Adon's sake, a youngster proud and wild ;
Her stand she takes upon a steep-up bill:
Anon Adonis comes with horn and hounds;
She, silly queen, with more than love's good will,
Forbade the boy he should not pass those grounds ;
Once, quoth she, did I see a fair sweet youth
Here in these brakes deep-wounded with a boar,
Deep in the thigh, a speciacle of ruch!
See, in my thigh, quoth she, here was the sore;
She showed hers; he saw more wounds than one,
And blushing fled, and left her all alone.

IV.
Venus with young Adonis sitting by her,
Under a myrtle shade began to woo him ;
She told the youngling how god Mars did try her,
And as he fell to her, so fell she to him.
Even thus, quoth she, the warlike god embrac'd me;
And then she clipp'd Adonis in her arms;
Lven thus, quoth she, the warlike god unlac'd mc;
As if the boy should use like loving charms:
Even thus, quoth she, he seized on my lips,
And with her lips on his did act the seizure;
And as she fetched breath, away he skips,
And would not take her meaning nor her pleasure.
Ah! that I had my lady at this bay,
To kiss and chip me till I run away!

V.
Crabbed age and youth

Cannot live together;
Youth is full of pleasanco,

Age is full of caro:
Youth like summer morn,

Age like winter weather

Sweet rose, fair flower, untimely pluck’d, soon faded,
Pluck'd in the bud, and faded in the spring!
Bright orient pearl, alack! too timely shaded!
Fair creature, killid too soon by death's sharp sting!
Like a green plumb that hangs upon a tree,
And falls, through wind, before the fall should be.
I weep for thee, and yet no cause I have;
For why ? thou left'st me nothing in thy will.
And yei thou leftist me more than I did crave,
For why? I craved nothing of thee still :
O, yes, dear friend, I pardon crave of thee:
Thy discontent thou didst bequeath to me.

VII.
Fair is my love, but not so fair as fickle,
Mild as a dove, but neither true nor trusty
Brighter than glass, and yet, as glass is, brittle,
Sofier than wax, and yet, as iron, rusty:
A lily pale, with damask die to grace her,
None fairer, nor none falser to deface her.
Her lips to mine how often hath she join'd,
Between each kiss her oaths of true love swearing!
How many tales to please me hath she coin'd,
Dreading my love, the loss thereof still fearing!
Yet in the midst of all her pure protestings,
Her faith, her oaths, her tears, and all were jestings.
She burn'd with love, as straw with fire flameth;
She burn'd out love, as soon as straw out-burneth;
She fram'd the love, and yet she foild the framing ;
She bade love last, and yet she fell a turning.
Was this a lover, or a lecher whether?
Bad in the best, though excellent in neither.

VIII. Did 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. My vow was breath, and breath a vapour is ; Then thou, fair sun, which on my earth doth shine, Exhal'st this vapour vow; in thee it is : If broken, then, it is no fault of inine. If by me broke, what fool is not so wise To break an oath, to win a paradise ?

IX. If love make me for worn, how shall I swear to lose ? O, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vowd: Though to myself forsworn, to thee Til constant prove;

[bow't. Those thoughts, to me like oaks, to thee like osiers

Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine eyes, Thus art with arms contending was victor of the day, Where all those pleasures live, that art can compre- Which by a gift of learning did bear the maid away; hend.

Then lullaby, the learned man hath got the lady gay; If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suffice; For now my song is ended. Well learned is that tongue that well can thee com

XIV. mend; * All ignorant that soul that sees thee without wonder; On a day (alack the day :) Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire:

Love, whose month was ever May, Thine eye Jove's lightning seems, thy voice his

Spy'd a blossom passing fair,
'dreadful thunder,

Playing in the wanton air:
Which (not to anger bent) is music and sweet fire. Through the velvet leaves the wind,
Celestial as thou art, O, do not love that wrong,

All unseen, 'gan passage find;
To sing the heavens' praise with such an earthly

That the lover, sick to death,

Wish'd himself the heaven's breath.
tongue.

Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow •
X.

Air, would I might triumph so!
Beauty is bnt a vain and doubtful good,

But alas! my hand hath sworn A shining gloss, that fadeth suddenly;

Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn : A flower that dies, when first it 'gins to bud;

Vow, alack, for youth unmeet A brittle glass that's broken presently;

Youth, so apt to pluck a sweet. A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower,

Do not call'it sin in me, Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour.

That I am forsworn for thee;

Thou for whom Jove e'en would swear And as good lost are seld or never found,

Juno but an Ethiope were ; As faded gloss no rubbing will refresh,

And deny himself for Jove, As flowers dead, lie wither'd on the ground,

Turning mortal for thy love.
As broken glass no cement can redress,

XV.
So beauty blemish'd once, for ever's lost.
In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost.

My flocks feed not,

My ewes breed not,
XI.

My rams speed not,
Good night, good rest, Ah! neither be my share,

All is amiss : She bade good night, that kept my rest away;

Love's denying, And datt'd me to a cabin hang'd with care,

Faith's defying, To descant on the doubts of my decay.

Heart's renying
Farewell, quoth she, and come again to-morrow;

Causer of this.
Fare well I could not, for I suppå with sorrow. All my merry jigs are quite forgot,

All my lady's love is lost, God wot:
Yurat my parting sweetly did she smile,

Where her faith was firmly fix'd in love, In scorn or friendship, nill I construe whether :

There a nay is plac'd without remove. "Tmay be, she joy'd to jest at my exile,

One silly cross Tmay be, again to make me wander thither;

Wrought all my loss; Wander, a word fur shadows like thyself,

O, frowning fortune, cursed, fickle damo!
As take the pain, but cannot pluck the pelf.

For now I see,
XII.

Inconstancy

More in women than in men remain.
Lord, how mine eves throw gazes to the cast !
My heart doth charge the watch; the morning rise

In black mourn I,
Doth cite cach moving sense from ille rest.

All fears scorn I, Nor daring trust the office of mine eyes,

Love hath forlorn me, While Philomela sits and sings, I sit and mark,

Living in thrall : And wish her lays were tuned like the lark;

Heart is bleeding,

All help needing, For she doth welcome day-light with her ditty,

(O cruel speeding!) And drives away dark dismal-dreaming night:

Fraughted with gall !
The night so pack’d, I post unto my pretty My shepherd's pipe can sound no deal,
Heart hath his hope, and eyes their wished sight; My wether's bell rings doleful knell;
Sorrow chang'd 10 solace, solace mix'd with sorrow; My curtail dog that wont to have play'd,
For why? she sigh'd, and bade me come to-morrow. Plays not at all, but seems afraid ;
Were I with her, the night would post too soon;

My sighs so deep,

Procure to weep, But now are minutes added to the hours ;

In howling-wise, to see my doleful plight. To spite me now, each minute seems a moon;

How sighs resound Yel not for me, shine sun to succour flowers !

Through harkless ground, Pack night, peep day, good day, of night now borrow:

Like a thousand vanquish'd men in bloody fight! Sort, mig'i, to-night, and length thyself to-morrow.

Clear wells spring not,
XUI

Sweet birds sing not,
It was a lording's daughter, the farest one of threr, Loud bells ring not
Trat liked of her masier as well as well might be,

Cheerfully; Tuil looking on an En,lishman, the fairest eye could Herds stand weeping, see,

Focks all sleeping, II er fancy fell a turning.

(did fight, Nymphs back creeping Lm was the combat dubiful, that love with love Fearfully: To leave the master loveless, or kill the gallant All our pleasure known to us poor swai knight:

All our merry meetings on the plains, T) put in priiuce either, a'as, it was a spite All our evening sport from us is fled, sto the siliy dainsel.

All our love is loat, for love is dead.

Farewell, sweet lass, Bit one must be refused, more mickle was the pain,

Thy like ne'er was, Tuat nothing could be used, to turn them both to

For a sweet content, the cause of all my moan : gain,

(disdain : Poor Coridon For of the two the tr sty knight was wounded with Must live alone, Alas, she could not help it!

Other help for him l'oee that there is nono.

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