Sure you have made me passing glad To choose you for my best beloved: XLI A RENUNCIATION F women could be fair, and yet not fond, Iow that their love were firm, not fickle still, I would not marvel that they make men bond To mark the choice they make, and how they change, Yet for disport we fawn and flatter both, XLII 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, Thou dost not bite so nigh Though thou the waters warp, Thy sting is not so sharp As friend remember'd not. 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. XLIII W. Shakespeare MADRIGAL Y 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 surprize, Late having deck'd with beauty's rose his tomb, Disdains to crop a weed, and will not come. W. Drummond 33 XLIV DIRGE OF LOVE 'OME away, come away, Death, Fly away, fly away, breath; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. laid; My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, My part of death no one so true Not a flower, not a flower sweet Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown: A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O where Sad true lover never find my grave, W. Shakespeare F XLV FIDELE EAR no more the heat o' the sun Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Golden lads and girls all must, 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. Fear no more the lightning flash Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone; Fear not slander, censure rash; Thou hast finish'd joy and moan: All lovers young, all lovers must Consign to thee, and come to dust. W. Shakespeare F XLVI A SEA DIRGE ULL fathom five thy father lies: Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes : But doth suffer a sea-change Ding, dong, Bell. W. Shakespeare XLVII A LAND DIRGE ALL for the robin-redbreast and the wren, CALL 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 F. Webster XLVIII POST MORTEM Thou survive my well-contented day cover, And shalt by fortune once more re-survey dust shall Compare them with the bettering of the time, O then vouchsafe me but this loving thought'Had my friend's muse grown with this growing age, A dearer birth than this his love had brought, To march in ranks of better equipage : |