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“Teru, teru!" by-and-by. That to hear her so complain
15 Scarce I could from tears refrain; For her griefs so lively shown Made me think upon mine own. 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,
25 Careless of thy sor
sorrowing; Even so, poor bird, like thee, None alive will pity me.
HAPPY SHEPHERDS, SIT AND SEE
PHYLLIDA'S LOVE-CALL TO HER
CORYDON, AND HIS REPLYING
Titan shineth clear.
Who is it that I hear?
Arise then, arise then;
Arise and keep thy flock with me! Cor. Phyllida, 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.
Sport for thee to make. Puyl. Here are threads, my true love, fine as silk,
15 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. 20
Her body small;
1 Words supposed to resemble the cry of the nightingale.
When lusty bloods in fresh array
Hear ten months after of the play:
And this is Love, as I hear say. MELI. Yet what is Love, good shepherd, sain ? Faust. It is a sunshine mix'd with rain,
It is a tooth-ache, or like pain,
The lass saith no, and would full fain:
And this is Love, as I hear sain.
A pretty kind of sporting fray,
And this is Love, as I hear say.
A prize that passeth to and fro,
And he that proves shall find it so:
DAMELUS' SONG TO HIS DIAPHENIA
What if I beat the wanton boy
With many a rod ?
Because a god.
– Thom. LODGE (15587-1625)
THE HERDMAN'S HAPPY LIFE
And we will sit upon the rocks,
- Chr. Marlow (1564-1593)
What pleasure have great princes
More dainty to their choice
In quiet life rejoice?
Are void of all deceit;
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,
His ship into the east,
They 'steem it not a straw;
Is of itself a law;
THE NYMPH'S REPLY TO THE
Oh, 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.
30 -OUT OF M. BIRD'S SET SONGS
If all the world and love were young,
ut could youth last, and love still breed,
THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS
Come live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove, That valleys, groves, hills, and fields, Woods, or steepy mountains yields.
THE SHEPHERD'S RESOLUTION IN
Finding their enemy to be so curst,
If Jove himself be subject unto Love,
Then may I love my shepherdess by right,
This dismal cry rings sadly in her ear,
part: Like soldiers, when their captain once doth
yield, They basely fly and dare not stay the field.
If Pluto could by Love be drawn from hell
Then how much more should I adore the sight
light? If country Pan night 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:
My shepherdess why should not I love still, 17 On whom nor gods nor men can gaze their fill?
- Thom. WATSON (15577-1592)
Thus stands she in a trembling ecstasy;
899 And with that word she spied the hunted boar,
Whose frothy mouth, bepainted all with red,
This way she runs, and now she will no further,
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE (1564
A thousand spleens bear her a thousand ways;
Full of respects, yet nought at all respecting;
This said, she hasteth to a myrtle grove,
Anon she hears them chant it lustily,
And as she runs, the bushes in the way
Like a milch doe, whose swelling dugs do ache,
Here kennell'd in a brake she finds a hound,
And here she meets another sadly scowling,
When he hath ceased his ill-resounding noise, Another flap-mouth'd mourner, black and grim, Against the welkin volleys out his voice; 921 Another and another answer him,
Clapping their proud tails to the ground below, Shaking their scratch'd ears, bleeding as they
By this, she hears the hounds are at a bay;
880 Even so the timorous yelping of the hounds
Appals her senses and her spirit confounds. For now she knows it is no gentle chase, But the blunt boar, rough bear, or lion proud, Because the cry remaineth in one place, Where fearfully the dogs exclaim aloud:
Look, how the world's poor people are amazed
So she at these sad signs draws up her breath