TO DAISIES, NOT 10 SHUT SO SOON

Shut not so soon: the dull-ey'd 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.

Oh, stay but till my Julia close

Her life-begetting eye,

And let the whole world then dispose

Itself to live or die!

Robert Herrick

THE PRIMROSE

Ask 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?
I will whisper to your ears:

The sweets of love are mix'd with tears.

Ask me why this flower doth show

So yellow-green, and sickly too?
Ask me why the stalk is weak

And bending (yet it doth not break)?
I will answer: These discover
What fainting hopes are in a lover.

Robert Herrick

WELCOME, WELCOME

Welcome, welcome, do I sing,
Far more welcome than the spring;
He that parteth from you never,
Shall enjoy a spring for ever.

Love, that to the voice is near,
Breaking from your ivory pale,
Need not walk abroad to hear
The delightful nightingale.

Love, that looks still on your eyes,
Though the winter have begun
To benumb our arteries,

Shall not want the summer's sun.

Love, that still may see your cheeks,
Where all rareness still reposes,

Is a fool if e'er he seeks

Other lilies, other roses.

Love, to whom your soft lip yields,
And perceives your breath in kissing,
All the odours of the fields

Never, never shall be missing.

Love, that question would anew
What fair Eden was of old,

Let him rightly study you,
And a brief of that behold.

Welcome, welcome, then I sing,
Far more welcome than the spring;
He that parteth from you never,
Shall enjoy a spring for ever.

William Browne

THE MAID OF NEIDPATH

O lovers' eyes are sharp to see,
And lovers' ears in hearing;
And love, in life's extremity,

Can lend an hour of cheering.
Disease had been in Mary's bower
And slow decay from mourning,
Though now she sits on Neidpath's tower
To watch her Love's returning.

All sunk and dim her eyes so bright,
Her form decay'd by pining,
Till through her wasted hand, at night,
You saw the taper shining.
By fits a sultry hectic hue

Across her cheek was flying;
By fits so ashy pale she grew
Her maidens thought her dying.

Yet keenest powers to see and hear
Seem'd in her frame residing;
Before the watch-dog prick'd his ear
She heard her lover's riding;
Ere scarce a distant form was kenn'd
She knew and waved to greet him,
And o'er the battlement did bend
As on the wing to meet him.

He came - he pass'd -an heedless gaze
As o'er some stranger glancing;
Her welcome, spoke in faltering phrase,
Lost in his courser's prancing -

The castle-arch, whose hollow tone
Returns each whisper spoken,
Could scarcely catch the feeble moan
Which told her heart was broken.

Sir Walter Scott

AE FOND KISS

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!
Ae fareweel, and then for ever!

Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee!
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.
Who shall say that Fortune grieves him,
While the star of hope she leaves him?
Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me;
Dark despair around benights me.

I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy-
Naething could resist my Nancy:
But to see her was to love her,
Love but her, and love for ever.
Had we never loved sae kindly,
Had we never loved sae blindly,
Never met or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest!
Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest!
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure!
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!
Ae fareweel, alas! for ever!

Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee;
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.

Robert Burns

I FEAR THY KISSES, GENTLE MAIDEN

I fear thy kisses, gentle maiden;
Thou needest not fear mine;

My spirit is too deeply laden,
Ever to burthen thine.

I fear thy mien, thy tones, thy motion;
Thou needest not fear mine;

Innocent is the heart's devotion

With which I worship thine.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

TELL ME WHERE IS FANCY BRED

Tell me where is Fancy bred,
Or in the heart, or in the head?
How begot, how nourished?
Reply, reply.

It is engender'd 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.

William Shakespeare

I PRITHEE SEND ME BACK MY HEART

I prithee send me back my heart,
Since I cannot have thine;

For if from yours you will not part,

Why then should'st thou have mine?

Yet, now I think on't, let it lie;
To find it were in vain;
For thou'st a thief in either eye
Would steal it back again.

Why should two hearts in one breast lie,
And yet not lodge together?

O Love! where is thy sympathy

If thus our breasts thou sever?

But love is such a mystery,

I cannot find it out;

For when I think I'm best resolved

I then am most in doubt.

Then farewell care, and farewell woe;

I will no longer pine;

For I'll believe I have her heart

As much as she hath mine.

Sir John Suckling