:

Mocks married men, for 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!

II

When 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:-

To-whit!

To-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 :-
To-whit!

To-who-a merry note,

:

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

William Shakespeare.

108

UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE

UNDER 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.

Who doth ambition shun,
And loves to live 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.

William Shakespeare.

109

BLOW, BLOW THOU WINTER WIND

BLOW, 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!

William Shakespeare.

HARK! 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!

William Shakespeare.

112

FEAR NO MORE

FEAR 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.

Fear no more the lightning flash,
Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone !
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finished joy and moan:
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.

William Shakespeare.

113

A DIRGE

FULL 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 ;

Hark! now I hear them,-ding-dong, bell!

William Shakespeare.

114

WHERE THE BEE SUCKS

WHERE 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.

William Shakespeare.

115

WHEN, IN DISGRACE

WHEN, 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 possess'd,
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.
William Shakespeare.

116

WHEN то THE SESSIONS

WHEN 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,