The tricks and toys that in them lurk,

The cock that treads them shall not know. Have you not heard it said full oft,

A woman's nay doth stand for nought?

Think women still to strive with men,
To sin, and never for to saint:
Here is no heaven; they holy then
When time with age shall them attaint.
Were kisses all the joys in bed,
One woman would another wed.

But, soft enough, too much, I fear;

For, if my mistress hear my song,
She will not stick to warm my ear,
To teach my tongue to be so long :
Yet will she blush, here be it said,
To hear her secrets so bewray'd.

15.

As it fell upon a day

In the merry month of May,

Sitting in a pleasant shade

Which a grove of myrtles made,

Beasts did leap, and birds did sing,

Trees did grow, and plants did spring;
Every thing did banish moan,
Save the nightingale alone:
She, poor bird, as all forlorn,
Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn,
And there sung the dolefull'st ditty,
That to hear it was great pity:
Fie, fie, fie, now would she cry ;

Tereu, tereu, by-and-by ;
That to hear her so complain,
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,
Careless of thy sorrowing.
Even so, poor bird, like thee,
None alive will pity me.

Whilst as fickle Fortune smiled,
Thou and I were both beguiled.
Every one that flatters thee

Is no friend in misery.

Words are easy, like the wind;

Faithful friends are hard to find:

Every man will be thy friend

Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend ;
But, if store of crowns be scant,
No man will supply thy want.
If that one be prodigal,
Bountiful they will him call,
And with such-like flattering,
Pity but he were a king:
If he be addict to vice,
Quickly him they will entice;

If to women he be bent,

They have him at commandment : 9

9 Commandment is here of four syllables, commandement.

THE PHOENIX AND TURTLE.

LET the bird of loudest lay,
On the sole Arabian tree,
Herald sad and trumpet be,

To whose sound chaste wings obey.

But thou shrieking harbinger,

Foul precurrer of the fiend,

Augur of the fever's end,

To this troop come thou not near!

From this session interdict

Every fowl of tyrant wing,

Save the eagle, feather'd king:

Keep the obsequy so strict.

Let the priest in surplice white,
That defunctive music can,10
Be the death-divining swan,
Lest the requiem lack his right.

And thou treble-dated crow,

That thy sable gender makest
With the breath thou givest and takest,
'Mongst our mourners shalt thou go.

10 That is, who understands or can sing funereal music.

Here the anthem doth commence : Love and constancy is dead;

Phoenix and the turtle fled

In a mutual flame from hence.

So they loved, as love in twain
Had the essence but in one ;
Two distincts, division none:
Number there in love was slain.

Hearts remote, yet not asunder;
Distance, and no space was seen
"Twixt this turtle and his queen :
But in them it were a wonder.

So between them love did shine,
That the turtle saw his right
Flaming in the phoenix' sight;
Either was the other's mine.

Property was thus appall'd,
That the self was not the same;
Single nature's double name
Neither two nor one was call'd.

Reason, in itself confounded,
Saw division grow together,
To themselves yet either neither,
Simple were so well compounded ;

That it cried, How true a twain
Seemeth this concordant one!
Love hath reason, reason none,
If what parts can so remain.