XXXVII LOVE'S FAREWELL SINCE there's no help, come let us kiss and part, Nay I have done, you get no more of me ; And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart, Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows, Now at the last gasp of love's latest breath, Now if thou wouldst, when all have given him over, From death to life thou might'st him yet recover! M. Drayton . MY XXXVIII TO HIS LUTE Y lute, be as thou wert when thou didst grow With thy green mother in some shady grove, When immelodious winds but made thee move, And birds their ramage did on thee bestow. Since that dear Voice which did thy sounds approve, Which wont in such harmonious strains to flow, Is reft from Earth to tune those spheres above, Thy pleasing notes be pleasing notes no more, Each stroke a sigh, each sound draws forth a tear; Or if that any hand to touch thee deign, W. Drummond. XXXIX BLIND LOVE ME! what eyes hath love put in my head Which have no correspondence with true sight: Or if they have, where is my judgment fled If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote, How can it! O how can love's eye be true, O cunning Love! with tears thou keep'st me blind, Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find ! W. Shakespeare XL THE UNFAITHFUL SHEPHERDESS ́HILE that the sun with his beams hot WHILE Scorchéd the fruits in vale and mountain, Philon the shepherd, late forgot, Sitting beside a crystal fountain, In shadow of a green oak-tree So long as I was in your sight I was your heart, your soul, and treasure; Three days endured your love to me, Another Shepherd you did see To whom your heart was soon enchained; Sure have made me passing glad To choose you for my best beloved : XLI A RENUNCIATION F women could be fair, and yet not fond, For met our love fair, anm, 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, BLOW, 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 My 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: |