Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, Though thou the waters warp, 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. W. SHAKESPEARE. 43. MADRIGAL. 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 monarchise : Who caitiffs scorns, and doth the blest surprise, 44. DIRGE of love. Come away, come away, Death, I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, My part of death no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet On my black coffin let there be strown; My poor corpse, where my bones thrown : A thousand thousand sighs to save, Sad true lover never find my grave, shall be W. SHAKESPEARE. 45. FIDELE. Fear no more the heat o' the sun Home art gone and ta'en thy wages: Golden lads and girls all must, Fear no more the frown o' the great, To thee the reed is as the oak: Fear no more the lightning flash Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone; Fear not slander, censure rash; Thou hast finish'd joy and moan: W. SHAKESPEARE. 46. A SEA DIRGE. Full fathom five thy father lies: Ding, dong, Bell. W. SHAKESPEARE. 47. A LAND DIRGE. Call for the robin-redbreast and the wren, The ant, the field-mouse, and the mole To rear him hillocks that shall keep him warm For with his nails he'll dig them up again. J. WEBSTER. 48. POST MORTEM. If Thou survive my well-contented day When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover, Compare them with the bettering of the time, Reserve them for my love, not for their rhyme O then vouchsafe me but this loving thought- But since he died, and poets better prove, 49. THE TRIUMPH OF DEATH. No longer mourn for me when I am dead Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world, that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell; Nay, if you read this line, remember not O if, I say, you look upon this verse Lest the wise world should look into your moan, W. SHAKESPEARE. 50. MADRIGAL. Tell me where is Fancy bred, Reply, reply. It is engender'd in the eyes, W. SHAKESPEARE. 51. CUPID AND CAMPASPE. Cupid and my Campaspe play'd At cards for kisses; Cupid paid: He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows, His mother's doves, and team of sparrows; Growing on's cheek (but none knows how); O Love! has she done this to thee? 52. J. LYLYE. Pack, clouds, away, and welcome day, To give my Love good-morrow |