THE GOLDEN TREASURY BOOK FIRST I SPRING Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king; The palm and may make country houses gay, In The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet, T NASH Phoebus, arise ! And paint the sable skies With azure, white, and red: Rouse Memnon's mother from her Tithon's bed That she may thy career with roses spread : Give life to this dark world which lieth dead; In larger locks than thou wast wont before, With diadem of pearl thy temples fair : Which serves but to make dear thy glorious light -This is that happy morn, That day, long-wished day (If cruel stars have not my ruin sworn Which, purely white, deserves An everlasting diamond should it mark. This is the morn should bring unto this grove My Love, to hear and recompense my love. But show thy blushing beams, And thou two sweeter eyes Shalt see than those which by Penéus' streams Did once thy heart surprize. Now, Flora, deck thyself in fairest guise : If that ye winds would hear A voice surpassing far Amphion's lyre, Time and Love Beyond the hills, to shun his flaming wheels: And nothing wanting is, save She, alas! W. DRUMMOND OF HAWTHORNDEN 3 III TIME AND LOVE I When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced -This thought is as a death, which cannot choose W. SHAKESPEARE IV 2 Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, O how shall summer's honey breath hold out O fearful meditation! where, alack! Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid ? O! none, unless this miracle have might, W. SHAKESPEARE V THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE Come live with me and be my Love, There will we sit upon the rocks There will I make thee beds of roses A cap of flowers, and a kirtle Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle. A gown made of the finest wool, |