Then for a gift a row of pins, A purse, a pair of knives; Was all the way that love begins, And so the shepherd wives. But now we have so much ado, Such choice of jewels, rings and chains And such intolerable pains Ere one can hit on love. That if I still shall bide this life 'Twixt love and deadly hate ; I will go learn the country life, Or leave the lover's state. X. EDWARD VERE, Earl of OXFORD, 1545-1604. THE BIRTH OF DESIRE. COM "OME hither, shepherd swain ! I pray thee shew to me thy name! When wert thou born, Desire? By whom, sweet boy, wert thou begot? Tell me, who was thy nurse? Fresh youth in sugared joy. What was thy meat and daily food? What hadst thou then to drink? What cradle wert thou rocked in? In hope devoid of fears. What lulled thee then asleep? Sweet speech, which likes me best. Tell me where is thy dwelling place? In gentle hearts I rest. What thing doth please thee most? To gaze on beauty still. Whom dost thou think to be thy foe? Disdain of my good will. Doth company displease? Yes, surely, many one. Where doth Desire delight to live? He loves to live alone. Doth either time or age Bring him unto decay? No! no, Desire both lives and dies A thousand times a day. Then fond Desire, farewell, Thou art not mate for me, I should be loth methinks to dwell With such a one as thee. XI. SIR EDWARD DYER, 1550?-1607. MY MIND TO ME A KINGDOM IS. Y mind to me a kingdom is, MY Such present joys therein I find, That it excels all other bliss That earth affords or grows by kind: Though much I want which most would have, Yet still my mind forbids to crave. No princely pomp, no wealthy store, No wily wit to salve a sore, No shape to feed a loving eye; I see how plenty surfeits oft, And hasty climbers soon do fall; I see that those which are aloft Mishap doth threaten most of all ; They get with toil, they keep with fear: Such cares my mind could never bear. Content I live, this is my stay, I seek no more than may suffice; Some have too much, yet still do crave; I laugh not at another's loss, I grudge not at another's gain; I fear no foe, I fawn no friend; Some weigh their pleasure by their lust, A cloked craft their store of skill. But all the pleasure that I find Is to maintain a quiet mind. |