Yet should the thoughts of me your humble swain Were I as high as heaven above the plain, Were you the earth, dear Love, and I the skies, Whereso'er I am, below, or else above you, XXVI 7. Sylvester CARPE DIEM MISTRESS mine, where are you roaming? O stay and hear! your true-love 's coming Trip no further, pretty sweeting, Every wise man's son doth know. What is love? 't is not hereafter; In delay there lies no plenty, Then come kiss me, Sweet-and-twenty, Youth's a stuff will not endure. W. Shakespeare XXVII WINTER WHEN icicles hang by the wall WHEN And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall, And milk comes frozen home in pail; Tuwhit! tuwhoo! A merry note! When all around the wind doth blow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw; Tuwhoo! Tuwhit! tuwhoo! A merry note ! While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. XXVIII W. Shakespeare HAT time of year thou may'st in me behold THA When yellow leaves, or none, or few do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away, In me thou seest the glowing of such fire, - This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong, To love that well which thou must leave erelong. W. Shakespeare W XXIX REMEMBRANCE HEN to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, L' IKE as the waves make towards the pebbled shore So do our minutes hasten to their end; Each changing place with that which goes before, In sequent toil all forwards do contend. Nativity once in the main of light Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown'd, And Time that gave, doth now his gift confound. Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth, And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow. And yet, to times in hope, my verse shall stand XXXI AREWELL! thou art too dear for my possessing, FARE And like enough thou know'st thy estimate : The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing, For how do I hold thee but by thy granting? Nature herself her shape admires ; Then muse not, Nymphs, though I bemoan Since for a fair there's fairer none, Nor for her virtues so divine: Heigh ho, fair Rosaline; Heigh ho, my heart! would God that she were mine! XVII T. Lodge B COLIN EAUTY sat bathing by a spring Where fairest shades did hide her; My wanton thoughts enticed mine eye But better memory said, fie! Hey nonny nonny! Into a slumber then I fell, When fond imagination Her feature or her fashion. But ev'n as babes in dreams do smile, |