Bird prune thy wing, nightingale sing, To give my Love good-morrow Wake from thy nest, Robin-red-breast, Give my fair Love good-morrow! To give my Love good-morrow LIII T. Heywood C PROTHALAMION 'ALM was the day, and through the trembling air Sweet-breathing Zephyrus did softly play A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay Hot Titan's beams, which then did glister fair; Through discontent of my long fruitless stay In princes' court, and expectation vain Along the shore of silver-streaming Thames; And all the meads adorn'd with dainty gems Fit to deck maidens' bowers, And crown their paramours Against the dal day, which is not long : Sweet Thames! run softly, till I end my song. There in a meadow by the river's side And each one had a little wicker basket In which they gather'd flowers to fill their flasket, The tender stalks on high. Of every sort which in that meadow grew To deck their bridegrooms' posies Against the bridal day, which was not long : Sweet Thames! run softly, till I end my song. With that I saw two swans of goodly hue The snow which doth the top of Pindus strow Nor Jove himself, when he a swan would be Yet Leda was (they say) as white as he, XL THE UNFAITHFUL SHEPHERDESS WHI HILE that the sun with his beams hot Philon the shepherd, late forgot, Sitting beside a crystal fountain, In shadow of a green oak-tree Upon his pipe this song play'd he : Adieu Love, adieu Love, untrue Love, Untrue Love, untrue Love, adieu Love; Your mind is light, soon lost for new love. So long as I was in your sight I was your heart, your soul, and treasure; Three days endured your love to me, Adieu Love, adieu Love, untrue Love, Another Shepherd you did see To whom your heart was soon enchainéd; Soon came a third, your love to win, Sure you have made me passing glad To choose you for my best belovéd : For all your love was past and done I' XLI A RENUNCIATION F women could be fair, and yet not fond, Or that their love were firm, not fickle still, To mark the choice they make, and how they change, Yet for disport we fawn and flatter both, E. Vere, Earl of Oxford BLO XLII LOW, blow, thou winter wind, 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. W. Shakespeare XLIII 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 monarchize : - But he, grim grinning King, |