Yet therein now doth lodge a noble peer, Great England's glory and the world's wide wonder, Whose dreadful name late thro' all Spain did thunder, And Hercules' two pillars standing near Did make to quake and fear : Fair branch of honour, flower of chivalry! That through thy prowess and victorious arms To ages following, Upon the bridal day, which is not long : Sweet Thames! run softly, till I end my song. From those high towers this noble lord issuing Above the rest were goodly to be seen Two gentle knights of lovely face and feature, With gifts of wit and ornaments of nature Fit for so goodly stature, That like the twins of Jove they seem'd in sight Each one did make his bride Against their bridal day, which is not long : A LIV THE HAPPY HEART RT thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers? Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplexéd? Dost thou laugh to see how fools are vexéd Then hey nonny nonny, hey nonny nonny! Canst drink the waters of the crispéd spring? Swimm'st thou in wealth, yet sink'st in thine own tears? Then he that patiently want's burden bears T. Dekker LV TH HIS Life, which seems so fair, Is like a bubble blown up in the air By sporting children's breath, Who chase it every where And strive who can most motion it bequeath. -But in that pomp it doth not long appear; W. Drummond LVI SOUL AND BODY OOR Soul, the centre of my sinful earth, Fool'd by those rebel powers that thee array, Why dost thou pine within, and suffer dearth, Painting thy outward walls so costly gay? Why so large cost, having so short a lease, Eat up thy charge? is this thy body's end? Then, Soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss, So shalt thou feed on death, that feeds on men, And death once dead, there's no more dying then. W. Shakespeare LVII LIFE HE World's a bubble, and the Life of Man THE Less than a span: In his conception wretched, from the womb Curst from his cradle, and brought up to years Who then to frail mortality shall trust, Yet whilst with sorrow here we live opprest, Courts are but only superficial schools The rural parts are turn'd into a den And where's a city from foul vice so free, Domestic cares afflict the husband's bed, Those that live single, take it for a curse, Some would have children: those that have them, moan What is it, then, to have, or have no wife, But single thraldom, or a double strife? Our own affection still at home to please To cross the seas to any foreign soil, Wars with their noise affright us; when they cease, What then remains, but that we still should cry Lord Bacon OF LVIII THE LESSONS OF NATURE this fair volume which we World do name If we the sheets and leaves could turn with care, Of him who it corrects, and did it frame, We clear might read the art and wisdom rare : Find out his power which wildest powers doth tame, But silly we, like foolish children, rest Well pleased with colour'd vellum, leaves of gold, Or if by chance we stay our minds on aught, It is some picture on the margin wrought. LIX DOTH then the world go thus, doth all thus move? Is this the justice which on Earth we find ? Is this that firm decree which all doth bind? |