« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »
But if she whom love doth honour
Ah, Chloris ! could I now but sit
As unconcern'd as when
No happiness or pain !
And praised the coming day,
Would take my rest away.
Like metals in a mine ;
Than youth conceal'd in thine.
But as your charms insensibly
To their perfection prest,
And center'd in my breast.
While Cupid at my heart
Threw a new flaming dart :
To make a lover, he
Sir C. Sedler
LXXXII COUNSEL TO GIRLS Gather ye rose-buds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying : And this same flower that smiles today,
Tomorrow will be dying. The glorious Lamp of Heaven, the Sun,
The higher he's a getting The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting. That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times, still succeed the former.
And while ye may, go marry :
LXXXIII TO LUCASTA, ON GOING TO THE WARS
Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind
That from the nunnery
To war and arms I fly.
The first foe in the field ;
A sword, a horse, a shield.
As you too shall adore ;
Which poorly satisfy our eyes
You common people of the skies,
By your pure purple mantles known
As if the spring were all your own,--
That warble forth dame Nature's lays,
By your weak accents; what's your praise
So when my Mistress shall be seen
In sweetness of her looks and mind,
Tell me, if she were not design'd
Sir H. Wotton
TO THE LADY MARGARET LEY Daughter to that good earl, once President Of England's council and her treasury, Who lived in both, unstain’d with gold or fee, And left them both, more in himself content, Till the sad breaking of that parliament Broke him, as that dishonest victory At Chaeronea, fatal to liberty, Kill'd with report that old man eloquent ;Though later born than to have known the days Wherein your father flourish'd, yet by you, Madam, methinks I see him living yet; So well your words his noble virtues praise, That all both judge you to relate them true, And to possess them, honour'd Margaret.
THE LOVELINESS OF LOVE
A bloomy pair of vermeil cheeks Like Hebe's in her ruddiest hours, A breath that softer music speaks 'han summer winds a-wooing flowers, These are but gauds : nay what are lips? Coral beneath the ocean-stream, Whose brink when your adventurer slips Full oft he perisheth on them. And what are cheeks, but ensigns oft That wave hot youth to fields of blood ? Did Helen's breast, though ne'er so sost, Do Greece or Ilium any good ? Eyes can with baleful ardour burn; Poison can breath, that erst perfumed ; There's many a white hand holds an urn With lovers' hearts to dust consumed. For crystal brows there's nought within ; They are but empty cells for pride; He who the Syren's hair would win Is mostly strangled in the tide. Give me, instead of Beauty's bust, A tender heart, a loyal mind Which with temptation I would trust, Yet never link'd with error find,One in whose gentle bosom I Could pour my secret heart of woes, Like the care-burthen'd honey-fly That hides his murmurs in the rose,My earthly Comforter! whose love So indefeasible might be That, when my spirit wonn'd above, Hers could not stay, for sympathy.