Serre always with assured trust,

If that one be prodigal, And in thy suit be humble, true;

Bountiful they will him call : Unless thy lady prove unjust,

And with such like flattering, Press never thou to choose anew :

“ Pity but he were e king.” When time shall serve, be thou not slack To proffer, though she put thee back.

If he be addict to vice,

Quickly bim they will entice; The wiles and guiles that women work,

If to women he be bent, Dissembled with an outward show,

They have him at commandement; The tricks and toys that in them luck,

But if fortune once do frown, The cock that treads them shall not know, Then farewell bis great renown: Have you not heard it said full oft,

They that fawn'd on him before, A woman's pay doth stand for bought?

Use his company no more.

He that is thy friend indeed, Think women still to thrive with men,

He will help thee in thy need ; To sin, and never for to saint:

If thou sorrow, he will weep; There is no Heaven, by holy then,

If thou wake, he cannot sleep: When time with age shall them attaint.

Thus of every grief in heart Were kisses all the joys in bed,

He with thee doth bear a part. One woman would another wed.

These are certain signs to know

Faithful friend from flattering foe.
But soft; enongh,—too much I fear,
Lest that my mistress hear my song ;

XIX.
She'll not stick to round me i'th' ear,
To teach my tongue to be so long :

Take, oh, take those lips away, Yet will she blush, here be it said,

That so sweetly were forsworn; To hear her secrets so bewray'd.

And those eyes, the break of day,

Lights that do mislead the mom: XVIII.

But my kisses bring again,

Seals of love, but seal'd in vain.
As it fell upon a day,
In the merry month of May,

Hide, oh, hide those hills of snow Sitting in a pleasant shade

Which thy frozen bosom bears, Which a grove of myrtles made,

On whose tops the pinks that grow, Beasts did leap, and birds did sing,

Are of those that April wears. Trees did grow, and plants did spring :

But first set my poor heart free, Every thing did banish moan,

Bound in those icy chains by thee.
Save the nigbtingale alone :
She, poor bird, as all forlorn,

XX.
Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn,
And there sung the dolefull'st ditty,

Let the bird of loudest lay,
That to hear it was great pity :

On the sole Arabian tree, “ Fie, fie, fie,” now would she cry,

Herald sad and trumpet be, “ Teru, Teru,” by and by :

To whose sound chaste wings obey. That to bear her so complain,

But thou shrieking harbinger, Scarce I could from tears refrain;

Foul pre-currer of the fiend, For her griefs, so lively shown,

Augur of the fever's end, Made me think upon mine own.

To this troop come tbou not near. Ah! (thought I) thou mourn’st in vain; None take pity on thy pain :

From this session interdict Senseless trees, they cannot hear thee;

Every fowl of tyrant wing,
Ruthless beasts, they will not cheer thee;

Save the eagle, feather'd king:
King Pandion, he is dead:
All thy friends are lapp'd in lead :

Keep the obsequy so strict.
All thy fellow birds do sing,
Careless of thy sorrowing,

Let the priest in surplice white,

That defunctive music can,
Even so, poor bird, like thee,
None alive will pity me.

Be the death-divining swan,

Lest the requiem lack his right. Whilst as fickle Fortune smild, 'Thou and I were both beguil'd.

And thou, treble-dated crow, Every one that flatters thee,

That thy sable gender mak'st Is no friend in misery.

With the breath thou giv'st and tak'st, Words are easy like the wind;

'Mongst our mourners shalt thou go. Faithful friends are hard to find. Every man will be thy friend,

Here the anthem doth commence:Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend;

Love and constancy is dead ; But if store of crowns be scant,

Phenix and the turtle fled No man will supply thy want.

In a mutual flame from hence. VOL V.

F

So they lov'd, as lore in twain

Upon her head a platted hive of straw, Had the essence but in one;

Which fortify'd her visage from the Sun, Two distincts, division none:

Whereon the thought might think sometime it gav Number tbere in love was slait.

The carcass of a beauty spent and done.

Time had not scythed all that youth kegun, Hearts remote, yet not asunder ;

Nor youth all quit; but, spite of Heaven's fell rage, Distance, and no space was seen

Some beauty peep'd through lattice of sear'd age. 'Twixt the turtle and his queen : But in them it were a wonder.

Oft did she heave her napkin to her eyne,

Which on it had conceited characters, So between them love did shine,

·Laund'ring the silken figures in the drinë That the turtle saw his right

That season'd woe had pelleted in tears, Flaining in the phenix' sight:

And often reading what contents it bears ; Either was the other's mine.

As often shrieking undistinguish'd woe,

In clamours of all size, doth high and low.
Property was thus appall’d,
That the self was not the same;

Sometimes her level'd eyes their carriage ride, Single nature's double name

As they did battery to the spheres intend; Neither two nor one was call'd.

Sometime diverted their poor balls are ty'd

To the orbed earth; sometimes they do extend Reason, in itself confounded,

Their view right on; anon their gazes lend Saw division grow together;

To every place at once, and no where fix'd, To themselves yet either-neither,

The mind and sight distractedly commix'd. Simple were so well compounded;

Her hair, nor loose, nor tyd in formal plat, That it cried, “ how true a twain

Proclaim'd in her a careless hand of pride; Seemeth this concordant one!

For some, untuck'd, descended her sheav'd hat, Love hath reason, reason pone,

Hanging her pale and pined cheek beside; If what parts can so remain.”

Some in her threaden fillet still did bide,

And true to bondage, would not break from thence, Whereupon it made this threne

Though slackly braided in loose negligence.
To the phenix and the dove,
Co-supremes and stars of love;

A thousand farours from a maund she drew
As chorus to their tragic scene,

Of amber, crystal, and of bedded jet,

Which one by one she in a river threw,
THRENOS.

Upon whose weeping margent she was set,

Like usury, applying wet to wet, Beauty, truth, and rarity,

Or monarchs' hands, that let not bonnty fall Grace in all simplicity,

Where want cries some, but where excess begs all, Here enclos'd in cinders lie.

Of folded schedules had she many a one, Death is now the phenix' nest;

Which she perus’d, sigh’d, tore, and gave the flood; And the turtle's loyal breast

Crack'd many a ring of posied gold and bone, To eternity doth rest,

Bidding them find their sepulchres in mud;

Found yet more letters sadly pen'd in blood, Leaving no posterity:

With sleided silk feat and affectedly 'T was not their infirmity,

Enswath'd, and seal'd to curious secresy. It was married chastity.

These often bath'd she in her luxive eyes, Truth may seem, but cannot be;

And often kiss'd, and often 'gan to tear ; Beauty brag, but 't is not she;

Cry'd, “O false blood! thou register of lies, Truth and beauty bury'd be.

What unapproved witness dost thou bear! (here!"

Ink would have seem'd more black and damned To this urn let those repair

This said, in top of rage the lines she rents, That are either true or fair;

Big discontent so breaking their contents.
For these dead birds sigh a prayer.

A reverend man, that graz'd bis cattle nigh,
(Sometime a blusterer, tbat the ruffle knew
Of court, of city, and had let go by
The swiftest hours) observed as they flew ;

Towards this afflicted fancy fastly drew;
LOVER'S COMPLAINT.

And, privileg'd by age, desires to know

In brief, the grounds and motives of her woe.
From off a bill whose concave womb re-worded So slides he down upon his grained bat,
A plaintful story from a sistering vale,

And comely-distant sits he by her side ;
My spirits to attend this double voice accorded, When he again desires her, being sat,
And down I lay to list the sad-tun'd tale:

Her grievance with his hearing to divide: Ere long espy'd a fickle maid full pale,

If that from him there may be aught apply'd Tearing of papers, breaking rings a-twain, Which may her suffering ecstasy assuage, Storming ber world with sorror's wind and rain. 'T is promis'd in the charity of age.

A

* Fatber," she says, “ though in me you behold “ Many there were that did his picture get, The injury of many a blasting hour,

To serve their eyes, and in it put their mind; Let it not tell your judgment I am old ;

Like fools that in the imagination set Not age, but sorrow, over me hath power: The goodly objects which abroad they find I might as yet have been a spreading flower, Of lands and mansions, their's in thonght assignd; Fresh to myself, if i haul self-apply'd

And labouring in more pleasures to bestow them, Love to myself, and to no love beside.

Than the true gouty landlord which doth owe them: ". But woe is me! too early I attended

“ So many have, that never touch'd his hand, A youthful suit (it was to gain my grace) Sweetly suppos'd them mistress of his heart. Of one by Nature's outwards so commended, My woeful self, that did in freedom stand, That maiden's eyes sluck over all his face: And was my own fee-simple, (not in part) Love lack'd a dwelling, and made him her place; What with his art in youth, and youth in art, And when in his fair parts she did abide,

Threw my affections in his charmed power, She was new lodg'd, and newly deified.

Reserv'd the stalk, and gave him all my flower. “ His browny locks did hang in crooked carls; “ Yet did I not, as some my equals did, And every light occasion of the wind

Demand of him, nor being desired, yielded ; Upon his lips their silken parcels hurls.

Finding myself in honour so forbid, What 's sweet to do, to do will aptly tind : With safest distance I mine honour shielded : Each eye that saw him did enchant the mind;

Experience for me many bulwarks builded For on his visage was in little drawn,

Of proofs new-bleeding, which remain'd the foil What largeness thinks in Paradise was sawn. Of this false jewel, and his amorous spoil. " Small show of man was yet upon his chin; His phenix down began but to appear,

“ But ah! who ever shun'd by precedent Like unshorn velvet, on that termless skin,

The destin'd ill she must berself assay ? Whose bare out-brag‘d the web it seem'd to wear;

Or forc'd examples, 'gainst her own content, Yet show'd his visage by that cost most dear;

To put the by-pass'd perils in her way? And nice affections wavering stood in doubt

Counsel may stop awhile what will not stay ; If best 't were as it was, or best withont.

For when we rage, advice is often seen

By blunting us to make our wits more keer. * His qualities were beauteous as his form, For maiden-tongu'd he was, and thereof free;

“ Nor gives it satisfaction to our blood, Yet, if men mov'd him, was he such a storm That we must curb it upon others' proof, As oft 'twixt May and April is to see,

To be forbid the sweets that seem so gooit, When winds breathe sweet, unruly though they be. For fear of harms that preach in our behoof. His rudeness so with his authoriz'd youth,

( appetite, from judgment stand aloof! Did livery falseness in a pride of truth.

The one a palate hath that needs will taste,

Though reason weep, and cry it is thy last. “ Well conld he ride, and often men would say, • That horse his mettle from his rider takes : “ For further I could say, this man 's untrue, Proud of subjection, noble by the sway,

And knew the patterns of his foul beguiling; What rounds, what bounds, what course, what stop Heard where his plants in others' orchards grew, he makes!'

Saw how deceits were guiled in bis smiling; And controversy hence a question takes,

Knew vows were ever brokers to defiling; Whether the horse by him became his deed, Thought, characters, and words, merely but art, Or be his manage by the well-doing steed.

And bastards of his foul adulterate heart. " But quickly on this side the verdict went ; " And long upon these terms I held my city, His real habitude gave life and grace

Till thus he 'gan besiege me: Gentle mad, To appertainings and to ornament,

Have of my suffering youth some feeling pity, Accomplish'd in himself, not in his case:

And be not of my holy vows afraid :
All aids, themselves made fairer by their place, That 's to you sworn, to none was ever said ;
Came for additions, yet their purpos'd trim For feasts of love I have been callid unto,
Piec'd not his grace, but were all grac'd by him. Till now did ne'er invite, nor never vow.
“So on the tip of his subduing tongue

" • All my offences that abroad you see, All kind of arguments and question deep,

Are errours of the blood, none of the mind : All replication prompt, and reason strong,

Love made them not; with acture they may be, For his advantage still did wake and sleep : Where neither party is nor true nor kind: To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep, They sought their shame that so their shame did find; He had the dialect and different skill,

And so much less of shame in me remains, Catching all passions in his craft of will;

By how much of me their reproach contains. " That he did in the general bosom reign “ ' Among the many that mine eyes have seen, Of

young, of old; and sexes both enchanted, Not one whose flame my heart so much as warm'd, To dwell with him in thoughts, or to remain Or my affection put to the smallest teen, In personal duty, following where he haunted : Or any of my leisures ever charm'd: Consents bewitch'd, ere he desire, have granted; Harm bave i done to them, but ne'er was harm'd; And dialogu'd for him what he would say, Kept bearts in liveries, but mine own was free, Ask'd their own wills, and made their wills obey And reign'd, commanding in his monarchy.

"" Look here what tribntes wounded fancies sent "! My parts had power to charm a sacred sun,
Of paled pearls, and rubies red as blood; [me, Who disciplin'd and dieted in grace,
Figuring that they their passions likewise lent me, Believ'd her eyes when I the assail begun,
Of grief and blushes, aptly understood

All vows and consecrations giving place.
In bloodless white, and the encrimson'd mood; O most potential love! vow, bond, nor space,
Effects of terrour and dear modesty,

Ip thee hath neither sting, knot, nor confine,
Encamp'd in hearts, but fighting outwardly. For thou art all, and all things else are thine.
« • And lo ! behold these talents of their hair, “When thou impressest, what are precepts worth
With twisted metal amorously impleach'd, Of stale example? When thou wilt inflame,
I have receiv'a from many a several fair,

How coldly those impediments stand forth (Their kind acceptance weepingly beseech'd) Of wealth, of filial fear, law, kindred, fame ? With the annexions of fair gems enrich'd,

Love's arms are peace, 'gainst rule, 'gainst sense, And deep-brain's sonnets that did amplify

'gainst shame, Each stone's dear nature, worth, and quality. And sweetens, in the suffering pangs it bears,

The aloes of all forces, shocks, and fears. “ " The diamond ; why 't was beautiful and hard, Whereto his invis'd properties did tend ;

“ “ Now all these hearts that do on mine depend, The deep-green emerald, in whose fresh regard Feeling it break, with bleeding groans they pine, Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend; And supplieant their sighs to you extend, The heaven-hued sapphire and the opal blend

And leave the battery that you make 'gainst mine, With objects manifold; each several stone,

Lending soft audience to my sweet design, With wit well blazon'd, smil'd or made some moan.

And credent soul to that strong-bonded oath,

That shall prefer and undertake my troth.' « « Lo ! all these trophies of affections bot, Of pensiv'd and subdued desires the tender,

“ This said, his watery eyes he did dismount,

Whose sights till then were level'd on my face; Nature hath charg'd me that I hoard them not, But yield them up where I myself inust render,

Each cheek a river running from a fount

With brinish current downward flow'd apace:
That is, to you, my origin and ender:

O how the channel to the stream gave grace!
For these, of force, must your oblations be,
Since I their altar, you enpatron me.

Who, glaz’d with crystal, gate the glowing roses

That flame through water which tveir hue encloses, 6O then advance of yours that phraseless hand,

“ O father, what a hell of witchcraft lies Whose white weighs down the airy scale of praise; In the small orb of one particular tear! Take all these similies to your own command, But with the inundation of the eyes Hallow'd with sighs that burning lungs did raise;

What rocky heart to water will not wear?
What me your minister, for you obeys,

What breast so cold that is not warmed here?
Works under you; and to your audit comes O cleft effect! cold modesty, hot wrath,
Their distract parcels in combined sums.

Both fire from hence and chill extincture bath! «« Lo! this device was sent me from a nun, “ Por lo! his passion, but an art of craft, Or sister sanctified of holiest note;

Even there resolv'd my reason into tears; Which late her noble suit in court did shun, There my white stole of chastity I daft, Whose rarest havings made the blossoms dote; Shook off my sober guards, and civil fears; For she was sought by spirits of richest coat, Appear to him, as he to me appears, But kept cold distance, and did thence remove, All melting; though our drops this difference bore, To spend her living in eternal love.

His poison'd me, and mine did him restore. “< But O, my sweet, what labour is 't to leave “ In bim a plenitude of subtle matter, The thing we have not, mastering what not strives ? Apply'd to cautels, all strange forms receives, Playing the place which did no form receive, Of burning blushes, or of weeping water, Playing patient sports in unconstrained gyves : Or swooning paleness; and he takes and leares, She that her fame so to herself contrives,

In either's aptness as it best deceives, The scars of battle scapeth by the flight,

To blush at speeches rank, to weep at woes, And makes her absence valjant, not her might. Or to turn white and swoon at tragic shows. «« O pardon me, in that my boast is true; " That not a heart which in his level came, The accident which brought me to her eye, Could scape the hail of his all-hurting aim, Upon the moment did her force subdue,

Showing fair Nature is both kind and tame; And now she would the caged cloister fly:

And veil'd in them, would win whom he would maim: Religious love put out religion's eye:

Against the thing he sought he would exclaim ; Not to be tempted, would she be enmur'd, When he most burnt in heart-wish'd luxury, And now, to tempt all, liberty procur’d.

He preach'd pure maid, and prais'd cold chastity. "" How mighty then you are, O hear me tell ! “ Thus merely with the garment of a grace The broken bosoms that to me belong,

The naked and concealed fiend he coverd, Have emptied all their fountains in my well, That the unexperienc'd gave the tempter place, And mine I pour your ocean all among :

Which, like a cherubin, above them boverd. I strong o'er them, and you o'er me being strong, Who, young and simple, would not be so lover'd? Must for your victory us all congest,

Ah me! I fell; and yet do question make As compound love to physic your cold breast. What I should do again for such a sake.

O, that infected moisture of his eye,

Thou, for whom [e'en] Jove would swear 0, that false fire which in his cheek so glow'd, Juno but an Æthiop were ; 0, that forc'd thunder from his heart did fly, And deny himself for Jove, O, that sad breath his spungy lungs bestow'd, Turning mortal for thy ' love." O, all that borrowed motion, seeming ow'd, Would yet again betray the fore-betray'd, And new pervert a reconciled maid!”

SPRING.

Blow, blow thou winter-wind,

When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, Thou art not so unkiod

And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, As man's ingratitude !

When turtles tread and rooks and daws, Thy tooth is not so keen,

And maidens bleach their summer smocks ; Because thou art not seen,

The cuckoo then on every tree
Although thy breath be rude.

Mocks married men, for thus sings he;
Heigh, ho! sing heigh, ho! unto the green holly, Cuckoo !
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly. Cuckoo ! Cuckoo!-0 word of fear,
Then heigh, ho, the holly!

Unpleasing to a married ear!
This life is most jolly.

WINTER.

A SONG,

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
That dost not bite so nigh

As benefits forgot!
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As friend remember'd not.

Heigh, ho! &c. &e.

AT THE END OF LOVE'S LABOUR'S Lost.

SONNET.

IN ENGLAND'S HELICON, AND LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST.

On a day, (alack the day!)
Love, whose month is 'ever May,
Spied a blossom, passing fair,
Playing in the wanton air.
Through the velvet leaves the wind
All unseen 'gan passage find,
That the lover, sick to death,
Wish'd himself the Heaven's breath.
" Air," quoth he, “thy cheeks may blow ;-
Air, would I might triumph so !
But alack !: my hand is sworn
Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn.
Vow, alack ! for youth unmeet,
Youth so apt to pluck a sweet ;
Do not call it sin in me
That I am forsworn for thee :

WHEN icicles hang by the wall,

And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
And Tom bears logs into the hall,

And milk comes frozen home in pail ;
When blood is nipt, and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whoo!
Tu-whit! tu-whoo! a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
When all aloud the wind doth blow,

And coughing drowns the parson's saw,
And birds sit brooding in the snow,

And Marian's nose looks red and raw;
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whoo !
Tu-whit! tu-whoo! a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

SONG OF FAFRIES.

BY PUCK IN MIDSUMMER NICHT'S DREAM.

1 " Was.” Eng. Hel.

“Shepherd.” Eng. Hele 1“Alas my band hath.” Eng. Hel. * These two lines wanting in Eng. Hel.

Now the hungry lion roars,

And the wolf behowls the Moon,
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,

All with weary task foredone.

“My.” Eng. Heb