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For all your love was past and done
Two days before it was begun : Adieu Love, adieu Love, untrue Love, Untrue Love, untrue Love, adieu Love ; 35 Your mind is light, soon lost for new love.
Or that their love were firm, not fickle still,
By service long to purchase their good will ;
To mark the choice they make,and how they change,
How oft from Phoebus they do flee to Pan; Unsettled still, like haggards wild they range,
These gentle birds that fly from man to man ; 10 Who would not scorn and shake them from the fist, And let them fly, fair fools, which way they list ?
Yet for disport we fawn and flatter both,
To pass the time when nothing else can please, And train them to our lure with subtle oath, 15
Till, weary of their wiles, ourselves we ease ;
E. VERE, EARL OF OXFORD.
Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
As man's ingratitude ;
Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh ho ! sing heigh hol unto the green holly :
Then, heigh ho! the holly!
As benefits forgot :
Then, heigh ho ! the holly!
20 W. SHAKESPEARE.
Peace to my soul to bring,
-But he, grim grinning King, Who caitiffs scorns, and doth the blest surprise, Late having deck'd with beauty's rose his tomb, Disdains to crop a weed and will not come.
DIRGE OF LOVE
Fly away, fly away, breath ;
My shroud of white, stuck all with yet,
O prepare it!
Did share it.
Not a flower, not a flower sweet On my black coffin let there be strown ; 10
Not a friend, not a friend greet
Lay me, O where
15 To weep there.
Fear no more the heat o' the sun
Nor the furious winter's rages ;
Home art gone and ta’en thy wages :
Fear no more the frown o' the great,
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke ;
Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone ;
A SEA DIRGE
Full fathom five thy father lies :
Of his bones are coral made ;
Nothing of him that doth fade
A LAND DIRGE
Since o'er shady groves they hover
And with leaves and flowers do cover The friendless bodies of unburied men,
Call unto his funeral dole
The ant, the field-mouse, and the mole, To rear him hillocks that shall keep him warm And (when gay tombs are robb’d) sustain no harm ; But keep the wolf far thence, that's foe to men, For with his nails he'll dig them up again. 10
If thou survive my well-contented day
These poor rude lines of thy deceased lover ;
Compare them with the bettering of the time, 5
And though they be outstripp'd by every pen, Reserve them for my love, not for their rhyme
Exceeded by the height of happier men. O then vouchsafc me but this loving thought• Had my friend's muse grown with this growing age,
10 A dearer birth than this his love had brought
To march in ranks of better equipage :
49 THE TRIUMPH OF DEATH No longer mourn for me when I am dead
Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world, that I am fled
From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell ; Nay, if you read this line, remember not
5 The hand that writ it ; for I love you so, That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot
If thinking on me then should make you woe. O if, I say, you
this verse When I perhaps compounded am with clay, 10 Do not so much as my poor name rehearse,
But let your love even with my life decay ; Lest the wise world should look into your moan, And mock you with me after I am gone.
W. SHAKESPEARE. 50