« ZurückWeiter »
They are the lords and owners of their | No! Time, thou shalt not boast that I faces,
do change : Others but stewards of their excellence. Thy pyramids built up with newer might The summer's flower is to the summer To me are nothing novel, nothing strange; sweet,
They are but dressings of a former sight. Though to itself it only live and die; Our dates are brief, and therefore we But if that flower with base infection
What thou dost foist upon us that is old; The basest weed outbraves his dignity: And rather make them born to our desire, For sweetest things turn sou rest" by Than think that we before have heard their deeds;
Not wondering at the present nor the past;
Made more or less by thy continual haste: ALAS, 't is true, I havegone hereand there, This I do vow, and this shall ever be, And made myself a motley to the view, I will be true, despite thy scythe aud Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap thee.
what is most dear, Made old offences of affections new. Most true it is, that I have looked on
truth Askance and strangely; but, by all above,
BEN JONSON. These blenches gave my heart another youth,
[1574- 1637.) And worse essays proved thee my best of love.
THE NOBLE NATURE. Now all is done, save what shall have no end:
It is not growing like a tree
In bulk, doth make man better be; Mine appetite I never more will grind On newer proof, to try an older friend,
Or standing long an oak, three hundred A God in love, to whom I am confined.
year, Then give me welcome, next my heaven To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere: the best,
A lily of a day
Is fairer far in May, Even to thy pure and most most loving breast.
Although it falland die that night,
It was the plant and flower of Light. In small proportions we just beauties see;
And in short measures life may perfect be.
SONG OF HESPERUS.
QUEEN, and huntress, chaste and fair, It is the star to every wandering bark,
Now the sun is laid to sleep, Whose worth's unknown, although his
Seated in thy silver chair, height be taken.
State in wonted manner keep: Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips
Hesperus entreats thy light,
Goddess excellently bright. and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Earth, let not thy envious shade Love alters not with his brief hours and Dare itself to interpose; weeks,
Cynthia's shining orb was made But bears it out even to the edge of doom. Heaven to clear, when day did close :
If this be error, and upon me proved, Bless us then with wished sight, I never writ, nor no man ever loved. Goddess excellently bright.
Lay thy bow of pearl apart,
HOW NEAR TO GOOD IS WHAT IS FAIRI And thy crystal shining quiver ; Give unto the flying hart
How near to good is what is fair!
Which we no sooner see,
But with the lines and outward air
Our senses taken be.
We wish to see it still, and prove
What ways we may deserve;
We are not grieved to serve.
I thought to form unto my zealous Muse, EPITAPH ON ELIZABETH L. H.
Wouldst thou hear what man can say I meant to make her fair, and free, and In a little?— reader, stay! wise,
Underneath this stone doth lie Of greatest blood, and yet more good As much beauty as could die, – than great ;
Which in life did harbor give I meant the day-star should not brighter To more virtue than doth live. rise,
If at all she had a fault, Nor lend like influence from his lucent Leave it buried in this vault. seat.
One name was Elizabeth, I meant she should be courteous, facile, The other, let it sleep with death. sweet,
Fitter where it died to tell, Hating that solemn vice of greatness, Than that it lived at all. Farewell !
pride; I meant each softest virtue there should
meet, Fit in that softer bosom to reside. Only a learned and a manly soul
UNKNOWN I purposed her; that should, with even powers,
[Before 1649.) The rock, the spindle, and the shears control
LOVE WILL FIND OUT THE WAY. Of Destiny, and spin her own free hours. Such when I meant to feign, and wished
Over the mountains,
And under the waves,
Over the fountains, My Muse bade, Bedford write, and that
And under the graves, was she.
Under floods which are deepest,
Which Neptune obey,
Over rocks which are steepest,
Love will find out the way. Still to be neat, still to be drest,
Where there is no place
For the glow-worm to lie,
For the receipt of a fly, Though art's hid causes are not found, Where the gnat dares not venture, All is not sweet, all is not sound.
Lest herself fast she lay,
If Love come he will enter,
And find out the way.
If that he were hidden,
And all men that are, Than all the adulteries of art,
Were strictly forbidden That strike mine eyes, but not my heart.
That place to declare;
Winds that have no abidings,
BEGONE DULL CAREI
BEGONE dull care!
He would swim to the shore. Begone dull care !
Thou and I can never agree.
And fain thou wouldst me kill;
But i' faith, dull care,
Thou never shalt have thy will.
Too much care
Will make a young man gray;
Too much care
That his true love doth stay, My wife shall dance, and I will sing,
To drive dull care away.
I'll none of thy company;
Hence, dull care,
Thou art no pair for me. (Before 1689.)
We'll lunt the wild boar through the
wold, MAY-DAY SONG.
So merrily pass the day;
And then at night, o'er a cheerful bowl, REMEMBER 118 poor Mayers all !
We'll drive dull care away.
Or else we die in sin.
BISHOP RICHARD CORBETT.
(1582 - 1635.) We have brought you a branch of May.
FAREWELL TO THE FAIRIES. A branch of May we have brought you,
FAREWELL rewards and fairies !
Good housewifes now niay say,
For now foul sluts in dairies
Do fare as well as they. By the work of our Lord's hands.
And though they sweep their hearths no The heavenly gates are open wide,
less Our paths are beaten plain ;
Than maids were wont to do; And if a man be not too far gone,
Yet who of late, for cleanliness, He may return again.
Finds sixpence in her shoe? The moon shines bright, and the stars Lament, lament, old Abbeys, give a light,
The fairies' lost command; A little before it is day;
They did but change priests' babies, So God bless you all, both great and But some have changed your land; small,
And all your children sprung from thence And send you a joyful May!
Are now grown Puritans;
Who live as changelings ever since,
More swift than lightning can I fly For love of your domains.
About this airy welkin soon,
And, in a minute's space, descry At morning and at evening both,
Each thing that's done below the moon. You merry were and glad,
There's not a hag So little care of sleep or sloth
Or ghost shall was, These pretty ladies had ;
Or cry, 'ware goblins ! where I go; When Tom came home from labor,
But Robin I Or Cis to milking rose,
Their feasts will spy, Then merrily went their tabor,
And send them home with ho, ho, ho ! And nimbly went their toes.
Whene'er such wanderers I meet, Witness those rings and roundelays As from their night-sports they trudge Of theirs, which yet remain,
home, Were footed in Queen Mary's days With counterfeiting voice I greet, On many a grassy plain;
And call them on with me to roam: But since of late Elizabeth,
Through woods, through lakes; And later, James came in,
Through bogs, through brakes; They never danced on any heath
Or else, unseen, with them I go. As when the time hath been.
All in the nick,
To play some trick,
And frolic it, with ho, ho, ho !
Sometimes I meet them like a man,
Sometimes an ox, sometimes a hound;
And to a horse I turn me can, Or gone beyond the seas;
To trip and trot about them round. Or farther for religion fled;
But if to ride Or else they take their ease.
My back they stride,
More swift than wind a way I go,
O'er hedge and lands,
Through pools and ponds,
I hurry, laughing, ho, ho, ho !
When lads and lasses merry be, 0, how the commonwealth doth need
With possets and with junkets fine; Such justices as you !
Unseen of all the company,
And, to make sport,
I puff and snort:
And out the candles I do blow:
The maids I kiss,
They shriek - Who's this?
I answer naught but ho, ho, ho!
Yet now and then, the maids to please, From Oberon, in fairy- land,
At midnight I card up their wool: The king of ghosts and shadows there, And, while they sleep and take their Mad Robin I, at his command,
ease, Ain sent to view the night-sports here. With wheel to threads their flax I pull. What revel rout
I grind at mill
Their malt up still;
I dress their hemp ; I spin their tow;
If any wake,
And would me take,
When any need to borrow aught,
EDOM O' GORDON.
When the wind blew shrill and cauld,
Said Edom o' Gordon to his men, With pinchings, dreams, and ho, ho, “We maun draw to a hauld. ho!
“And whatna hauld sall we draw to, When lazy queans have naught to do, My merry men and me?
But study how to cog and lie; We will gae to the house of the Rodes, To make debate and mischief too,
To see that fair ladye." ”Twixt one another secretly: I mark their gloze,
The lady stood on her castle wa',
Beheld baith dale and down;
Came riding towards the town.
“O see ye not, my merry men a',
O see ye not what I see? When men do traps and engines set
Methinks I see a host of men; In loopholes, where the vermin creep,
I marvel who they be.”
As he cam' riding hame;
It was the traitor, Edom o' Gordon,
Wha recked nor sin nor shame.
She had nae sooner buskit hersell,
And putten on her gown,
Were round about the town.
We nightly dance our heyday guise; And to our fairy king and queen,
They had nae sooner supper set,
Nae sooner said the grace,
Were lighted about the place.
The lady ran up to her tower-head,
As fast as she could hie,
To see if by her fair speeches
She could wi' him agree. From hag-bred Merlin's time, have I
Thus nightly revelled to and fro; “ Come doun to me, ye lady gay, And for my pranks men call me by Come doun, come doun to me; The name of Robin Goodfellow, This night sall ye lig within mine arms,
Fiends, ghosts, and sprites, To-morrow my bride sall be.”
Who haunt the nights,
I winna come down to thee;
I winna forsake my ain dear lord, So vale, vale; ho, ho, ho!
And he is na far frae me.”