PUCK'S SONG.

Now the hungry lion roars,

And the wolf behowls the moon ; Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,

All with weary task fordone.

Now the wasted brands do glow,

Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud,

Puts the wretch that lies in woe

In remembrance of a shroud.

Now it is the time of night

That the graves all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite

In the church-way paths to glide:

And we fairies, that do run

By the triple Hecate's team,

From the presence of the sun,

Following darkness like a dream,

Now are frolic: not a mouse

Shall disturb this hallow'd house:

I am sent with broom before,

To sweep the dust behind the door.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

Midsummer Night's Dream

SONG.

HARK, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,

And Phoebus 'gins arise,

His steeds to water at those springs

On chaliced flowers that lies;

And winking Mary-buds begin

To ope their golden eyes:
With everything that pretty is,
My lady sweet, arise;
Arise, arise.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

Cymbeline.

SONG.

BLOW, blow, thou winter wind,

Thou art not so unkind

As man's ingratitude;

Thy tooth is not so keen,

Because thou art not seen,

Although thy breath be rude.

Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then, heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.

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! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly: Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: Then, heigh-ho, the holly!

This life is most jolly.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

As You Like It.

SONG.

FEAR no more the heat o' the sun,
Nor the furious winter's rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages:
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

Fear no more the frown o' the great;
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke;
Care no more to clothe and eat ;

To thee, the reed is as the oak :
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.

Fear no more the lightning-flash,
Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone ;
Fear not slander, censure rash;

Thou hast finish'd joy and moan:
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.

No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing ill come near thee!
Quiet consummation have!
And renowned be thy grave!

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

Cymbeline

SONG.

How should I your true love know

From another one?

By his cockle hat and staff,

And his sandal shoon.

He is dead and gone, lady,
He is dead and gone;
At his head a grass-green turf,

At his heels a stone.

White his shroud as the mountain snow

Larded with sweet flowers;

Which bewept to the grave did go

With true-love showers.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

THE NOBLE NATURE.

Hamlet.

It is not growing like a tree

In bulk, doth make man better be;
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere:
A lily of a day

Is fairer far in May,

Although it fall and die that nigntIt was the plant and flower of Light. In small proportions we just beauties see; And in short measures life may perfect be.

BEN JONSON.1

1 BEN JONSON was born in Westminster in 1573. His family

VIRTUE.

SWEET Day, so cool, so calm, so bright,
The bridal of the earth and sky,
The dew shall weep thy fall to-night;

For thou must die.

Sweet Rose, whose hue angry and brave
Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye,

Thy root is ever in its grave,

And thou must die.

Sweet Spring, full of sweet days and roses,
A box where sweets compacted lie,

My music shows

ye

have your closes,

And all must die.

was of humble condition and he appears to have been taught the trade of a bricklayer. He received his education at Westminster School, and then went to Cambridge. He did not remain at the university, however, more than a month, but turned soldier in his sixteenth year and served in the wars in the Low Countries, where he gained distinction by his bravery. When he was nineteen he returned to England, married, and became an actor, and then a playwright. He was a friend of Shakespeare, and next to him, though at long distance, the most famous of the brilliant school of Elizabethan dramatists. In 1616 he was made poetlaureate of England, and died in 1637. He wrote many plays, of which the best and most famous are his early comedies. He was a witty, agreeable man, hot-tempered and quarrelsome, and always in conflict with his literary brethren. He was also a free liver, jovial and extravagant, and given to a profuse hospitality, so that despite his position as poet-laureate, and the success of nis plays he was always in money difficulties, and died in extreme poverty. Besides his plays, he wrote many short poems of great beauty of thought, language, and expression, of which the one given in this collection is an admirable example.