At length they all to merry London came, There when they came whereas those bricky towers Next whereunto there stands a stately place, Of that great lord, which therein wont to dwell, Old woes, but joys to tell Against the bridal day, which is not long: Sweet Thames! run softly, till I end my song. Yet therein now doth lodge a noble peer, Great England's glory and the world's wide wonder, Whose dreadful name late thro' all Spain did thunder And Hercules' two pillars standing near Did make to quake and fear: Fair branch of honor, flower of chivalry! That fillest England with thy triumphs' fame Joy have thou of thy noble victory, And endless happiness of thine own name That promiseth the same; That through thy prowess and victorious arms Through all the world, fill'd with thy wide alarms Which some brave Muse may sing To ages following, Upon the bridal day, which is not long: Sweet Thames! run softly, till I end my song. From those high towers this noble lord issuing Above the rest were goodly to be seen Two gentle knights of lovely face and feature, That like the twins of Jove they seem'd in sight Received those two fair brides, their love's delight; Each one did make his bride Against their bridal day, which is not long: Sweet Thames! run softly, till I end my song. SPRING - Edmund Spenser Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king; Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring, Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing, Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! The palm and may make country houses gay, The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet, Gather ye rosebuds while ye may: Old Time is still a-flying; And this same flower that smiles to-day To-morrow will be dying. The glorious lamp of heaven, the Sun, The higher he's a-getting, That age is best which is the first, Then be not coy, but use your time, For, having lost but once your prime, Robert Herrick THE TRUE BEAUTY He that loves a rosy cheek But a smooth and steadfast mind, Thomas Carew THE CONSTANT LOVER Out upon it! I have loved Three whole days together! And am like to love three more, If it prove fair weather. Time shall moult away his wings, Ere he shall discover In the whole wide world again But the spite on't is, no praise Is due at all to me: Love with me had made no stays, Had it any been but she. Had it any been but she, And that very face, There had been at least ere this A dozen dozen in her place. - John Suckling WHY SO PALE AND WAN Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prythee, why so pale? Why so dull and mute, young sinner? Will, when speaking well can't win her, Prythee, why so mute? Quit, quit, for shame! this will not move, This cannot take her; If of herself she will not love, Nothing can make her: The Devil take her! -John Suckling THE MANLY HEART Shall I, wasting in despair, |