THE LOVER'S TEARS. O sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not S° To those fresh morning drops upon the rose, As thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote The night of dew that on my cheeks down flows: Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright Through the transparent bosom of the deep, As doth thy face through tears of mine give light: Thou shinest in every tear that I do weep; No drop but as a coach doth carry thee, So ridest thou triumphing in my woe: Do but behold the tears that swell in me, And they thy glory through my grief will show : But do not love thyself; then thou wilt keep My tears for glasses, and still make me weep. queen of queens, how far dost thou excel! No thought can think, nor tongue of mortal tell. 30 WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. PERJURY EXCUSED. ID not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye, DID 'Gainst whom the world cannot hold argument, Persuade my heart to this false perjury? Vows for thee broke deserve not punishment. A woman I forswore; but I will prove, Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee: My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love; Thy grace being gained cures all disgrace in me. Vows are but breath, and breath a vapour is : Then thou, fair sun, which on my earth dost shine, Exhalest this vapour-vow; in thee it is: If broken then, it is no fault of mine : If by me broke, what fool is not so wise To lose an oath to win a paradise? Love, whose month is ever May, Through the velvet leaves the wind, Wish himself the heaven's breath. Turning mortal for thy love. SPRING AND WINTER. WHEN daisies pied, and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue, Do paint the meadows with delight, Cuckoo, cuckoo,-O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear! 32 WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, Mocks married men, for thus sings he, Cuckoo, cuckoo,-O word of fear, When icicles hang by the wall, And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And milk comes frozen home in pail, To-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel1 the pot. When all around the wind doth blow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw, To-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. 1 Skim. From A Midsummer Night's Dream. OVER HILL, OVER DALE. VER hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire, In those freckles live their savours : D |