A careless shoe-string, in whose tie
I see a wild civility—

Do more bewitch me than when art
Is too precise in every part.

UPON JULIA'S CLOTHES

WHENAS in silks my Julia goes.

Then, then (methinks) how sweetly flows
The liquefaction of her clothes.

Next, when I cast mine eyes and see
That brave vibration each way free;

O how that glittering taketh me!

TO THE VIRGINS TO MAKE MUCH OF TIME

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

The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times, still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time;
And while ye may, go marry:
For having lost but once your prime,
You may for ever tarry.

TO DAFFODILS

FAIR Daffodils! we weep to see
You haste away so soon;

As yet the early-rising sun

Has not attained his noon.
Stay, stay,

Until the hasting day

Has run

But to the even-song;
And, having prayed together, we
Will go with you along.

We have short time to stay, as you;
We have as short a spring;
As quick a growth to meet decay
As you, or any thing.

We die,

As your hours do, and dry

Away

Like to the summer's rain;

Or as the pearls of morning's dew
Ne'er to be found again.

A NIGHT PIECE

HER eyes the glowworm lend thee,
The shooting stars attend thee;
And the elves also,

Whose little eyes glow

Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee.

No Will-o'-th'-Wisp mislight thee,
Nor snake or slowworm bite thee;

But on, on thy way,

Not making a stay,

Since ghost there's none to affright thee.

Let not the dark thee cumber;
What though the moon does slumber?
The stars of the night

Will lend thee their light,

Like tapers clear, without number.

Then, Julia, let me woo thee,

Thus, thus to come unto me;
And when I shall meet

Thy silvery feet,

My soul I'll pour into thee.

A THANKSGIVING TO GOD FOR HIS HOUSE

LORD, Thou hast given me a cell
Wherein to dwell,

A little house, whose humble roof
Is weather-proof,

Under the spars of which I lie
Both soft and dry;

Where Thou, my chamber for to ward,
Hast set a guard

Of harmless thoughts, to watch and keep
Me while I sleep.

Low is my porch, as is my fate,
Both void of state;

And yet the threshold of my door
Is worn by th' poor,

Who thither come, and freely get

Good words or meat.

Like as my parlour so my hall
And kitchen's small;

A little buttery, and therein
A little bin,

Which keeps my little loaf of bread
Unchipp'd, unflead;

Some little sticks of thorn or briar
Make me a fire,

Close by whose living coal I sit,
And glow like it.

Lord, I confess too, when I dine,

The pulse is Thine,

And all those other bits that be
There placed by Thee;

The worts, the purslain, and the mess
Of water-cress,

Which of Thy kindness Thou hast sent;
And my content

Makes those, and my beloved beet,
To be more sweet.

'Tis Thou that crown'st my glittering hearth With guiltless mirth,

And giv'st me wassail bowls to drink,
Spiced to the brink.

Lord, 'tis Thy plenty-dropping hand
That soils my land,

And giv'st me, for my bushel sown,
Twice ten for one;

Thou mak'st my teeming hen to lay
Her egg each day;

Besides my healthful ewes to bear

Me twins each year;

The while the conduits of my kine
Run cream, for wine.

All these, and better, Thou dost send
Me, to this end,

That I should render, for my part,
A thankful heart;

Which, fired with incense, I resign,
As wholly thine.

But the acceptance, that must be,
My Christ, by Thee.

CORINNA'S GOING A-MAYING

GET up, get up for shame! The blooming morn
Upon her wings presents the god unshorn.
See how Aurora throws her fair
Fresh-quilted colours through the air:
Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see

The dew bespangling herb and tree.
Each flower has wept and bowèd toward the east
Above an hour since: yet you not dressed;
Nay! not so much as out of bed?

When all the birds have matins said

And sung their thankful hymns, 'tis sin,
Nay, profanation, to keep in,

Whenas a thousand virgins on this day
Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch in May.

Rise, and put on your foliage, and be seen
To come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and green,
And sweet as Flora. Take no care
For jewels for your gown or hair:
Fear not; the leaves will strew
Gems in abundance upon you:

Besides, the childhood of the day has kept,
Against you come, some orient pearls unwept;
Come and receive them while the light
Hangs on the dew-locks of the night:
And Titan on the eastern hill

Retires himself, or else stands still

Till you come forth. Wash, dress, be brief in praying: Few beads are best when once we go a-Maying.

Come, my Corinna, come; and, coming mark

How each field turns a street, each street a park
Made green and trimm'd with trees; see how
Devotion gives each house a bough

Or branch: each porch, each door, ere this
An ark, a tabernacle is,