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GOOD-MORROW. DACK clouds away, and welcome day ;

With night we banish sorrow; Sweet air, blow soft; mount, larks, aloft,

To give my love good-morrow. Wings from the wind to please her mind,

Notes from the lark I'll borrow; Bird, prune thy wing; nightingale, sing,

To give my love good-morrow. Wake from thy nest, robin redbreast;

Sing, birds, in every furrow; And from each hill let music shrill

Give my fair love good-morrow. Blackbird and thrush in every bush,

Stare, linnet and cock-sparrow; You pretty elves, among yourselves, Sing my fair love good-morrow.

THOMAS HEYWOOD.
TO LUCASTA.

STA.
DELL me not, sweet, I am unkind,

That from the nunnery
Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind,

To war and arms I fly.
True, a new mistress now I chase,

The first foe in the field,
And with a stronger faith embrace

A sword, a horse, a shield.
Yet this inconstancy is such

As you, too, must adore;
I could not love thee, dear, so much,
Loved I not honor more.

SIR RICHARD LOVELACE.

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CUPID AND CAMPASPE.

(From " Alexander and Campaspe.'') NUPID and my Campaspe played

At cards for kisses; Cupid paid. He staked his quiver, bow, and arrows, His mother's doves and team of sparrows; Loses them too; then down he throws The coral of his lip, the rose Growing on's cheek, but none knows how; With these, the crystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin. All these did my Campaspe win. At last he set her both his eyes; She won; and Cupid blind did rise. O Love, hath she done thus to thee? What shall, alas! become of me?

JOHN LYLY.

Time, while I gaze upon thy sweetness,

Flies like a courser nigh the goal;
To-morrow where shall be his fleetness,

When thou art parted from my soul? Our hearts shall beat, our tears shall flow, But not together—no, no, no!

THOMAS CAMPBELL.

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TO THE LADY ANNE HAMILTON. 100 late I stayed; forgive the crime;

When all its sands are diamond sparks Unheeded flew the hours;

That dazzle as they pass ? How noiseless falls the foot of Time

Ah! who to sober measurement That only treads on flowers !

Time's happy swiftness brings,

When birds of Paradise bave lent What eye with clear account remarks

Their plumage to his wings ? The ebbing of his glass,

WILLIAM ROBERT SPENCER.

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LOVE'S PHILOSOPHY. WJHE fountains mingle with the river, See the mountains kiss high heaven, And the rivers with the ocean ;

And the waves clasp one another ; The winds of heaven mix forever,

No sister flower would be forgiven
With a sweet emotion ;

If it disdained its brother;
Nothing in the world is single ;

And the sunlight clasps the earth,
All things by a law divine

And the moonbeams kiss the sea; In one another's being mingle

What are all these kissings worth,
Why not I with thine ?

If thou kiss not me?

PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY.

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SONG

(From "The False One.'') OOK out, bright eyes, and bless the air! Yet the beauty of your mind Even in shadows you are fair.

Neither check nor chain hath found. Shut-up beauty is like fire,

Look out nobly then and dare That breaks out clearer still and higher. Even the fetters that you wear! Though your beauty be confined,

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER, And soft love a prisoner bound,

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