PHILON THE SHEPHERD WH HIS SONG HILE that the sun with his beams hot Philon, the shepherd, late forgot Sitting beside a crystal fountain, In shadow of a green oak tree, Upon his pipe this song play'd he : Adieu, Love! adieu, Love! untrue Love! Untrue Love, untrue Love! adieu, Love! Your mind is light, soon lost for a new love. So long as I was in your sight, I was your heart, your soul, your treasure; And evermore you sobb'd and sigh'd, Burning in flames beyond all measure. Three days endured your love for me, And it was lost in other three. Adieu, Love! adieu, Love! untrue Love! Untrue Love, untrue Love! adieu, Love! Your mind is light, soon lost for a new love. Another shepherd you did see, To whom your heart was soon enchainèd; Full soon your love was leapt from me, Full soon my place he had obtainèd: Soon came a third your love to win; And we were out, and he was in. Adieu, Love! adieu, Love! untrue Love! Untrue Love! untrue Love! adieu, Love! Your mind is light, soon lost for a new love. Sure, you have made me passing glad To choose you for my best-belovèd : Adieu, Love! adieu, Love! untrue Love! BROWN IS MY LOVE ROWN is my Love, but graceful: BROWN And each renowned whiteness Match'd with her lovely brown loseth its brightness. Fair is my Love, but scornful : Yet have seen despisèd White dainty lilies, and sad flowers well prizèd. C CYNTHIA YNTHIA, thy song and chaunting So strange a flame in gentle hearts awaketh That every cold desire wanton Love maketh Sounds to thy praise and vaunting, Of Syrens most commended That with delightful tunes for praise contended! For, when thou sweetly soundest, Thou neither kill'st nor woundest, But dost revive a number Of bodies buried in perpetual slumber. FROM THE PHOENIX NEST THE ANATOMY OF LOVE N OW what is love? I pray thee tell. It is that fountain and that well Yet, what is love? I pray thee say. Yet, what is love? I pray thee sain. It is a toothache, or like pain: It is a game where none doth gain : The lass saith Oh! and would full fain : And this is love, as I hear sain. Yet, what is love? I pray thee say. It is a Yea, it is a Nay: A pretty kind of sporting fray: It is a thing will soon away: Then take the vantage while you may ! And this is love, as I hear say. О Yet, what is love? I pray thee show. TO NIGHT NIGHT! O jealous Night! repugnant to my measures; O Night so long desired, yet cross to my content! There's none but only thou that can perform my pleasures, Yet none but only thou that hindereth my intent. Thy beams, thy spiteful beams, thy lamps that burn too brightly, drifts: Discover all my trains and naked lay my Sweet Night! withhold thy beams, withhold them till Whose joys in lack so long a hell of torment breeds; Sweet Night, sweet gentle Night! do not prolong my sorrow! Desire is guide to me, and love no loadstar needs. Let sailors gaze on stars and moon so freshly shining; Let them that miss the way be guided by the light: I know my Lady's bower, there needs no more divining, Affection sees in dark, and love hath eyes by night. SET SET ME WHERE PHOEBUS ET ME where Phœbus' heat the flowers slayeth, Or where continual snow withstands his forces; Set me where he his temperate rays displayeth, Or where he comes, or where he never courses! Set me in Fortune's grace, or else discharged ; In sweet and pleasant air, or dark and glooming; Where days and nights are lesser or enlarged; In years of strength, in failing age, or blooming! Set me in heaven, or earth, or in the centre ; Set me to these, or any other trial |