Fair summer droops, droop men and beasts therefore,
Fear no more the heat o' the sun,
Follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow!
Follow your saint, follow with accents sweet!
Forget not yet the tried intent,
For her gait if she be walking,

Fresh Spring, the herald of love's mighty king,
From harmony, from heavenly harmony,
From Tuskane came my lady's worthy race,
Full fathom five thy father lies,

Glories, pleasures, pomps, delights, and ease,

God Lyæus, ever young,

Go, happy rose, and interwove,

Go, heart, unto the lamp of light,

Golden slumbers kiss your eyes,

Go, lovely rose,

Hail, old patrician trees, so great and good,
Happy those early days, when I,
Happy were he could finish forth his fate,
Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
Hark, now everything is still,

Hear me, O God! -

Heavenly fair Urania's son,

Hence all you vain delights,
Hence, loathed Melancholy,
Hence, vain deluding joys,
Here, a little child, I stand,
Here a pretty baby lies, -

Here she lies, a pretty bud,

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How happy was I when I saw her lead, -
How near to good is what is fair!
How should I your true love know,

I dare not ask a kiss,

I have done one braver thing,

I have lost, and lately, these, -

I never drank of Aganippe well,

In hope to 'scape the law, do nought amiss,

In the hour of my distress,

In vain he seeks for beauty that excelleth,
In what dark silent grove,

I saw Eternity the other night,

I saw my lady weep,

I saw my lady weeping, and Love did languish,

I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers,
I struck the board, and cried, “No more”,

It is not growing like a tree,

It is too clear a brightness for man's eye,
It was the winter wild,

-

I would thou wert not fair, or I were wise,

Jolly shepherd, shepherd on a hill,

Lady, when I behold the roses sprouting,
Lay a garland on my hearse, -

Leave me, O Love, which reachest but to dust,
Let me not to the marriage of true minds,
Let who list (for me) advance,

Like as a ship, that through the ocean wide,
Like as the damask rose you see,

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
Like to the clear in highest sphere,

Like to the falling of a star,

Little think'st thou, poor flower,

Live in these conquering leaves; live all the same,
Look how the flower which lingeringly doth fade,
Love bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,
Love in thy youth, fair maid, be wise,
Lovely kind, and kindly loving,

Love, that liveth and reigneth in my thought,

May! be thou never graced with birds that sing,

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Men call you fair, and you do credit it,

More than most fair, full of the living fire,
Mortality, behold and fear!

-

Most glorious Lord of life! that, on this day, -
My dear and only love, I pray,

My Girl, thou gazest much,

My light thou art, without thy glorious sight,-
My love in her attire doth shew her wit,

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My maiden Isabel,

My mind to me a kingdom is,

My soul, there is a country,

My sweetest Lesbia, let us live and love,
My true-love hath my heart, and I have his,

No longer mourn for me when I am dead,
No more, my dear, no more these counsels try,
Not, Celia, that I juster am,

Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul,
Now is the gentle season, freshly flowering,
Now is the month of maying,

Now is the time for mirth,

-

Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger,
Now the lusty Spring is seen,

Now winter nights enlarge,

-

Nymphs and Shepherds, dance no more,

O'er the smooth enamelled green,

O, fair sweet face! O, eyes celestial bright,
Of Neptune's empire let us sing,
Of Pan we sing, the best of singers, Pan,
O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O, never say that I was false of heart,
O, nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray,
O no, Beloved; I am most sure,

O no more, no more, too late,

O the merry Christ-Church bells,

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O the month of May, the merry month of May,

Out upon it, I have loved,

Over hill, over dale,

Over the mountains,

O waly, waly, up the bank,

O whither dost thou fly? cannot my vow,

Pack clouds away, and welcome day,
Phoebus, arise,

Pinch him, pinch him, black and blue,

Pipe, merry Annot,

Pluck the fruit and taste the pleasure,
Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth,
Praised be Diana's fair and harmless light,
Praise they that will times past, I joy to see,

Queen and huntress, chaste and fair,

Rose-cheeked Laura,

Roses, their sharp spines being gone,
Round about in a fairy ring-a,

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Round-a, round-a, keep your ring, -

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Sabrina fair,
See, O see!

-

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Sees not my love how Time resumes,
See the chariot at hand here of Love!

See where my love a-maying goes,

See where she issues in her beauty's pomp,

Set me where Phoebus' heat the flowers slayeth,
Shall I, wasting in despair,

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,

Since, there's no help, come, let us kiss and part,
Sing aloud! His praise rehearse,

Slow, slow, fresh fount, keep time with my salt tears,
Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king,
Steer hither, steer your wingèd pines,

Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes,

Sweet bird, that sing'st away the early hours,

Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright!

-

Sweet Echo, sweetest Nymph, that livest unseen,
Sweetest love, I do not go,

-

Sweet rose, whence is this hue,

Sweet, serene, sky-like flower,

Sweet Spring, thou com'st with all thy goodly train,
Sweet Suffolk owl, so trimly dight,

Sweet thrall, first step to Love's felicity,-

Sweet violets, Love's paradise, that spread,

Take, O take those lips away,

Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind,

Tell me where is fancy bred, -
That time of year thou mayst in me behold,
That which her slender waist confined, -
The expense of spirit in a waste of shame,
The fairy beam upon you,

The glories of our blood and state,

The hunt is up, the hunt is up,

The Lady Mary Villers lies,

The last and greatest herald of heaven's King,
The man of life upright,

-

The means, therefore, which unto us is lent,
The nightingale, as soon as April bringeth,
There is a lady sweet and kind,

There is none, O none but you,

The seas are quiet when the winds give o'er, -
The sootë season, that bud and bloom forth brings,
The world's a bubble, and the life of man,
They are all gone into the world of light!

They flee from me that sometime did me seek,
This Life, which seems so fair,

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This way, this way come, and hear,

Though I have twice been at the doors of death,
Thrice happy he who by some shady grove,

Thrice toss these oaken ashes in the air,
Tired with all these, for restful death I cry,

To ask for all thy love, and thy whole heart, 't were mad-

ness!

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