CI.

SONG.

HONEST lover whosoever,

If in all thy love there ever

Was one wavering thought, if thy flame
Were not still even, still the same :

Know this,

Thou lovest amiss,

And to love true,

Thou must begin again, and love anew.

If when she appears i' the room

Thou dost not quake, and art struck dumb,

And in striving this to cover

Dost not speak thy words twice over,

Know this,

Thou lovest amiss,

And to love true,

Thou must begin again, and love anew.

If fondly thou dost not mistake,
And all defects for graces take,

Persuad'st thyself that jests are broken

When she hath little or nothing spoken, Know this,

Thou lovest amiss,

And to love true,

Thou must begin again, and love anew.

If when thou appear'st to be within
Thou lett'st not men ask and ask again;
And when thou answerest, if it be

To what was asked thee, properly,
Know this,

Thou lovest amiss,

And to love true,

Thou must begin again, and love anew.

If when thy stomach calls to eat
Thou cutt'st not fingers 'stead of meat,

And with much gazing on her face

Dost not rise hungry from the place,
Know this,

Thou lovest amiss,

And to love true,

Thou must begin again, and love anew.

If by this thou dost discover

That thou art no perfect lover,

And desiring to love true,

Thou dost begin to love anew,

Know this,

Thou lovest amiss,

And to love true,

Thou must begin again, and love anew.

CII.

RICHARD CRAshaw,

1612-1649.

H

ON THE ASSUMPTION.

ARK! she is called, the parting hour is come;

Take thy farewell, poor world! Heaven must go home.

A piece of heavenly earth; purer and brighter

Than the chaste stars, whose choice lamps come to light her,

Whil'st through the crystal orbs, clearer than they,

She climbs; and makes a far more milky way.
She's called. Hark how the dear immortal dove
Sighs to his silver mate, 'Rise up,' my love,
Rise up, my fair, my spotless one,
The winter's past, the rain is gone;
The spring is come, the flowers appear,
No sweets, save thou, are wanting here.
Come away, my love,

Come away, my dove,

Cast off delay;

The court of heaven is come

To wait upon thee home;

Come, come away!

The flowers appear,

Or quickly would, wert thou once here.
The spring is come, or if it stay

'Tis to keep time with thy delay.

The rain is gone, except so much as we

Detain in needful tears to weep the want of thee. The winter's past,

Or if he make less haste,

His answer is, Why, she does so;

If summer come not, how can winter go?
Come away, come away!

The shrill winds chide, the waters weep thy stay,
The fountains murmur, and each loftiest tree
Bows lowest his leafy top to look for thee.
Come away, my love,

Come away, my dove,

Cast off delay;

The court of heaven is come

To wait upon thee home;

Come, come away.

She's called again.

And will she go?

When heaven bids come, who can say no?
Heaven calls her, and she must away,

Heaven will not, and she cannot stay.

Go then; go, glorious on the golden wings
Of the bright youth of heaven, that sings