Upon his head a wreath, that was enrold To reape the ripened fruits the which the earth had yold.' Lastly, came Winter cloathed all in frize, Chattering his teeth for cold that did him chill; In his right hand a tipped staffe he held, 10 7 Yielded. 8 Nose. 9 Retort. 10 Old age. 11 Wield, move. 43. SONNET LXXXVIII. Like as the culver,' on the bared bough, So I alone, now left disconsolate, Mourn to myself the absence of my love, And, wand'ring here and there, all desolate, Seek with my plaints to match that mournful dove: Ne joy of aught that under heaven doth hove, Whose sweet aspect both God and man can move, Dark is my day, whiles her fair light I miss, And dead my life, that wants such lively bliss. 44. SIR PHILIP SYDNEY. 1554-1586. (Manual, p. 78.) For Extracts from his Prose Works, see next Chapter. SONNET TO SLEEP. Come, sleep, O sleep, the certain knot of peace, O make me in those civil wars to cease! I will good tribute pay if thou do so. SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 1552-1618. For Extracts from his Prose Works, see next Chapter. 45. A PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE. By Christopher Marlowe. Come live with me and be my love, Where we will sit on rising rocks, Pleased will I make thee beds of roses, A jaunty gown of finest wool, A belt of straw and ivy buds, If these, these pleasures can thee move, THE NYMPH'S REPLY TO THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD. By Sir Walter Raleigh. If all the world and Love were young, But fading flowers in every field, Thy gown, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy belt of straw, and ivy-buds, But could Youth last, could Love still breed; Then those delights my mind might move THE SOUL'S ERRAND. This beautiful poem appeared anonymously in "Davison's Poetical Rhapsody," in 1608. It has been ascribed to Sir Walter Raleigh by many able critics. Go, Soul, the Body's guest, Upon a thankless errand; Fear not to touch the best; The truth shall be thy warrant. Go, since I needs must die, And give them all the lie. Go, tell the Court it glows, And shines like painted wood; Tell Potentates, they live Acting, but oh! their actions Not loved, unless they give; Nor strong, but by their factions. If Potentates reply, Give Potentates the lie. Tell men of high condition, That rule affairs of state, Their purpose is ambition; Their practice only hate. And if they do reply, Then give them all the lie. Tell those that brave it most, They beg for more by spending, Who, in their greatest cost, Seek nothing but commending. Tell Zeal it lacks devotion; Tell Flesh it is but dust: Tell Age it daily wasteth; Tell Honor how it alters; Tell Beauty that it blasteth; Tell Favor that she falters: And as they do reply, Give every one the lie. Tell Wit how much it wrangles Herself in over-wiseness: Then give them both the lie. Tell Physic of her boldness; Tell Charity of coldness; Tell Law it is contention: And if they yield reply, Then give them still the lie. Tell Fortune of her blindness; Tell Nature of decay; Tell Friendship of unkindness; Tell Justice of delay: And if they do reply, Then give them all the lie. Tell Arts they have no soundness, But vary by esteeming; Tell Schools they lack profoundness, Give Arts and Schools the lie. Tell Faith it's fled the city; Tell how the Country erreth; So, when thou hast, as I Commanded thee, done blabbing; Deserves no less than stabbing; Yet stab at thee who will, No stab the Soul can kill. 46. SAMUEL DANIEL. 1562-1619. (Manual, p. 8o., RICHARD II. ON THE MORNING BEFORE HIS MURDEX. From the Third Book of the Civil Wars. The morning of that day which was his last After a weary rest, rising to pain, Out at a little grate his eyes he cast Upon those bordering hills and open plain, Where others' liberty makes him complain The more his own, and grieves his soul the more, 1 O happy man, saith he, that lo I see, Grazing his cattle in those pleasant fields, Other than what he is he would not be, Nor change his state with him that sceptre wields. Thou sitt'st at home safe by thy quiet fire, 1 Comparing. |