10 15 Now, one the better, then, another best; 25 To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, So many days my ewes have been with young; Pass'd over to the end they were created, And to conclude, the shepherd's homely curds, His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, Is far beyond a prince's delicates, His viands sparkling in a golden cup, 50 When, care, mistrust, and treason wait on him. 4 (From II Henry IV., Act III., i., 1597–98) How many thousand of my poorest subjects Are at this hour asleep! O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, 6 That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness? Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great, Under the canopies of costly state, And lull'd with sounds of sweetest melody? 10 O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile, 15 In loathsome beds; and leav'st the kingly couch, 20 A watch-case, or a common 'larum-bell? 25 With deaf'ning clamours in the slippery clouds, 31 HENRY V'S ADDRESS TO HIS SOLDIERS BEFORE HARFLEUR (From Henry V., Act III., i., 1599) Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead! 5 But when the blast of war blows in our ears, 10 As fearfully as does a galled rock To his full height! On, on, you nobless Eng lish, ISABELLA'S PLEA FOR MERCY (From the same, Act II., ii.) He's sentenc'd; 'tis too late. Too late? why, no, I, that do speak a word, Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, 60 If he had been as you, and you as he, 150 (From The Tempest, Act IV., i., 1610) Our revels now are ended: these our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air; And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve; And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, 155 Leave not a wrack behind: We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep. Thomas Nash c. 1567-1601 DEATH'S SUMMONS (From Summer's Last Will and Testament, 1600) Adieu, farewell, earth's bliss, This world uncertain is: 1 Fond are life's lustful joys, Death proves them all but toys. None from his darts can fly: I am sick, I must die. Lord, have mercy on us! Rich men, trust not in wealth, Physic himself must fade; All things to end are made; The plague 2 full swift goes by: Lord, have mercy on us! Beauty is but a flower, Which wrinkles will devour: Brightness falls from the air; Queens have died young and fair; Dust hath closed Helen's eye: I am sick, I must die. Lord, have mercy on us! Strength stoops unto the grave; Lord, have mercy on us! Alas! Alas! 72 Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took Found out the remedy; How would you be, If He, which is the top of judgment, should Hath no ears for to hear 1 Foolish. 2 London was suffering from the plague in 1598, when the play from which this song is taken was produced. SAINT HUGH! (From The Shoemaker's Holiday, 1594) Cold's the wind, and wet's the rain, Saint Hugh be our good speed! Ill is the weather that bringeth no gain, Troll the bowl,1 the jolly nut-brown bowl, Down-a-down, hey, down-a-down. Cold's the wind, and wet's the rain, John Donne 1573-1631 5 10 15 AN ELEGY UPON THE DEATH OF THE LADY MARKHAM (First published 1633) 5 Man is the world, and death the ocean 10 We, after God, new drown our world again. she. 15 20 In her this sea of death hath made no breach; Of which this flesh was) her soul shall inspire_25 1 Pass round the wine, or drink. 2 Let the bowl, (the gentle joy) come to me; let it circle or ring the compass, or circle, formed by those about the table. To ring compass, was therefore equivalent to let the bowl go round, or circulate freely. Annuls this world, to recompense it, shall Make and name them th' elixir of this all. They say the sea, when th' earth it gains, loseth too; 30 If carnal Death, the younger brother, do So, unobnoxious now, she hath buried both; 35 That kept her from sin, yet made her repent. 40 How little poison cracks a crystal glass! 45 50 Of sin on things, that sometimes may be such. To speak, that Death his vain haste may repent; 55 How fit for us, how even and how sweet, Of such a prey, and to his triumphs add. A VALEDICTION FORBIDDING MOURNING 61 Thus to use myself in jest, (Sometimes called "Upon Parting from his Mistris," written, 1612?) As virtuous men pass mildly away, Whilst some of their sad friends do say, "Now his breath goes," and some say, "No;" So let us melt, and make no noise, No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move; 'Twere profanation of our joys, To tell the laity our love. Moving of th' earth brings harm and fears, 5 Thus by feigned death to die. Yesternight the sun went hence, More wings and spurs than he. Nor a lost hour recall. 5 10 15 20 Ben Jonson 1573-1637 TO THE MEMORY OF MY BELOVED MASTER WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, AND WHAT HE HATH LEFT US (From First Folio edition of Shakespeare, 1623) To draw no envy, Shakespeare, on thy name, Am I thus ample to thy book and fame; While I confess thy writings to be such, As neither Man nor Muse can praise too much. 'Tis true, and all men's suffrage. But these ways 5 11 Were not the paths I meant unto thy praise; Greek, 20 25 From thence to honour thee I would not seek For names, but call forth thund'ring Eschylus,4 Euripides, and Sophocles to us, Pacuvius, Accius, him of Cordova dead, 35 Of all that insolent Greece or haughty Rome Sent forth, or since did from their ashes come. Triumph, my Britain, thou hast one to show, 41 To whom all scenes of Europe homage owe. 1 Chaucer, Spenser and Beaumont are buried near each other in the Poets' Corner in Westminster Abbey. Proximity to the tomb of Chaucer, the first great English poet, was considered as a great honor. Spenser had been granted this in 1599, and Beaumont in 1616. 2 One that would last, or go down to posterity. 3A satirical play upon the dramatist's name, since Thomas Kyd was anything but "Sporting," being chiefly known as the author of tragedies. 4 The three great poets, Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, represent three stages in the development of the Greek tragic drama; so Pacuvius, Accius, and "him of Cordova" (Seneca) stand in a similar manner for Roman tragedy-writing at successive epochs. The ancients are summoned to hear Shakespeare both as a tragic and a comic writer; the buskin, or shoe worn by Greek and Roman actors in tragedy, stands for tragedy; as the sock worn for comedy, means comedy. |