My lute, be as thou wert when thou didst grow With thy green mother in some shady grove, When immelodious winds but made thee move, And birds their ramage did on thee bestow.
Since that dear Voice which did thy sounds approve, Which wont in such harmonious strains to flow, Is reft from Earth to tune those spheres above, What art thou but a harbinger of woe ?
Thy pleasing notes be pleasing notes no more, But orphans' wailings to the fainting ear ;
Each stroke a sigh, each sound draws forth a tear ; For which be silent as in woods before :
Or if that any hand to touch thee deign, Like widow'd turtle still her loss complain. W. DRUMMOND
O me! what eyes hath love put in my head Which have no correspondence with true sight: Or if they have, where is my judgement fled That censures falsely what they see aright ? If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote, What means the world to say it is not so ? If it be not, then love doth well denote Love's eye is not so true as all men's: No, How can it? O how can love's eye be true, That is so vex'd with watching and with tears ? No marvel then though I mistake my view: The sun itself sees not till heaven clears.
O cunning Love! with tears thou keep'st me blind, Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find! W. SHAKESPEARE
THE UNFAITHFUL SHEPHERDESS
While that the sun with his beams hot Scorchéd the fruits in vale and mountain, 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 new love.
So long as I was in your sight
I was your heart, your soul, and treasure; And evermore you sobb'd and sigh'd Burning in flames beyond all measure : -Three days endured your love to 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 new love.
Another Shepherd you did see
To whom your heart was soon enchainéd ; Full soon your love was leapt from me, Full soon my place he had obtained.
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 new love.
Sure you have made me passing glad That you your mind so soon removéd, Before that I the leisure had
To choose you for my best beloved :
For all your love was past and done Two days before it was begun :— Adieu Love, adieu Love, untrue Love, Untrue Love, untrue Love, adieu Love; Your mind is light, soon lost for new love.
If women could be fair, and yet not fond, Or that their love were firm, not fickle still, I would not marvel that they make men bond By service long to purchase their goodwill; But when I see how frail those creatures are, I muse that men forget themselves so far.
To mark the choice they make, and how they change, How oft from Phoebus they do flee to Pan ; Unsettled still, like haggards wild they range, These gentle birds that fly from man to man ; Who would not scorn and shake them from the fist, And let them fly, fair fools, which way they list ?
Yet for disport we fawn and flatter both, To pass the time when nothing else can please, And train them to our lure with subtle oath, Till, weary of their wiles, ourselves we ease; And then we say when we their fancy try, To play with fools, O what a fool was I !
E. VERE, EARL OF OXFORD
Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind
As man's ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh ho sing heigh ho! unto the green holly: Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly : Then, heigh ho! the holly! This life is most jolly.
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, Thou dost not bite so nigh As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp, Thy sting is not so sharp
As friend remember'd not.
Heigh ho! sing heigh ho! unto the green holly: Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly : Then, heigh ho! the holly!
My thoughts hold mortal strife;
I do detest my life,
And with lamenting cries
Peace to my soul to bring
Oft call that prince which here doth monarchize : -But he, grim grinning King,
Who caitiffs scorns, and doth the blest surprise, Late having deck'd with beauty's rose his tomb, Disdains to crop a weed, and will not come. W. DRUMMOND
DIRGE OF LOVE
Come away, come away, Death, And in sad cypres let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath; I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O prepare it!
My part of death, no one so true Did share it.
Not a flower, not a flower sweet On my black coffin let there be strown; Not a friend, not a friend greet
My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown : A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O where
Sad true lover never find my grave, To weep there.
Fear no more the heat o' the sun Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone and ta'en thy wages:
Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
Fear no more the frown o' the great, Thou art past the tyrant's stroke ; Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak: The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.
Fear no more the lightning-flash
Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finish'd joy and moan: All lovers young, all lovers must Consign to thee, and come to dust.
« ПретходнаНастави » |