The Golden Treasury | Page 4

spoil of beauty can forbid?
O! none, unless this miracle have might,?That in black ink my love may still shine bright.
W. SHAKESPEARE.
5. THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE.
Come live with me and be my Love,?And we will all the pleasures prove?That hills and valleys, dale and field,?And all the craggy mountains yield.
There will we sit upon the rocks?And see the shepherds feed their flocks?By shallow rivers, to whose falls?Melodious birds sing madrigals.
There will I make thee beds of roses?And a thousand fragrant posies,?A cap of flowers, and a kirtle?Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle.
A gown made of the finest wool,?Which from our pretty lambs we pull,?Fair-lined slippers for the cold,?With buckles of the purest gold.
A belt of straw and ivy-buds?With coral clasps and amber studs:?And if these pleasures may thee move,?Come live with me and be my Love.
Thy silver dishes for thy meat?As precious as the gods do eat,?Shall on an ivory table be?Prepared each day for thee and me.
The shepherd swains shall dance and sing?For thy delight each May-morning:?If these delights thy mind may move,?Then live with me and be my Love.
C. MARLOWE.
6. A MADRIGAL.
Crabbed Age and Youth?Cannot live together:?Youth is full of pleasance,?Age is full of care;?Youth like summer morn,?Age like winter weather;?Youth like summer brave,?Age like winter bare:?Youth is full of sport,?Age's breath is short,?Youth is nimble, Age is lame:?Youth is hot and bold,?Age is weak and cold;?Youth is wild, and Age is tame:--?Age, I do abhor thee,?Youth, I do adore thee;?O! my Love, my Love is young!?Age, I do defy thee--?O, sweet shepherd, hie thee,?For methinks thou stay'st too long.
W. SHAKESPEARE.
7.
Under the greenwood tree?Who loves to lie with me,?And tune his merry note?Unto the sweet bird's throat--?Come hither, come hither, come hither!
Here shall we see?No enemy?But winter and rough weather.
Who doth ambition shun?And loves to live i' the sun,?Seeking the food he eats?And pleased with what he gets--?Come hither, come hither, come hither!
Here shall he see?No enemy?But winter and rough weather.
W. SHAKESPEARE.
8.
It was a lover and his lass?With a hey, and a ho, and a hey-nonino!?That o'er the green cornfield did pass,?In the spring time, the only pretty ring time,?When birds do sing hey ding a ding:?Sweet lovers love the Spring.?Between the acres of the rye?These pretty country folks would lie:?This carol they began that hour,?How that life was but a flower:?And therefore take the present time?With a hey, and a ho, and a hey-nonino!?For love is crown��d with the prime?In spring time, the only pretty ring time,?When birds do sing, hey ding a ding;?Sweet lovers love the Spring.
W. SHAKESPEARE.
9. PRESENT IN ABSENCE.
Absence, hear thou my protestation
Against thy strength,?Distance, and length:?Do what thou canst for alteration:?For hearts of truest mettle?Absence doth join, and Time doth settle.
Who loves a mistress of such quality,
He soon hath found?Affection's ground?Beyond time, place, and all mortality.?To hearts that cannot vary?Absence is Presence, Time doth tarry.
By absence this good means I gain,
That I can catch her,?Where none can watch her,?In some close corner of my brain:?There I embrace and kiss her,?And so I both enjoy and miss her.
ANON.
10. ABSENCE.
Being your slave what should I do but tend?Upon the hours and times of your desire??I have no precious time at all to spend,?Nor services to do, till you require:
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour?Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,?Nor think the bitterness of absence sour?When you have bid your servant once adieu:
Nor dare I question with my jealous thought?Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,?But like a sad slave, stay and think of nought?Save where you are, how happy you make those;--
So true a fool is love, that in your will,?Though you do any thing, he thinks no ill.
W. SHAKESPEARE.
11.
How like a winter hath my absence been?From Thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!?What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen,?What old December's bareness everywhere!
And yet this time removed was summer's time:?The teeming autumn, big with rich increase,?Bearing the wanton burden of the prime?Like widow'd wombs after their lords' decease:
Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me?But hope of orphans, and unfather'd fruit;?For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,?And, thou away, the very birds are mute;
Or if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer,?That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.
W. SHAKESPEARE.
12. A CONSOLATION.
When in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes?I all alone beweep my outcast state,?And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,?And look upon myself, and curse my fate;
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,?Featured like him, like him with friends possest,?Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,?With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts my self almost despising,?Haply I think on Thee--and then my state,?Like to the lark at break of day arising?From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remember'd, such wealth brings?That then I