Enter Hymen with torch burning: a Boy in a white robe before him, singing.

ROSES, their sharp spines being gone,

Not royal in their smells alone;
But in their hue;

Maiden pinks, of odours faint;
Daisies, smell-less yet most quaint;
And sweet thyme true;

Primrose, first-born child of Ver,
Merry spring-time's harbinger;
With hair-bells slim;

Ox-lips, in their cradles growing;
Mary-golds, on death-beds blowing;

Here strew flowers!

All dear Nature's children sweet

Lie 'fore bride and bridegroom's feet,
Blessing their sense!

Not an angel of the air,

Bird melodious or bird fair,

Be absent hence!

The crow, the slanderous cuckoo, nor
The boding raven, nor chough hoar,
Nor chattering pie,

On our bird-house perch, or sing,
Or with them any discord bring;
But from it fly!

TELL ME!

HE TELL me, Dearest! what is love?
SHE'Tis a lightning from above;

'Tis an arrow; 'tis a fire;

'Tis a boy they call Desire.

BOTH

'Tis a grave

Gapes to have

Those poor fools that long to prove.

HE

Tell me more! Are women true?

SHE

Yes! some are; and some as you.
Some are willing, some are strange,

Since you men first taught to change.
BOTH — And till troth

Be in both

All shall love to love anew.

HE-Tell me more yet! Can they grieve? SHE- Yes! and sicken sore, but live,

And be wiser and delay

When you men are wise as they.

BOTH Then I see

Faith will be

Never till they both believe.

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER

59

WEDDING SONG

OLD BACK thy hours, dark Night! till we

HOLD

have done :

The day will come too soon.

Young maids will curse thee if thou stealest away And leavest their losses open to the day.

Stay! stay, and hide

The blushes of the bride!

Stay, gentle Night! and with thy darkness cover The kisses of her lover!

Stay, and confound her tears and her shrill cryings, Her weak denials, vows, and often dyings!

Stay, and hide all;

But help not, though she call!

SONG FOR A DANCE

HAKE OFF your heavy trance!

SHAKE

And leap into a dance

Such as no mortals use to tread :

Fit only for Apollo

To play to, for the Moon to lead,
And all the Stars to follow.

TRUE BEAUTY

MAY I FIND a woman fair,

And her mind as clear as air!

If her beauty go alone,

'Tis to me as if 'twere none.

May I find a woman rich,

And not of too high a pitch!
If that pride should cause disdain,
Tell me, Lover! where's thy gain.

May I find a woman wise,

And her falsehood not disguise!
Hath she wit as she hath will,
Double-arm'd she is to kill.

May I find a woman kind,
And not wavering like the wind!
How should I call that love mine
When 'tis his, and his, and thine?

May I find a woman true!
There is beauty's fairest hue:
There is beauty, love, and wit.

Happy he can compass it!

WILLIAM DRUMMOND

SEXTAIN

SINCE gone is my delight and only pleasure,

The last of all my hopes, the cheerful sun

That clear'd my life's dark day, Nature's sweet treasure,
More dear to me than all beneath the moon,
What resteth now but that upon this mountain
I weep till heaven transform me to a fountain?

Fresh, fair, delicious, crystal pearly fountain,

On whose smooth face to look She oft took pleasure!
Tell me (so may thy streams long cheer this mountain,
So serpent ne'er thee stain, nor scorch thee sun,
So may with gentle beams thee kiss the moon!)
Dost thou not mourn to want so fair a treasure?

While She her glass'd in thee rich Tagus' treasure
Thou envy needed not, nor yet the fountain

In which the hunter saw the naked Moon;
Absence hath robb'd thee of thy wealth and pleasure,
And I remain like marigold, of sun

Deprived, that dies, by shadow of some mountain.

Nymphs of the forests, nymphs who on this mountain Are wont to dance, showing your beauty's treasure

To goat-feet Sylvans and the wondering Sun!