Go tell her through your chirping bills
As you by me are bidden,

To her is only known my love,

Which from the world is hidden;
Go, pretty birds, and tell her so,
See that your notes strain not too low,
For still methinks I see her frown!
Ye pretty wantons, warble.

Go tune your voices' harmony,
And sing I am her lover;
Strain loud and sweet, that every note
With sweet content may move her ;
And she that hath the sweetest voice,
Tell her I will not change my choice.
Yet still methinks I see her frown!
Ye pretty wantons, warble.

O fly, make haste, see, see, she falls
Into a pretty slumber;
Sing round about her rosy bed,

That, waking, she may wonder;

Say to her, 'tis her lover true

That sendeth love to you, to you;

And when you hear her kind reply,
Return with pleasant warblings.
THOMAS HEYWOOD

SONG 1

HOLD back thy hours, dark Night! till we have

done :

The Day will come too soon

Young maids will curse thee if thou steal'st away

1 From "The Maid's Tragedy," I., 2.

And leav'st 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.

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER

ASPATIA'S SONG1

LAY a garland on my hearse

Of the dismal yew;

Maidens, willow branches bear;
Say I died true :

My Love was false, but I was firm
From my hour of birth ;

Upon my buried body lie

Lightly, gentle earth.

JOHN FLETCHER

BEAUTY CLEAR AND FAIR 2

BEAUTY clear and fair,–

the air

Rather like a perfume dwells,

Where the violet and the rose
The blew veins in blush disclose,
And come to honour nothing else.

1 From "The Maid's Tragedy," II., I.
2 From "The Elder Brother," III., 5.

Where to live near,

And planted there,

Is to live, and still live new ;
Where to gain a favour is

More than light, perpetual bliss ;-
Make me live by serving you!

Dear again, back recall
To this light,

A stranger to himself and all ;
Both the wonder and the story
Shall be yours, and eke the glory;
I am your servant and your thrall.

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER

REQUIEM 1

OH fair sweet face, oh eyes celestial bright,

Twin stars in Heaven, that now adorn the night; Oh fruitful lips, where cherries ever grow, And damask cheeks, where all sweet beauties blow; Oh thou from head to foot divinely fair, Cupid's most cunning nets made of that hair, And as he weaves himself for curious eyes ; Oh me, Oh me, I am caught myself, he cries: Sweet rest about thee sweet and golden sleep, Soft peaceful thoughts, your hourly watches keep, Whilst I in wonder sing this sacrifice,

To beauty sacred, and those Angel-eyes.

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER

1 From "Woman Pleased," III., 4.

SONG 1

TAKE, oh take those lips away

That so sweetly were forsworn,
And those eyes, like break of day,
Lights that do mislead the Morn,
kisses bring again,

But

my
Seals of love, though seal'd in vain.

Hide, oh hide those hills of Snow,
Which thy frozen bosom bears,
On whose tops the Pinks that grow
Are of those that April wears,
But first set my poor heart free,
Bound in those Icy chains by thee.

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER

NOW THE LUSTY SPRING 2

Now

OW the lusty Spring is seen,
Golden yellow, gaudy Blew,
Daintily invite the view.
Everywhere, on every Green,
Roses blushing as they blow,
And inticing men to pull,

Lillies whiter than the snow,
Woodbines of sweet honey full.
All Love's Emblems and all cry,
Ladies, if not pluckt we dye.
Yet the lusty Spring hath staid,
Blushing red and purest white,
Daintily to love invite,

1 The first stanza is admittedly by Shakespeare. From

"The Bloody Brother," V., 2.

2 From "The Tragedy of Valentinian,” III., 4.

Every Woman, every Maid,
Cherries kissing as they grow;

And inviting men to taste,
Apples even ripe below,
Winding gently to the waste :
All Love's Emblems and all cry,

Ladies, if not pluckt we dye.

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER

HEAR YE LADIES1

HEAR ye Ladies that despise

What the mighty Love has done,

Fear examples, and be wise,

Fair Calisto was a Nun,

Læda sailing on the stream,

To deceive the hopes of man,
Love accounting but a dream,
Doted on a silver Swan,
Danaë in a Brazen Tower,
Where no love was, lov'd a Show'r.

Hear ye Ladies that are coy,

What the mighty Love can do,

Fear the fierceness of the Boy,

The chaste Moon he makes to woo :

Vesta kindling holy fires,

Circled round about with spies,

Never dreaming loose desires,

Doting at the Altar dies.

Ilion in a short hour higher

He can build, and once more fire.

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER

1 From "The Tragedy of Valentinian," II., 4.