But had I wist before I kiss'd

That love had been sae ill to win, I'd lock'd my heart in a case of gold, And pinn'd it with a silver pin. O! O! if my young babe were born, And set upon the nurse's knee ; And I myself were dead and gane, Since a maid again I'll never be !

PHILLADA.

O, what a pain is love!
How shall I bear it?
She will unconstant prove:
I greatly fear it.

She so torments my mind,

That my strength faileth,
And wavers with the wind
As a ship saileth :
Please her the best I may,
She loves still to gainsay :
Alack and well-a-day!
Phillada flouts me.

All the fair yesterday
She did pass by me,
She look'd another way

And would not spy me;

I woo'd her for to dine,

But could not get her;
Will had her to the wine-
He might intreat her.
With Daniel she did dance,
On me she look'd askance :
O thrice unhappy chance!
Phillada flouts me.

Fair Maid! be not so coy,

Do not disdain me!

I am my mother's joy :

Sweet! entertain me!
She'll give me when she dies
All that is fitting:
Her poultry, and her bees,
And her goose sitting,

A pair of mattrass beds,
And a bag full of shreds :
And yet, for all this guedes,
Phillada flouts me.

She hath a clout of mine,

Wrought with blue coventry,

Which she keeps for a sign
Of my fidelity:
But, 'faith, if she flinch,
She shall not wear it ;

To Tib, my t'other wench,
I mean to bear it.

And yet it grieves my heart

So soon from her to part:
Death strike me with his dart!
Phillada flouts me.

Thou shalt eat crudded cream
All the year lasting,
And drink the crystal stream
Pleasant in tasting,

Whig and whey whilst thou lust,
And ramble-berries,

Pie-lid and pastry crust,

Pears, plums, and cherries;

Thy raiment shall be thin,
Made of a weevil's skin-
Yet all's not worth a pin :
Phillada flouts me.

Fair maiden! have a care,

And in time take me!
I can have those as fair,

If you forsake me :

For Doll the dairy maid

Laugh'd at me lately,
And wanton Winifred

Favours me greatly.

One throws milk on my clothes,
T'other plays with my nose :
What wanting signs are those!
Phillada flouts me.

I can not work nor sleep
At all in season:

Love wounds my heart so deep,
Without all reason.

I 'gin to pine away

In my Love's shadow,
Like as a fat beast may

Penn'd in a meadow.

I shall be dead, I fear,
Within this thousand year:
And all for that my dear
Phillada flouts me.

BEAUTY BATHING.

Beauty sat bathing by a spring,

Where fairest shades did hide her : The winds blew calm, the birds did sing, The cool streams ran beside her.

My wanton thoughts enticed mine eye,
To see what was forbidden;
But better memory said-Fie!
So vain desire was chidden.
Hey, nonnie! nonnie!

Into a slumber then I fell,

When fond imagination

Seemed to see, but could not tell
Her feature or her fashion.

But even as babes in dreams do smile,
And sometimes fall a-weeping,
So I awaked, as wise this while
As when I fell a-sleeping.
Hey, nonnie! nonnie!

IMPORTUNE ME NO MORE!

When I was fair and young, and favour graced me,

Of many was I sought, their Mistress for to be:

But I did scorn them all; and answer'd them therefore-
Go! go ! go seek some otherwhere!

Importune me no more!

How many weeping eyes I made to pine with woe,
How many sighing hearts, I have no skill to show :
Yet I the prouder grew, and answer'd them therefore-
Go! go! go seek some otherwhere!

Importune me no more!

Then spake fair Venus for that fair victorious Boy,
And said " Fine Dame! since that you be so coy,
I will so pluck your plumes that you shall say no more—
Go! go! go seek some otherwhere!

Importune me no more!"

When she had said these words, such change grew in my breast That neither night nor day since that I could take any rest: Then lo! I did repent that I had said before

Go! go! go seek some otherwhere!

Importune me no more!

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

1564-1616.

ARIEL'S SONGS.

Come unto these yellow sands,

And then take hands!

Courtsied when you have and kiss'd

The wild waves whist

Foot it featly here and there!

And, sweet Sprites! the burden bear!
Hark! hark!

Hark! hark! I hear

The strain of strutting Chanticleer :
Cry Cock-a-doodle-doo!

Full fathom five thy father lies:
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes;
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell :

Ding-dong!

Hark! now I hear them-Ding-dong bell!

Where the bee sucks, there lurk I;

In a cowslip's bell I lie ;

There I couch when owls do cry ;

On the bat's back I do fly,

After sunset, merrily.

Merrily, merrily, shall I live now,

Under the blossom that hangs on the bough!