Ere with their glancing wheels they drive And them that yield but more despise. Where I may see the glorys from some shade. Meantime, whilst every verdant thing Reform the errors of the spring: But most procure, That violets may a longer age endure. But O, young beauty of the woods, Whom Nature courts with fruits and flow'rs, Gather the flowers, but spare the buds; Lest Flora, angry at thy crime To kill her infants in their prime, And ere we see, Nip, in the blossom, all our hopes in thee. MARVELL. ADONIS SLEEPING. IN midst of all, there lay a sleeping youth Of fondest beauty. Sideway his face reposed On one white arm, and tenderly unclosed, By tenderest pressure, a faint damask mouth To slumbery pout; just as the morning south Disparts a dew-lipp'd rose. Above his head, Stood serene Cupids watching silently. At the youth's slumber; while another took A willow bough, distilling odorous dew, In through the woven roof, and flutteringwise, Rain'd violets upon his sleeping eyes. SONNET. KEATS. LET me not to the marriage of true minds That looks on tempests, and is never shaken; Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; с Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out, e'en to the edge of doom. If this be error, and upon me prov'd, I never writ, and no man ever lov'd. SHAKSPERE. FROM "FAIR VIRTUE." HAIL, thou fairest of all creatures Thrice all hail! and blessed be Those that love and honour thee. This, thy picture, therefore shew I Yet no feare of rival know I, Neither touch of jealousie; For, the more make love to thee, I the more shall pleased be. I am no Italian lover, If thou mayst be won away, Win and wear thee he that may. Yet, in this thou mayst believe me; (So indifferent tho' I seem) Death with tortures would not grieve me, More than loss of thy esteem; For, if virtue me forsake, All, a scorn of me will make. Then, as I on thee relying That, unmatched we may prove,— WITHER. |