PHILON THE SHEPHERD

HIS SONG

HILE that the sun with his beams hot

WHILE

Scorched the fruits in vale and mountain,

Philon, the shepherd, late forgot

Sitting beside a crystal fountain,

In shadow of a green oak tree,

Upon his pipe this song play'd he: Adieu, Love! adieu, Love! untrue Love! Untrue Love, untrue Love! adieu, Love! Your mind is light, soon lost for a new love.

So long as I was in your sight,

I was your heart, your soul, your treasure; And evermore you sobb'd and sigh'd, Burning in flames beyond all measure. Three days endured your love for me, And it was lost in other three.

Adieu, Love! adieu, Love! untrue Love! Untrue Love, untrue Love! adieu, Love! Your mind is light, soon lost for a new love.

Another shepherd you did see,

To whom your heart was soon enchainèd;
Full soon your love was leapt from me,
Full soon my place he had obtainèd :

Soon came a third your love to win;
And we were out, and he was in.
Adieu, Love! adieu, Love! untrue Love!
Untrue Love! untrue Love! adieu, Love!
Your mind is light, soon lost for a new love.

Sure, you have made me passing glad
That you your mind so soon removèd,
Before that I the leisure had

To choose you for my best-beloved:
For all my love was past and done
Two days before it was begun.

Adieu, Love! adieu, Love! untrue Love!
Untrue Love, untrue Love! adieu, Love!
Your mind is light, soon lost for a new love.

BROWN IS MY LOVE

ROWN is my Love, but graceful:

BROWN

And each renowned whiteness

Match'd with her lovely brown loseth its brightness.

Fair is my Love, but scornful :

Yet have I seen despisèd

White dainty lilies, and sad flowers well prizèd.

CYNTHIA

CYNTHIA, thy song and chaunting

So strange a flame in gentle hearts awaketh That every cold desire wanton Love maketh Sounds to thy praise and vaunting,

Of Syrens most commended

That with delightful tunes for praise contended! For, when thou sweetly soundest,

Thou neither kill'st nor woundest,

But dost revive a number

Of bodies buried in perpetual slumber.

FROM THE PHOENIX NEST

THE ANATOMY OF LOVE

OW what is love? I pray thee tell.

Now

It is that fountain and that well
Where pleasure and repentance dwell:
It is perhaps that sauncing bell
That tolls all in to heaven or hell:
And this is love, as I hear tell.

Yet, what is love? I pray thee say.
It is a work on holiday :

It is December match'd with May:
When lusty bloods, in fresh array,
Hear ten months after of the play :
And this is love, as I hear say.

Yet, what is love? I pray thee sain.
It is a sunshine mix'd with rain:
It is a toothache, or like pain:

It is a game where none doth gain :
The lass saith Oh! and would full fain:

And this is love, as I hear sain.

Yet, what is love? I pray thee say.

It is a Yea, it is a Nay:

A pretty kind of sporting fray :

It is a thing will soon away :

Then take the vantage while you may
And this is love, as I hear say.

!

о

Yet, what is love? I pray thee show.
A thing that creeps, it can not go :
A prize that passeth to and fro :

A thing for me, a thing for mo:
And he that proves must find it so :

And this is love, sweet friend! I trow.

TO NIGHT

NIGHT! O jealous Night! repugnant to my

measures;

O Night so long desired, yet cross to my content!
There's none but only thou that can perform my

Yet none but only thou that hindereth

pleasures,

my intent.

Thy beams, thy spiteful beams, thy lamps that burn

too brightly,

Discover all my trains and naked lay my drifts :
That night by night I hope, yet fails my purpose nightly,
Thy envious glaring gleam defeateth so my shifts.

Sweet Night! withhold thy beams, withhold them till

to-morrow,

Whose joys in lack so long a hell of torment breeds ; Sweet Night, sweet gentle Night! do not prolong my sorrow! Desire is guide to me, and love no loadstar needs.

Let sailors gaze on stars and moon so freshly shining;
Let them that miss the way be guided by the light:
I know my Lady's bower, there needs no more divining,

Affection sees in dark, and love hath eyes by night.

Dame Cynthia! couch awhile, hold in thy horns from shining,

And glad not louring Night with thy too glorious rays;
But be she dim and dark, tempestuous and repining,
That in her spite my sport may work thy endless praise.
And when my will is wrought, then Cynthia ! shine,
good lady!
All other nights and days, in honour of that night,
That happy heavenly night, that night so dark and shady,
Wherein my love had eyes that lighted my delight!

SET

SET ME WHERE PHEBUS

ET ME where Phoebus' heat the flowers slayeth, Or where continual snow withstands his forces; Set me where he his temperate rays displayeth,

Or where he comes, or where he never courses !

Set me in Fortune's grace, or else discharged;

In sweet and pleasant air, or dark and glooming;
Where days and nights are lesser or enlargèd;

In years of strength, in failing age, or blooming!
Set me in heaven, or earth, or in the centre;
Low in a vale, or on a mountain placèd;
Set me to danger, peril, or adventure,
Graced by fame, or infamy disgracèd!

Set me to these, or any other trial
Except my Mistress' anger and denial.