This bird's estate I may compare with mine, And as all those which hear this bird complain So She for whom I wail both day and night MY LOVE IS PAST LOVE hath delight in sweet delicious fare; Love never takes good Counsel for his friend; Love is distraught of wit and hath no end; Love doth much harm through jealousy's assault; These are the smallest faults that lurk in Love; All this I write that others may beware, WITH THE MAY-QUEEN ITH fragrant flowers we strew the May, For though this clime were blest of yore, O beauteous Queen of second Troy ! Now th' air is sweeter than sweet balm, O beauteous Queen of second Troy ! Now birds record new harmony, SONNET BLAME me not, dear Love! though I talk at randon, Terming thee scornful, proud, unkind, disdainful, Since all I do can not my woes abandon, Or rid me of the yoke I feel so painful. Inforced to the first in mournful ditty, And take thou no offence if I misdeemed! Thy beauty's glory quencheth thy pride's blemish : Better it is of all to be esteemed Fair and too proud than not fair and too squeamish. And seeing thou must scorn, and 'tis approvèd,. Scorn to be ruthless since thou art beloved! ANTHONY MUNDAY DIRGE FOR ROBIN HOOD ́EEP, weep, ye woodmen ! wail; WEER Your hands with sorrow wring! Here lie his primer and his beads And, as they fall, shed tears and say GEORGE PEELE CUPID'S CURSE ENONE FAIR and fair and twice so fair, - The fairest shepherd on our green, PARIS - Fair and fair and twice so fair, ENONE Thy Love is fair for thee alone, And for no other Ladie. My Love is fair, my Love is gay, They that do change old love for new, BOTH They that do change ENONE-Fair and fair and twice so fair, As fair as any may be,— The fairest shepherd on our green, As fair as any may be,— Thy Love is fair for thee alone, My Love can pipe, my Love can sing, My Love can many a pretty thing; And of his lovely praises ring My merry merry roundelays : They that do change old love for new, They that do change old love for new, Pray Gods, they change for worse! BOTH Fair and fair о COLIN'S SONG GENTLE LOVE! ungentle for thy deed, A bloody mark, With piercing shot to bleed : Shoot soft, sweet Love! for fear thou shoot amiss, For fear too keen Thy arrows been And hit the heart where my Beloved is! Too fair that fortune were, nor never I Shall be so blest Among the rest, That Love shall seize on her by sympathy: Then since with Love my prayèrs bear no boot, This doth remain To cease my pain : I take the wound and die at Venus' foot. |