Phyl. Phyllida, thy true love, calleth thee, Arise and keep thy flock with me! Cor. Phyllida, my true love, is it she? I come and keep my flock with thee. Phyl. Here are cherries ripe for my Corydon; Cor. Here's my oaten pipe, my lovely one, Phyl. Here are threads, my true love, fine as silk, A pair of stockings white as milk. Cor. Here are reeds, my true love, fine and neat, To make thee, to make thee, A bonnet to withstand the heat. Phyl. I will gather flowers, my Corydon, Cor. I will gather pears, my lovely one, Phyl. I will buy my true love garters gay To wear about his legs so tall. Cor. I will buy my true love yellow say, To wear about her middle small. Phyl. When my Corydon sits on a hill Cor. When my lovely one goes to her wheel, Phyl. Sure methinks my true love doth excel Our Pan, that old Arcadian knight. Cor. And methinks my true love bears the bell For clearness, for clearness, Beyond the nymphs that be so bright. Phyl. Had my Corydon, my Corydon, Cor. Had my lovely one, my lovely one, Phyl. Cynthia Endymion had refused, My Corydon to play withal. Cor. The Queen of Love had been excused My Phyllida the golden ball. Phyl. Yonder comes my mother, Corydon, Cor. Under yonder beech, my lovely one, Phyl. Say to her thy true love was not here: To-morrow is another day. Cor. Doubt me not, my true love, do not fear; Farewell then, farewell then! Heaven keep our loves alway. Anon. 7. Summons to Love PHOEBUS, arise! And paint the sable skies With azure, white, and red; Rouse Memnon's mother from her Tithon's bed, Give life to this dark world which lieth dead; In larger locks than thou wast wont before, With diadem of pearl thy temples fair: Chase hence the ugly night Which serves but to make dear thy glorious light This is that happy morn, That day, long-wished day Of all my life so dark, (If cruel stars have not my ruin sworn And fates not hope betray), Which, only white, deserves A diamond for ever should it mark. This is the morn should bring unto this grove My Love, to hear and recompense my love. Fair King, who all preserves, But show thy blushing beams, And thou two sweeter eyes Shalt see than those which by Penèus' streams Did once thy heart surprise. Nay, suns, which shine as clear As thou when two thou did to Rome appear. Now, Flora, deck thyself in fairest guise: A voice surpassing far Amphion's lyre, Let Zephyr only breathe, Kissing sometimes these purple ports of death. The winds all silent are, Beyond the hills, to shun his flaming wheels: And everything, save Her, who all should grace. W. Drummond 8. On a Fair Morning N a fair morning, as I came by the way, ON Met I with a merry maid in the merry month of May; When a sweet love sings his lovely lay And every bird upon the bush bechirps it up so gay: With a heave and a ho! with a heave and a ho! Sing, care away, care away, let the world go! Sing, care away, care away, let the world go! Anon. 9. Stay, O Sweet TAY, O sweet, and do not rise! STA The light that shines comes from thine eyes; The day breaks not: it is my heart, Because that you and I must part. Stay! or else my joys will die, 'Tis true, 'tis day: what though it be? O, wilt thou therefore rise from me? Why should we rise because 'tis light? Did we lie down because 'twas night? Love, which in spite of darkness brought us hither, Should in despite of light keep us together. Light hath no tongue, but is all eye. If it could speak as well as spy, This were the worst that it could say: That, being well, I fain would stay, And that I lov'd my heart and honour so, That I would not from him, that had them, go. Must business thee from hence remove? Oh, that's the worse disease of love! Admit, but not the busied man. He, which hath business, and makes love, doth do Such wrong, as when a married man doth woo. J. Donne |