Thou for whom e'en Jove would swear Juno but an Ethiope were, Turning mortal for thy love. W. Shakespeare F XXI A SUPPLICATION ORGET not yet the tried intent Of such a truth as I have meant ; My great travail so gladly spent, Forget not yet! Forget not yet when first began Forget not yet! Forget not yet the great assays, Forget not yet! Forget not! O, forget not this, Forget not yet! Forget not then thine own approved Forget not this! Sir T. Wyat XXII TO AURORA IF thou knew'st how thou thyself dost harm, And dost prejudge thy bliss, and spoil my rest; Then thou wouldst melt the ice out of thy breast And thy relenting heart would kindly warm. O if thy pride did not our joys controul, Then all my thoughts should in thy visage shine, And whilst we thus should make our sorrows one, W. Alexander, Earl of Sterline Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove :--- O no! it is an ever-fixéd mark That looks on tempests, and is never shaken ; It is the star to every wandering bark Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, If this be error, and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved. W. Shakespeare MY XXIV A DITTY Y true-love hath my heart, and I have his, By just exchange one to the other given : I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss, There never was a better bargain driven : My true-love hath my heart, and I have his. His heart in me keeps him and me in one, I cherish his because in me it bides: My true-love hath my heart, and I have his. Sir P. Sidney XXV LOVE'S OMNIPRESENCE TERE I as base as is the lowly plain, Yet should the thoughts of me your humble swain Were I as high as heaven above the plain, Were you the earth, dear Love, and I the skies, Whereso'er I am, below, or else above you, 7. Sylvester XXVI CARPE DIEM MISTRESS mine, where are you roaming? O stay and hear! your true-love 's coming Trip no further, pretty sweeting, Every wise man's son doth know. What is love? 't is not hereafter; In delay there lies no plenty, Then come kiss me, Sweet-and-twenty, Youth's a stuff will not endure. W. Shakespeare XXVII WINTER WHEN icicles hang by the wall WHEN And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall, And milk comes frozen home in pail ; Tuwhit! tuwhoo! A merry note! When all around the wind doth blow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw; Tuwhit! tuwhoo! A merry note ! While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. W. Shakespeare XXVIII `HAT time of year thou may'st in me behold hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, |