Which said their bridal day should not be long : So forth those joyous birds did pass along And all the fowl which in his flood did dwell And their best service lend Against their wedding day, which was not long : At length they all to merry London came, There when they came whereas those bricky towers Next whereunto there stands a stately place, Of that great lord, which therein wont to dwell, But ah! here fits not well Old woes, but joys to tell Against the bridal day, which is not long: Sweet Thames! run softly, till I end my song. Yet therein now doth lodge a noble peer, Great England's glory and the world's wide wonder, Whose dreadful name late thro' all Spain did thunder, And Hercules' two pillars standing near Did make to quake and fear : Fair branch of honour, flower of chivalry! And endless happiness of thine own name That through thy prowess and victorious arms To ages following, Upon the bridal day, which is not long : Sweet Thames! run softly, till I end my song. From those high towers this noble lord issuing Above the rest were goodly to be seen Two gentle knights of lovely face and feature, With gifts of wit and ornaments of nature Fit for so goodly stature, That like the twins of Jove they seem'd in sight Received those two fair brides, their love's delight; Each one did make his bride Against their bridal day, which is not long : A LIV THE HAPPY HEART RT thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers? Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplexéd? Dost thou laugh to see how fools are vexéd Canst drink the waters of the crispéd spring? Swimm'st thou in wealth, yet sink'st in thine own tears? Then he that patiently want's burden bears O sweet content! O sweet O sweet content! ! LV T. Dekker 'HIS Life, which seems so fair, THI Is like a bubble blown up in the air By sporting children's breath, Who chase it every where And strive who can most motion it bequeath. And though it sometimes seem of its own might - But in that pomp it doth not long appear; For when 't is most admired, in a thought, Because it erst was nought, it turns to nought. W. Drummond LVI SOUL AND BODY OOR Soul, the centre of my sinful earth, Fool'd by those rebel powers that thee array, Why dost thou pine within, and suffer dearth, Painting thy outward walls so costly gay? Why so large cost, having so short a lease, Eat up thy charge? is this thy body's end? Then, Soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss, So shalt thou feed on death, that feeds on men, And death once dead, there's no more dying then. W. Shakespeare LVII LIFE HE World's a bubble, and the Life of Man THE Less than a span : In his conception wretched, from the womb Curst from his cradle, and brought up to years Who then to frail mortality shall trust, Yet whilst with sorrow here we live opprest, Courts are but only superficial schools The rural parts are turn'd into a den And where's a city from foul vice so free, Domestic cares afflict the husband's bed, Those that live single, take it for a curse, Some would have children: those that have them, moan What is it, then, to have, or have no wife, But single thraldom, or a double strife? Our own affection still at home to please To cross the seas to any foreign soil, |