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Which said their bridal day should not be long:
And gentle Echo from the neighbour ground
Their accents did resound.
So forth those joyous birds did pass along
Adown the lee that to them murmur'd low,
As he would speak but that he lack'd a tongue,
Yet did by signs his glad affection show,
Making his stream run slow.
And all the fowl which in his flood did dwell
'Gan flock about these twain, that did excel
The rest, so far as Cynthia doth shend
The lesser stars. So they, enranged well,
Did on those two attend,
And their best service lend
Against their wedding day, which was not long :

Sweet Thames ! run softly, till I end my song.

At length they all to merry London came,
To merry London, my most kindly nurse,
That to me gave this life's first native source,
Though from another place I take my name,
An house of ancient fame :
There when they came whereas those bricky towers
The which on Thames broad aged back do ride,
Where now the studious lawyers have their bowers,
There whilome wont the Templar-knights to bide,
Till they decay'd through pride;
Next whereunto there stands a stately place,
Where oft I gainéd gifts and goodly grace
Of that great lord, which therein wont to dwell,
Whose want too well now feels my friendless case ;
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!
That fillest England with thy triumphs' fame,
Joy have thou of thy noble victory,
And endless happiness of thine own name
That promiseth the same;
That through thy prowess and victorious arms,
Thy country may be freed from foreign harms,
And great Eliza's glorious name may ring
Through all the world, fill'd with thy wide alarms
Which some brave Muse may sing
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 issúing
Like radiant Hesper, when his golden hair
In th' ocean billows he hath bathéd fair,
Descended to the river's open viewing
With a great train ensuing.
Above the rest were goodly to be seen
Two gentle knights of lovely face and feature,
Beseeming well the bower of any queen
With gifts of wit and ornaments of nature
Fit for so goodly stature,
That like the twins of Jove they seem'd in sigli
Which deck the baldric of the Heavens bright;
They two, forth pacing to the river's side,
Received those two fair brides, their love's delight;
Which, at th' appointed tide,
Each one did make his bride

Against their bridal day, which is not long :
Sweet Thames ! run softly, till I end my song.

E. Spenser

LIV

THE HAPPY HEART

ART thou porn yet hast thou golden slumbers?
Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplexéd ?

O punishment !
Dost thou laugh to see how fools are vexéd:
To add to golden numbers, golden numbers ?
O sweet content ! O sweet O sweet content !

Work apace, apace, apace, apace ;

Honest labour bears a lovely face;
Then hey nonny nonny, hey nonny nonny !

Canst drink the waters of the crispéd spring ?

O sweet content !
Swimm'st thou in wealth, yet sink'st in thine own tears ?

O punishment !
Then he that patiently want's burden bears
No burden bears, but is a king, a king!
O sweet content ! O sweet O sweet content !

Work apace, apace, apace, apace ;

Honest labour bears a lovely face ;
Then hey nonny nonny, hey nonny nonny !

T. Dekker

LV

HIS Life, which seems so fair,

Tislikele ubiste blows up finithe 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
Like to an eye of gold to be fix'd there,
And firm to hover in that empty height,
That only is because it is so light.
— 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

POB

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,
Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend ?
Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
Eat up thy charge? is this thy body's end?

Then, Soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss,
And let that pine to aggravate thy store ;
Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross ;
Within be fed, without.be rich no more :-

So shalt thou feed on death, that feeds on men, And death once dead, there's no more dying then.

W. Shakespeare

LVII

LIFE

THE Less than a span

'HE World 's a bubble, and the Life of Man

Less than a
In his conception wretched, from the womb

So to the tomb ;
Curst from his cradle, and brought up to years

With cares and fears.
Who then to frail mortality shall trust,
But limns on water, or but writes in dust

Yet whilst with sorrow here we live opprest,

What life is best?
Courts are but only superficial schools

To dandle fools :
The rural parts are turn’d into a den

Of savage men :
And where's a city from foul vice so free,
But may be term’d the worst of all the three ?

Domestic cares afflict the husband's bed,

Or pains his head :
Those that live single, take it for a curse,

Or do things worse :
Some would have children : those that have them, moan

Or wish them gone :
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

Is a disease :
To cross the seas to any foreign soil,

Peril and toil :

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