Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. Who doth ambition shun And loves to live i' the sun, And pleased with what he gets — Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. VIII W. Shakespeare T was a lover and his lass IT With a hey and a ho, and a hey-nonino ! That o'er the green cornfield did pass In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, When birds do sing hey ding a ding: Sweet lovers love the Spring. Between the acres of the rye This carol they began that hour, And therefore take the present time With a hey and a ho and a hey-nonino ! For love is crownéd with the prime Sweet lovers love the Spring. W. Shakespear? IX PRESENT IN ABSENCE ABSENCE, hear thou my protestation Against thy strength, Distance, and length; Do what thou canst for alteration: For hearts of truest mettle Absence doth join, and Time doth settle. Who loves a mistress of such quality, Affection's ground Beyond time, place, and all mortality Absence is Presence, Time doth tarry. By absence this good means I gain, Where none can watch her, In some close corner of my brain : Anon. X ABSENCE BEING your slave, what should I do but tend Upon the hours and time of your desire? I have no precious time at all to spend Nor services to do, till you require : Nor dare I chide the world-without-end-hour When you have bid your servant once adieu : Nor dare I question with my jealous thought So true a fool is love, that in your will, W. Shakespeare H XI OW like a winter hath my absence been From Thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year! What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen, What old December's bareness everywhere! And yet this time removed was summer's time: Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me Or if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer, XII A CONSOLATION HEN in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes W Hall alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, For thy sweet love remember'd, such wealth brings XIII THE UNCHANGEABLE NEVER say that I was false of heart, Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify : As easy might I from myself depart As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie; That is my home of love; if I have ranged, Just to the time, not with the time exchanged, Never believe, though in my nature reign'd For nothing this wide universe I call, XIV T 'O me, fair Friend, you never can be old, Such seems your beauty still. your eye I eyed Three winters cold Have from the forests shook three summers' pride; Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd, Ah! yet doth beauty, like a dial hand, For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred, · W. Shakespeare |