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Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short; Yet at my parting sweetly did she smile,
6 In scorn of friendship, nill I construe whether: Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold; 'T may be, she joy'd to jest at my exile, Youth is wild, and age is tame.
'T may be, again to make me wander thither: Age, I do abhor thee, youth, I do adore thee; 'Wander,' a word for shadows like myself, 11 Ol my love, my love is young:
As take the pain, but cannot pluck the pelf. Age, I do defy thee: O! sweet shepherd, hie thee, Lord! how mine eyes throw gazes to the east; For methinks thou stay'st too long.
My heart doth charge the watch; the morning
Doth cite each moving sense from idle rest. Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good;
Not daring trust the office of mine eyes, A shining gloss that vadeth suddenly;
While Philomela sits and sings, I sit and A flower that dies when first it ’gins to bud;
mark, A brittle glass that's broken presently: A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower,
And wish her lays were tuned like the lark; 18 Lost, vaded, broken, dead within an hour. 6 For she doth welcome daylight with her ditty,
And drives away dark dismal-dreaming night: And as goods lost are seld or never found,
The night so pack'd, I post unto my pretty; As vaded gloss no rubbing will refresh, As flowers dead lie wither'd on the ground,
Heart hath his hope, and eyes their wished
sight; As broken glass no cement can redress,
Sorrow chang'd to solace, solace mix'd with So beauty blemish'd once 's for ever lost,
sorrow; In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost. 12
For why, she sigh'd and bade me come to XIV. Good night, good rest. Ah! neither be my share: Were I with her, the night would post too soon; She bade good night that kept my rest away; But now are minutes added to the hours; And daff'd me to a cabin hang'd with care, To spite me now, each minute seems a moon; To descant on the doubts of my decay.
Yet not for me, shine sun to succour flowers! 'Farewell,' quoth she, “and come again to- Pack night, peep day; good day, of night now
borrow: Fare well I could not, for I supp'd with sor- Short, night, to-night, and length thyself to
But one must be refused; more mickle was the It was a lording's daughter, the fairest one of pain three,
That nothing could be used to turn them both That liked of her master as well as well might to gain, be,
For of the two the trusty knight was wounded Till looking on an Englishman, the fair'st that with disdain: eye could see,
Alas! she could not help it.
Thus art with arms contending was victor of Long was the combat doubtful that love with
the day, love did fight,
Which by a gift of learning did bear the maid To leave the master loveless, or kill the gallant away; knight:
Then lullaby, the learned man hath got the lady To put in practice either, alas! it was a spite gay; Unto the silly damsel.
For now my song is ended.
How sighs resound On a day, alack the day!
Through heartless ground, Love, whose month was ever May,
Like a thousand vanquish'd men in Spied a blossom passing fair,
bloody fight! Playing in the wanton air:
Clear well spring not, Through the velvet leaves the wind,
Sweet birds sing not, All unseen, 'gan passage find;
Green plants bring not That the lover, sick to death,
Forth their dye; Wish'd himself the heaven's breath.
Herds stand weeping, 'Air,' quoth he, 'thy cheeks may blow;
Flocks all sleeping, Air, would I might triumph so!
Nymphs back peeping But, alas! my hand hath sworn
Fearfully: Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn:
All our pleasure known to us poor swains, Vow, alackl for youth unmeet:
All our merry meetings on the plains, Youth, so apt to pluck a sweet.
AV our evening sport from us is fled, Thou for whom Jove would swear
All our love is lost, for Love is dead. Juno but an Ethiop were;
Farewell, sweet lass, And deny himself for Jove,
Thy like ne'er was Turning mortal for thy love.'
For a sweet content, the cause of all my
Poor Corydon My flocks feed not,
Must live alone; My ewes breed not,
Other help for him I see that there is My rams speed not,
All is amiss: Love's denying,
IV.: Faith's defying,
Whenas thine eye hath chose the dame, Heart's renying,
And stall’d the deer that thou should'st strike, Causer of this.
8 Let reason rule things worthy blame, All my merry jigs are quite forgot, As well as fancy, partial wight: All my lady's love is lost, God wot:
Take counsel of some wiser head, Where her faith was firmly fix'd in love, Neither too young nor yet unwed. There a nay is plac'd without remove. 12 And when thou com'st thy tale to tell, One silly cross
Smooth not thy tongue with filed talk, Wrought all my loss;
Lest she some subtle practice smell; O! frowning Fortune, cursed, fickle A cripple soon can find a halt: dame;
But plainly say thou lov'st her well, For now I see
And set thy person forth to sell. Inconstancy
What though her frowning brows be bent, More in women than in men romain.
Her cloudy looks will clear ere night;
And then too late she will repent în black mourn I,
That thus dissembled her delight; All fears scorn I,
And twice desire, ere it be day,
That which with scorn she put away.
What though she strive to try her strength, All help needing,
And ban and brawl, and say thee nay, O! cruel speeding,
Her feeble force will yield at length, Fraughted with gall.
When craft hath taught her thus to say, My shepherd's pipe can sound no deal,
'Had women been so strong as men, My wether's bell rings doleful knell;
In faith, you had not had it then.' My curtal dog, that wont to bave play'd, And to her will frame all thy ways; Plays not at all, but seems afraid; Spare not to spend, and chiefly there My sighs so deep
Where thy desert may merit praise, Procure to weep,
32 By ringing in thy lady's ear: In howling wise, to see my doleful The strongest castle, tower, and town, plight.
The golden bullet beats it down.
Serve always with assured trust, And in thy suit be humble true; Unless thy lady prove unjust, Seek never thou to choose anew,
When time shall serve, be thou not slack
To proffer, though she put thee back.
Have you not heard it said full oft,
A woman's nay doth stand for nought? <Chink, women love to match with men And not to live so like a saint: Here is no heaven; they holy then - Begin when age doth them attaint.
Were kisses all the joys in bed,
One woman would another wed.
Beasts did leap, and birds did sing,
28 Whilst as fickle Fortune smil'd, Thou and I were both beguii'd.
Every one that flatters thee Is no friend in misery.
32 Words are easy, like the wind; Faithful friends are hard to find: Every man will be thy friend Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend; 36 But if store of crowns be scant, No man will supply thy want. If that one be prodigal, Bountiful they will him call,
40 And with such-like flattering, 'Pity but he were a king.' If he be addict to vice, Quickly him they will entice;
44 If to women he be bent, They have him at commandement: But if Fortune once do frown, Then farewell his great renown; They that fawn'd on him before Use bis company no more. He that is thy friend indeed, He will help thee in thy need:
52 If thou sorrow, he will weep; If thou wake, he cannot sleep: Thus of every grief in heart He with thee does bear a part. These are certain signs to know Faithful friend from flattering foe.
THE PHENIX AND THE TURTLE
Property was thus appall’d,
LET the bird of loudest lay,
INDEX OF CHARACTERS
AARON, Tit. Andr.
ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS, BAWD, A, Pericles.
BEATRICE, Much Ado.
ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE, BEAUFORT, HENRY, BISHOP
OF WINCHESTER, 1 & 2
BEAUFORT, JOHN, EARL OF
SOMERSET, 1 Hen. VI.
ANTONIO, Twelfth Night. BEAUFORT, THOMAS, DUKE
ANTONIO, Two G. of Ver. OF EXETER, 1 Hen. VI.
Ant. & Cleop.
i Hen. VI.
APOTHECARY, Rom. & Jul. BELCH, SIR TOBY, Twelfth
LAS, 1 Hen. IV.
BENEDICK, Much Ado.
ARCHIDAMUS, Winter's T. BENVOLIO, Rom. & Jul.
BERKELEY, Rich. III.
ARRAGON, PRINCE OF, M. of BEROWNE, Love's L. L.
BERTRAM, COUNT OF Rou.
SILLON, All's Well.
BIGOT, LORD, K. John.
AUMERLE, DUKE OF, Rich. II. BLANCH OF SPAIN, K. John.
AUTOLYCUS, Winter's T. BLOUNT, SIR JAMES, Kich. III.
i Hen. VI.
BOLINGBROKE, 2 Hen. VI.
TITUS, Tit. BALTHASAR, Rom. & Jul. BOLINGBROKE (afterwards
BALTHAZAR, Com. of Err. HENRY IV), Rich. II.
BALTHAZAR, M. of Ven. BONA, 3 Hen. VI.
BOTTOM, Mids. N. Dr.
BARDOLPH, 1 & 2 Hen. IV, BOURBON, DUKE OF, Hen. V.
Hen. V, Merry Wives. BOURCHIER, CARDINAL, ARCH.
BARDOLPH, LORD, 2 Hen. IV. BISHOP OF CANTERBURY,
BOYET, Love's L. L.