VII.

Fair was the morn, when the fair queen of love,1

Paler for sorrow than her milk-white dove,
For Adon's sake, a youngster proud and wild;
Her stand she takes upon a steep-up hill;
Anon Adonis comes with horn and hounds;
She, silly queen, with more than love's good will,
Forbade the boy he should not pass those grounds;
Once, quoth she, did I see a fair, sweet youth
Here in these brakes deep-wounded with a boar,
Deep in the thigh, a spectacle of ruth!
See in my thigh, quoth she, here was the sore:
She showed hers; he saw more wounds than one,
And blushing fled, and left her all alone.

VIII.

Sweet rose, fair flower, untimely plucked, soon vaded,1
Plucked in the bud, and vaded in the spring!
Bright orient pearl, alack! too timely shaded!
Fair creature, killed too soon by death's sharp sting!
Like a green plum that hangs upon a tree,

I

And falls, through wind, before the fall should be.

I weep for thee, and yet no cause I have;
For why? thou left'st me nothing in thy will.

And

yet thou left'st me more than I did crave;

For why? I cravéd nothing of thee still :

O

yes, dear friend, I pardon crave of thee; Thy discontent thou didst bequeath to me.

2

The second line is lost.

Vaded, faded. This form of the word often occurs in Shaks peare, and has been too frequently changed in reprints.

VOL. VIII,

30

IX.

Venus, with Adonis1 sitting by her,

Under a myrtle shade began to woo him :

She told the youngling how god Mars did try her,
And as he fell to her, she fell to him.

Even thus, quoth she, the warlike god embraced

me;

And then she clipped Adonis in her arms:

Even thus, quoth she, the warlike god unlaced me;
As if the boy should use like loving charms.
Even thus, quoth she, he seized on my lips,
And with her lips on his did act the seizure;
And as she fetched breath, away he skips,
And would not take her meaning nor her pleasure
Ah! that I had my lady at this bay,
To kiss and clip me till I run away!

I.

Crabbed age and youth
Cannot live together;
Youth is full of pleasance,
Age is full of care:
Youth like summer morn,
Age like winter weather;
Youth like summer brave,
Age like winter bare.

1 This Sonnet is found in "Fidessa," by B. Griffin, 1596. There are great variations in that copy, for which see Illustrations. Amongst others we have the epithet young before Adonis. If we make a pause after Venus, the epithet is not necessary to the metre. The fourth line is given more metrically in " Fidessa :"

"And as he fell to her, so she fell to him."

Youth is full of sport,

Age's breath is short,

Youth is nimble, age is lame;
Youth is hot and bold,

Age is weak and cold;

Youth is wild, and age is tamc.
Age, I do abhor thee,

Youth, I do adore thee;

O, my love, my love is young!
Age, I do defy thee;

O sweet shepherd, hie thee,

For methinks thou stay'st too long.

XI.

Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good,
A shining gloss, that vadeth suddenly;
A flower that dies, when first it 'gins to bud;
A brittle glass, that 's broken presently:

A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower,
Lost, vaded, broken, dead within an hour.

And as goods lost are seld or never found,
As vaded gloss no rubbing will refresh,
As flowers dead lie withered on the ground,
As broken glass no cement can redress,1

So beauty, blemished once, for ever 's lost,
In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost.

In the twenty-ninth volume of the "Gentleman's Magazine " a copy of this poem is given, as from an ancient manuscript, in which there are the following variations :

"And as goods lost are seld or never found,
As faded gloss no rubbing will excite,
As flowers dead lie withered on the ground,

As broken glass no cement can unite."

XII.

Good night, good rest. Ah! neither be my share :
She bade good night, that kept my rest away;
And daffed me to a cabin hanged with care,
To descant on the doubts of my decay.

Farewell, quoth she, and come again to-morrow
Fare well I could not, for I supped with sorrow.

Yet at my parting sweetly did she smile,
In scorn or friendship, nill I construe whether:
'T may be, she joyed to jest at my exile,
'T may be, again to make me wander thither:
Wander, a word for shadows like myself,
As take the pain, but cannot pluck the pelf.

XIII.

Lord, how mine eyes throw gazes to the east!
My heart doth charge the watch; the morning rise
Doth cite each moving sense from idle rest.
Not daring trust the office of mine eyes,

While Philomela sits and sings, I sit and mark;
And wish her lays were tunéd like the lark;

For she doth welcome daylight with her ditty,
And drives away dark, dismal-dreaming night:
The night so packed, I post unto my pretty;
Heart hath his hope, and eyes their wished sight;
Sorrow changed to solace, solace mixed with sor

row;

For why? she sighed, and bade me come to-morrow.

Were I with her, the night would post too soon:
But now are minutes added to the hours;

To spite me now, each minute seems a moon;
Yet not for me, shine sun to succor flowers!

1

Pack night, peep day; good day, of night now bor

row;

Short, night, to-night, and length thyself to-mor

row.

SONNETS

SUNDRY NOTES OF MUSIC.

XIV.

It was a lordling's daughter, the fairest one of three, That liked of her master as well as well might be, Till looking on an Englishman, the fairest that eye could see,

Her fancy fell a turning.

Long was the combat doubtful, that love with love did

fight,

To leave master loveless, or kill the gallant knight:
To put in practice either, alas it was a spite
Unto the silly damsel.

1 A moon.

The original has an hour-evidently a misprint. The emendation of moon, in the sense of month, is by Steevens, and it ought to atone for some faults of the commentator.