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THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM.

L

SWEET Cytherea, sitting by a brook

With young Adonis, lovely, fresh, and green,

Did court the lad with many a lovely look,

Such looks as none could look but beauty's queen.

She told him stories to delight his ear;

She shew'd him favours to allure his eye;

To win his heart, she touch'd him here and there:
Touches so soft still conquer chastity.

But whether unripe years did want conceit,
Or he refused to take her figured proffer,
The tender nibbler would not touch the bait,

But smile and jest at every gentle offer:

Then fell she on her back, fair queen, and toward: He rose and ran away; ah, fool too froward!

II.

Scarce had the sun dried up the dewy morn,
And scarce the herd gone to the hedge for shade,
When Cytherea, all in love forlorn,
A longing tarriance for Adonis made,
Under an osier growing by a brook,
A brook where Adon used to cool his spleen:
Hot was the day; she hotter that did look
For his approach, that often there had been.
Anon he comes, and throws his mantle by,
And stood stark naked on the brook's green brim:
The sun look'd on the world with glorious eye,
Yet not so wistly as this queen on him.

He, spying her, bounced in, whereas he stood: "O Jove," quoth she, "why was not I a flood!"

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111.

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Fair was the morn, when the fair queen of love,
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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 shewed hers: he saw more wounds than one,
And blushing flied, and left her all alone.

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Fair is my love, but not so fair as fickle;
Mild as a dove, but neither true nor trusty;
Brighter than glass, and yet, as glass is, brittle;
Softer than wax, and yet, as iron, rusty:

A lily pale, with damask dye to grace her,
None fairer, nor none falser to deface her.

Her lips to mine how often hath she join'd,
Between each kiss her oaths of true love swearing!
How many tales to please me hath she coin'd,
Dreading my love, the loss thereof still fearing!
Yet in the midst of all her pure protestings,
Her faith, her oaths, her tears, and all were jestings.

She burn'd with love, as straw with fire flameth;
She burn'd out love, as soon as straw out-burneth,
She framed the love, and yet she foil'd the framing;
She bade love last, and yet she fell a-turning.
Was this a lover, or a lecher whether?
Bad in the best, though excellent in neither.

VI.

If music and sweet poetry agree,

As they must needs, the sister and the brother,
Then must the love be great 'twixt thee and me,
Because thou lov'st the one, and I the other.
Dowland to thee is dear, whose heavenly touch
Upon the lute doth ravish human sense;
Spenser to me, whose deep Onceit is such,
As, passing all conceit, needs no defence.
Thou lov'st to hear the sweet melodious sound
That Phoobus' lute, the queen of music, makes;
And I in deep delight am chiefly drown'd,
Whenas himself to singing he betakes,

One god is god of both, as poets feign;
One knight loves both, and both in thee remain.

VII.

Sweet rose, fair flower, untimely pluck'd, soon faded,
Pluck'd in the bud, and faded in the spring!
Bright orient pearl, alack, too timely shaded!
Fair creature, kill'd too soon by death's sharp sting!
Like a green plum that hangs upon a tree,
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 cravèd nothing of thee still:

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

VIIL.

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.

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 tame.

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.

IX.

Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good;
A shining gloss, that fadeth 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, faded, broken, dead within an hour.

And as goods lost are seld or never found,
As faded gloss no rubbing will refresh,
As flowers dead lie wither'd on the ground,
As broken glass no cement can redress,

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

Χ.

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

"Farewell," quoth she, "and come again to-morrow:" Farewell I could not, for I supp'd with sorrow.

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

ΧΙ.

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 tunèd like the lark;

For she doth welcome daylight with her ditty,
And drives away dark dismal-dreaming night:
The night so pack'd, I post unto my pretty;
Heart hath his hope, and eyes their wished sight;
Sorrow changed to solace, solace mix'd with sorrow;
For why she sigh'd, 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 succour flowers!

Pack night, peep day; good day, of night now borrow:
Short, night, to-night, and length thyself to-morrow.

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Whenas thine eye hath chose the dame,
And stall'd the deer that thou shouldst strike,
Let reason rule things worthy blame,
As well as fancy, partial like:

Take counsel of some wiser head,
Neither too young, nor yet unwed.
And when thou com'st thy tale to tell,
Smooth not thy tongue with filed talk,
Lest she some subtle practice smell;
(A cripple soon can find a halt:)
But plainly say thou lov'st her well,
And set thy person forth to sell.

And to her will frame all thy ways;
Spare not to spend, -and chiefly there
Where thy desert may merit praise,
By ringing in thy lady's ear:

The strongest castle, tower, and town,
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.

What though her frowning brows be bent,
Her cloudy looks will clear ere night;
And then too late she will repent,
That she dissembled her delight;
And twice desire, ere it be day,
That which with scorn she put away
What though she strive to try her strength,
And ban and brawl, and say thee nay,
Her feeble force will yield at length,
When craft hath taught her thus to say.ー
"Had women been so strong as men,
In faith, you had not had it then."
The wiles and guiles that women work,
Dissembled with an outward show,
The tricks and toys that in them lurk,
The cock that treads them shall not know.
Have you not heard it said full oft,
A woman's nay doth stand for naught?

Think 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.

But, soft! enough, too much I fear;
For if my mistress hear my song,
She will not stick to ring mine ear,
To teach my tongue to be so long:
Yet will she blush, here be it said,
To hear her secrets so bewray'd.

As it fell upon a day,

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In the merry month of May,
Sitting in a pleasant shade
Which a grove of myrtles made.
Beasts did leap, and birds did sing,
Trees did grow, and plants did spring;
Everything did banish moan,
Save the nightingale alone:
She, poor bird, as all forlorn,
Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn,
And there sung the dolefull'st ditty,
That to hear it was great pity:
"Fie, fie, fle," now would she cry;
"Tereu, Tereu!" by and by;

2 Y

That to hear her so complain,
Scarce I could from tears refrain;
For her griefs, so lively shewn,
Made me think upon mine own.
Ah, thought I, thou mouru'st in vain!
None takes pity on thy pain:

Senseless trees, they cannot hear thee;
Ruthless bears, they will not cheer thee:
King Pandion, he is dead;

All thy friends are lapp'd in lead;
All thy fellow-birds do sing,
Careless of thy sorrowing.
Even so, poor bird, like thee,
None alive will pity me.
Whilst as fickle Fortune smiled,
Thou and I were both beguiled.
Every one that flatters thee
Is no friend in misery.
Words are easy, like the wind;
Faithful friends are hard to find:
Every man will be thy friend,
Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend;

But if store of crowns be scant, No man will supply thy want. If that one be prodigal, Bountiful they will him call, And with such-like flattering, "Pity but he were a king." If he be addict to vice, Quickly him they will entice; If to women he be bent, They have him at commandèment: But if fortune once do frown, Then farewell his great renown; They that fawn'd on him before, Use his company no more. He that is thy friend indeed, He will help thee in thy need: 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 TURTLE.

(From the additional poems to CHESTER'S Love's Martyr, or Rosalin's Complaint, 1801.)

LET the bird of loudest lay,
On the sole Arabian tree,

Herald sad and trumpet be,

To whose sound chaste wings obey.

But thou, shrieking harbinger,
Foul pre-currer of the fiend,
Augur of the fever's end,

To this troop come thou not near.
From this session interdict
Every fowl of tyrant wing,
Save the eagle, feather'd king;
Keep the obsequy so strict.
Let the priest in surplice white,
That defunctive music can,
Be the death-divining swan,
Lest the requiem lack his right.
And thou, treble-dated crow,
That thy sable gender mak'st
With the breath thou giv'st and tak'st,
'Mongst our mourners shalt thou go.
Here the anthem doth commence:-
Love and constancy is dead":
Phœnix and the turtle fled
In a mutual flame from hence.
So they loved, as love in twain
Had the essence but in one;
Two distincts, division none:
Number there in love was slain.

Hearts remote, yet not asunder;
Distance, and no space was seen
'Twixt the turtle and his queen:
But in them it were a wonder.

So between them love did shine,
That the turtle saw his right
Flaming in the phenix's sight;
Either was the other's mine.

Property was thus appall'd,
That the self was not the same;
Single nature's double name
Neither two nor one was call'd.

Reason, in itself confounded,
Saw divisiou grow together,
To themselves yet either-neither,
Simple were so well compounded;
That it cried, How true a twaid
Seemeth this concordant one!
Love hath reason, reason none,
If what parts can so remain.
Whereupon it made this threne
To the phœnix and the dove,
Co-supremes and stars of love,
As chorus to their tragic scene.

THRENOS.

Beauty, truth, and rarity,
Grace in all simplicity,
Here enclosed in cinders lie.

Death is now the phenix's nest;
And the turtle's loyal breast
To eternity doth rest,
Leaving no posterity :-
'Twas not their infirmity,
It was married chastity.
Truth may seem, but cannot be;
Beauty brag, but 'tis not she;
Truth and beauty buried be.
To this urn let those repair
That are either true or fair;
For these dead birds sigh prayer,

THE EN

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Affection, capriciousness, imagination.

Affect the letter, affect alliteration.

Affeer'd, confirmed.

A fiance, confidence.

A ffied, betrothed.

Afined, joined by affinity, related in office.

Affront, encounter, attack.
Agenor's daughter, Europa.

Aglet-baby, a diminutive figure carved on the end of the tag which carried the lace. Aglet is aiguillette, a point.

Agnize, confess, acknowledge.
A-good, in good earnest,

Aim, surmise, guess, direction.
Airy, verbal.

Alder-liefest, dearest of all things. Ale, a rural festival, or church holiday.

All-hallown summer, winter-sum

mer.

Allicholly, melancholy.

Allowed, privileged, approved.

Amaimon, a demon.

Amaze, confound, confuse.

Amiss, calamity.

Amort, dispirited.

Anchor, anchorite.

thy.

Arabian bird, phœnix.

Arbitrement, decision.

Arch, boundary, chief.

wor-Bedlam, a madman.

Beguile, cheat.

Beg us, to heg the wardsup of us.

Behave, govern.

Beholden, indebted.

Belongings, endowments

Argosies, ships laden with rich car Bemoiled, bemired.

goes.

Argentine, silvery.

Argier, Algiers.

Bend, incline.

Benison, blessing.

Bent, arch, exertion.

Argument, subject, conversation, Ben venuto, welcome.

proof.

Aroynt, avaunt.

Arras, tapestry.

Art, theory.

Articulated, shewn in articles.

Artificial, ingenious.

Aspect, countenance.
Aspersion, sprinkling.
Assinego, ass.

Assurance, a deed.
Assured, affianced.

Astonished, stunned.

Astringer, falconer.

Ate, the goddess of discord.
Atone, reconcile.
Attach, arrest.

Attask, reprehend.
Attorney, deputation.
Aunts, loose women.
Aves, salutations.

Awful, lawful, reverend

Awkward, adverse.

Aye, ever.

B

Baccare, stand back.

Baffled, overreached.
Bale, ruin.

Balk, to pile.

Balm, oil of consecration.

Bermoothes, Bermudas.
Beshrew, ill betide.

Besmirch, discolour, stain.

Bested, plight.

Bestowed, deposited.
Bestraight, distracted.
Beteem, bestow, suffer.

Bevel, crooked.
Bewray, discover.

Bezonian, shabby fellow.

Bid, invited.

Biggin, & cap.

Bilberry, whortleberry.

Bilbo, from Bilboa, renowned for its

swords.

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Blent, mixed together.

Blind-worms, slow-worms.

Blistered, puffed.

Block, shape, or fashion of a hat.

Blood, impulse, disposition, passion

Banbury cheese, nothing but paring Bloodless, inactive.

Band, bond.

Bandy, drive smartly.

Bane, poison.

Bans, curses.

Barbason, the name of a fiend.

Barful, full of obstacles.

Barm, yeast.
Barne, a child
Base, a challenge, a rustic game
called prison-base, dishonoured.

Bases, armour for the legs.
Basilico, a character in an old drama.
Basilisks, heavy artillery.

Basta, 'tis enough.

Bat, club.

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Blossoms, the flower of the nobihey

Blue-bottle rogue, beadle.

Blue caps, Scotsmen.

Blow, puff.

Board, accost.

Bobb, to fish, to trick.

Bodged, bungled.

Bolins, bowlines.

Bolt, a short arrow.
Bolter, to besmear.

Bolting-hutch, receptacle in which

flour is separated from bran. Bombast, the padding of clothes. Bond, duty.

Boot, profit, something more, refusal

Bootless, useless.

Boots, a rustic sportive punishment.

Bores, wounds.

Bosky, woody.

Bots, worms.

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Bed of Ware, a bed which held forty Bravery, finery.
persons.

Brawn, arm.

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