IIis flocks are folded; he comes home at night As merry as a king in his delight,

And merrier, too;

For kings bethink them what the State require, Where shepherds careless carol by the fire;

Ah then, &c.

He kisseth first, then sits as blithe to eat
His cream and curd, as doth the king his meat,
And blither too;

For kings have often tremours when they sup,
Where shepherds dread no poison in their cup:
Ah then, &c.

Upon his couch of straw he sleeps as sound
As doth the king upon his bed of down,

More sounder, too;

For cares cause kings full oft their sleep to spill, Where weary shepherds lie and snort their fill: Ah then, &c.

Thus with his wife he spends the year as blithe As doth the king at every tide or syth,

And blither, too;

For kings have wars and broils to take in hand, Where shepherds laugh, and love upon the land: Ah then, &c.

Robert Greene.

IX.

PHILLIDA AND CORYDON.

IN the merry month of May,

In a morn by break of day,

With a troop of damsels playing
Forth I rode, forsooth, a-maying,
When anon by a woodside,
Where as May was in his pride,
I espied, all alone,

Phillida and Corydon.

Much ado there was, God wot!

He would love, and she would not:

She said, never man was true:
He says, none was false to you.
He said, he had loved her long:
She says, Love should have no wrong.

Corydon would kiss her then,
She says, maids must kiss no men,
Till they do for good and all.
Then she made the shepherd call
All the heavens to witness, truth
Never loved a truer youth.

Thus, with many a pretty oath,
Yea, and nay, and faith and troth!-
Such as silly shepherds use
When they will not love abuse;
Love, which had been long deluded,
Was with kisses sweet concluded:
And Phillida, with garlands gay,
Was made the lady of the May.

Nicholas Breton.

X.

SEND back my long-stray'd eyes to me,
Which, O! too long have dwelt on thee:
But if from you they've learnt such ill,
To sweetly smile,
And then beguile,

Keep the deceivers, keep them still.

Send home my harmless heart again,

Which no unworthy thought could stain;

But if it has been taught by thine

To forfeit both

Its word and oath,

Keep it, for then 'tis none of mine.

Yet send me back my heart and eyes,
For I'll know all thy falsities;

That I one day may laugh, when thou
Shalt grieve and mourn—

Of one the scorn,

Who proves as false as thou art now.

John Donne.

XI.

WOMAN'S INCONSTANCY.

I LOVED thee once, I'll love no more,

Thine be the grief as is the blame;
Thou art not what thou wast before,
What reason I should be the same?
He that can love unloved again,
Hath better store of love than brain:
God send me love my debts to pay,
While unthrifts fool their love away!

Nothing could have my love o'erthrown,
If thou hadst still continued mine;
Yea, if thou hadst remain'd thy own,
I might perchance have yet been thine.
But thou thy freedom didst recall,
That if thou might elsewhere inthrall:
And then how could I but disdain
A captive's captive to remain ?

When new desires had conquer'd thee,
And changed the object of thy will,

It had been lethargy in me,

Not constancy to love thee still.

Yea, it had been a sin to go
And prostitute affection so,

Since we are taught no prayers to say
To such as must to others pray.

Yet do thou glory in thy choice,-
Thy choice of his good fortune boast;

I'll neither grieve nor yet rejoice
To see him gain what I have lost;

The height of my disdain shall be
To laugh at him, to blush for thee;
To love thee still, but go no more
A-begging to a beggar's door.

Sir Robert Ayton.

XII.

THE SILENT LOVER.

WRONG not, sweet empress of my heart,
The merit of true passion,

With thinking that he feels no smart,
That sues for no compassion;

Since, if my plaints serve not to approve
The conquest of thy beauty,

It comes not from defect of love,
But from excess of duty.

For knowing that I sue to serve
A saint of such perfection,
As all desire, but none deserve,
A place in her affection,

I rather choose to want relief

Than venture the revealing;
Where glory recommends the grief,
Despair distrusts the healing.

Thus those desires that aim too high
For any mortal lover,

When reason cannot make them die,
Discretion doth them cover.

Yet, when discretion doth bereave
The plaints that they should utter,
Then thy discretion may perceive
That silence is a suitor.

Silence in love bewrays more woe
Than words tho' ne'er so witty;
A beggar that is dumb, you know,
May challenge double pity.

Then wrong not, dearest to my heart,
My true, tho' secret passion;

He smarteth most that hides his smart,
And sues for no compassion.

Sir Walter Raleigh

XIII.

SINCE first I saw your face I vowed
To honour and renown you;
If now I be disdain'd, I wish

My heart I had never known you.
What? I that loved, and you that liked-
Shall we begin to wrangle ?—
No, no, no, my heart is fast,
And cannot disentangle!

If I admire or praise too much,
That fault you may forgive me;
Or if my hands had stray'd to touch,
Then justly might you leave me.
I ask'd you leave, you bade me love,
Is't now a time to chide me?
No, no, no, I'll love you still,
What fortune e'er betide me.

The sun, whose beams most glorious are,
Rejecteth no beholder;

And thy sweet beauty, past compare,
Made my poor eyes the bolder.

Where beauty moves, and wit delights,
And signs of kindness bind me,
There, oh! there, where'er I go,

I leave my heart behind me.

Unknown.

XIV.

PHILLIS is my only joy,

Faithless as the winds or seas,
Sometimes cunning, sometimes coy,
Yet she never fails to please;
If with a frown

I am cast down,

Phillis smiling,

And beguiling,

Makes me happier than before.