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Yet should the thoughts of me your humble swain
Were I as high as heaven above the plain,
Were you the earth, dear Love, and I the skies,
Whereso'er I am, below, or else above you, Whereso'er you are, my heart shall truly love you. 7. Sylvester
MISTRESS mine, where are you roaming? O stay and hear! your true-love 's coming That can sing both high and low; Trip no further, pretty sweeting, Journeys end in lovers' meeting
Every wise man's son doth know.
What is love? 't is not hereafter;
HEN icicles hang by the wall
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall,
And milk comes frozen home in pail ; When blood is nipt, and ways be foul, Then nightly sings the staring owl Tuwhoo!
Tuwhit! tuwhoo! A merry note!
When all around the wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding the snow,
And Marian's nose looks red and raw; When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl Then nightly sings the staring owl Tuwhoo!
Tuwhit! tuwhoo! A merry note !
'HAT time of year thou may'st in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou seest the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
In me thou seest the glowing of such fire,
This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more
To love that well which thou must leave erelong.
HEN to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste;
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored, and sorrows end.
IKE as the waves make towards the pebbled shore
Each changing place with that which goes before,
Nativity once in the main of light
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown'd,
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth,
And yet, to times in hope, my verse shall stand
`AREWELL! thou art too dear for my possessing,
The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing,
For how do I hold thee but by thy granting?
Nature herself her shape admires ;
Then muse not, Nymphs, though I bemoan
Since for a fair there's fairer none,
Nor for her virtues so divine:
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline;
Heigh ho, my heart! would God that she were mine!
EAUTY sat bathing by a spring
My wanton thoughts enticed mine eye
So vain desire was chidden :-
Into a slumber then I fell,
But ev'n as babes in dreams do smile,