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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 wishéd 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 ;

1

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

But one must be refuséd, more mickle was the pain, That nothing could be used, to turn them both to

gain, For of the two the trusty knight was wounded with

disdain : Alas, she could not help it! Thus art, with arms contending, was victor of the

day, Which by a gift of learning did bear the maid away; Then lullaby, the learnéd man hath got the lady gay:

For now my song is ended.

XV.

On a day, (alack the day!)
Love, whose month was ever May,
Spied a blossom passing fair,
Playing in the wanton air:
Through the velvet leaves the wind,
All unseen, 'gan passage find;
That the lover, sick to death,
Wished himself the heaven's breath.
Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow;
Air, would I might triumph so!
But, alas, my hand hath sworn
Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn :
Vow, alack, for youth unmeet,
Youth, so apt to pluck a sweet.
'Thou for whom Jove would swear
Juno but an Ethiope were ;
And deny himself for Jove,
Turning mortal for thy love."

1 This beautiful little poem also occurs in Love's Labor's Lost. In that copy, in the second line, we find " is every May;" every

XVI.

My flocks feed not,
My ewes breed not,
My rams speed not,

All is amiss :
Love is dying,
Faith's defying,
Heart's denying,

Causer of this,
All my merry jigs are quite forgot,
All my lady's love is lost, God wot :
Where her faith was firmly fixed in love,
There a nay is placed without remove.
One silly cross
Wrought all my loss;

O frowning Fortune, curséd, fickle dame.
For now I see,
Inconstancy

More in women than in men remain.

which is repeated in the folio of 1623, is clearly a mistake. In the eleventh line we have,

“But, alack, my hand is sworn." In the play there is a couplet not found in The Passionate Pilgrim :

“ Do not call it sin in me,

That I am forsworn for thee."

These lines precede " Thou for whom.”

1 We have two other ancient copies of this poem - one in “ England's Helicon,” 1600; the other in a collection of Madrigals by Thomas Weelkes, 1597. In “ England's Helicon” these lines are thus given :

“ Love is denying, Faith is defying ;

Hearts renging, (renying,) causer of this."

In black mourn I,
All fears scorn I,
Love hath forlorn me,

Living in thrall :
Heart is bleeding,
All help needing,
(0, cruel speeding!)

Fraughted with gall.
My shepherd's pipe can sound no deal,
My wether's bell rings doleful knell;
My curtail dog, that wont to have played,
Plays not at all, but seems afraid ;
With sighs so deep,
Procures to weep,

In howling-wise, to see my doleful plight.
How sighs resound
Through heartless ground,

Like a thousand vanquished men in bloody fight'

Clear wells spring not,
Sweet birds sing not,
Green plants bring not

Forth ; they die ;3
Herds stand weeping,
Flocks all sleeping,
Nymphs back peeping,

Fearfully.
All our pleasure known to us poor swains,
All our merry meetings on the plains,

1 No deal, in no degree : some deal and no deal were common expressions.

2 Procures. The curtail dog is the nominative case to this verb.

3 The reading in Weelkes's Madrigals is an improvement of this passage :

“ Loud bells ring not

Cheerfully."

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