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All our evening sport from us is fled,
All our love is lost, for Love is dead.
Farewell, sweet lass,
Thy like ne'er was
For a sweet content, the cause of all my moan:
Must live alone,
Other help for him I see that there is none.
Whenas thine eye bath chose the dame,
And stalled the deer that thou should'st strike,
Let reason rule things worthy blame,
As well as fancy, partial might; 4
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 filéd talk,
Lest she some subtle practice smell ;
(A cripple soon can find a halt:)
But plainly say thou lov’st her well,
And set her person forth to sell.5
1 Lass. This is the reading of Weelkes. The Passionate Pil. grim has love.
2 Moan. This is the reading in “England's Helicon." The Passionate Pilgrim has woe.
3 Strike. So the original. Mr. Dyce, who seldom indulges in conjectural emendation, alters the word to smite, “ for the sake of the rhyme.” This we think is scarcely allowable ; for there are many examples of loose rhymes in these little poems. In the seventh stanza of this poem we have nought to rhyme with oft.
4 Fancy is here used as love, and might as power. Steevens, mischievously, we should imagine, changed partial might to partial tike ; and Malone adopts this reading, which makes Cupid a bull-dog.
5 Sell. The reading of The Passionate Pilgrim is sale. A manuscript in the possession of Mr. Lysons gives us sell.
What though her frowning brows be bent,
Her cloudy looks will calmere night;
And then too late she will repent,
That thus 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 :
Had women been so strong as men,
In faith you had not had it then.”
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 assuréd trust,
And in thy suit be humble, true;
Unless thy lady prove unjust,
Press never thou to choose anew :
When time shall serve, be thou not slack
To proffer, though she put thee back.
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.
Calm is the reading of the Passionate Pilgrim; the manuscript just mentioned has clear.
Have you not heard it said full oft,
A woman's nay doth stand for nought?
Think women still to strive with men,
To sin, and never for to saint.
There is no heaven, by holy then,
When time with age shall them attaint."
Were kisses all the joys in bed,
One woman would another wed.
But soft; enough, — too much I fear,
Lest that my mistress hear my song;
She'll not stick to round me i' th' ear,
To teach my tongue to be so long :
Yet will she blush, here be it said,
To hear her secrets so bewrayed.
Live with me, and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dales and fields,
And all the craggy mountains yields.
There will we sit upon the rocks,
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, by whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
1 These four lines are thus given in Mr. Lysons's manuscript :
“ 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.”
The onc copy is somewhat more intelligible than the other.
There will I make thee a bed of roses,
With a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrt.e.
A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs ;
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Then live with me, and be love.
If that the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee and be thy love."
As it fell upon a day,
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:
Every thing did banish moan
Save the nightingale alone :
1 We insert this poem in the order in which it appears in The Passionate Pilgrim.' The variations of other copies will be found in our Illustrations.
? This poem is also incompletely printed in England's Helicon ;” where it bears the signature Ignoto. There are some variations in the twenty-eight lines there given, as in the case before us, of grove in The Passionate Pilgrim, which in "England's Helicon” is group.
She, poor bird, as all forlorn,
Leaned her breast up-till' a thorn,
And there sung thc dolefull'st ditty,
Chat to hear it was great pity :
Fie, fie, fie, now would she cry,
Teru, Teru, by and by :
That to hear her so complain,
Scarce I could from tears refrain ;
For her griefs so lively shown,
Made me think upon mine own.
Ah! thought I, thou mourn'st in vain ;
None take 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 lapped 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.
1 Up-till. This is given against in “ England's Helicon." 2 Bears. In “ England's Helicon” beasts.
3 The poem in “ England's Helicon” here ends; but the two unes with which it concludes are wanting in The Passionate Pil. grim.