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When new desires had conquer'd thee,
And ehang'd the object of thy will,
Not constancy, to love thee still.
Yet do thou glory in thy choice,
Thy choice of his good fortune boast ;
To see him gain what I have lost.
A-begging at a beggar's door.
but his poems belong to English literature.
JOHN DONNE, born 1573, died 1631.
Things invisible to see,
Till age snow white hairs on thee;
If thou find one, let me know;
Such a pilgrimage were sweet :
Though at next door we might meet;
DRINK TO ME ONLY WITH THINE EYES.
From "The Forest," a poem by Ben Jonson, born 1574, died 1637. Set as a glee;
I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much honouring thee,
It would not wither'd be;
And sent it back to me;
Not of itself, but thee.
STILL TO BE NEAT.
From “ The Forest," by BEN JONSON.
STILL to be neat, still to be drest
Give me a look, give me a face
ON CELIA SINGING.
THOMAS CAREW, born about 1580, died 1639.
You that think love can convey
His fatal dart;
their casements, and but hear
And on the wing
Then unveil your eyes, behold
The curious mould
When the cocks crow
Gaze on the day,
HE THAT LOVES A ROSY CHEEK.
THOMAS CAREW, 1635. Music by Miss M. B. HAWES.
He that loves a rosy cheek,
Or a coral lip admires,
Fuel to maintain its fires ;
But a smooth and stedfast mind,
Gentle thoughts and calm desires,
Kindle never-dying fires;
Lovely cheeks, or lips, or eyes. There is another stanza to this song in some editions of the English poets, but so inferior in every way to these, and so unnecessary to the climax of the sentiment, as to suggest à doubt whether it has not been added by an inferior hand.
MEDIOCRITY IN LOVE REJECTED.
GIVE me more love or more disdain ;
The torrid or the frozen zone
The temperate affords me none :
Give me a storm; if it be love
Like Danaë in a golden shower,
Disdain, that torrent will devour
* Angel-gold was of a finer kind than crown-gold.
Were her hands as rich a prize
If she be not chaste to me,
No; she must be perfect snow,
Then if others share with me,
Farewell her, whate'er she be ! The burden of this song probably suggested the far more beautiful song of
George Wither's, which immediately follows.
SHALL I, WASTING IN DESPAIR.
GEORGE WITHER, born 1588, died 1667. From “ The Mistress of Philarete,"
published in 1622. Music by Mr. HENRY PHILLIPS,