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THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM.
Scarce had the sun dried up the dewy morn,
Cannot live together;
Age is full of care :
Age like winter weather ;
Youth like summer brave,
Age like winter bare.
Youth is wild, and age is tame.
O, my love, my love is young ;
many tales to please me hath she coin'd,
[bow'd. Those thoughts, to me like oaks, to thee like osiers
Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine eyes, Thus art with arms contending was victor of the day,
Then lullaby, the learned man hath got the lady gay;
Love, whose month was ever May,
Spy'd 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,
Wish'd 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.
Do not call it sin in me,
That I am forsworn for thee;
Thou for whom Jove e'en would swear
Juno but an Ethiope were ;
And deny himself for Jove,
Turning mortal for thy love.
My flocks feed not,
My ewes breed not,
My rams speed not,
Al is amiss:
Causer of this.
All my lady's love is lost, God wot:
Where her faith was firmly fix'd in love,
There a nay is plac'd without remove.
One silly cross
Wrought all my loss;
O, frowning fortune, cursed, fickle dame!
For now I
More in women than in men remain.
In black mourn I,
All fears scorn I,
Love hath forlorn me,
Living in thrall:
Heart is bleeding,
All help needing,
(O cruel speeding!)
Fraughled with gall!
My sighs so deep,
Procure to weep,
In howling-wise, to see my doleful plight.
How sighs resound
Through harkless ground,
Like a thousand vanquish'd men in bloody fight !
Clear wells spring not,
Sweet birds sing not,
Herds stand weeping,
Flocks all sleeping,
[did fight, Nymphs back creeping
All our merry meetings on the plains,
All our love is lost, for love is dead.
Farewell, sweet lass,
[disdain : Poor Coridon
Other help for him I see that there is none.
Herald sad and trumpet bes
To whose sound chaste wings oboy.
Foul pre-currer of the fiend,
Augur of the fever's end, Take counsel of some wiser head,
To this troop come thou not near! Neither too young, nor yet unwed.
From this session interdict And when thou com'st thy tale to tell,
Every fowl of tyrant wing, Smooth not thy tongue with filed talk,
Save the eagle, feather'd king: Lest she some subtle practice swell;
Keep the obsequy so strict. (A cripple soon can find a halt:)
Let the priest in surplice white, But plainly say thou lov'st her well,
That defunctive music can, And set thy person forth to sell.
Be the death-divining swan, And to her will frame all thy ways;
Lest the requiem lack his right. Spare not to spend, -and chiefly there
And thou, treble-dated crow, Where thy desert may merit praise,
That thy sable gender mak'st By ringing always in her ear:
With the breath thou giv'st and tak'st, The strongest castle, tower, and town,
'Mongst our mourners shalt thou go. The golden bullet beats it down.
Here the anthem doth commence Serve always with assured trust,
Love and constancy is dead; And in thy suit be humble, true ;
Phenix and the turtle fled
In a mutual flame from hence.
So they lov'd, as love in twain
Had the essence but in one; To proffer, though she put thee back.
Two distincts, division none :
Number there in love was slain.
Hearts remote, yet not asunder;
Distance, and no space was seen And twice desire, ere it be day,
Twixt the turtle and his queen: That with such scorn she put away.
But in them it were a wonder. What though she strive to try her strength,
So between them love did shine, And ban and brawl, and say thee nay,
That the turtle saw his right Her feeble force will yield at length,
Flaming in the Phenix' sight : When craft hath taught her thus to say,
Either was the other's mine. Had women been so strong as men,
Property was thus appall’d, In faith you had not had it then.
That the self was not the same ; The wiles and guiles that women work,
Single nature's double name Dissembled with an outward show,
Neuher two nor one was callid. The tricks and toys that in them lurk,
Reason, in itself confounded, The cock that treads them shall not know,
Saw division grow together; Have you not heard it said full oft,
To themselves yet either neither, A woman's nay doth stand for nought?
Simple were so well compounded ; Think, women love to match with men.
That it cried, how true a twain And not to live so like a saint:
Seemeth this concordant one ! Here is no heaven: they holy then
Love hath reason, reason none, Begin, when age doth them auaint.
If what parts can so remain. Were kisses all the joys in bed,
Whereupon it made this threne One woman would another wed.
To the Phenix and the dovc, But soft ; enough,—too much I fear;
Co-supremes and stars of love;
As chorus to their tragic scene.
Beauty, truth, and rarity,
Grace in all simplicity,
Here inclos’d in cinders lie.
Death is now the Phenix' nest;
And the turtle's loyal breast Lights that do mislead the morn:
To eternity doch rest, But my kisses bring again,
Leaving no posterity :Seals of love, but scal'd in vain.
"Twas not their infirmity, Hide, oh, hide those hills of snow
It was married chastity.
Truth may seem, but cannot be ;
Beauty brag, but 'tis not she; But first set my poor heart free,
Truth and beauty buried be.
To this urn let those repair
That are either true or fair ;
For these dead birds sigh a prayer. On the sole Arabian tree,
"alce akd to bind dire.