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Clear wells spring not,
Forth ; they die :
For sweet content, the cause of all my moan:
Other help for him I see that there is none.
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 : She, poor bird, as all forlorn, Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn, And there sung the dolefull'st ditty, That 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 shewn, 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 beasts, they will not cheer thee; King Pandion, he is dead; All thy friends are lapp'd 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 smil'd, Thou and I were both beguild. 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. If that one be prodigal, Bountiful they will him call : And with such like flattering, “ Pity but he were a king." If he be addict to vice, Quickly him they will entice ; If to women he be bent, They have him at commandement; But if fortune once do frown, Then farewell his great renown: They that fawn'd on him before, Use his company no more. He that is thy friend indecd, He will help thee in thy need, If thou sorrow, he will weep; If thou wake, he cannot sleep : Thus of every grief in heart He with thee doth bear a part. These are certain signs to know Faithful friend from flattering foe.
When as thine eye hath chose the dame,
Take counsel of some wiser head,
Neither too young, nor yet unwed.
But plainly say thou lov'st her well,
And set her person forth to sale.
And twice desire, ere it be day,
That which with scorn she put away.
“ Had women been so strong as men,
In faith you had not had it then.”
The golden bullet beats it down.
When time shall serve, be thou not slack
To proffer, though she put thee back.
Have you not heard it said full oft,
A woman's nay doth stand for nought ?
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 :
But first set my poor heart free,
So between them love did shine,
That the turtle saw his right
Flaming in the phønix' sight:
Either was the other's mine. On the sole Arabian tree,
Property was thus appalld, Herald sad and trumpet be,
That the self was not the same; To whose sound chaste wings obey.
Single nature's double name But thou shrieking harbinger,
Neither two nor one was call'd. Foul pre-currer of the fiend,
Reason, in itself confounded, Augur of the fever's end,
Saw division grow together; To this troop come thou not near.
To themselves yet either-neither,
Simple were so well compounded. From this session interdict
That it cried how true a twain Every fowl of tyrant wing,
Seemeth this concordant one! Save the eagle, feather'd king :
Love hath reason, reason none, keep the obsequy so strict.
If what parts can so remain. Let the priest in surplice white,
Where upon it made this threne That defunctive music can,
To the phenix and the dove, Be the death-divining swan,
Co-supremes and stars of love ;
As chorus to their tragic scene.
Beauty, truth, and rarity,
Grace in all simplicity, 'Mongst our mourners shalt thou go.
Here inclos'd in cinders lie. Here the anthem doth commence :
Death is now the phænix' nest; Love and constancy is dead ;
And the turtle's loyal breast Phænix and the turtle fied
To eternity doth rest, In a mutual fame from hence.
Leaving no posterity :So they lov'd as love in twain
'Twas not their infirmity, Had the essence but in one ;
It was married chastity. Two distincts, division none :
Truth may seem, but cannot be ; Number there in love was slain.
Beauty brag, but 'tis not she; Hearts remote, yet not asunder ;
Truth and beauty buried be, Distance, and no space was seen
To this urn let those repair, "Twixt the turtle and his queen :
That are either true or fair ; But in them it were a wonder.
For these dead birds sigh a prayer.
A LOVER'S COMPLAINT.
Some in her threaden fillet still did bide,
Though slackly braided in loose negligence. Ere long espy'd a fickle maid full pale,
A thousand favours from a maund she drew Tearing of papers, breaking rings a-twain,
Of amber, crystal, and of bedded jet, Storming her world with sorrow's wind and rain. Which one by one she in a river threw, Upon her head a platted hive of straw,
Upon whose weeping margent she was set,Which fortified her visage from the sun,
Like usury, applying wet to wet, Whereon the thought might think sometime it saw
Or monarchs' hands, that let not bounty fall, The carcase of a beauty spent and done.
Where want cries some, but where excess begs all. Time had not scythed all that youth begun,
Of folded schedules had she many a one, Nor youth all quit; but, spite of heaven's fell rage, which she perus’d, sigh’d, tore, and gave the Hood; Some beauty peep'd through lattice of sear'd age. Crack'd many a ring of posied gold and bone, Oft did she heave her napkin to her eyne,
Bidding them find their sepulchres in mud ; Which on it had conceited characters,
Found yet more letters sadly pennd in blood,
With sleided silk feat and affectedly
Enswathod, and seald to curious secrecy.
These often bath'd she in her fluxive eyes, As often shrieking undistinguish'd woe,
And often kiss'd, and often 'gan to tear; In clamours of all size, both high and low.
Cry'd, O false blood ! thou register of lies,
What unapproved witness dost thou bear! Sometimes her levell’d eyes their carriage ride, Ink would have seem'd more black and damned here! As they did battery to the spheres intend ;
This said, in top of rage the lines she rents, Sometime diverted their poor balls are ty'd Big discontent so breaking their contents. To the orbed earth ; sometimes they do extend
A reverend man that graz'd his cattle nigh, Their view right on; anon their gazes lend
(Sometime a blusterer, that the ruffle knew To every place at once, and no where fix'd,
Of court, of city, and had let go by