THE PURSUIT OF LOVE. ART thou gone in haste? I'll not forsake thee; Over the dales, over the downs, All along the plain, To the low fountains, Up and down again From the high mountains; And the floods to the woods, Ce la! ho! ho! hu! THE SONG OF JANUARY. Now does jolly Janus greet your merriment; For since the world's creation, I never changed my fashion; 'Tis good enough to fence the cold: My hatchet serves to cut my firing yearly, My bowl preserves the juice of grape and barley: Fire, wine, and strong beer, make me live so long here To give the merry new year a welcome in. All the potent powers of plenty wait upon To Bacchus I commend ye, and Ceres eke attend ye, That Boreas' blasts may never blow to harm you; THE DEPARTURE OF JANUARY. SINCE you desire my absence; Yonder lies the snow, But my heart cannot melt it: And my poor heart hath felt it. I'LL NEVER LOVE MORE. STAY, O turn, O pity me That sighs, that sues for love of thee! O lack! I never loved before; If you deny, I'll never love more. No hope, no help! then wretched I BEWARE OF LOVE. THERE is not any wise man, Then never turn your eyes on They that love do live in hell, And therefore, men, beware. OUT UPON YE ALL! FOOLISH, idle toys, That nature gave unto us, But to curb our joys, And only to undo us; For since Lucretia's fall, There are none chaste at all; FAIR INVOCATION TO APOLLO. AIR Apollo, whose bright beams The birds that sing, the plants that spring, O, lend thy aid to a swain sore oppressed, Soon may find The delight that sense admits! Do remain In his mind to offend his wits! SAMUEL ROWLEY. [ONE of the players in the establishment of the Prince of Wales, and included in the list of Henslowe's authors. His principal pieces are the play from which the following song is taken, and a comedy called When you see me you know me. He also assisted other writers in some of the Moral Plays.] THE NOBLE SPANISH SOLDIER. SORROW. 1634. OH, sorrow, sorrow, say where dost thou dwell? In the lowest room of hell. Art thou born of human race? Oh, why into the world is sorrow sent? What dost thou feed on? What takest thou pleasure in? To weep, To sigh, to sob, to pine, to groan, Oh when, oh when shall sorrow quiet have? [THOMAS GOFFE was born in Essex, about 1592, and educated at Westminster. In 1609 he entered Christ Church, Oxford, and having had the degree of bachelor of divinity conferred upon him, was preferred to the living of East Clandon, in Surrey, in 1623. He is said to have been a professed woman-hater, yet, notwithstanding, married the wife of his predecessor, who revenged the wrongs of the whole sex upon him by the violence of her temper, and finally, it is supposed, shortened his life. He died in 1627. He was the author of four dramas, and is believed in the latter part of his life to have embraced the church of Rome.] THE DRAMATISTS. 13 |