XXXV THE A SAILOR'S SONG HE master, the swabber, the boatswain and I, Loved Mall, Meg and Marian and Margery, But none of us cared for Kate; For she had a tongue with a tang, Would cry to a sailor, Go hang ! She loved not the savour of tar nor of pitch, Yet a tailor might scratch her where'er she did itch: Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang ! XXXVI THE POWER OF SONG ORPHEUS with his lute made trees And the mountain tops that freeze Bow themselves when he did sing: To his music plants and flowers Ever sprung; as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring. Every thing that heard him play, Hung their heads, and then lay by. In sweet music in such art, Fall asleep, or hearing, die. XXXVII SPRING WHEN daisies pied and violets blue And lady-smocks all silver-white And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, Cuckoo, cuckoo :-O word of fear, When shepherds pipe on oaten straws And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws, And maidens bleach their summer smocks, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo ; Cuckoo, cuckoo :-O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear! XXXVIII WINTER WHEN icicles hang by the wall And Dick the shepherd blows his nail And Tom bears logs into the hall And milk comes frozen home in pail, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-who-a merry note ;— While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow And Marian's nose looks red and raw, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-who-a merry note ; While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. XXXIX VENERI VICTRICI LOVE, Love, nothing but Love, still more! For, O, love's bow Shoots buck and doe: The shaft confounds, Not that it wounds, But tickles still the sore. These lovers cry Oh! oh! they die! Yet that which seems the wound to kill, Doth turn oh! oh! to ha! ha! he! So dying love lives still : Oh! oh! a while, but ha! ha! ha! Oh! oh! groans out for ha! ha! ha! -Heigh-ho! |