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The greatest fish, in deepest brook, - --
Is soon deceived by subtle hook. . . .

Yea, man himself, unto whose will * - -
All things are bounden to obey, -

For all his wit and worthy skill, * * *
Doth fade at length, and fall away,

There is nothing but time doth waste,
The heav'ns, the earth, consume at last...,'

But virtue sits triumphing still -

Upon the throne of glorious fame;

-

Though spiteful death man's body kill,
Yet hurts he not his virtuous name. ..

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E sun, the season, in each thing
Revives new pleasures; the sweet spring

Hath put to flight the winter keen,
To glad our lovely summer queen. --. - *

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The paths where Amargana treads
With flow'ry tapestries Flora spreads,
And nature clothes the ground in green,
To glad our lovely summer queen.

The groves put on their rich array,
With hawthorn-blooms embroider'd gay,
And sweet-perfumed with eglantine,
To glad our lovely summer queen.

The silent river stays his course,
Whilst, playing in the chrystal source,
The silver-scaled fish are seen
To glad our lovely summer queen.

The woods at her fair sight rejoice,
The little birds, with their loud voice,
In concert on the branches been,
To glad our lovely summer queen.

Great Pan, our god, for her dear sake,
This feast and meeting bids us make,
Of shepherd lads, and lasses sheen,
To glad our lovely summer queen,

And every swain his chance doth prove, To win fair Amargana's love; In sporting strifes, quite void of spleen, To glad our lovely summer queen.

All happiness set Heav'n her lend,
And all the Graces her attend;
Thus bid me pray the Muses nine,
Long live our lovely summer queen.

* * *: - o ** * * * o, o *** *** * * * ~ * : , * * *-* * * * * * * * *** * > . , ... - .

Y.

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* c. MARLo IV. • THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD.

CoMo. live with me, and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dale and field,
And all the craggy mountains yield.
There will we sit upon the rocks,
And see the shepherds feed their flocks;
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals. :
There will I make thee beds of roses,
With a thousand fragrant posies;
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle,
Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle;
A gown made of the finest wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Slippers lin’d choicely for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;
A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Then live with me, and be my love.
The shepherd swains shall dance and sing,
For thy delight, each May morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me, and be my love.

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SIR WALTER RA LEIGH.

THE NYMPH's REPLY TO THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD.

If that the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,

These pretty pleasures might me move

To live with thee, and be thy love.

But time drives flocks from field to fold,
When rivers rage, and rocks grow cold;
And Philomel becometh dumb,

And all complain of cares to come.

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter's reckoning yield;
A honey tongue—a heart of gall,
Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.

Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,
Thy cup, thy kirtle, and thy posies,
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten,
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.

Thy belt of straw, and ivy buds,
Thy coral clasps and amber studs;
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee and be thy love.

But could youth last and love still breed,
Had joys no date—nor age no need,
Then these delights my mind might move
To live with thee and be thy love.

THE SOUL's ERRAND.

O, soul, the body’s guest,
Upon a thankless errand,
Fear not to touch the best,
The truth shall be thy warrant;
Go, since I needs must die,
And give the world the lie.

Go, tell the court it glows,
And shines like rotten wood,
Go, tell the church it shows
What's good, and doth no good ;
If church and court reply,
Then give them both the lie.

Tell potentates, they live
Acting by others actions,
Not lov’d unless they give,
Not strong but by their factions.
If potentates reply,
Give potentates the lie.

Tell men of high condition,
That rule affairs of state,
Their purpose is ambition,
Their practice only hate.
And if they once reply,
Then give them all the lie.

Tell them that brave it most,
They beg for more by spending,
Who in their greatest cost,
Seek nothing but commending.
And if they make reply,
Spare not to give the lie.

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