This, this is all my choice, my cheer,-
A mind content, a conscience clear.
TWO HEARTS IN ONE.
The poets feign that when the world began
Both sexes in one body did remain,
Till Love, offended with this double man,
Caused Vulcan to divide him into twain :
In this division he the heart did sever;
But cunningly he did indent the heart,
That if there were a reuniting ever
Each heart might know which was his counterpart.
See then, dear Love! the indenture of my heart,
And read the covenants writ with holy fire;
See if your heart be not the counterpart
Of my true heart's indented chaste desire!
And if it be, so may it ever be,—
Two hearts in one, 'twixt you, my Love! and me.
Were I as base as is the lowly plain,
And you, my Love, as high as heaven above,
Yet should the thoughts of me, your humble swain,
Ascend to heaven in honour of my Love.
Were I as high as heaven above the plain,
And you, my Love, as humble and as low
As are the deepest bottoms of the main,
Where'er you were, with you my love should go.
Were you the earth, dear Love! and I the skies,
My love should shine on you like to the sun,
And look upon you with ten thousand eyes,
Till heaven wax'd blind and till the world were done.
Where'er I am, below, or else above you,
Where'er you are, my heart shall truly love you.
Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king: Then blooms each thing; then maids dance in a ring; Cold doth not sting; the pretty birds do sing
Cuckoo ! jugge, jugge! pu-we! to-witta-woo!
The palm and may make country houses gay;
Lambs frisk and play; the shepherds pipe all day;
And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay—
Cuckoo ! jugge, jugge! pu-we! to-witta-woo!
The fields breathe sweet; the daisies kiss our feet;
Young lovers meet; old wives a-sunning sit;
In every street these tunes our ears do greet—
Cuckoo ! jugge, jugge! pu-we! to-witta-woo!
Spring! the sweet Spring!
Fair Summer droops, droop men and beasts therefore!
So fair a Summer never look for more!
All good things vanish less than in a day :
Peace, plenty, pleasure, suddenly decay.
Go not yet hence, bright soul of the sad year!
The earth is hell when thou leavest to appear.
What! shall those flowers that deck'd thy garland erst
Upon thy grave be wastefully dispersed?
O trees! consume your sap in sorrow's source;
Streams! turn to tears your tributary course.
Go not yet hence, bright soul of the sad year!
The earth is hell when thou leavest to appear.
ROWLAND'S ROUNDELAY.
ROWLAND-Of her pure eyes, that now is seen,
CHORUS-Come, let us sing, ye faithful swains!
ROWLAND-O She alone the Shepherds' Queen,
CHORUS Her flock that leads :
The Goddess of these meads,
These mountains, and these plains.
ROWLAND—Those eyes of hers that are more clear CHORUS-Than can poor shepherds' song express, ROWLAND-Than be his beams that rules the year : CHORUS-Fie on that praise
In striving things to raise
That doth but make them less!
ROWLAND-That do the flowery Spring prolong, CHORUS-So all things in her sight do joy, ROWLAND-And keep the plenteous Summer young, CHORUS-And do assuage
The wrathful Winter's rage
That would our flocks annoy.
ROWLAND-Jove saw her breast that naked lay,
CHORUS-A sight most fit for Jove to see,
ROWLAND-And swore it was the Milky Way:
CHORUS-Of all most pure
The path, we us assure,
To his bright court to be.
ROWLAND-He saw her tresses hanging down,
CHORUS-That moved with the gentle air,
ROWLAND-And said that Ariadne's Crown
CHORUS-With those compared
The Gods should not regard,
Nor Berenice's Hair.
ROWLAND-When She hath watch'd my flocks by night,
CHORUS-O happy flocks that She did keep!
ROWLAND-They never needed Cynthia's light,
CHORUS-That soon gave place,
Amazed with her grace
That did attend thy sheep.
ROWLAND-Above, where heaven's high glories are,
CHORUS-When She is placed in the skies,
ROWLAND-She shall be call'd the Shepherds' Star :
CHORUS-And evermore
We shepherds will adore
Her setting and her rise.
SONG OF MOTTO AND PERKIN.
MOTTO- Tell me, thou skilful shepherd swain !
Who's yonder in the valley set?
PERKIN-O, it is She whose sweets do stain
The lily, rose, the violet.
MOTTO- Why doth the Sun, against his kind,
Stay his bright chariot in the skies?
PERKIN-He pauseth, almost stricken blind
With gazing on her heavenly eyes.
MOTTO- Why do thy flocks forbear their food,
Which sometime was their chief delight?
PERKIN-Because they need no other good
That live in presence of her sight.
MOTTO- How come these flowers to flourish still,
Not withering with sharp Winter's death?
PERKIN-She hath robb'd Nature of her skill,
And comforts all things with her breath.
MOTTO- Why slide these brooks so slow away,
As swift as the wild roe that were?
PERKIN-O muse not, shepherd! that they stay,
When they her heavenly voice do hear.
MOTTO From whence come all these goodly swains
And lovely girls attired in green ?
PERKIN-From gathering garlands on the plains,
To crown thy Syl: our shepherds' Queen.
The sun that lights this world below,
Flocks, brooks, and flowers, can witness bear,
These shepherds and these nymphs do know,
Thy Sylvia is as chaste as fair.
What is Love but the desire
Of that thing the fancy pleaseth?
A holy and resistless fire
Weak and strong alike that seizeth :
Which not Heaven hath power to let,
Nor wise Nature can not smother;
Whereby Phoebus doth beget
On the Universal Mother:
That the everlasting chain
Which together all things tied,
And unmoved doth them retain,
And by which they shall abide :
That consent we clearly find
Which doth things together draw,
And so, strong in every kind,
Subjects them to Nature's law:
Whose high virtue Number teaches,
In which every thing doth move,
From the lowest depth that reaches
To the height of heaven above:
Harmony that, wisely found
When the cunning hand doth strike,
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