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On the bat's back I do fly
After summer merrily.
Merrily, merrily, shall I live now,
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands:
Courtsied when you have, and kiss'd
The wild waves whist,
Foot it featly here and there
And, sweet Sprites, the burthen bear.
The watch-dogs bark:
Hark, hark! I hear
The strain of strutting chanticleer
SUMMONS TO LOVE
And paint the sable skies
With azure, white, and red;
Rouse Memnon's mother from her Tithon's bed
Give life to this dark world which lieth dead;
In larger locks than thou wast wont before,
With diadem of pearl thy temples fair;
Chase hence the ugly night,
Which serves but to make dear thy glorious light.
-This is that happy morn,
That day, long-wished day
Of all my life so dark,
(If cruel stars have not my ruin sworn And fates my hopes betray),
Which, purely white, deserves
An everlasting diamond should it mark.
This is the morn should bring unto this grove.
My Love, to hear and recompense my love.
But show thy blushing beams,
And thou two sweeter eyes
Shalt see than those which by Penéus' streams
Did once thy heart surprize.
Now, Flora, deck thyself in fairest guise;
If that ye winds would hear
A voice surpassing far Amphion's lyre,
Let Zephyr only breathe,
-The winds all silent are,
Beyond the hills, to shun his flaming wheels;
The clouds with orient gold spangle their blue; Here is the pleasant place
And nothing wanting is, save She, alas!
William Drummond of Hawthornden
TIME AND LOVE
When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced
Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate-
6 Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid?
O! none, unless this miracle have might:
That in black ink my love may still shine bright.
THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE
Come live with me and be my Love,
There will I make thee beds of roses
A gown made of the finest wool,
A belt of straw and ivy buds,
Thy silver dishes for thy meat,
Prepared each day for thee and me.
The shepherd swains shall dance and sing
Fain would I change that note
To which fond Love hath charm'd me
Fancying that that harm'd me;
I have no other choice
Either for pen or voice
O Love! they wrong thee much
I do adore thee;
I know thee what thou art,
Crabbed Age and Youth