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Though thou the waters warp,
From ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
Come, thou monarch of the vine,
Plumpy Bacchus with pink eyne!2
In thy vats our cares be drowned, Heigh ho! sing, heigh ho! etc.
With thy grapes our hairs be crowned!
Cup us, till the world go round,
Cup us, till the world go round!
From CYMBELINE In the spring time, the only pretty ring Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, time,
And Phæbus 'gins arise,
On chaliced flowers that lies;
5 Between the acres of the rye,
To ope their golden eyes;
This carol they began that hour,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, How that life was but a flower
In spring time, etc.
And therefore take the present time, 15
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
From TWELFTH NIGHT
That can sing both high and low:
5 Every wise man's son doth know.
Fear no more the heat o' the sun,
Nor the furious winter's rages;
Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages:
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke;
To thee the reed is as the oak:
Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;4
Thou hast finished joy and moan:
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Nothing ill come near thee!
What is love? 'Tis not hereafter;
What's to come is still unsure:
Youth's a stuff will not endure.
From MEASURE FOR MEASURE Take, O, take those lips away,
That so sweetly were forsworn;
Lights that do mislead the morn:
From THE TEMPEST
And then take hands;
a cup-shaped. * thunderbolt. shushed.
When to her lute Corinna sings,
But Oye nights, ordained for barren
rest, How are my days deprived of life in you When heavy sleep my soul hath dispossest, By feigned death life sweetly to re
new! Part of my life in that, you life deny: So every day we live, a day we die.
NOW WINTER NIGHTS ENLARGE
CHANCE AND CHANGE
Now winter nights enlarge
What if a day, or a month, or a year, The number of their hours;
Crown thy delights, with a thousand And clouds their storms discharge
sweet contentings? Upon the airy towers.
Cannot a chance of a night or an hour Let now the chimneys blaze,
5 Cross thy desires with as many sad torAnd cups o'erflow with wine,
mentings? Let well-tuned words amaze
Fortune, honor, beauty, youth, With harmony divine.
Are but blossoms dying; Now yellow waxen lights
Wanton pleasure, doting love, Shall wait on honey love;
Are but shadows flying; While youthful revels, masques, and All our joys are but toys, courtly sights,
Idle thoughts deceiving; Sleep's leaden spells remove.
None have power of an hour
In their life's bereaving.
Earth's but a point to the world, and a
Is but a point to the world's compared All do not all things well:
14 Some measures comely tread,
Shall then a point of a point be so vain Some knotted riddles tell,
As to triumph in a silly point's adventure? Some poems smoothly read.
All is hazard that we have, The summer hath his joys,
There is nothing biding; And winter his delights;
Days of pleasure are like streams Though love and all his pleasures are but Through fair meadows gliding. toys,
Weal and woe, Time doth go,
Time is never turning:
Both in mirth and mourning.
There is a garden in her face
THOMAS DEKKER (16727-p. 1632)
O SWEET CONTENT
which none may
Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbuy
Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplexed? Those cherries fairly do enclose
O punishment ! Of orient pearl a double row,
Dost thou laugh to see how fools are vexed Which when her lovely laughter shows, To add to golden numbers golden numThey look like rosebuds filled with snow; bers?
6 Yet them nor peer nor prince can buy O sweet content!O sweet, O sweet content! Till“ Cherry-ripe" themselves do cry. Work
apace, apace, apace, apace;
Honest labor bears a lovely face, Her eyes like angels watch them still; Then hey nonny nonny, hey nonny nonny!
Her brows like bended bows do stand, Threatening with piercing frowns to kill 15 Canst drink the waters of the crispèd! All that attempt, with eye or hand,
spring? Those sacred cherries to come nigh O sweet content! Till “Cherry-ripe" themselves do cry.
Which, in his height of pride,
To the King sending;
Well it thine age became, O noble Erpingham,
2 the French general.
3 the command to send a ransom.
6 main host,
resolution. 7 so that.
Which didst the signal aim
To our hid forces; When, from a meadow by, Like a storm suddenly, The English archery
Stuck the French horses,
Which fame did not delay
To England to carry. O when shall English men With such acts fill a pen? Or England breed again
Such a King Harry?
With Spanish yew so strong,
Piercing the weather;
80 When down their bows they threw, And forth their bilbows drew, And on the French they flew,
Not one was tardy:
Our men were hardy.
90 Down the French host did ding,
As to o’erwhelm it;
95 Bruised his helmet.
SONG TO CELIA
Gloucester, that duke so good,
With his brave brother, Clarence, in steel so bright; Though but a maiden knight, Yet in that furious fight
Scarce such another.
Upon Saint Crispin's day
Fought was this noble fray; I strike.