Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them
With deaf'ning clamours on the slippery clouds,
That, with the hurly,* death itself awakes?
Canst thou, O partial sleep! give thy repose
To the wet sea-boy, in an hour so rude;
And, in the calmest and most stillest night,
With all appliances and means to boot,
Deny it to a king?

158

19-iii. 1.

O sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her!
And be her sense but as a monument,

Thus in a chapel lying!

31-ii. 2.

159

See the life as lively mock'd, as ever
Still sleep mock'd death.

13-v. 3.

I wish mine eyes

Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find,

They are inclined to do so.

Do not omit the heavy offer of it:

It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,

It is a comforter.

163

1-ii. 1.

The lion, dying, thrusteth forth his paw,

And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage

To be o'erpower'd.

164

17 v. 1.

165

O vanity of sickness! fierce extremes,
In their continuance, will not feel themselves.
Death, having prey'd upon the outward parts,
Leaves them insensible; and his siege is now
Against the mind, the which he pricks and wounds
With many legions of strange fantasies;

Which, in their throng and press to that last hold,
Confound themselves.

16-v. 7.

166

Thou art come to set mine eye:

The tackle of my heart is crack'd and burn'd;
And all the shrouds wherewith my life should sail,
Are turned to one thread, one little hair:
My heart hath one poor string to stay it by,
Which holds but till thy news be uttered:
And then all this thou seest, is but a clod,
And module of confounded royalty.

167

16-v. 7.

Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high;
Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward here to die.

17-v. 5.

That once was mistress of the field, and flourish'd,
I'll hang my head and perish.

25-iii. 1.

170

171

Now, boast thee, death! in thy possession lies
A lass unparallel'd.-Downy windows, close;
And golden Phoebus never be beheld

Of eyes again so royal!

172

30-v. 2.

Death lies on her, like an untimely frost
Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.

35-iv. 5.

173

Have I not hideous death within my view,
Retaining but a quantity of life;

Which bleeds away, even as a form of wax
Resolveth from his figure 'gainst the fire ?*
What in the world should make me now deceive,

Since I must lose the use of all deceit ?

Why should I then be false; since it is true,
That I must die here, and live hence by truth!

174

Nothing in his life

Became him like the leaving it: he died
As one that had been studied in his death,
To throw away the dearest thing he owed,
As 'twere a careless trifle.

175

16-v. 4.

15-i. 4.

176

I have bewept a worthy husband's death,
And lived by looking on his images.

177

All things, that we ordained festival,
Turn from their office to black funeral;
Our instruments to melancholy bells;
Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast;
Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change;
Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse,
And all things change them to the contrary.

178

24-ii. 2.

35-iv. 5.

O'er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep
With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep.

179

7-iii. 2.

O, now doth death line his dead chaps with steel;
The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs;
And now he feasts, mouthing the flesh of men,
In undetermined differences of kings.

180

His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him;
For then, and not till then, he felt himself,
And found the blessedness of being little :
And, to add greater honours to his age

16-ii. 2.

Than man could give him, he died, fearing God.

181

Full of repentance,

Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows,

He gave his honours to the world again,

25-iv. 2.

His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.

182

25-iv. 2.

183
The night of sorrow now is turn'd to day:
Her two blue windows faintly she up-heaveth,
Like the fair sun, when in his fresh array
He cheers the morn, and all the world relieveth :
And as the bright sun glorifies the sky,
So is her face illumined with her eye.

Poems. 184

She shook
The holy water from her heavenly eyes,
And clamour moisten'd : then away she started
To deal with grief alone.

34-iv. 3. 185

In the glasses of thine eyes I see thy grieved heart.

17-i. 3.

186
Men judge by the complexion of the sky
The state and inclination of the day :
So may you by my dull and heavy eye,
My tongue hath but a heavier tale to say.

17-iii. 2.

187 Lo! here the hopeless merchant of this loss, With head declined, and voice damm'd up with woe, With sad set eyes and wretched arms across, From lips new-waxen pale begins to blow The grief away, that stops his answer so; But wretched as he is, he strives in vain ; What he breathes out, his breath drinks up again. As through an arch the violent roaring tide Out-runs the eye that doth behold his haste; Yet in the eddie boundeth in his pride Back to the strait, that forced him on so fast, In rage sent out, recall'd in rage being past : Even so his sighs, his sorrows, make a saw, To push grief on, and back the same grief draw.

Poems. 188

My particular grief Is of so flood-gate and o'erbearing nature,