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How could it be so fair, and you away?
flowers so gay?
here, And call'd their fellows to the sight, Would, looking round for the same
sight in vain, Creep back into their silent barks again. Where'er you walk'd trees were as rev
erend made, As when of old gods dwelt in every shade.
Is't possible they should not know,
And still their former pride retain ? Dull creatures ! 'tis not without cause
that she, Who fled the god of wit, was made a tree.
In ancient times sure they much wiser
were, When they rejoic'd the Thracian verse
And bade them silent to him run. How would those learned trees have
followed you? You would have drawn them, and their
poet too. But who can blame them now? for,
since you're gone, They're here the only fair, and shine
alone. You did their natural rights invade : Where ever you did walk or sit, The thickest boughs could make no
shade, Although the Sun had granted it: The fairest flowers could please no
more, near you, Than painted flowers, set next to them,
could do. When e'er then you came hither, that
shall be The time, which this to others is, to me.
The little joys which here are now,
How we depriv'd of greater are. 'Tis you the best of seasons with you
bring; This is for beasts, and that for men the
1618–1658. (Richard LOVELACE was born at Woolwich in 1618; he died in Gunpowder Alley, near Shoe Lane, London, in April, 1658. His Lucasta was published in 1649, and his Posihume Poems in 1659. He was the author of The Scholar, a comedy, written in 1634, and of The Soldier, a tragedy, written in 1640, but these dramas are lost.]
TO ALTHEA, FROM PRISON.
And fetter'd to her eye,
The birds that wanton in the air To whisper at my grates;
Know no such liberty.
1608-9-1642. . [SUCKLING was born at Twickenham in 1608-9, and committed suicide in Paris in 1642. He published during his lifetime the drama of Aglaura, in 1638, and the Ballad of a Wedding, in 1640. His other works were first collected posthumously in 1648, under the title of Fragmenta Aurea.]
WHY SO PALE AND WAN?
I PRITHEE, SEND ME BACK MY Why so pale and wan, fond lover?
Since I cannot have thine;
For if from yours you will not part,
Why, then, shouldst thou have mine? Why so dull and mute, young sinner? Prithee, why so mute ?
Yet now I think on't, let it lie,
To find it were in vain;
For thou'st a thief in either eye
Would steal it back again.
Why should two hearts in one breast lie, If of herself she will not love,
And yet not lodge together?
O Love! where is thy sympathy,
If thus our breasts thou sever?
1639-1701. [Sir Charles Sedley was born at Aylesford in 1639, and died August 20, 1701. His most famous comedy, The Mulberry Garden, appeared in 1688; his poetical and dramatic works were collected in 1719.]
THE GROWTH OF LOVE.
[From The Mulberry Garden.) Ay, Chloris! that I now could sit My passion with your beauty grew, As unconcerned, as when
And Cupid at my heart, Your infant beauty could beget
Still, as his mother favored you,
Threw a new flaming dart.
To make a lover, he
Employed the utmost of his art Must take my rest away.
To make a beauty she. lour charms in harmless childhood lay, | Though now I slowly bend to love, Lise metals in the mine:
Uncertain of my fate, Age from no face took more away,
If your fair self my chains approve, Than youth concealed in thine.
I shall my freedom hate. But as your charms insensibly
Lovers, like dying men, may well
At first disordered be;
What fortune they must see.
1615(?)-1650. (RICHARD CRASHAW, born, 1615 (?); expelled from Cambridge, 1644; became a Roman Catholic. Published Steps to the Altar, 1646, and died canon of Loretto, 1650.]
What bright soft thing is this,
A moist spark it is.
EUTHANASIA; OR, THE HAPPY
O'tis not a tear,
From thine eye its sphere,
O'tis a tear,
How sad soe'er
Such a pearl as this is
The rosebud's sweet lip kisses;
Such the maiden gem,
Peeps from her parent stem,
Fair drop, why quak'st thou so?
In the dust? O no,
By all the eagle in thee, all the dove;
day; And by thy thirsts of love, more large
Thus carried up on high,
Sweetly shalt thou lie,
There thyself shalt be
Yet I doubt of thee,
shone, An eye of heaven; or still shine here, In th’ heaven of Mary's eye a tear.
By all thy brim-fill'd bowls of fierce de
sire; By thy last morning's draught of liquid
fire; By the full kingdom of that final kiss, That seal'd thy parting soul, and made
O! THOU UNDAUNTED. O! THOU undaunted daughter of desires, By all thy dower of lights and fires;
1594-1674. (ROBERT HERRICK was born in Cheapside, in August, 1594, and died at Dean-Prior, in Devon. shire, on the 15th of October, 1674: He published one volume, containing Hesperides, dated 1648. and Noble Numbers, dated 1647.]
A THANKSGIVING TO GOD.
Wherein to dwell;
Is weather proof;
Both soft and dry ; Where thou, my chamber for to ward,
Hast set a guard
Me, while I sleep.
Both void of state;
Is worn by th' poor,
Good words, or meat.
And kitchen's small; A little buttery, and therein
A little bin,
Which keeps my little loaf of bread
Make me a fire,
And glow like it.
The pulse is thine,
There placed by thee;
And my content
To be more sweet. 'Tis thou that crown'st my glittering
With guiltless mirth,
Spiced to the brink.