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BROOKE. MARLOWE. — RALEIGH. 93
FULEE GREVILLE, LORD BROOEE.
Mustapha. Act v. Sc. 4.
O wearisome condition of humanity!
And out of minde as soon as out of sight.
1565-1593. Hero and Leander. Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?
The Passionate Shepherd to his Love.
Come live with me, and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, and hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountains, yield.
SIR WALTER RALEIGH.
The Nymph's Reply to the Passionate Shepherd.
If all the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee, and be thy love.
The Silent Lover.
Silence in love bewrays more love
Than words, though ne'er so witty;
A beggar that is dumb, you know,
May challenge double pity.
The Soul's Errand,
Go, Soul, the body's guest,
Upon a thankless errand!
Fear not to touch the best:
The truth shall be thy warrant,
Go, since I needs must die,
And give the world the lie.
Address to the Nightingale.^
As it fell upon a day,
In the merry month of May,
Sitting in a pleasant shade
Which a grove of myrtles made.
* Sylvester is now generally regarded as the author of" The Soul's Errand," long attributed to Raleigh.
t This song, often attributed to Shakespeare, is now confidently assigned to Barnficld, and it is found in his collection of Poems, published between 1594 and 1598.
Book i. Canto i. St. M. The noblest mind the best contentment has.
Book i. Canto iii. St. 4. Her angels face, As the great eye of heaven, shyned bright, And made a sunshine in the shady place.
Book i. Canto viii. St. 40.
Entire affection hateth nicer hands.
Book i. Canto ix. St. M.
That darkesome cave they enter, where they find
That cursed man, low sitting on the ground,
Musing full sadly in his sullein mind.
Book ii. Canto vi. St. 12.
No daintie flowre or herbe that growes on grownd
No arborett with painted blossoms drest
And smelling sweete, but there it might be fownd
To bud out faire, and throwe her sweete smels al arownd.
Book iv. Canto ii. St. 32. Dan Chaucer, well of English undefyled.
Lines on his promised Pension.
I was promised on a time
To have reason for my rhyme;
From that time unto this season,
I received nor rhyme nor reason.
Hymn in Honor of Beauty. Line 132.
For of the soul the body form doth take,
For soul is form, and doth the Body make.
Elegiac on a Friend's Passion for his Astrophell. The lineaments of gospel-books.
Mother Hubberd's Tale.
Full little knowest thou that hast not tride,
What hell it is in suing long to bide;
To loose good dayes, that might be better spent;
To wast long nights in pensive discontent;
To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow;
To feed on hope, to pine with feare and sorrow;
To fret thy soule with crosses and with cares;
To eate thy heart through comfortlesse dispaires;
To fawne, to crowche, to waite, to ride, to ronne,
To spend, to give, to want, to be undonne.
Unhappie wight, borne to desastrous end,
That doth his life in so long tendance spend!
SIR HENRY WOTTON.
The Character of a Happy Life.
How happy is he born and taught,
That serveth not another's will;
Whose armor is his honest thought,
And simple truth his utmost skill!
Lord of himself, though not of lands;
And having nothing, yet hath all.
To his Mistress, the Queen of Bohemia.
You meaner beauties of the night,
That poorly satisfy our eyes
More by your number than your light!
DR JOHN DONNE.
FUNERAL ELEGIES ON THE PROGRESS OF THE SOUL.
The Second Anniversary. Line 245.
Her by her sight; her pure and eloquent blood
Spoke in her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought,
That one might almost say her body thought.
Elegy 8. The Comparison.
She and comparisons are odious.