CI. SONG. HONEST lover whosoever, If in all thy love there ever Was one wavering thought, if thy flame Know this, Thou lovest amiss, And to love true, Thou must begin again, and love anew. If when she appears i' the room Thou dost not quake, and art struck dumb, And in striving this to cover Dost not speak thy words twice over, Know this, Thou lovest amiss, And to love true, Thou must begin again, and love anew. If fondly thou dost not mistake, Persuad'st thyself that jests are broken When she hath little or nothing spoken, Know this, Thou lovest amiss, And to love true, Thou must begin again, and love anew. If when thou appear'st to be within To what was asked thee, properly, Thou lovest amiss, And to love true, Thou must begin again, and love anew. If when thy stomach calls to eat And with much gazing on her face Dost not rise hungry from the place, Thou lovest amiss, And to love true, Thou must begin again, and love anew. If by this thou dost discover That thou art no perfect lover, And desiring to love true, Thou dost begin to love anew, Know this, Thou lovest amiss, And to love true, Thou must begin again, and love anew. CII. RICHARD CRAshaw, 1612-1649. H ON THE ASSUMPTION. ARK! she is called, the parting hour is come; Take thy farewell, poor world! Heaven must go home. A piece of heavenly earth; purer and brighter Than the chaste stars, whose choice lamps come to light her, Whil'st through the crystal orbs, clearer than they, She climbs; and makes a far more milky way. Come away, my dove, Cast off delay; The court of heaven is come To wait upon thee home; Come, come away! The flowers appear, Or quickly would, wert thou once here. 'Tis to keep time with thy delay. The rain is gone, except so much as we Detain in needful tears to weep the want of thee. The winter's past, Or if he make less haste, His answer is, Why, she does so; If summer come not, how can winter go? The shrill winds chide, the waters weep thy stay, Come away, my dove, Cast off delay; The court of heaven is come To wait upon thee home; Come, come away. She's called again. And will she go? When heaven bids come, who can say no? Heaven will not, and she cannot stay. Go then; go, glorious on the golden wings |