Billeder på siden

Thus lullaby my youth, mine eyes,

My will, my ware, and all that was : I can no more delays devise ;

But welcome pain, let pleasure pass. With lullaby now take your leave, With lullaby your dreams deceive, And when you rise with waking eye, Remember then this lullaby.





N a hill there grows a flower,

Fair befall the dainty sweet ;
By that flower there is a bower,

Where the heavenly Muses meet.


In that bower there is a chair,

Fringed all about with gold ;
Where doth sit the fairest fair

That ever eye did yet behold.

It is Phillis fair and bright,

She that is the shepherd's joy ;
She that Venus did despite,

And did blind her little boy.

This is she, the wise, the rich,

That the world desires to see ;
This is ipsa qua the which,

There is none but only she.

Who would not this face admire ?

Who would not this saint adore ?
Who would not this sight desire,

Though he thought to see no more?

Oh fair eyes, yet let me see,

One good look, and I am gone;
Look on me, for I am he,

Thy poor silly Corydon.

Thou that art the shepherd's queen,

Look upon thy silly swain ;
By thy comfort have been seen

Dead men brought to life again.



[ocr errors]

WEET Phillis, if a silly swain,

May sue to thee for grace;
See not thy loving shepherd slain,

With looking on thy face.
But think what power thou hast got,

Upon my flock and me;
Thou seest they now regard me not,

But all do follow thee.

And if I have so far presum'd,

With prying in thine eyes;
Yet let not comfort be consum'd,

That in thy pity lies.
But as thou art that Phillis fair,

That Fortune favour gives;
So let not Love die in despair,

That in thy favour lives. The deer do browse upon the brier,

The birds do pick the cherries; And will not Beauty grant Desire

One handful of her berries ? If it be so that thou hast sworn

That none shall look on thee; Yet let me know thou dost not scorn

To cast a look on me. But if thy beauty make thee proud,

Think then what is ordain'd ; The heavens have never yet allow'd

That Love should be disdain'd. Then lest the fates that favour Love,

Should curse thee for unkind; Let me report for thy behoof,

The honour of thy mind ; Let Corydon with full consent,

Set down what he hath seen ; That Phillida with Love's content,

Is sworn the Shepherd's Queen.




N time of yore when shepherds dwelt

Upon the mountain rocks ;
And simple people never felt

The pain of lovers' mocks ;
But little birds would carry tales

'Twixt Susan and her sweeting ;
And all the dainty nightingales

Did sing at lovers' meeting ;
Then might you see what looks did pass

Where shepherds did assemble ;
And where the life of true love was,

When hearts could not dissemble.

Then yea and nay was thought an oath

That was not to be doubted;
And when it came to faith and troth

We were not to be flouted.
Then did they talk of curds and cream,

Of butter, cheese, and milk;
There was no speech of sunny beam

Nor of the golden silk.


« ForrigeFortsæt »