JOHN DONNE.
(1573-1631.)

XL. THE BAIT.

An imitation of Marlowe's poem (No. xxxv). It appeared in the first edition of Donne's poems, published in 1633, after his death, but like most of Donne's lyrical pieces, it was probably written in his youth, and may be conjecturally dated 1593-1600.

COME, live with me, and be my love,

And we will some new pleasures prove
Of golden sands, and crystal brooks,
With silken lines and silver hooks.

There will the river whispering run,
Warm'd by thine eyes more than the sun;
And there th' enamour'd fish will stay,
Begging themselves they may betray.

When thou wilt swim in that live bath,
Each fish, which every channel hath,
Will amorously to thee swim,
Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.

If thou to be so seen be'st loth
By sun or moon, thou darkenest both;
And if myself have leave to see,
I need not their light, having thee.

Let others freeze with angling reeds,
And cut their legs with shells and weeds,
Or treacherously poor fish beset,
With strangling snare, or windowy net.

Let coarse bold hands from slimy nest
The bedded fish in banks out-wrest,

Or curious traitors, sleave-silk flies,
Bewitch poor fishes' wandering eyes:

For thee, thou need'st no such deceit,
For thou thyself art thine own bait;
That fish, that is not catch'd thereby,
Alas! is wiser far than I.

SIR WALTER RALEIGH.

(1552-1618.)

XLI. A REPLY TO MARLOWE.

The first verse was printed, together with Marlowe's poem (No. xxxv), in The Passionate Pilgrim (1599); the whole appeared in England's Helicon (1600). Here it was originally signed S. W. R., but a slip of paper was pasted over these initials, bearing the word Ignoto. It is quoted and ascribed to Raleigh in Walton's Compleat Angler. Raleigh also wrote a long pastoral poem in honour of Elizabeth, under the title of Cynthia. This is alluded to in Spenser's Colin Clout's Come Home Again, where Raleigh is the 'Shepherd of the Ocean'. Only a fragment of Cynthia has survived; it may be seen with the rest of Raleigh's verse in Archdeacon Hannah's Courtly Poets.

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.

Time drives the flocks from field to fold,
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold,
And Philomel becometh dumb;
The rest complains of cares to come.

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter reckoning yields;

A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.

Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies,
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten,
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.

Thy belt of straw and ivy buds,
Thy coral clasps and amber studs,

All these in me no means can move
To come to thee and be thy love.

But could youth last, and love still breed;
Had joys no date, nor age no need;
Then these delights my mind might move
To live with thee and be thy love.

XLII. THE SHEPHERD'S DESCRIPTION OF LOVE

This is not certainly Raleigh's. It is anonymous in The Phoenix Nest (1593). In England's Helicon it originally had his initials, but these were cancelled as in the case of the last poem. It is anonymous also in Davison's Poetical Rhapsody (1602), but in Harl. MS. 280, f. 99, a manuscript catalogue by Francis Davison of the poems in the Rhapsody, it is ascribed to Raleigh.

Meliboeus.

SHEPHERD, what's love, I pray thee tell?

Faustus.

It is that fountain and that well
Where pleasure and repentance dwell;
It is perhaps that sauncing bell1

That tolls all into heaven or hell;

And this is love as I heard tell.

1 Sauncing-bell, the Sanctus or Sacring-bell, rung at mass when the Host is elevated.

Meliboeus.

Yet what is love, I prithee say?

Faustus.

It is a work on holiday;

It is December match'd with May,
When lusty bloods, in fresh array,
Hear ten months after of the play;
And this is love as I hear say.

Meliboeus.

Yet what is love, good shepherd, sain?

Faustus.

It is a sunshine mix'd with rain;

It is a tooth-ache, or like pain;

It is a game where none doth gain;

The lass saith no, and would full fain;
And this is love, as I hear sain.

Meliboeus.

Yet, shepherd, what is love, I pray?

Faustus.

It is a yea, it is a nay,

A pretty kind of sporting fray;

It is a thing will soon away;

Then, nymphs, take 'vantage while ye may; And this is love, as I hear say.

Meliboeus.

Yet what is love, good shepherd, show?

Faustus.

A thing that creeps; it cannot go;
A prize that passeth to and fro;

A thing for one, a thing for moe;
And he that proves shall find it so;
And, shepherd, this is love, I trow

ANTHONY MUNDAY.

(1554-1633.)

XLIII. TO COLIN CLOUT.

This is one of seven poems to which the name of 'Shepherd Tony' is attached in England's Helicon (1600). The authorship was long a matter of dispute, but as the present one has been found by Mr. Bullen in Munday's Primaleon (1619), and another in his Two Italian Gentlemen (1584), there no longer can be any doubt that they are his.

BEAUTY sat bathing in a spring,

Where fairest shades did hide her,
The winds blew calm, the birds did sing,
The cool streams ran beside her.
My wanton thoughts enticed mine eye
To see what was forbidden:

But better memory said, fie,

So vain desire was chidden.
Hey nonny, nonny, &c.

Into a slumber then I fell,
When fond imagination
Seemed to see, but could not tell
Her feature or her fashion.

But even as babes in dreams do smile
And sometimes fall a-weeping,

So I awaked, as wise this while,
As when I fell a-sleeping.

Hey nonny, nonny, &c.