LIKE to the clear in highest sphere
Where all imperial glory shines,
Of selfsame colour is her hair
Whether unfolded or in twines:
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!

Her eyes are sapphires set in snow,
Resembling heaven by every wink;
The gods do fear whenas they glow,
And I do tremble when I think

Heigh ho, would she were mine?

Her cheeks are like the blushing cloud
That beautifies Aurora's face,
Or like the silver crimson shroud
That Phoebus' smiling looks doth grace.
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!

Her lips are like two budded roses
Whom ranks of lilies neighbour nigh,
Within whose bounds she balm encloses
Apt to entice a deity:

Heigh ho, would she were mine!

Her neck like to a stately tower
Where Love himself imprison'd lies,
To watch for glances every hour
From her divine and sacred eyes:
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!

Her paps are centres of delight,

Her breasts are orbs of heavenly frame, Where Nature moulds the dew of light To feed perfection with the same:

Heigh ho, would she were mine!

With orient pearl, with ruby red,
With marble white, with sapphire blue,
Her body every way is fed,

Yet soft to touch and sweet in view:
Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!

Nature herself her shape admires;

The gods are wounded in her sight;
And Love forsakes his heavenly fires
And at her eyes his brand doth light:
Heigh ho, would she were mine!

Then muse not, Nymphs, though I bemoan
The absence of fair Rosaline,

Since for a fair there's fairer none,

Nor for her virtues so divine:

Heigh ho, fair Rosaline!

Heigh ho, my heart! would God that she were mine!

101.

GEORGE PEELE

Fair and Fair

Enone. FAIR and fair, and twice so fair,

As fair as any may be;

The fairest shepherd on our green,
A love for any lady.

Paris. Fair and fair, and twice so fair,
As fair as any may be;

Thy love is fair for thee alone
And for no other lady.

Enone. My love is fair, my love is gay,
As fresh as bin the flowers in May
And of my love my roundelay,
My merry, merry, merry roundelay,

1558?-97

Concludes with Cupid's curse,

'They that do change old love for new Pray gods they change for worse!

Ambo Simul. They that do change old love for new, Pray gods they change for worse!

102.

Enone. Fair and fair, etc.

Paris. Fair and fair, etc.

Thy love is fair, etc.

Enone. My love can pipe, my love can sing,
My love can many a pretty thing,
And of his lovely praises ring
My merry, merry, merry roundelays
Amen to Cupid's curse,-

They that do change,' etc.

Paris. They that do change, etc.

Ambo. Fair and fair, etc.

A Farewell to Arms

(TO QUEEN ELIZABETH)

HIS golden locks Time hath to silver turn'd;

O Time too swift, O swiftness never ceasing ! His youth 'gainst time and age hath ever spurn'd, But spurn'd in vain; youth waneth by increasing: Beauty, strength, youth, are flowers but fading seen; Duty, faith, love, are roots, and ever green. His helmet now shall make a hive for bees; And, lovers' sonnets turn'd to holy psalms, A man-at-arms must now serve on his knees, And feed on prayers, which are Age his alms: But though from court to cottage he depart, His Saint is sure of his unspotted heart.

And when he saddest sits in homely cell,

He'll teach his swains this carol for a song,'Blest be the hearts that wish my sovereign well, Curst be the souls that think her any wrong.' Goddess, allow this agèd man his right

To be your beadsman now that was your knight.

ROBERT GREENE

103.

Samela

1560-92

LIKE to Diana in her summer weed,

Girt with a crimson robe of brightest dye,
Goes fair Samela.

Whiter than be the flocks that straggling feed
When wash'd by Arethusa faint they lie,
Is fair Samela.

As fair Aurora in her morning grey,
Deck'd with the ruddy glister of her love
Is fair Samela ;

Like lovely Thetis on a calmèd day
Whenas her brightness Neptune's fancy move,
Shines fair Samela.

Her tresses gold, her eyes like glassy streams,
Her teeth are pearl, the breasts are ivory
Of fair Samela;

Her cheeks like rose and lily yield forth gleams;
Her brows bright arches framed of ebony.
Thus fair Samela

Passeth fair Venus in her bravest hue,

And Juno in the show of majesty
(For she's Samela !),

Pallas in wit, all three, if you well view,
For beauty, wit, and matchless dignity,
Yield to Samela.

104.

AH!

Fawnia

H! were she pitiful as she is fair, Or but as mild as she is seeming so, Then were my hopes greater than my despair, Then all the world were heaven, nothing woe. Ah! were her heart relenting as her hand, That seems to melt even with the mildest touch, Then knew I where to seat me in a land Under wide heavens, but yet there is not such. So as she shows she seems the budding rose, Yet sweeter far than is an earthly flower; Sovran of beauty, like the spray she grows; Compass'd she is with thorns and canker'd flower. Yet were she willing to be pluck'd and worn, She would be gather'd, though she grew on thorn.

Ah! when she sings, all music else be still,
For none must be compared to her note;
Ne'er breathed such glee from Philomela's bill,
Nor from the morning-singer's swelling throat.
Ah! when she riseth from her blissful bed
She comforts all the world as doth the sun,
And at her sight the night's foul vapour's fled;
When she is set the gladsome day is done.

O glorious sun, imagine me the west,

Shine in my arms, and set thou in my breast!