174.

The sea-nymphs chant their accents shrill,
And the sirens, taught to kill
With their sweet voice,
Make ev'ry echoing rock reply
Unto their gentle murmuring noise
The praise of Neptune's empery.

Winter Nights

NOW winter nights enlarge

The number of their hours,

✓

And clouds their storms discharge
Upon the airy towers.

Let now the chimneys blaze
And cups o'erflow with wine;

Let well-tuned words amaze
With harmony divine.

Now yellow waxen lights

Shall wait on honey love,

While youthful revels, masques, and courtly sights.

Sleep's leaden spells remove.

This time doth well dispense
With lovers' long discourse;
Much speech hath some defence,
Though beauty no remorse.
All do not all things well;
Some measures comely tread,

Some knotted riddles tell,
Some poems smoothly read.
The summer hath his joys,

And winter his delights;

Though love and all his pleasures are but toys,
They shorten tedious nights.

176.

O come quickly!

NEVER weather-beaten sail more willing bent to shore,
Never tired pilgrim's limbs affected slumber more,
Than my wearied sprite now longs to fly out of my
troubled breast:

0 come quickly, sweetest Lord, and take my soul to rest!

Ever blooming are the joys of heaven's high Paradise,
Cold age deafs not there our ears nor vapour dims our eyes:
Glory there the sun outshines; whose beams the Blessèd
only see:

O come quickly, glorious Lord, and raise my sprite to Thee!

177.

JOHN REYNOLDS

A Nosegay

SAY, crimson Rose and dainty Daffodil,

With Violet blue;

Since you have seen the beauty of my saint,
And eke her view;

16th Cent.

Did not her sight (fair sight!) you lonely fill,
With sweet delight
Of goddess' grace and angels' sacred teint
In fine, most bright?

Say, golden Primrose, sanguine Cowslip fair,
With Pink most fine;

Since you beheld the visage of my dear,
And eyes divine;

177. teint] tint, hue.

Did not her globy front, and glistering hair,
With cheeks most sweet,

So gloriously like damask flowers appear,
The gods to greet?

Say, snow-white Lily, speckled Gillyflower,
With Daisy gay;

Since you have viewed the Queen of my desire,
In her array;

Did not her ivory paps, fair Venus' bower,
With heavenly glee,

A Juno's grace, conjure you to require
Her face to see?

Say Rose, say Daffodil, and Violet blue,
With Primrose fair,

Since ye have seen my nymph's sweet dainty face
And gesture rare,

Did not (bright Cowslip, blooming Pink) her view (White Lily) shine—

(Ah, Gillyflower, ah Daisy!) with a grace Like stars divine?

178.

You

SIR HENRY WOTTON

Elizabeth of Bohemia

meaner beauties of the night, That poorly satisfy our eyes

1568-1639

More by your number than your light,
You common people of the skies;
What are you when the moon shall rise?

You curious chanters of the wood,
That warble forth Dame Nature's lays,
Thinking your passions understood

By your weak accents; what's your praise
When Philomel her voice shall raise?

You violets that first appear,

By your pure purple mantles known
Like the proud virgins of the year,
As if the spring were all your own;
What are you when the rose is blown?

So, when my mistress shall be seen
In form and beauty of her mind,
By virtue first, then choice, a Queen,
Tell me, if she were not design'd
Th' eclipse and glory of her kind.

179. The Character of a Happy Life HOW happy is he born and taught

That serveth not another's will;

Whose armour is his honest thought,
And simple truth his utmost skill!

Whose passions not his masters are;
Whose soul is still prepared for death,
Untied unto the world by care
Of public fame or private breath;

Who envies none that chance doth raise,
Nor vice; who never understood
How deepest wounds are given by praise;
Nor rules of state, but rules of good;