Wiiliam Shakespeare 1564-1616 SILVIA (From The Too Gentlemen of Verona, IV. 2, 1598; acted about 1592-93) Who is Silvia? what is she, That all our swains commend her? Holy, fair, and wise is she, The heaven such grace did lend her, 5 That she might admired be. Is she kind as she is fair? For beauty lives with kindness: Then to Silvia let us sing, 5 UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE (From As You Like It, II. 5, acted 1599) Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither: No enemy But winter and rough weather. 10 15 Who doth ambition shun Seeking the food he eats And pleas'd with what he gets, Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. O MISTRESS MINE, WHERE ARE YOU ROAMI (From Twelfth Night, II. 3, about 1601) O mistress mine, where are you roaming? What is love? 'Tis not hereafter: 10 In delay there lies no plenty; Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty, TAKE, OH, TAKE THOSE LIPS AWAY Take, oh take those lips away, bring again. Seals of love, but seal'd in vain, HARK, HARK, THE LARK (From Cymbeline, II. 3, 1609) Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chalic'd flowers that lies; And winking Mary-buds begin to ope their golden eyes; With everything that pretty is-My lady sweet, arise: Arise, arise. DIRGE (From the same, IV. 2) Fear no more the heat of the sun Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages: 5 Golden lads and girls all must, Fear no more the frown o' the great, Thou art past the tyrants' stroke; Fear no more the light'ning flash; 10 15 No exorciser harm thee! Nor no witchcraft charm thee! A SEA DIRGE (From The Tempest, I. 2, 1610) Full fathom five thy father lies; Ding-dong. Hark! now I hear them-Ding-dong bell. ARIEL'S SONG (From the same, Act V. sc. 1) Where the bee sucks, there suck I: In a cowslip's bell I lie; There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly After summer merrily. Merrily, merrily shall I live now Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. 20 5 5 ELIZABETHAN SONNETS Sir Philip Sidney 1554-1586 SONNET XXXI (From Astrophel and Stella, cir. 1591) With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies! Is constant love deemed there but want of wit? Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess? SONNET XXXIX-ON SLEEP (From the same) Come, Sleep! O Sleep, the certain knot of peace, 5 10 |