Now resurrection know! shall man alone, EDWARD YOUNG, 1681-1755. Hour. In the frolic view of men. Silvan. Lov'st thou music? Hour. Oh, 'tis sweet! Silvan. What's dancing. Hour. E'en the mirth of feet. Silvan. Joy you in fairies, or in elves But, Silvan, say, why do you love Silvan. Life is fullest of content When delight is innocent. Hour. Pleasure must vary, not be long; Come, then, let's close, and end the song. DR. THOMAS CAMPION 1607. TO CYNTHIA. Queen and huntress, chaste and fair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Earth, let not thy envious shade Heaven to clear when day did close; Bless us, then with wished sight, Lay thy bow of pearl apart, And thy crystal-shining quiver; Give unto the flying hart Space to breathe, how short soever; Thou that mak'st a day of night, Goddess excellently bright! BEN JONSON 1574-1637. TO NIGHT. Mysterious Night! when our first parent knew Did he not tremble for this lovely frame, This glorious canopy of light and blue? Yet 'neath the curtain of translucent dew, Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame, And lo creation widened in man's view. Who could have thought such darkness lay concealed While fly, and leaf, and insect lay revealed, BLANCO WHITE. NIGHT. When I survey the bright So rich with jewels hung, that night My soul her wings doth spread, The Almighty's mysteries to read In the large volume of the skies. For the bright firmament Shoots forth no flame So silent, but is eloquent In speaking the Creator's name. No unregarded star Contracts its light Into so small character, Remov'd far from our human sight: But if we steadfast look, We shall discern In it, as in some holy book, How man may heavenly knowledge learn. It tells the conqueror That far-stretch'd power, Which his proud dangers traffic for, Is but the triumph of an hour. That from the farthest north Some nation may Yet undiscovered issue forth, And o'er his new-got conquest sway. Some nation yet shut in With hills of ice, May be let out to scourge his sin, And they likewise shall Their ruin have; For as yourselves, your empires fall, There those celestial fires, Though seeming mute, The fallacy of our desires, And all the pride of life confute. For they have watch'd since first And found sin in itself accurst, And nothing permanent on earth. WILLIAM HABINGTON, 1560-1647 TO THE MOON. FROM THE GERMAN. Fillest hill and vale again,. Still with softening light! Loosest from the world's cold chain All my soul to-night! Spreadest round me, far and nigh, From thee, as from friendship's eye, Every echo thrills my heart- |