My last good-night! Thou wilt not wake Till I thy fate shall overtake: Till age or grief, or sickness must It so much loves, and fill the room And follow thee with all the speed Than when Sleep breathed his drowsy gale. Through which to thee I swiftly glide. 'T is true, with shame and grief I yield; Thou, like the van, first took'st the field, And gotten hast the victory, In thus adventuring to die Before me, whose more years might crave I shall at last sit down by thee. The thought of this bids me go on, And wait my dissolution With hope and comfort. Dear (forgive The crime) I am content to live, Divided, with but half a heart, Till we shall meet and never part. HENRY KING. The Angler's Wish. I IN these flowery meads would be, Sit here, and see the turtle-dove Or, on that bank, feel the west wind Or a laverock build her nest; Here, give my weary spirits rest, And raise my low-pitched thoughts above Thus, free from lawsuits, and the noise Or, with my Bryan and a book, And angle on; and beg to have IZAAK WALTON. Death's Final Conquest. THE glories of our birth and state Death lays his icy hands on kings; Must tumble down And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade. Some men with swords may reap the field, They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath, The garlands wither on your brow- Upon death's purple altar, now, See where the victor victim bleeds! To the cold tomb Only the actions of the just Smell sweet, and blossom in the dust. JAMES SHIRLEY. The Bride. FROM A BALLAD UPON A WEDDING. THE maid, and thereby hangs a tale, No grape that 's kindly ripe could be Her finger was so small, the ring Her feet beneath her petticoat, But O, she dances such a way! Is half so fine a sight. Her cheeks so rare a white was on, No daisy makes comparison; Who sees them is undone; For streaks of red were mingled there, The side that 's next the sun. Her lips were red; and one was thin, Than on the sun in July. Her mouth so small, when she does speak, Thou 'dst swear her teeth her words did break, That they might passage get; But she so handled still the matter, They came as good as ours, or better, And are not spent a whit. SIR JOHN SUCKLING. Ve Gentlemen of England. YE gentlemen of England And they will plainly show All the cares and the fears When the stormy winds do blow. If enemies oppose us When England is at war With any foreign nation, We fear not wound or scar; Our roaring guns shall teach 'em Our valor for to know, Whilst they reel on the keel, And the stormy winds do blow. Then courage, all brave mariners, To fetch them wealth, we know; Then be bold-work for gold, When the stormy winds do blow. MARTYN PARKER Song. LOVE still has something of the sea, |