WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. Golden lads and girls all must, Fear no more the frown o' the great, Fear no more the lightning flash, No exorciser harm thee! 17 And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste: Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, For precious friends hid in death's dateless night, And weep afresh love's long-since-cancelled woe, And moan the expense of many a vanished sight. Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan, Which I new pay as if not paid before. But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored, and sorrows end. They are the lords and owners of their No! Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change: Thy pyramids built up with newer might To me are nothing novel, nothing strange; They are but dressings of a former sight. Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire What thou dost foist upon us that is old; Thy registers and thee I both defy, This I do vow, and this shall ever be, HOW NEAR TO GOOD IS WHAT IS FAIR! How near to good is what is fair! Which we no sooner see, But with the lines and outward air We wish to see it still, and prove What ways we may deserve; We court, we praise, we more than love, We are not grieved to serve. EPITAPH ON ELIZABETH L. H. WOULDST thou hear what man can say In a little?-reader, stay! Underneath this stone doth lie As much beauty as could die,- UNKNOWN. [Before 1649.] LOVE WILL FIND OUT THE WAY. OVER the mountains, And under the waves, Over the fountains, And under the graves, Where there is no place For the glow-worm to lie, Where there is no place For the receipt of a fly, Where the gnat dares not venture, If Love come he will enter, If that he were hidden, And all men that are, Were strictly forbidden That place to declare; Winds that have no abidings, Pitying their delay, Would come and bring him tidings, And direct him the way. If the earth should part him, He would gallop it o'er; There is no striving To cross his intent, There is no contriving His plots to prevent; But if once the message greet him, If death should come and meet him, The moon shines bright, and the stars Lament, lament, old Abbeys, give a light, A little before it is day; So God bless you all, both great and small, And send you a joyful May! The fairies' lost command; They did but change priests' babies, But some have changed your land; And all your children sprung from thence Are now grown Puritans; |