TO ANTHEA.

ID me to live, and I will live
Thy protestant to be;

Or bid me love, and I will give
A loving heart to thee :-

A heart as soft, a heart as kind,
A heart as sound and free,
As in the whole world thou canst find,
That heart I'll give to thee.

Bid that heart stay, and it will stay
To honour thy decree;
Or bid it languish quite away,

It shall do so for thee.

Bid me to weep, and I will weep
While I have eyes to see;
And having none, I yet will keep
A heart to weep for thee.

Bid me despair, and I'll despair
Under that cypress tree;
Or bid me die, and I will dare

E'en death to die for thee.

Thou art my life, my love, my heart,
The very eyes of me ;

And hast command of every part,

To live and die for thee.

ROBERT HERRICK.

SONNET.

O me, fair friend, you never can be old;
For as you were when first your eye
I eyed,

Such seems your beauty still three

winters' cold

Have from the forests shook three summers' pride, Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd, In process of the season. I have seen

Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd Since first I saw you fresh which yet are green. Ah! yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand,

Steal from his figure, and no pace perceived; So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand, Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived; For fear of which hear this, thou age unbred, Ere you were born was beauty's summer shed.

BEN JONSON.

LOVE'S ANNIVERSARY.

(TO THE SUN.)

HOU art return'd (great light!) to that blest hour

In which I first by marriage, sacred
power,

Join'd with Castara hearts-and as the same
Thy lustre is as then, so is our flame.

It had increased, but that, by Love's decree,
'Twas such at first, it could not greater be.
But tell me, glorious lamp! in thy survey
Of things below thee, what did not decay
By age to weakness? I since that have seen
The rose bud forth and fade, the tree grow green
And wither, and the beauty of the field
With winter wrinkled. E'en thyself dost yield
Something to time, and to thy grave fall nigher;
But virtuous love is one sweet endless fire.

HABINGTON.

1605-1645.

LET ME NOT TO THE MARRIAGE.

SONNET.

ET me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments.

love,

Love is not

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove.

Oh, no; it is an ever-fixèd mark,

That looks on tempests and is never shaken : It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours or weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error, and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

SHAKESPEARE

SEE THE CHARIOT AT HAND.

SONG.

EE the chariot at hand here of Love,
Wherein my lady rideth!

Each that draws is a swan or a dove,
And well the car Love guideth.

As she goes, all hearts do duty

Unto her beauty,

And enamour'd do wish so they might

But enjoy such a sight,

Though they still were to run by her side

Through swords, through seas, where'er she would ride.

Do but look on her eyes! they do light
All that Love's world compriseth;
Do but look on her hair,-it is bright

As Love's star when it riseth.

Do but mark-her forehead's smoother
Than words that soothe her:
And from her arch'd brows, such a grace
Sheds itself through the face,

As alone there triumphs to the life

All the good, all the gain of the elements' strife.

D