He that looks still on your eyes, Though the winter have begun Shall not want the summer's sun. He that still may see your cheeks, Other lilies, other roses. 12 16 He to whom your soft lip yields, And perceives your breath in kissing, All the odours of the fields Never, never shall be missing. He that question would anew Let him rightly study you, 1616? 1815. William Browne, of Tavistock. MY CHOICE SHALL I tell you whom I love? And if such a woman move 20 24 1616. Nature did her so much right As e'er yet embraced a heart. Wit she hath, without desire To make known how much she hath; And her anger flames no higher Than may fitly sweeten wrath. Full of pity as may be, Though perhaps not so to me. Reason masters every sense, Modest in her most of mirth. Such she is; and if you know Be assured 't is she, or none, William Browne, of Tavistock. 12 18 24 30 OVER THE MOUNTAINS OVER the mountains And over the waves, And under the graves; Over rocks that are steepest, When there is no place For the glow-worm to lie, For receipt of a fly; When the midge dares not venture 8 And will find out the way. 16 You may esteem him A child for his might; Or you may deem him A coward from his flight; Some think to lose him Poor thing! to be blind; But if ne'er so close ye wall him, He will find out his way. You may train the eagle Or you may inveigle The Phoenix of the east; The lioness, you may move her If the earth it should part him, Love will lend wings to follow, There is no striving To cross his intent; There is no contriving His plots to prevent; |