THE SHEPHERD TO HIS MISTRESS. MARLOWE. COME live with me, and be my love, And we will sit upon the rocks, And I will make thee beds of roses, A gown made of the finest wool, A belt of straw and ivy buds, The shepherd swains shall dance and sing THE STEADFAST SHEPHERD. WITHER. HENCE, away, thou Syren, leave me ! No common snare Can ever my affection chain : And poor deceits, Are all bestow'd on me in vain. I'm no slave to such as you be, Thy beauty's ray To some more soon-enamour'd swain : Those forced wiles Of sighs and smiles Are all bestow'd on me in vain. I have elsewhere vow'd a duty; Where gaudy clothes And feigned oaths may love obtain: Whose looks swear no, That all thy labour will be vain. Can he prize the tainted posies On her sweet breast That is the pride of Cynthia's train: Is all bestow'd on me in vain. He's a fool that basely dallies Where each peasant mates with him; Shall I haunt the thronged valleys, Whilst I've noble hills to climb ? No, no ;-though clowns Are scar'd with frowns, I know the best can but disdain: So will thy love Be all bestow'd on me in vain. Leave me then, thou Syren, leave me! To lead astray The heart that constant shall remain ; Will sit and smile To see you spend your time in vain. ALLANBERG AND HIS HAWK. ANONYMOUS. IN Persia's domain there once held his reign Respect most profound fill'd his subjects around, Till, source of dire woes, in his bosom arose Dash'd the joys of his life, and, engendering strife, But trifles at times, amid ruinous crimes, A glorious reform may begin, And paint to the sight, in their own hideous light, The demons of passion and sin. Such the chance that befell (as old chronicles tell) This Persian monarch so vain : No pastime had place in his mind but the chase, O'er mountain, or valley, or plain. Yet the hound and the horn he regarded with scorn, Nor the hound nor the horn would employ ; But ever would talk of his favourite Hawk, Which still was his master's joy. When Allanberg's eye the game might descry, Like the lightning of heaven, when the signal was given, As nimbly his favourite sprang. With his courtiers abroad the monarch once rode, When a deer started up on his way; The Hawk at command flew forth from his hand, And faithfully seiz'd on the prey. The King sought the place with precipitate pace; His courtiers he left far behind : Now with anxious look, some meandering brook He search'd all around him to find: Faint with thirst and with toil, o'er the parching soil He wander'd, but wander'd in vain ;By a mountain's side at last he descried A gleam of relief from his pain: From a rock that was near, some spring-water clear Trickled down, drop by drop, on the wold; To his quiver he flew, and a little cup he drew, For these gems seem'd more precious than gold. The blest draught to sip, he applies to his lip When the Hawk at his side flapp'd his pinions wide, And the stream in a moment spill'd. Then a second limpid draught he eagerly caught, Which the Bird again dispers'd; The King with fury shook, and the trembling Hawk he took "Thou shalt die, thou Fiend accurst!" Then to finish the strife, he dash'd out the life |