MAKING HAY-ROPES AMETAS HINK'ST THOU that this love can stand, THI Whilst thou still dost say me Nay? Love unpaid does soon disband: Love binds love, as hay binds hay. THESTYLIS Think'st thou that this rope would twine ALEXANDER BROME No PALINODE O MORE, no more of this, I vow! 'Tis time to leave this fooling now, Which few but fools call wit. There was a time when I begun, My heat of youth, and love, and pride, And made me then converse with toys I was persuaded in those days But now my youth and pride are gone, What need I take a needless toil To spend my labour, time, and oil, Since no design can move? For now the cause is ta'en away What reason is 't the effect should stay? 'Tis but a folly now for me To spend my time and industry For when I think I have done well, Great madness 'tis to be a drudge, Besides the danger that ensu'th To him that speaks or writes the truth, To be call'd Poet and wear bays, And factor turn of songs and plays,— This is no wit at all. Wit only good to sport and sing Is a needless and an endless thing. Give me the wit that can't speak sense, Ne'er learn'd but of his Gran'am ! His thousand pound per annum ; And purchase without more ado The poems, and the poet too. RICHARD BROME BEGGARS' SONG OME! COME AWAY! the Spring, COME By every bird that can but sing Or chirp a note, doth now invite In field, in grove, on hill, in dale; Who in her sweetness strives to outdo Cuckoo ! cries he; jug, jug, jug! sings she: Come away! Why do we stay? Cuckoo cries he; jug, jug, jug! sings she: Why in one place then tarry we? HENRY VAUGHAN EPITHALAMIUM TO THE BEST AND MOST ACCOMPLISH'D COUPLE LESSINGS as rich and fragrant crown your heads BL As the mild heaven on roses sheds When at their cheeks like pearls they wear The clouds that court them in a tear! And may they be fed from above By Him which first ordain'd your love! Fresh as the Hours may all your pleasures be, Sweet as the flowers' first breath, and close Soft as yourselves run your whole lives, and clear In all your time not one jar meet,— Like the Day's warmth may all your comforts be, Untoil'd for and serene as he, |