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THE LULLABY OF A LOVER.

SING lullabies, as women do,

With which they charm their babes to reft; And lullaby can I fing too,

As womanly as can the best. With lullaby they ftill the child ; And, if I be not much beguil'd, Full many wanton babes have I, Which must be ftill'd with lullaby.

First lullaby my youthful years:
It is now time to go to bed:
For crooked age, and hoary hairs,

Have wore the haven within mine head.

With lullaby then youth be ftill,

With lullaby content thy will;

Since courage quails, and comes behind,
Go fleep, and fo beguile thy mind,

Next, lullaby my gazing eyes,

Which wonted were to glance apace ;

For ev'ry glass may now fuffice.
To fhew the furrows in my face.
With lullaby then wink awhile;
With lullaby your looks beguile;
Let no fair face, or beauty bright,
Entice you efte with vain delight,

And lullaby, my wanton will,

Let reafon's rule now rein thy thought, Since all too late I find by skill,

How dear I have thy fancies bought; With lullaby now take thine ease, With lullaby thy doubt appease; For, truft in this, if thou be ftill, My body shall obey thy will.

Thus lullaby my youth, mine eyes,
My will, my ware, and all that was;
I can no more delays devise;

But, welcome pain, let pleasure pass. With lullaby now take your leave, With lullaby your dreams deceive, And, when you rife with waking eye, Remember then this lullaby.

I

THE DOLE OF DESPAIR,

WRITTEN BY A LOVER

Difdainfully rejected, contrary to former Promises.

MUST alledge, and thou canst tell

How faithfully I vow'd to ferve:

And how thou feem'dft to like me well;

And how thou faidft I did deserve To be thy Lord, thy Knight, thy King, And how much more I lift not fing.

E

And canft thou now,

thou cruel one,

Condemn defert to deep despair?

Is all thy promise paft and gone?

Is faith fo fled into the air?
If that be fo, what rests for me,
But thus, in fong, to say to thee:

If Creffid's name were not so known,
And written wide on every wall;
If bruit of pride were not so blown
Upon Angelica withall;

For hault difdain, you might be she;
Or Creffid for inconstancy.

And in reward of thy desert,

I hope at last to see thee paid With deep repentance for thy part

Which thou haft now fo lewdly play'd; Medoro, he must be thy make,

Since thou Orlando doft forfake.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEAR.

SONG.

BLOW, blow thou Winter-wind,

Thou art not fo unkind

As man's ingratitude :
Thy tooth is not fo keen,
Because thou art not feen,
Although thy breath be rude.

Freeze, freeze thou bitter sky,
Thou doft not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy fting is not so sharp

As friend remember'd not.

SONNET.

ON a day, (alack the day!)

Love, whofe month is ever May,
Spied a bloffom, paffing fair,

Playing in the wanton air.

Through the velvet leaves the wind
All unfeen 'gan paffage find,

That the lover, fick to death,

Wish'd himself the heaven's breath.

Air (quoth he) thy cheeks may blow ;-
Air, would I might triumph fo!
But, alack! my hand is fworn

Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn,

Vow, alack! for youth unmeet,
Youth fo apt to pluck a sweet;
Do not call it fin in me

That I am forfworn for thee;

Thou, for whom ev'n Jove would fwear

Juno but an Æthiop were;

And deny himself for Jove,
Turning mortal for thy love.

WH

SPRING, A SONG.

HEN daifies pied and violets blue,
And lady-fmocks, all filver white,
And cuckow-buds, of yellow hue,

Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckow then on every tree
Mocks married men, for thus fings he;
Cuckow!

Cuckow! cuckow! O word of fear,
Unpleafing to a married ear.

When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,

And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks and daws,

And maidens bleach their fummer fmocks;

The cuckow then on every tree

Mocks married men, for thus fings he;

Cuckow!

Cuckow! Cuckow! O word of fear,

Unpleafing to a married ear.

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