'Cause her fortune seems too high; Thinks what, with them, He would do; What care I, how Great She be! Great, or Good, or Kind, or Fair; [A PRISON SONG.] I, THAT erstwhile the world's sweet air did draw, When I was wont to sing of Shepherds' loves, Fields, downs, hills, groves, and all,'s but one poor room! Each morn, as soon as daylight did appear, But though that all the world's delights forsake me; Nor do I pass for all this outward ill! And then, my Mind, that (spite of prison) 's free, Whene'er she pleases, anywhere can be! She 's, in an hour, in France, Rome, Turkey, Spain, In Earth, in Hell, in Heaven; and here again! Yet there's another comfort in my woe; Nor shall my foes, with all their might and power, Wipe out their shame; nor yet this fame of our! Which when they find; they shall my fate envy Till they grow lean, and sick, and mad, and die! Then though my body here in prison rot, So, thus enclosed, I bear Affliction's load; JOHN WEBSTER. CALL for the robin redbreast, and the wren! And with leaves and flowers do cover Call unto his funeral dole, The ant, the field-mouse, and the mole To rear him hillocks that shall keep him warm; And (when gay tombs are robbed) sustain no harın. But keep the wolf far thence! that's foe to men; For with his nails, he'll dig them up again! Let Holy Church receive him duly; ONE OF THE SIRENS SINGS THIS SONG. STEER hither! steer your wingèd pines, Here lie LOVE's undiscovered mines, Perfumes far sweeter than the best Nor any to oppose you, save our lips! Where no joy dies, till Love hath gotten more! But come on shore! Where no joy dies, till Love hath gotten more! For swelling waves; our panting breasts, Exchange! and be a while our guests! To tell each point he nameth, with a kiss! CHORUS. Then come on shore! Where no joy dies, till Love hath gotten more! WELCOME! Welcome! do I sing! He that to the Voice is near, Welcome! Welcome! do I sing! &c. He that looks still on your Eyes, Shall not want the Summer's sun! He that still may see your Cheeks, Welcome! Welcome! do I sing! &c. He, to whom your soft Lip yields, Never, never, shall be missing! Welcome! Welcome! do I sing! &c. |