Maud. Help, murder, help! Rob. Yes, come near. Rob. Was this the charmed circle, Maud. I shall make them sport, [Exeunt all but MAUD. Enter PUCK-HAIRY. Puck. At your beck, madam. Puck. They are other clouds and blacker threat you, dame; Maud. What rocks about me ? Puck. I do love, madam, [Exit. Maud. Lucky, my loved goblin ! [As she is going out, LOREL meets her. Where are you going now? Lor. Unto my tree, Maud. Gang thy gait, and try CONTENTS. PAGE . 301 301 . 302 303 . 303 . . TO THE MEMORY OF MY BELOVED MASTER, WILLIAM SHAKE- EPITAPH ON THE COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE ODE TO SIR WILLIAM SIDNEY ON HIS BIRTHDAY BEN JONSON'S ODE TO HIMSELF UPON THE CENSURE OF HIS ON SOMETHING, THAT WALKS SOMEWHERE . Poems. SONG TO CELIA. DRINK to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; And I'll not look for wine. Doth ask a drink divine : I would not change for thine. Not so much honouring thee It could not wither'd be. And sent'st it back to me : Not of itself, but thee. THE TRIUMPH OF CHARIS. SEE the chariot at hand here of Love, Wherein my Lady rideth ! And well the car Love guideth. Unto her beauty ; And enamour'd, do wish, so they might But enjoy such a sight, That they still were to run by her side, Through swords, through seas, whither she would ride. |