COME unto these yellow sands;
And then take hands!
Courtesied when you have, and kist
The wild waves whist;
Foot it featly here and there;
And, sweet Sprites, hear
The Burthen.

BURTHEN, DISPERSEDLY.

Hark! Hark! bow-wow!

The watch-dogs bark! bow-wow!

Hark! Hark! I hear
The strain of strutting Chanticleer
Cry, Cock-a-doodle do!'

O, MISTRESS mine, where are you roaming?
O, stay, and hear! Your True Love's coming;
That can sing both high and low.
Trip no further, pretty Sweeting!
Journeys end in Lovers' meeting,
Every wise man's son doth know!

What is Love? 'Tis not hereafter!
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What's to come is still unsure!
in delay, there lies no plenty!
Then come, kiss me, sweet and twenty!
Youth's a stuff will not endure!

UNDER the greenwood tree,
Who loves to lie with me;
And turn his merry note

Unto the sweet bird's throat;

Come hither! Come hither! Come hither!
Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather!

Who doth ambition shun,

And loves to live i' th' sun;
Seeking the food he eats,

And pleased with what he gets;

Come hither! Come hither! Come hither! &c.

ORPHEUS, with his lute, made trees,
And the mountain tops that freeze,
Bow themselves, when he did sing!
To his music, plants and flowers
Ever sprang! as sun and showers
There had made a lasting Spring.

Every thing that heard him play,
Even the billows of the sea,

Hung their heads; and then lay by!
In sweet Music is such art,
Killing care and grief of heart.
Fall asleep! or, hearing, die!

BLOW, blow, thou winter wind!
Thou art not so unkind
As Man's ingratitude!

Thy tooth is not so keen;

Because thou art not seen,

Although thy breath be rude.

Heigh ho! Sing, Heigh ho! unto the green holly! Most friendship is feigning! most loving, mere folly! The[n], Heigh ho! the holly!

This life is most jolly!

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky!
That dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot!

Though thou the waters warp;
Thy sting is not so sharp

As friend remembered not!

Heigh ho! Sing, Heigh ho! unto the green holly! &c.

COME away, come away, death!

And in sad cypress let me be laid.
Fly away, fly away, breath!

I am slain by a fair cruel Maid.

My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
O, prepare it!

My part of death, no one so true

Did share it!

Not a flower, not a flower sweet

On my black coffin, let there be strown! Not a friend, not a friend greet

My poor corse! where my bones shall be thrown.
A thousand thousand sighs to save,
Lay me, O, where

Sad True Lover never find my grave,
To weep there!

TAKE, O, take those lips away,
That so sweetly were forsworn!
And those eyes, the break of day;
Lights that do mislead the Morn!

But my kisses bring again! bring again!
Seals of love; but sealed in vain! sealed in vain!

JOHN FLETCHER.

[He inserted the above stanza in The Bloody Brother; and then added the following one. Both are thought to be translations from the Latin of CAIUS CORNELIUS GALLUS.-E. A.]

HIDE, O, hide those hills of snow;
Which thy frozen bosom bears!
On whose tops, the pinks that grow,
Are of those that April wears.

But first set my poor heart free!
Bound in those icy chains by thee.

VERSES BY SHAKESPEARE,

COMPLETED BY SUCKLING.

ONE of her hands one of her cheeks lay under,
Cozening the pillow of a lawful kiss:

Which therefore swelled, and seemed to part asunder;
As angry to be robbed of such a bliss.

The one looked pale, and for revenge did long;
While t'other blushed, 'cause it had done the wrong.

Out of the bed, the other fair hand was
On a green satin quilt: whose perfect white
Looked like a daisy in a field of grass;
And shewed like unmelt snow unto the sight*.
There lay this pretty perdue, safe to keep SHAKESPEARE.
The rest o' th' body, that lay fast asleep.

* Thus far

Her eyes (and therefore it was night!) close laid,
Strove to imprison Beauty till the morn:
But yet the doors were of such fine stuff made,
That it broke through, and shewed itself in scorn;
Throwing a kind of light about the place,

Which turned to smiles still as't came near her face. Her beams (which some dull men called hair!) divided; Part with her cheeks, part with her lips, did sport: But these, as rude, her breath put by still. Some Wiselier downwards sought: but falling short, Curled back in rings; and seemed to turn again To bite the part so unkindly held them in.