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When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding:
Sweet lovers love the spring.

Between the acres of the rye,

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
These pretty country folks would lie,
In spring time, etc.

This carol they began that hour,

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
How that a life was but a flower

In spring time, etc.

And therefore take the present time,

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino;
For love is crownèd with the prime

In spring time, etc.

1599?

1623

5

ΙΟ

115

O MISTRESS MINE, WHERE ARE YOU ROAMING
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 weeting;
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.

1600?

1623.

COME AWAY, COME AWAY, DEATH

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.

5

ΙΟ

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

5

My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown.

A thousand thousand sighs to save,

Lay me, O, where

Sad true lover never find my grave,

ΙΟ

1600?

To weep there!

15

1623.

HOW SHOULD I YOUR TRUE LOVE KNOW

How should I your true love know

From another one?

By his cockle hat and staff,

And his sandal shoon.

He is dead and gone, lady,

He is dead and gone;

At his head a grass-green turf,

At his heels a stone.

White his shroud as the mountain snow,

Larded with sweet flowers,

Which bewept to the grave did go

1602?

With true-love showers.

1603.

AND WILL HE NOT COME AGAIN

And will he not come again?

And will he not come again?

No, no, he is dead:

Go to thy death-bed;
He never will come again.

5

ΙΟ

5

His beard was as white as snow,
All flaxen was his poll.

He is gone, he is gone,

And we cast away moan:

God ha' mercy on his soul!

1602?

1604.

ΙΟ

1603.

TAKE, O TAKE THOSE LIPS AWAY

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.

WITCHES' INCANTATION

1623.

First Witch.

Thrice the brinded cat hath mewed.

Second Witch.

Thrice and cnce the hedge-pig whined.

Third Witch. Harpier cries, ""T is time, 't is time."
First Witch. Round about the cauldron go;

In the poisoned entrails throw.

Toad, that under cold stone

Days and nights has thirty-one
Sweltered venom sleeping got,

Boil thou first i' th' charmed pot.

All. Double, double toil and trouble;

Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

Second Witch. Fillet of a fenny snake,

In the cauldron boil and bake;

Eye of newt and toe of frog,

Wool of bat and tongue of dog,

Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,

Lizard's leg and howlet's wing,

For a charm of powerful trouble,

5

5

ΤΟ

15

Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

All. Double, double toil and trouble;

20

Third Witch. Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,

Witches' mummy, maw and gulf

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Second Witch. Cool it with a baboon's blood, Then the charm is firm and good.

1606?

1623.

COME, THOU MONARCH OF THE VINE

Come, thou monarch of the vine,
Plumpy Bacchus with pink eyne!
In thy fats our cares be drowned,

With thy grapes our hairs be crowned:
Cup us, till the world go round,

5

Cup us, till the world go round!

1608?

1623.

HARK! HARK! THE LARK

Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,

And Phoebus 'gins arise,

His steeds to water at those springs

On chaliced flowers that lies;

And winking Mary-buds begin
To ope their golden eyes:
With everything that pretty is,
My lady sweet, arise!

1610-11?

Arise, arise!

1623.

5

FEAR NO MORE THE HEAT O' TH' SUN

Fear no more the heat o' th' sun,

Nor the furious winter's rages;

Thou thy worldly task hast done,

Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages:
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

Fear no more the frown o' th' great;
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke;
Care no more to clothe and eat;

To thee the reed is as the oak:
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this and come to dust.

Fear no more the lightning-flash,

Nor th' all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;

Thou hast finished joy and moan:
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee and come to dust.

No exorciser harm thee!

Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!

Nothing ill come near thee!

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