Then Julia let me woo thee,
Thus, thus to come unto me;
And, when I shall meet
Thy silvery feet,

My soul I'll pour into thee.

THE MAD MAID'S SONG

GOOD-MORROW to the day so fair,
Good-morrow, sir, to you;
Good-morrow to my own torn hair,
Bedabbled all with dew.

Good-morrow to this primrose too;
Good-morrow to each maid

That will with flowers the tomb bestrew
Wherein my love is laid.

Ah, woe is me; woe, woe is me;
Álack and well-a-day!

For pity, sir, find out that bee

Which bore my love away.

I'll seek him in your bonnet brave;

I'll seek him in your eyes;

Nay, now I think they've made his grave In the bed of strawberries.

I'll seek him there, I know ere this The cold, cold earth doth shake him;

But I will go, or send a kiss

By you, sir, to awake him.

Pray hurt him not; though he be dead,
He knows well who do love him,
And who with green turfs rear his head,
And who so rudely move him.

He's soft and tender, pray take heed;
With bands of cowslips bind him,
And bring him home; but 'tis decreed
That I shall never find him.

TO BLOSSOMS

FAIR pledges of a fruitful tree,
Why do you fall so fast?
Your date is not so past,
But you may stay yet here awhile,
To blush and gently smile,
And go at last.

What! were ye born to be

An hour or half's delight,
And so to bid good-night?
'Tis pity nature brought ye forth
Merely to show your worth,
And lose you quite.

But you are lovely leaves, where we
May read how soon things have
Their end, though ne'er so brave:
And after they have shown their pride,
Like you awhile, they glide
Into the grave.

TO DAFFODILS

FAIR daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon;
As yet the early-rising sun

Has not attained his noon :

Stay, stay,

Until the hast'ning day
Has run

But to the even-song;

And having prayed together, we

Will go with you along!

We have short time to stay as you ;
We have as short a spring;

As quick a growth to meet decay,
As you or any thing:
We die,

As your hours do; and dry
Away

Like to the summer's rain,
Or as the pearls of morning-dew,
Ne'er to be found again.

JULIA

SOME asked me where the rubies grew,
And nothing did I say,

But with my finger pointed to

The lips of Julia.

Some asked how pearls did grow, and where,
Then spake Ï to my girl,

To part her lips, and show me there
The quarelets of pearl.

One asked me where the roses grew,
I bade him not go seek;

But forthwith bade my Julia shew
A bud in either cheek.

TO THE VIRGINS, TO MAKE MUCH OF THEIR TIME

GATHER the rose-buds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying,

And this same flower that smiles to-day,
To-morrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the Sun,
The higher he's a-getting,

The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But, being spent, the worse, and worst
Time shall succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while you may, go marry ;
For, having lost but once your prime,
You may for ever tarry.

TWELFTH NIGHT, OR KING AND QUEEN

Now, now the mirth comes,

With the cake full of plums,

Where bean's the king of the sport here;
Beside, we must know,

The pea also

Must revel as queen in the court here.

Begin then to choose,

This night, as ye use,

Who shall for the present delight here;
Be a king by the lot,
And who shall not

Be Twelfth-day queen for the night here.

Which known, let us make
Joy-sops with the cake;

And let not a man then be seen here,
Who unurged will not drink,

To the base from the brink,

A health to the king and the queen here.

Next crown the bowl full
With gentle lamb's-wool;
Add sugar, nutmeg, and ginger,
With store of ale, too;

And thus ye must do

To make the wassail a swinger.

Give them to the king
And queen wassailing;

And though with ale ye be wet here;
Yet part ye from hence,

As free from offence,

As when ye innocent met here.

THE BAG OF THE BEE

ABOUT the sweet bag of a bee,
Two Cupids fell at odds;

And whose the pretty prize should be,
They vowed to ask the gods.

Which Venus hearing, thither came,
And for their boldness stript them;
And taking thence from each his flame,
With rods of myrtle whipt them.

Which done, to still their wanton cries, When quiet grown she'ad seen them, She kissed and wiped their dove-like eyes And gave the bag between them.

A THANKSGIVING FOR HIS HOUSE

LORD, Thou hast given me a cell
Wherein to dwell;

A little house, whose humble roof
Is weatherproof;

Under the spars of which I lie
Both soft and dry.

Where Thou, my chamber for to ward,
Hast set a guard

Of harmless thoughts, to watch and keep
Me while I sleep.

H