Pillars let some set up, If so they please, Here is my hope And my Pyramides. Robert Herrick. LXXXVI. TO BLOSSOMS. FAIR pledges of a fruitful tree, Why do ye fall so fast? Your date is not so past, But you may stay yet here awhile What, were ye born to be An hour or half's delight; And so to bid good-night? But you are lovely leaves, where we Into the grave.-Robert Herrick. LXXXVII. AN ODE FOR BEN JONSON. AH Ben! Say how or when Shall we thy guests The Dog, the Triple Tun, Where we such clusters had As made us nobly wild, not mad? Outdid the meat, outdid the frolic wine. Or come agen, Or send to us Thy wit's great overplus; But teach us yet Lest we that talent spend ; And having once brought to an end That precious stock,-the store Of such a wit the world should have no more. Robert Herrick. LXXXVIII, AN AWAKENING SONG. SISTER, awake! close not your eyes! And the bright morning doth arise See, the clear sun, the world's bright eye, In at our window peeping : Lo! how he blusheth to espy Us idle wenches sleeping. Therefore, awake! make haste, I say, And let us, without staying, All in our gowns of green so gay LXXXIX. FROM "THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN." ROSES, their sharp spines being gone, Primrose, first-born child of Ver, Oxlips in their cradles growing, All, dear Nature's children sweet, Not an angel of the air, Bird melodious or bird fair, Be absent hence! The crow, the slanderous cuckoo, nor May on our bride-house perch or sing, But from it fly!-John Fletcher. XC. THE BROWN OWL. SWEET Suffolk owl, so trimly dight Thou singest alone, sitting by night, Thy note, that forth so freely rolls, XCI. AN EPITAPH ON SALATHIEL PAVY, A CHILD OF QUEEN ELIZABETH'S CHAPEL. WEEP with me, all you that read And know, for whom a tear you shed 'Twas a child that so did thrive As Heaven and Nature seemed to strive Years he numbered scarce thirteen When Fates turned cruel, Yet three filled zodiacs had he been And did act, (what now we moan,) As, sooth, the Parcæ thought him one, He played so truly. So, by error, to his fate They all consented; But, viewing him since, (alas, too late) And have sought (to give new birth) But being so much too good for Earth, Ben Jonson. XCII. EARLY ONE MORNING. EARLY one morning, just as the sun was rising, "Remember the vows that you made to your Mary, Remember the bow'r where you vow'd to be true. "Oh, gay is the garland, and fresh are the roses, Thus sang the poor maiden, her sorrows bewailing, XCIII. THE WILL. BEFORE I sigh my last gasp, let me breathe, |