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My great travail so gladly spent,

Forget not yet!

Forget not yet when first began

The weary life ye know, since whan
The suit, the service none tell can;

Forget not yet!

Forget not yet the great assays,
The cruel wrong, the scornful ways,
The painful patience in delays,

Forget not yet!

Forget not! O, forget not this,
How long ago hath been, and is
The mind that never meant amiss-

Forget not yet!

Forget not then thine own approved
The which so long hath thee so loved,
Whose steadfast faith yet never moved-
Forget not this!

THE LOVER'S APPEAL

AND wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay! say nay! for shame,
To save thee from the blame
Of all my grief and grame.
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay! say nay!

And wilt thou leave me thus,
That hath loved thee so long
In wealth and woe among:
And is thy heart so strong
As for to leave me thus?
Say nay! say nay!

And wilt thou leave me thus,
That hath given thee my heart
Never for to depart

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Neither for pain nor smart:
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay! say nay!

And wilt thou leave me thus,

And have no more pity

Of him that loveth thee?

Alas! thy cruelty!

And wilt thou leave me thus?

Say nay! say nay!

HENRY HOWARD, EARL OF SURREY
[1517 (?)-1547]

COMPLAINT OF THE ABSENCE OF HER LOVER
BEING UPON THE SEA

O HAPPY dames! that may embrace
The fruit of your delight,

Help to bewail the woful case

And eke the heavy plight

Of me, that wonted to rejoice

The fortune of my pleasant choice:

Good ladies, help to fill my mourning voice.

In ship, freight with rememberance
Of thoughts and pleasures past,
He sails that hath in governance
My life while it will last:

With scalding sighs, for lack of gale,
Furthering his hope, that is his sail,
Toward me, the swete port of his avail.

Alas! how oft in dreams I see

Those eyes that were my food;
Which sometime so delighted me,
That yet they do me good:
Wherewith I wake with his return

Whose absent flame did make me burn:

But when I find the lack, Lord! how I mourn!

When other lovers in arms across
Rejoice their chief delight,
Drowned in tears, to mourn my loss
I stand the bitter night

In my window where I may see
Before the winds how the clouds flee:
Lo! what a mariner love hath made me!

And in green waves when the salt flood
Doth rise by rage of wind,

A thousand fancies in that mood
Assail my restless mind.

Alas! now drencheth my sweet foe,
That with the spoil of my heart did go,
And left me; but alas! why did he so?

And when the seas wax calm again
To chase fro me annoy,

My doubtful hope doth cause me plain;
So dread cuts off my joy.

Thus in my wealth mingled with woe
And of each thought a doubt doth grow;

-Now he comes! Will he come? Alas! no, no.

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THE MEANS TO ATTAIN HAPPY LIFE

MARTIAL, the things that do attain

The happy life be these, I find:-
The richesse left, not got with pain;
The fruitful ground, the quiet mind;

The equal friend; no grudge, no strife;

No charge of rule, nor governance;
Without disease, the healthful life;
The household of continuance;

The mean diet, no delicate fare;

True wisdom join'd with simpleness;

The night dischargèd of all care,

Where wine the wit may not oppress.

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The faithful wife, without debate;
Such sleeps as may beguile the night:
Contented with thine own estate

Ne wish for death, ne fear his might.

GEORGE GASCOIGNE

[1525 (?)-1577]

A LOVER'S LULLABY

SING lullaby, as women do,

Wherewith they bring their babes to rest;
And lullaby can I sing too,

As womanly as can the best.
With lullaby they still the child;
And if I be not much beguiled,
Full many a wanton babe have I,
Which must be still'd with lullaby.
First lullaby my youthful years,
It is now time to go to bed:
For crooked age and hoary hairs

Have won the haven within my head.
With lullaby, then, youth be still;

With lullaby content thy will;

Since courage quails and comes behind,
Go sleep, and so beguile thy mind!

Next lullaby my gazing eyes,

Which wonted were to glance apace;

For every glass may now suffice

To show the furrows in thy face.
With lullaby then wink awhile;
With lullaby your looks beguile;
Let no fair face, nor beauty bright,
Entice you eft with vain delight.

And lullaby my wanton will;

Let reason's rule now reign thy thought; Since all too late I find by skill

How dear I have thy fancies bought;

With lullaby now take thine ease,
With lullaby thy doubts appease;
For trust to this, if thou be still,
My body shall obey thy will.

Thus lullaby my youth, mine eyes,

My will, my ware, and all that was: I can no more delays devise;

But welcome pain, let pleasure pass. With lullaby now take your leave; With lullaby your dreams deceive; And when you rise with waking eye, Remember then this lullaby.

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NICHOLAS BRETON

[1545 (?)-1626 (?)]

PHILLIDA AND CORIDON

IN the merry month of May,
In a morn by break of day,
Forth I walk'd by the wood-side
When as May was in his pride:
There I spied all alone
Phillida and Coridon.

Much ado there was, God wot!
He would love and she would not.
She said, Never man was true;
He said, None was false to you.
He said, He had loved her long;
She said, Love should have no wrong.
Coridon would kiss her then;
She said, Maids must kiss no men
Till they did for good and all;
Then she made the shepherd call
All the heavens to witness truth
Never loved a truer youth.
Thus with many a pretty oath,
Yea and nay, and faith and troth,