Even so my sun one early morn did shine THE expense of spirit in a waste of shame Is lust in action; and till action, lust Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame, Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream. All this the world well knows; yet none knows well To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell. FANCY TELL me where is Fancy bred, It is engendered in the eyes; In the cradle where it lies: I'll begin it,-Ding, dong, bell. UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE UNDER the greenwood tree Unto the sweet bird's throatCome hither, come hither, come hither! Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. Who doth ambition shun And pleased with what he getsCome hither, come hither, come hither! Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. FAIRIES COME unto these yellow sands, And then take hands: Courtsied when you have, and kissed, The wild waves whist, Foot it featly here and there; And sweet Sprites the burthen bear. Hark, hark! Bow-bow. The watch-dogs bark: Bow-wow. Hark, hark! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer COME AWAY COME away, come away, Death, And in sad cypres 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, My part of death, no one so true Not a flower, not a flower sweet Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown; A thousand, thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O where Sad true lover ne'er may find my grave FULL FATHOM FIVE FULL fathom five thy father lies; Hark! now I hear them,- DIRGE FEAR no more the heat o' the sun Fear no more the frown o' the great, Fear no more the lightning-flash Nor the 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. SONG TAKE, O take those lips away Bring again Seals of love, but sealed in vain, 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. SONG 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, And at his head a green grass turf White his shroud as mountain snow, Larded with sweet showers, Which bewept to the grave did go, With true love showers. ANONYMOUS TOM O' BEDLAM THE morn's my constant mistress, And the lovely owl my marrow; The flaming drake, And the night-crow, make Me music to my sorrow. |