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WHEN ICICLES HANG BY THE
From L. L. L.
WHEN icicles hang by the wall,
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall,
And milk comes frozen home in pail,
When all aloud the wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. 1598.
THE SIRENS' SONG
STEER, hither steer your winged pines,
All beaten mariners !
A prey to passengers-
Fear not your ships,
But come on shore,
For swelling waves our panting breasts,
Where never storms arise,
For stars gaze on our eyes.
We will not miss
-Then come on shore,
William Browne, of Tavistock.
PHEBUS, arise ! And paint the sable skies With azure, white, and red; Rouse Memnon's mother from her Tithon's bed, That she thy career may with roses spread; The nightingales thy coming each-where sing; Make an eternal spring! Give life to this dark world which lieth dead; Spread forth thy golden hair In larger locks than thou wast wont before, And emperor-like decore With diadem of pearl thy temples fair : Chase hence the ugly night, Which serves but to make dear thy glorious light. This is that happy morn, That day, long wished day Of all my life so dark (If cruel stars have not my ruin sworn And fates not hope betray), Which only white deserves A diamond for ever should it mark: This is the morn should bring unto this grove My Love, to hear and recompense my love. Fair King, who all preserves,
But show thy blushing beams,
And in the violet imbroider'd vale
Where the love-lorn Nightingale Nightly to thee her sad Song mourneth well: Canst thou not tell me of a gentle Pair
That likest thy Narcissus are?
O if thou have
Tell me but where,
Harmonies ! 1634.
Listen where thou art sitting
In twisted braids of lilies knitting
Listen for dear honour's sake,
Listen and save!
Listen and appear to us,