If by me broke, what fool is not so wise IX. If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love? O never faith could hold, if not to beauty vow'd: Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll constant prove; [bow'd. Those thoughts, to me like oaks, to thee like osiers Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine eyes, Where all those pleasures live, that art can comprehend. [suffice; If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall Well learned is that tongue that well can thee commend ; All ignorant that soul that sees thee without wonder; Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire : Thine eye Jove's lightning seems, thy voice his dreadful thunder, Which (not to anger bent) is musick and sweet fire. Celestial as thou art, O do not love that wrong, To sing the heavens' praise with such an earthly tongue. X. Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good, A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower, And as goods lost are seld or never found, So beauty blemish'd once, for ever's lost, XI. Good night, good rest. Ah! neither be Farewell, quoth she, and come again to-morrow; Yet at my parting sweetly did she smile, In scorn or friendship, nill I construe whether : 'T may be, she joy'd to jest at my exile, 'T may be, again to make me wander thither : Wander, a word for shadows like myself, As take the pain, but cannot pluck the pelf XII. Lord, how mine eyes throw gazes to the east! My heart doth charge the watch; the morning rise Doth cite each moving sense from idle rest. 3 3 duff'd] i. e. put off. Not daring trust the office of mine eyes, While Philomela sits and sings, I sit and mark, For she doth welcome day-light with her ditty, sorrow; Were I with her, the night would post too soon; XIII. It was a lording's daughter, the fairest one of three, That liked of her master as well as well might be, Till looking on an Englishman, the fairest that eye could see, 4 Her fancy fell a turning. a moon] i. e. a month, Steevens's conjecture for the reading of the old copy, “an hour." Long was the combat doubtful, that love with love did fight, To leave the master loveless, or kill the gallant knight: To put in practice either, alas it was a spite Unto the silly damsel. gain, But one must be refused, more mickle was the pain, away; [day, [gay; Then lullaby, the learned man hath got the lady For now my song is ended. XIV. On a day (alack the day!) Love, whose month was ever May, Spy'd a blossom passing fair, Playing in the wanton air: Through the velvet leaves the wind, All unseen, 'gan passage find; That the lover, sick to death, Wish'd himself the heaven's breath. Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow; Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn: Vow, alack, for youth unmeet, My flocks feed not, My ewes breed not, My rams speed not, Love is dying, Heart's denying, Causer of this. XV All my merry jigs are quite forgot, All my lady's love is lost, God wot: Where her faith was firmly fix'd in love, Wrought all my loss; O frowning fortune, cursed, fickle dame! For now I see, Inconstancy More in women than in men remain. • Do not call it, &c.] This couplet is supplied from the song as given in Love's Labour's Lost, act iv. sc. 3. S |