第9章 FIRST BOOK(6)
Most friendship is feigning， most loving mere folly：
Then， heigh ho！ the holly！
This life is most jolly.
Freeze， freeze， thou bitter sky，
That dost not bite so nigh
As benefts forgot：
Though thou the waters warp，
Thy sting is not so sharp
As friend remember'd not.
Heigh ho！ sing heigh ho！ unto the green holly：
Most friendship is feigning， most loving mere folly：
Then heigh ho！ the holly！
This life is most jolly.
W. SHAKESPEARE
43◆MADRIGAL
My thoughts hold mortal strife；
I do detest my life，
And with lamenting cries，
Peace to my soul to bring，
Oft call that prince which here doth monarchise：
—But he， grim grinning King，
Who caitifs scorns， and doth the blest surprise，
Late having deck'd with beauty's rose his tomb，
Disdains to crop a weed， and will not come.
W. DRUMMOND
44◆DIRGE OF LOVE
Come away， come away， Death，
And in sad cypres let me be laid；
Fly away， fy away， breath；
I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
My shroud of white， stuck all with yew，
O prepare it！
My part of death， no one so true
Did share it.
Not a fower， not a fower sweet
On my black cofn let there be strown；
Not a friend， not a friend greet
My poor corpse， where my bones shall thrown：
A thousand thousand sighs to save，
Lay me， O where
Sad true lover never fnd my grave，
To weep there.
W. SHAKESPEARE
45◆FIDELE
Fear no more the heat o'the sun，
Nor the furious winter's rages；
Thou thy worldly task hast done，
Home art gone and ta'en thy wages：
Golden lads and girls all must，
As chimney-sweepers， come to dust.
Fear no more the frown o'the great，
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke；
Care no more to clothe and eat；
To thee the reed is as the oak：
The sceptre， learning， physic， must
All follow this， and come to dust.
Fear no more the lightning-flash
Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone；
Fear not slander， censure rash；
Thou hast fnish'd joy and moan：
All lovers young， all lovers must
Consign to thee， and come to dust.
W. SHAKESPEARE
46◆A SEA DIRGE
Full fathom fve thy father lies：
Of his bones are coral made；
Those are pearls that were his eyes：
Nothing of him that doth fade，
But doth sufer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange；
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell：
Hark！ now I hear them， —
Ding， dong， Bell.
W. SHAKESPEARE
47◆A LAND DIRGE
Call for the robin-redbreast and the wren，
Since o'er shady groves they hover
And with leaves and fowers do cover
The friendless bodies of unburied men.
Call unto his funeral dole
The ant， the feld-mouse， and the mole，
To rear him hillocks that shall keep him warm
And (when gay tombs are robb'd) sustain no harm；
But keep the wolf far thence， that's foe to men，
For with his nails he'll dig them up again.
J. WEBSTER
48◆POST MORTEM
If Thou survive my well-contented day
When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover，
And shalt by fortune once more re-survey
These poor rude lines of thy deceaséd lover；
Compare them with the bettering of the time，
And though they be outstripp'd by every pen，
Reserve them for my love， not for their rhyme
Exceeded by the height of happier men.
O then vouchsafe me but this loving thought—
"Had my friend's muse grown with this growing age，
A dearer birth than this his love had brought，
To march in ranks of better equipage：
But since he died， and poets better prove，
Theirs for their style I'll read， his for his love."
W. SHAKESPEARE
49◆THE TRIUMPH OF DEATH
No longer mourn for me when I am dead
Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell
Give warning to the world， that I am fed
From this vile world， with vilest worms to dwell；
Nay， if you read this line， remember not
The hand that writ it； for I love you so，
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot
If thinking on me then should make you woe.
O if， I say， you look upon this verse
When I perhaps compounded am with clay，
Do not so much as my poor name rehearse，
But let your love even with my life decay；
Lest the wise world should look into your moan，
And mock you with me after I am gone.
W. SHAKESPEARE
50◆MADRIGAL
Tell me where is Fancy bred，
Or in the heart， or in the head？
How begot， how nourishéd？
Reply， reply.
It is engender'd in the eyes，
With gazing fed； and Fancy dies
In the cradle where it lies：
Let us all ring fancy's knell；
I'll begin it， —Ding， dong， bell.
—Ding， dong， bell.
W. SHAKESPEARE
51◆CUPID AND CAMPASPE
Cupid and my Campaspe play'd
At cards for kisses； Cupid paid：
He stakes his quiver， bow， and arrows，
His mother's doves， and team of sparrows；
Loses them too； then down he throws
The coral of his lip， the rose
Growing on's cheek (but none knows how) ；
With these， the crystal of his brow，
And then the dimple on his chin；
All these did my Campaspe win：
At last he set her both his eyes—
She won， and Cupid blind did rise.
O Love！ has she done this to thee？
What shall， alas！ become of me？
J. LYLY
52◆PACK， CLOUDS， AWAY， AND WELCOME DAY
Pack， clouds， away， and welcome day，
With night we banish sorrow；
Sweet air blow soft， mount larks aloft
To give my Love good-morrow！
Wings from the wind to please her mind，
Notes from the lark I'll borrow；
Bird prune thy wing， nightingale sing，
To give my Love good-morrow；
To give my Love good-morrow
Notes from them both I'll borrow.
Wake from thy nest， Robin-redbreast，
Sing， birds in every furrow；
And from each hill， let music shrill
Give my fair Love good-morrow！
Blackbird and thrush in every bush，
Stare， linnet， and cock-sparrow！
You pretty elves， amongst yourselves
Sing my fair Love good-morrow！
To give my Love good-morrow
Sing birds in every furrow！
T. HEYWOOD
53◆PROTHALAMION
Calm was the day， and through the trembling air
Sweet-breathing Zephyrus did softly play—
A gentle spirit， that lightly did delay
Hot Titan's beams， which then did glister fair；
When I (whom sullen care，
Through discontent of my long fruitless stay
In princes'court， and expectation vain
Of idle hopes， which still do fy away
Like empty shadows， did afict my brain)
Walk'd forth to ease my pain
Along the shore of silver-streaming Thames；
Whose rutty bank， the which his river hems，
Was painted all with variable fowers，
And all the meads adorn'd with dainty gems
Fit to deck maidens'bowers，
And crown their paramours