This, sure, is Beauty's happiest part;
This gives the most unbounded sway;
This shall enchant the subject heart
When rose and lily fade away;
And she be still, in spite of Time,
Sweet Amoret in all her prime.
462. The Complaint
AWAY! away!
Tempt me no more, insidious Love:
Thy soothing sway
Long did my youthful bosom prove:
At length thy treason is discern'd,
At length some dear-bought caution earn'd:
Away! nor hope my riper age to move.
I know, I see
Her merit. Needs it now be shown,
Alas! to me?
How often, to myself unknown,
The graceful, gentle, virtuous maid
Have I admired! How often said--
What joy to call a heart like hers one's own!
But, flattering god,
O squanderer of content and ease
In thy abode
Will care's rude lesson learn to please?
O say, deceiver, hast thou won
Proud Fortune to attend thy throne,
Or placed thy friends above her stern decrees?
463. The Nightingale
TO-NIGHT retired, the queen of heaven
With young Endymion stays;
And now to Hesper it is given
Awhile to rule the vacant sky,
Till she shall to her lamp supply
A stream of brighter rays.
Propitious send thy golden ray,
Thou purest light above!
Let no false flame seduce to stray
Where gulf or steep lie hid for harm;
But lead where music's healing charm
May soothe afflicted love.
To them, by many a grateful song
In happier seasons vow'd,
These lawns, Olympia's haunts, belong:
Oft by yon silver stream we walk'd,
Or fix'd, while Philomela talk'd,
Beneath yon copses stood.
Nor seldom, where the beechen boughs
That roofless tower invade,
We came, while her enchanting Muse
The radiant moon above us held:
Till, by a clamorous owl compell'd,
She fled the solemn shade.
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O then bespake her
Here upon my true
Thus night oft see
When she is by
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Earth fills her lap
Give her strewings but
Weep not my wanton
O there s nocht
The night is come
327 Why so Pale
Let no deluding dreames
Why so More we
She comb d its
JOHN DRYDEN 1631 1700
Its fields were speckled
Her bosom heaved she
Their winding sheet the
Fill high the sparkling
He s soft and
The solemn echo seems
And here s a
So peaceful rests without
Her morals too were
With skill her eyes
But now my task
There she sees the
The planetary sisters all
I call d the
Their name their years
It is not now
Come then my bird
Now noon is went
The lonesome Spirit from
Such shall the noise
Thou shalt at one
There burst he forth
O lift me as
But hark I hear
Yet I can claim
Sin I fro Love
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE 1564 1616
Now understand to Westmoreland
But wisest Fate sayes
1558 97 101 Fair
217 Weep no more
707 From In Memoriam
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