How fair an entrance breaks the way to love! How rich the golden hope, and gay delight! What heart cannot a modest beauty move? Who seeing clear day once will dream of night? She seemed a saint, that brake her faith with me; But proved a woman, as all other be.
So bitter is their sweet that True Content Unhappy men _in_ them may never find: Ah! but _without_ them, none. Both must consent, Else uncouth are the joys of either kind. Let us then praise their good, forget their ill! Men must be men, and women women still.
From FRANCIS PILKINGTON's _Second Set of Madrigals_, 1624.
Wake, sleepy Thyrsis, wake For Love and Venus' sake! Come, let us mount the hills Which Zephyrus with cool breath fills; Or let us tread new alleys, In yonder shady valleys. Rise, rise, rise, rise! Lighten thy heavy eyes: See how the streams do glide And the green meads divide: But stream nor fire shall part This and this joinèd heart.
We be soldiers three, _Pardona moy je vous an pree_, Lately come forth of the Low Country With never a penny of money. Fa la la la lantido dilly.
Here, good fellow, I drink to thee, _Pardona moy je vous an pree_, To all good fellows wherever they be, With never a penny of money.
And he that will not pledge me this, _Pardona moy je vous an pree_, Pays for the shot whatever it is, With never a penny of money.
Charge it again, boy, charge it again, _Pardona moy je vous an pree_, As long as there is any ink in thy pen, With never a penny of money.
We be three poor mariners, Newly come from the seas; We spend our lives in jeopardy While others live at ease. Shall we go dance the round, the round, Shall we go dance the round? And he that is a bully boy Come pledge me on this ground!
We care not for those martial men That do our states disdain; But we care for the merchant men Who do our states maintain: To them we dance this round, around, To them we dance this round; And he that is a bully boy Come pledge me on this ground!
We must not part as others do, With sighs and tears, as we were two: Though with these outward forms we part, We keep each other in our heart. What search hath found a being, where I am not, if that thou be there?
True love hath wings, and can as soon Survey the world as sun and moon, And everywhere our triumphs keep O'er absence which makes others weep: By which alone a power is given To live on earth, as they in heaven.
