MADRIGAL.

From Davison's Poetical Rhapsody, 1602.

MY love in her attire doth show her wit,

It doth so well become her:

For every season she hath dressings fit,
For winter, spring, and summer.
No beauty she doth miss,

When all her robes are on:

But Beauty's self she is

When all her robes are gone.

THE GRACE OF BEAUTY.

From Dowland's Third Book of Songs or Airs, 1603.

BY a fountain where I lay,

(All blessed be that blessed day!)

By the glimmering of the sun,
(O never be her shining done!)

When I might see alone

My true love, fairest one!
Love's dear light!

Love's clear sight!

No world's eyes can clearer see!

A fairer sight none can be!

Fair with garlands all addrest,
(Was never Nymph more fairly blest!)
Blessed in the highest degree;
(So may she ever blessed be!)

Came to this fountain near,
With such a smiling cheer!

Such a face!

Such a grace!

Happy! happy eyes! that see
Such a heavenly sight as she!

Then I forthwith took my pipe,
Which I all fair and clean did wipe,
And upon a heavenly ground,
All in the grace of beauty found,
Played this roundelay,

"Welcome, fair Queen of May!
Sing, sweet air!

Welcome Fair!

Welcome be the Shepherds' Queen!
The glory of all our green!”

LULLABY.

From Dowland's Third Book of Songs or Airs, 1603.

WEEP you no more, sad fountains,

What need you flow so fast?

Look how the snowy mountains
Heaven's sun doth gently waste.
But my sun's heavenly eyes,
View not your weeping,
That now lies sleeping,
Softly, now softly lies
Sleeping.

Sleep is a reconciling,

A rest that peace begets;
Doth not the sun rise smiling
When fair at even he sets?
Rest you, then, rest sad eyes,
Melt not in weeping,
While she lies sleeping,
Softly, now softly lies

Sleeping.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

(1564-1616.)

There are several convenient modern reprints of Shakespeare's Songs and Sonnets, including Prof. Dowden's, Prof. Palgrave's, and the edition by Mr. William Sharp in the Canterbury Poets. About the sonnets a voluminous literature has grown up. They appeared in 1609. It is conjectured they were written about 1598.

From Love's Labour's Lost, Act v. Sc. 2.

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 blood is nipped and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whit;

Tu-who, a merry note,

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

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,
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whit;

Tu-who, a merry note,

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

From Midsummer Night's Dream, Act ii. Sc. I.

VER hill, over dale,

OVER

Thorough bush, thorough brier,

Over park, over pale,

Thorough flood, thorough fire,

I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moonës sphere;
And I serve the fairy queen,

To dew her orbs upon the green.
The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
In their gold coats spots you see;
Those be rubies, fairy favours,

In those freckles live their savours:
I must go seek some dewdrops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.

From Midsummer Night's Dream, Act ii. Sc. 2.

First Fairy. YOU spotted snakes with double tongue,

Chorus.

Thorny hedge-hogs, be not seen;

Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong;
Come not near our fairy queen.

Philomel, with melody,

Sing in our sweet lullaby;

Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby;

Never harm,

Nor spell, nor charm,

Come our lovely lady nigh;

So, good night, with lullaby.

First Fairy. Weaving spiders, come not here:

Chorus.

Hence, you long-legged spinners, hence!
Beetles black, approach not near;

Worm, nor snail, do no offence.
Philomel, with melody, &c.

From The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act iv. Sc. I.

WHO is Silvia? what is she,

That all our swains commend her?
Holy, fair, and wise is she;

The heaven such grace did lend her, That she might admired be.

Is she kind as she is fair?

For beauty lives with kindness. Love doth to her eyes repair,

To help him of his blindness, And, being helped, inhabits there.

Then to Silvia let us sing,
That Silvia is excelling;
She excels each mortal thing
Upon the dull earth dwelling:

To her let us garlands bring.

From The Merchant of Venice, Act iii. Sc. 2.

ELL me where is fancy bred,

TELL

Or in the heart, or in the head?

How begot, how nourished?

Reply, reply.

It is engendered 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.

From As You Like It, Act ii. Sc. 5.

UNDER the greenwood tree

Who loves to lie with me

And turn his merry note
Unto the sweet bird's throat,