Memory Then die-that she The common fate of all things rare How small a part of time they share 93 T Edmund Waller [1606-1687] TO THE ROSE: A SONG Go, happy Rose, and, interwove Say, if she's fretful, I have bands I have myrtle rods at will For to tame, though not to kill. Take thou my blessing thús, and go And tell her this, but do not so!- Like a lightning from her eye, Mirthless, alone, and all forlorn: Only she sings not, while my sorrows can So shuts the marigold her leaves So from the honeysuckle sheaves The bee goes when the day is done; So sits the turtle when she is but one, To some few birds, kind Nature hath I oft have heard men say there be But could they teach Forgetfulness, I'd learn; and try what further art could do Sad melancholy, that persuades Men from themselves, to think they be Hath long and bootless dwelt with me; But such she is not: nor would I, For twice as many torments more, Hath brought to those I felt before, Ye hours, then, but as minutes be! (Though so I shall be sooner old) Till I those lovely graces see, Which, but in her, can none behold; Then be an age! that we may never try More grief in parting, but grow old and die. William Browne [1591-1643?] To Lucasta, Going Beyond the Seas 933 TO LUCASTA, GOING TO THE WARS TELL me not, Sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind I could not love thee, Dear, so much, Loved I not Honor more. Richard Lovelace [1618-1658] TO LUCASTA, GOING BEYOND THE SEAS Ir to be absent were to be Away from thee; Or that when I am gone You or I were alone; Then, my Lucasta, might I crave Pity from blustering wind or swallowing wave. But I'll not sigh one blast or gale To swell my sail, Or pay a tear to 'suage The foaming blue god's rage; For whether he will let me pass Or no, I'm still as happy as I was. Though seas and land betwixt us both, Our faith and troth, Like separated souls, All time and space controls: Above the highest sphere we meet Unseen, unknown; and greet as Angels greet. So then we do anticipate And are alive in the skies, If thus our lips and eyes Can speak like spirits unconfined In Heaven, their carthy bodies left behind. Richard Lovelace [1618-1658] SONG TO A FAIR YOUNG LADY, GOING OUT Ask not the cause why sullen Spring And winter storms invert the year: Chloris is gone, the cruel fair; She cast not back a pitying eye: To sigh, to languish, and to die: Great God of Love, why hast thou made And change the laws of every land? When Chloris to the temple comes, I only am by Love designed John Dryden [1631–1700] WRITTEN AT SEA, IN THE FIRST DUTCH WAR (1665), THE NIGHT BEFORE AN ENGAGEMENT To all you ladies now at land We men at sea indite; But first would have you understand The Muses now, and Neptune too, For though the Muses should prove kind, Yet if rough Neptune rouse the wind To wave the azure main, Our paper, pen, and ink, and we, Roll up and down our ships at sea- Then if we write not by each post, Nor yet conclude our ships are lost Our tears we'll send a speedier way, The tide shall bring them twice a day- The King with wonder and surprise But let him know it is our tears Bring floods of grief to Whitehall stairs With a fa, la, la, la, la. Should foggy Opdam chance to know The Dutch would scorn so weak a foe, |