Whose dreadful name late thro' all Spain did thunder, And Hercules' two pillars standing near Did make to quake and fear : Fair branch of honour, flower of chivalry! And endless happiness of thine own name That through thy prowess and victorious arms To ages following, Upon the bridal day, which is not long : Sweet Thames! run softly, till I end my song. From those high towers this noble lord issuing With a great train ensuing. Above the rest were goodly to be seen That like the twins of Jove they seem'd in sight Received those two fair brides, their love's delight; Each one did make his bride Against their bridal day, which is not long: Sweet Thames! run softly, till I end my song. E. Spenser LIV THE HAPPY HEART Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers? Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplexéd? Dost thou laugh to see how fools are vexéd Then hey nonny nonny, hey nonny nonny! Canst drink the waters of the crispéd spring? Swimm'st thou in wealth, yet sink'st in thine own tears? Then he that patiently want's burden bears LV This Life, which seems so fair, T. Dekker Is like a bubble blown up in the air By sporting children's breath, Who chase it every where And strive who can most motion it bequeath. And though it sometimes seem of its own might And firm to hover in that empty height, That only is because it is so light. -But in that pomp it doth not long appear; LVI SOUL AND BODY 30 Poor Soul, the centre of my sinful earth, LVII LIFE The World's a bubble, and the Life of Man In his conception wretched, from the womb Curst from his cradle, and brought up to years Who then to frail mortality shall trust, Yet whilst with sorrow here we live opprest, Courts are but only superficial schools The rural parts are turn'd into a den LIV THE HAPPY HEART Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers? Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplexéd ? Dost thou laugh to see how fools are vexéd Then hey nonny nonny, hey nonny nonny! Canst drink the waters of the crispéd spring? Swimm'st thou in wealth, yet sink'st in thine own tears? Then he that patiently want's burden bears LV This Life, which seems so fair, T. Dekker Is like a bubble blown up in the air By sporting children's breath, Who chase it every where And strive who can most motion it bequeath. And though it sometimes seem of its own might Like to an eye of gold to be fix'd there, And firm to hover in that empty height, That only is because it is so light. -But in that pomp it doth not long appear; For when 'tis most admired, in a thought, Because it erst was nought, it turns to nought. W. Drummond LVI SOUL AND BODY 30 Poor Soul, the centre of my sinful earth, LVII LIFE The World's a bubble, and the Life of Man In his conception wretched, from the womb Curst from his cradle, and brought up to years Who then to frail mortality shall trust, Yet whilst with sorrow here we live opprest, Courts are but only superficial schools The rural parts are turn'd into a den |