SIR WALTER RALEIGH. THE NYMPH's REPLY TO THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD. that the world and love were young, THE SOUL's ERRAND. Go, soul , the body's guest, Upon a thankless errand, Go, since I needs must die, And give the world the lie. And shines like rotten wood, If church and court reply, Tell potentates, they live Acting by others actions, If potentates reply, Give potentates the lie. Tell men of high condition, That rule affairs of state, And if they once reply, Tell them that brave it most, They beg for more by spending, And if they make reply, Tell zeal it lacks devotion, Tell love it is but last, Tell time it is but motion, Tell flesh it is but dust. And wish them not reply, For thou must give the lie. Tell age it daily wasteth, Tell honour how it alters, Tell beauty how she blasteth, Tell favour how she falters. And as they shall reply Give each of them the lie. Tell wit how much it wrangles In tickle points of niceness; Tell wisdom she entangles Herself in over wiseness. And if they do reply, Straight give them both the lie. Tell physic of her boldness, Tell skill it is pretension, Tell charity of coldness, Tell law it is contention. And as they yield reply, So give them still the lie. Tell nature of decay, And if they dare reply, Then give them all the lie. Tell arts they have no soundness, But vary by esteeming, If arts and schools reply, -, The shallow murmur, but the deep are dumb: For, knowing that 36 SIR WALTER RALEIGH. Tell faith it's fled the city. «V811 Tell how the country erreth oo Tell manhood shakes off pityr Da Tell sirtue least preferrethoil And if they do reply, zsisse Spare not to give the lies : J921). Commanded thee, done blabbing; THE SILENT LOVER. The bottom is but shallow whence they come.. They that are rich in words must needs discover, They are but poor in that which makes a lover. Wrong not, sweet mistress of my heart, '. The merit of true passion, Who sues for no compassion. The conquest of thy beauty, sue serve, A place in her affection, Than venture the revealings Despair disdains the healing... IPI »98 Where fragranteeds sweetest gales. Silence in love betrays more woe Than words, though ne'er so witty ; May challenge double pity. My love for secret passion; IMITATION OF MARLOW. And we will revet all the year, on hills and dales, air There shall you have the beauteous pine, : The cedar and the spreading vine, And all the woods to be a skreen, |