From JOHN MUNDY's _Songs and Psalms_, 1594.
Were I a king, I might command content; Were I obscure, unknown should be my cares: And were I dead, no thoughts should me torment, Nor words, nor wrongs, nor loves, nor hopes, nor fears. A doubtful choice, of three things one to crave; A kingdom, or a cottage, or a grave.
From THOMAS CAMPION's _Third Book Of Airs_ (circ. 1613).
Were my heart as some men's are, thy errors would not move me, But thy faults I curious find and speak because I love thee; Patience is a thing divine, and far, I grant, above me.
Foes sometimes befriend us more, our blacker deeds objecting, Than th' obsequious bosom-guest with false respect affecting; Friendship is the Glass of Truth, our hidden stains detecting.
While I use of eyes enjoy and inward light of reason, Thy observer will I be and censor, but in season; Hidden mischief to conceal in state and love is treason.
What hap had I to marry a shrow! For she hath given me many a blow, And how to please her alack I do not know.
From morn to even her tongue ne'er lies, Sometimes she brawls, sometimes she cries, Yet I can scarce keep her talents[23] from mine eyes.
If I go abroad and late come in,-- "Sir knave," saith she, "Where have you been?" And do I well or ill she claps me on the skin.
From ORLANDO GIBBONS' _First Set Of Madrigals_, 1612. (Ascribed to Sir Walter Raleigh.)
What is our life? a play of passion: Our mirth? the music of division. Our mothers' wombs the tyring-houses be Where we are drest for this short comedy: Heaven the judicious sharp spectator is That sits and marks whoe'er doth act amiss: Our graves, that hide us from the searching sun, Are like drawn curtains when the play is done: Thus march we playing to our latest rest, Only we die in earnest,--that's no jest.
What needeth all this travail and turmoiling, Short'ning the life's sweet pleasure To seek this far-fetched treasure In those hot climates under Ph[oe]bus broiling?
O fools, can you not see a traffic nearer In my sweet lady's face, where Nature showeth Whatever treasure eye sees or heart knoweth? Rubies and diamonds dainty And orient pearls such plenty, Coral and ambergreece sweeter and dearer Than which the South Seas or Moluccas lend us, Or either Indies, East or West, do send us!