Doth ask a drink divine;

But might I of Jove's nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.

I sent thee late a rosy wreath,

Not so much honouring thee As giving it a hope, that there

It could not withered be;

But thou thereon didst only breathe

And sent'st it back to me;

Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,
Not of itself, but thee!

HYMN TO DIANA

QUEEN and Huntress, chaste and fair,

Now the sun is laid to sleep,

Seated in thy silver chair,

State in wonted manner keep:
Hesperus entreats thy light,
Goddess excellently bright.

Earth, let not thy envious shade

Dare itself to interpose;

Cynthia's shining orb was made

ΙΟ

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Heaven to clear when day did close:

IO

Bless us then with wishèd sight,

Goddess excellently bright.

Lay thy bow of pearl apart.

And thy crystal-shining quiver;

Give unto the flying hart

Space to breathe, how short soever :
Thou that mak'st a day of night,
Goddess excellently bright.

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PURITAN AND CAVALIER

JOHN DONNE

1573-1631

A HYMN TO GOD THE FATHER

WILT Thou forgive that sin where I begun,

Which was my sin, though it were done before?
Wilt Thou forgive that sin, through which I run
And do run still, though still I do deplore?
When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done;
For I have more.

Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I have won
Others to sin, and made my sins their door?
Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I did shun

A year or two, but wallow'd in, a score?
When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done;
For I have more.

I have a sin of fear, that when I've spun

My last thread, I shall perish on the shore ; But swear by Thyself, that at my death Thy Son Shall shine, as He shines now and heretofore: And having done that, Thou hast done ;

I fear no more.

ON THE SACRAMENT

He was the Word that spake it;
He took the bread and brake it ;
And what that Word did make it
I do believe and take it.

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ΙΟ

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ROBERT HERRICK

1591-1674

THE ARGUMENT OF THE HESPERIDES

I SING of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers,
Of April, May, of June and July flowers;
I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes,
Of bridegrooms, brides and of their bridal cakes;
I write of youth, of love, and have access
By these to sing of cleanly wantonness;
I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by piece.
Of balm, of oil, of spice and ambergris ;
I sing of times trans-shifting, and I write.
How roses first came red and lilies white;
I write of groves, of twilights, and I sing
The court of Mab, and of the fairy king;
I write of hell; I sing (and ever shall)
Of heaven, and hope to have it after all.

TO DAFFODILS

FAIR Daffodils, we weep to see

You haste away so soon;

As yet the early-rising sun
Has not attained his noon.

Stay, stay,

Until the hasting day

Has run

But to the even-song!

And, having prayed together, we
Will go with you along.

We have short time to stay, as you,

We have as short a spring;

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ΙΟ

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IO

Sweet rose, whose hue, angry and brave,
Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye,

Thy root is ever in its grave,

And thou must die.

Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses,
A box where sweets compacted lie,

My music shows ye have your closes,

And all must die.

Only a sweet and virtuous soul,

Like seasoned timber, never gives,

But though the whole world turn to coal,
Then chiefly lives.

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ΙΟ

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EDMUND WALLER

1606-1687

OLD AGE

[From Divine Love]

THE seas are quiet when the winds give o'er!
So calm are we when passions are no more!
For then we know how vain it was to boast
Of fleeting things too certain to be lost.
Clouds of affection from our younger eyes
Conceal that emptiness which age descries.

The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed,
Lets in new light thro' chinks that time has made:
Stronger by weakness wiser men become

As they draw near to their eternal home :

Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view
That stand upon the threshold of the new.

JOHN MILTON

1608-1674

L'ALLEGRO

HENCE, loathed Melancholy,

Of Cerberus, and blackest Midnight born,

In Stygian cave forlorn,

'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy, Find out some uncouth cell,

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Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings,

And the night-raven sings;