CXLVI

Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth,
[Amidst] these rebel powers that thee array,
Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
Why so large cost, having so short a lease,
Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
Eat up thy charge? is this thy body's end?
Then, soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss,
And let that pine to aggravate thy store;
Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;
Within be fed, without be rich no more:

ΙΟ

So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men, And Death once dead, there's no more dying then.

SONGS FROM THE PLAYS

FROM LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST

When icicles hang by the wall,

And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall,

143

5

ΤΟ

Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit, tu-who! a merry note,

FROM AS YOU LIKE IT

15

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

Under the greenwood tree

Who loves to lie with me,

FROM A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM

And turn his merry note

Unto the sweet bird's throat,

Over hill, over dale,

Thorough bush, thorough brier,

Over park, over pale,

Thorough flood, thorough fire,
I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moonës sphere;
And I serve the Fairy Queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green.
The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
In their gold coats spots you see:
Those be rubies, fairy favours,
In those freckles live their savours.
I must go seek some dewdrops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.