Carve for himself; for on his choice depends Whereof he is the head. Then, if he says he loves you, It fits your wisdom so far to believe it, As he in his particular act and place May give his saying deed: which is no further Or lose your heart; or your chaste treasure open Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister; Oph. I shall the effect of this good lesson keep, As watchman to my heart; but, good my brother, Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven; Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, Laer. Oh, fear me not I stay too long. But here my father comes. Enter POLONIUS. A double blessing is a double grace; Pol. Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame, The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, And you are staid for: There-my blessing with you; [Laying his hand on LAERTES' head. And these few precepts in thy memory Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy : And they in France, of the best rank and station, Are most select and generous, chief in that. For loan oft loses both itself and friend; Laer. Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord. Pol. The time invites you; go, your servants tend. Laer. Farewell, Ophelia; and remember well What I have said to you. Oph. 'Tis in my memory lock'd, And you yourself shall keep the key of it. Laer. Farewell. ROBERT SOUTHWELL. LOOK HOME. 1560-1595. RETIRED thoughts enjoy their own delights, The mind a creature is, yet can create, What thought can think, another thought can mend. Man's soul of endless beauties image is, All that he had, his image should present; EDWARD VERE, EARL OF OXFORD. 1534-1604. FANCY AND DESIRE. WHEN Wert thou born, Desire? In pride and pomp of May. By whom, sweet boy, wert thou begot? By fond conceit, men say. Tell me who was thy nurse? Fresh youth, in sugar'd joy. What was thy meat and daily food? Sad sighs with great annoy. What hadst thou then to drink? Unsavoury lover's tears. What cradle wert thou rock'd in? In hope devoid of fears. What lull'd thee, then, asleep? Sweet sleep, which likes me best. Tell me where is thy dwelling-place? In gentle hearts I rest. What thing doth please thee most? To gaze on beauty still. What dost thou think to be thy foe? Disdain of my good-will. Doth company displease? Yes, surely, many one. Where doth Desire delight to live? He loves to live alone. Doth either Time or Age bring him into decay? No, no, Desire both lives and dies a thousand times a day. Then, fond Desire, farewell! thou art no mate for me: I should, methinks, be loth to dwell with such a one as thee. CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. 1562-1593. THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE. COME live with me and be my love, And we will sit upon the rocks, And I will make thee beds of roses, A gown made of the finest wool, A belt of straw and ivy buds, The shepherd swains shall dance and sing, |