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Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee,
And the elves also,Whose little eyes glowLike the sparks of fire, befriend thee.No Will-o’-th’-Wisp mis-light thee,Nor snake or slow-worm bite thee;But on, on thy way,Not making a stay,Since ghost there’s none to affright thee.Let not the dark thee cumber;What though the moon does slumber?The stars of the nightWill lend thee their light,Like tapers clear without…
Come, sit we under yonder tree,
And as on primroses we sit,We’ll venture, if we can, at wit;If not, at draw-gloves we will play,So spend some minutes of the day;Or else spin out the thread of sands,Playing at questions and commands:Or tell what strange tricks Love can do,By quickly making one of two.Thus we will sit and talk, but tellNo cruel…
My soul would one day go and seek
A richess of those sweets she found,As in another Rosamond;But gathering roses as she was,Not knowing what would come to pass,it chanced a ringlet of her hairCaught my poor soul, as in a snare;Which ever since has been in thrall;–Yet freedom she enjoys withal.
Droop, droop no more, or hang the head,
Now strength, and newer purple get,Each here declining violet.O primroses! let this day beA resurrection unto ye;And to all flowers allied in blood,Or sworn to that sweet sisterhood.For health on Julia’s cheek hath shedClaret and cream commingled;And those, her lips, do now appearAs beams of coral, but more clear.
That flow of gallants which approach
That fleet of lackeys which do runBefore thy swift postilion;Those strong-hoof’d mules, which we beholdRein’d in with purple, pearl, and gold,And shed with silver, prove to beThe drawers of the axle-tree;Thy wife, thy children, and the stateOf Persian looms and antique plate:–All these, and more, shall then affordNo joy to thee, their sickly lord.