Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth,
Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
Why so large cost, having so short a lease,5
Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend?
Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body's end?
No frost nor snow, no wind, I trow,
Can hurt me if it would,
I am so wrapt and throughly lapt
Of jolly good ale and old.
Back and side, etc.
And Tib my wife, that as her life
Loveth well good ale to seek,
Full oft drinks she, till ye may see
The tears run down her cheek;
Then doth she trowl2 to me the bowl
Even as a maltworm3 should,
And saith, "Sweetheart, I have take my
part
Now let them drink till they nod and I laugh not at another's loss;
Even as good fellows should do;
They shall not miss to have the bliss
Good ale doth bring men to.
And all poor souls that have scoured1 bowls,
Or have them lustily trowled,
God save the lives of them and their wives,
Whether they be young or old.
Back and side, go bare, go bare,
Both hand and foot go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale But all the pleasure that I find
enough,
I grudge not at another's pain;
No worldly waves my mind can toss;
My state at one doth still remain:
I fear no foe, I fawn no friend;
I loathe not life, nor dread my end.
Some weigh their pleasure by their lust,
Their wisdom by their rage of will;
Their treasure is their only trust;
A cloakèd craft their store of skill:
Is to maintain a quiet mind.
Whether it be new or old.
SIR EDWARD DYER (1550?-1607)
My wealth is health and perfect ease;
My conscience clear my chief defence;
I neither seek by bribes to please,
Nor by deceit to breed offence:
MY MIND ΤΟ ΜΕ A KINGDOM IS Thus do I live; thus will I die;
I see how plenty [surfeits] oft,
And hasty climbers soon do fall;
I see that those which are aloft
Mishap doth threaten most of all;
They get with toil, they keep with fear:
Such cares my mind could never bear.
Content to live, this is my stay;
I seek no more than may suffice;
I press to bear no haughty sway;
Look, what I lack my mind supplies:
Lo, thus I triumph like a king,
Content with that my mind doth bring.
Some have too much, yet still do crave;25
I little have, and seek no more.
SIR PHILIP SIDNEY (1554-1586)
Ring out your bells, let mourning shows
be spread;
For Love is dead:
All Love is dead, infected
With plague of deep disdain:
Worth, as nought worth, rejected, 5
And Faith fair scorn doth gain.
From so ungrateful fancy,
From such a female franzie,2
From them that use men thus,
Good Lord, deliver us!
They are but poor, though much they Let dirge be sung, and trentals rightly read,
What bird so sings, yet so does wail?
O 'tis the ravished nightingale.
"Jug, jug, jug, jug, tereu," she cries,
And still her woes at midnight rise.
Brave prick-song! who is't now we hear? 5
None but the lark so shrill and clear;
Now at heaven's gates she claps her wings,
The morn not waking till she sings.
Hark, hark, with what a pretty throat
Poor robin redbreast tunes his note;
Hark how the jolly cuckoos sing,
Cuckoo, to welcome in the spring;
Cuckoo, to welcome in the spring!
Adieu, farewell, earth's bliss,
This world uncertain is:
Fond1 are life's lustful joys,
Death proves them all but toys.
None from his darts can fly;
I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us!
Rich men, trust not in wealth,
Gold cannot buy you health;
Physic himself must fade;
All things to end are made;
The plague full swift goes by;
I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us!
Beauty is but a flower,
Which wrinkles will devour: Brightness falls from the air; Queens have died young and fair;
Dust hath closed Helen's eye;
I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us!
Haste therefore each degree
To welcome destiny:
Heaven is our heritage,
Earth but a player's stage;
Mount we unto the sky;
I am sick, I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us!
SIR WALTER RALEIGH (15527-1618)
And drink mine everlasting fill
Upon every milken hill.
My soul will be a-dry before;
But, after, it will thirst no more.
Then by that happy blissful day
More peaceful pilgrims I shall see,
That have cast off their rags of clay,
And walk apparelled fresh like me.
badge of a pilgrim.
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