Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

Fear no more the frown o' the great,
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke;
Care no more to clothe, and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak:
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.

Fear no more the lightning flash,
Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finished joy and moan:
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.

No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing ill come near thee !
Quiet consummation have;
And renowned be thy grave.

17

And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:

Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,

And weep afresh love's long-since-cancelled woe,

And moan the expense of many a vanished sight.

Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan, Which I new pay as if not paid before. But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,

All losses are restored, and sorrows end.

do change:

Thy pyramids built up with newer might To me are nothing novel, nothing strange; They are but dressings of a former sight. Our dates are brief, and therefore we admire

What thou dost foist upon us that is old;
And rather make them born to our desire,
Than think that we before have heard
them told.

Thy registers and thee I both defy,
Not wondering at the present nor the past;
For thy records and what we see do lie,
Made more or less by thy continual haste:

This I do vow, and this shall ever be,
I will be true, despite thy scythe and
thee.

HOW NEAR TO GOOD IS WHAT IS FAIR!

How near to good is what is fair!

Which we no sooner see,

But with the lines and outward air
Our senses taken be.

We wish to see it still, and prove

What ways we may deserve; We court, we praise, we more than love, We are not grieved to serve.

EPITAPH ON ELIZABETH L. H. WOULDST thou hear what man can say In a little?-reader, stay!

Underneath this stone doth lie

As much beauty as could die,-
Which in life did harbor give
To more virtue than doth live.
If at all she had a fault,
Leave it buried in this vault.
One name was Elizabeth,
The other, let it sleep with death.
Fitter where it died to tell,
Than that it lived at all. Farewell!

UNKNOWN.

[Before 1649.]

LOVE WILL FIND OUT THE WAY.

OVER the mountains,

And under the waves,

Over the fountains,

And under the graves,
Under floods which are deepest,
Which Neptune obey,
Over rocks which are steepest,
Love will find out the way.

Where there is no place

For the glow-worm to lie, Where there is no place

For the receipt of a fly,

Where the gnat dares not venture,
Lest herself fast she lay,

If Love come he will enter,
And find out the way.

If that he were hidden,

And all men that are, Were strictly forbidden

That place to declare;

Winds that have no abidings,

Pitying their delay,

Would come and bring him tidings, And direct him the way.

If the earth should part him,

He would gallop it o'er;
If the seas should o'erthwart him,
He would swim to the shore.
Should his love become a swallow,
Through the air to stray,
Love will lend wings to follow,
And will find out the way.

There is no striving

To cross his intent,

There is no contriving

His plots to prevent;

But if once the message greet him,
That his true love doth stay,

If death should come and meet him,
Love will find out the way.

give a light,

A little before it is day;

So God bless you all, both great and

small,

And send you a joyful May!

The fairies' lost command;

They did but change priests' babies,

But some have changed your land; And all your children sprung from thence Are now grown Puritans;