DRINK to me only with thine eyes,

And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup,

And I'll not look for wine.
The thirst that from my soul doth rise
Doth ask a drink divine;
But might I of Jove's nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.

I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much honouring thee,
As giving it a hope that there

It would not withered be;
But thou thereon didst only breathe,
And sent it back to me;

Since then it grows and smells, I swear,
Not of itself, but thee.

:0:

JOHN LYLY.

1554-1600.

SONG.

O CUPID, monarch over kings,
Wherefore hast thou feet and wings?
Is it to show how swift thou art,
When thou wound'st a tender heart?
Thy wings being clipped, and feet held still,
Thy bow so many could not kill.

It is all one in Venus' wanton school,
Who highest sits, the wise man or the fool.

Soothed with the sound the king grew vain;
Fought all his battles o'er again;
And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice
he slew the slain.

The master saw the madness rise;
His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes:
And while he heaven and earth defied,
Changed his hands and checked his pride.
He chose a mournful muse
Soft pity to infuse:

He sung Darius great and good,
By too severe a fate,
Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen,

Fallen from his high estate,
And welt'ring in his blood:
'Deserted at his utmost need
By those his former bounty fed,
On the bare earth exposed he lies,
With not a friend to close his eyes.

With downcast look the joyless victor
sat,

Revolving in his altered soul
The various turns of fate below;

And now and then a sigh he stole,
And tears began to flow.

The mighty master smiled, to see
That love was in the next degree;
"Twas but a kindred sound to move,
For pity melts the mind to love,

Softly sweet in Lydian measures,
Soon he soothed his soul to pleasures.
War, he sung, is toil and trouble;
Honour but an empty bubble

Never ending, still beginning,
Fighting still, and still destroying:
If the world be worth thy winning,
Think, oh, think it worth enjoying!
Lovely Thais sits beside thee,

Take the good the gods provide thee. The many rend the skies with loud applause; So love was crowned, but music won the

cause.

The prince, unable to conceal his pain,
Gazed on the fair

Who caused his care,

[looked, And sighed and looked, sighed and Sighed and looked, and sighed again: At length, with love and wine at once oppressed,

The vanquished victor sunk upon her breast.

Now, strike the golden lyre again;
A louder yet, and yet a louder strain!
Break his bands of sleep asunder,

And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder.

Hark, hark! the horrid sound

Has raised up his head;

As awaked from the dead, And amazed, he stares around. "Revenge! revenge " Timotheus cries, "See the furies arise! See the snakes that they rear, How they hiss in their hair!

And the sparkles that flash from their eyes! Behold a ghastly band,

Each a torch in his hand!

[slain,

By Lucy warned, of flattering swains
Take heed, ye easy fair!

Of vengeance due to broken vows,
Ye perjured swains- beware!

Three times all in the dead of night
A bell was heard to ring,
And shrieking, at her window thrice
The raven flapped his wing.

Too well the love-lorn maiden knew
The solemn boding sound.
And thus in dying words bespoke
The virgins weeping round:

"I hear a voice you cannot hear,
Which says I must not stay;
I see a hand you cannot see,
Which beckons me away.

"By a false heart and broken vows In early youth I die.

Was I to blame because his bride
Was thrice as rich as I?

[borne

She spoke; she died. Her corpse was
The bridegroom blithe to meet;
He in his wedding trim so gay,

She in her winding sheet.

Then what were perjured Colin's thoughts? How were these nuptials kept?

The bridesmen flocked round Lucy dead,
And all the village wept.

Confusion, shame, remorse, despair,
At once his bosom swell;

The damps of death bedewed his brow;
He shook, he groaned, he fell.

From the vain bride, ah! bride no more! The varying crimson fled,

When stretched before her rival's corpse She saw her husband dead.

I gae then, my love, to win honour and fame! [hame, And if I should chance to come glorious I'll bring a heart to thee with love running o'er, [more. And then I'll leave thee and Lochaber no

-:0:

JOHN GAY.

1688-1732.

BLACK-EYED SUSAN.

ALL in the Downs the fleet was moored,
The streamers waving in the wind,
When Black-eyed Susan came on board.
"Oh! where shall I my true love find?
Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true,
If my sweet William sail among the crew."

William, then high upon the yard,

Rocked with the billows to and fro, Soon as her well-known voice he heard, He sighed, and cast his eyes below; The cord slides quickly through his glowing hands, [stands.

And, quick as lightning, on the deck he