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For toil doth give a better touch

To make us feel our joy;

And ease finds tediousness, as much

As labor yields annoy.

Siren.

Then pleasure likewise seems the shore Whereto tends all your toil;

Which you forego to make it more,

And perish oft the while.

Who may disport them diversely
Find never tedious day;

And ease may have variety,
As well as action may.

Ulysses.

But natures of the noblest frame

These toils and dangers please;

And they take comfort in the same,
As much as you in ease,

And with the thought of actions past

Are recreated still;

When pleasure leaves a touch at last

To show that it was ill.

Siren.

That doth opinion only cause

That's out of custom bred;

Which makes us many other laws

Than ever nature did.

No widows wail for our delights,
Our sports are without blood;
The world we see by warlike wights
Receives more hurt than good.

Ulysses.

But yet the state of things require
These motions of unrest;

And these great spirits of high desire
Seem born to turn them best;

Το

purge the mischiefs that increase And all good order mar;

For oft we see a wicked peace

To be well changed for war.

Siren.*

Well, well, Ulysses, then I see

I shall not have thee here;

And therefore I will come to thee,

And take my fortune there.

The meaning of this verse seems to be that he who will not yield to false pleasure shall win the true pleasure. The author of these verses was Samuel Daniel, a contemporary of Spenser. The lines have something of the roughness characteristic of the old poets, yet less than was usual at his day.

I must be won that cannot win,
Yet lost were I not won;
For beauty hath created been
'T' undo or be undone.

INVOCATION.

By Thetis' tinsel-slippered feet,
And the songs of Sirens sweet;
By dead Parthenope's dear tomb,
And fair Ligea's golden comb,
Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks

Sleeking her soft alluring locks; &c.

COMUS.

THE SIRENS IN THE SKIES.

[Later writers represent the Sirens as presiding over the music of the spheres. In Milton's Arcades they soothe the Fates with their song.]

IN the deep of night, when drowsiness
Hath locked up mortal sense, then listen I
To the celestial Sirens' harmony,

That sit upon the nine infolded spheres,
And sing to those that hold the vital shears,
And turn the adamantine spindle round,
On which the fate of gods and men is wound.

MILTON.

THE MERMAID.

O'ER her fair brow her pearly comb unfurls
Her amber locks, and parts the waving curls;
Each tangled braid with glistening teeth unbinds,
And with the floating treasure musks the winds.
Thrilled by her dulcet accents as she sings,
The rippling wave in widening circles rings.
"O haste!" she carols, "o'er the glassy sea,
Visit the billows' sea-green depths with me;
Behold what treasures dwell beneath the waves,
Dim seen, pale glistening through their shadowy

caves;

Where lurk the pearls, where coral sea-flowers grow, And all the wonders of the world below."

APOLLONIUS RHODIUS.

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Persons.-The CYCLOPS, ULYSSES, CHORUS.

Cyclops.

Aн, me! indeed, what woe has fallen upon me!

But wretched nothings! think ye not to flee

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