'Cause her fortune seems too high,
Shall I play the fool and die?
Those that bear a noble mind

Where they want of riches find,
Think what with them they would do,
That without them dare to woo:
And unless that mind I see
What care I how great she be.

Great, or good, or kind, or fair,
I will ne'er the more despair:
If she love me, this believe,
I will die, ere she shall grieve.
If she slight me when I woo
I can scorn and let her go:
If she be not fit for me,
What care I for whom she be.

[From his "Mistresse of Philarete," 1622.]

THE STEDFAST SHEPHERD.

GEORGE WITHER.

Hence away, thou Syren, leave me,
Pish! unclasp these wanton arms;
Sug'red words can ne'er deceive me,
(Though thou prove a thousand charms).
Fie, fie, forbear;

No common snare
Can ever my affection chain:

Thy painted baits,

And poor deceits,

Are all bestow'd on me in vain.

I'm no slave to such, as you be;

Neither shall that snowy breast,
Rolling eye, and lip of ruby

Ever rob me of my rest:
Go, go display

Thy beauty's ray

To some more-soon enamour'd swain :

Those common† wiles

Of sighs and smiles

Are all bestow'd on me in vain.

I have elsewhere vowed a duty;
Turn away thy tempting eye:
Show not me at painted beauty;
These impostures I defy :
My spirit loathes

Where gawdy clothes

And fained oaths may love obtain:
I love her so,

Whose look swears no;

That all your labours § will be vain.

Can he prize the tainted posies,
Which on every breast are worn;
That may pluck the virgin roses
From their never-touched thorn?
I can go rest

On her sweet breast

That is the pride of Cynthia's train:

Then stay thy tongue;

Thy mermaid song

Is all bestowed on me in vain.

Variations from an old copy printed by Ellis.

* Nor shall that soft. + forced.

thy.thy labour.

I others.

He's a fool that basely dallies,

Where each peasant mates with him : Shall I haunt the thronged vallies, Whilst there's noble hills to clim'? No, no, though clowns

Are scar'd with frowns,

I know the best can but disdain ;
And those I'll prove

So will thy love

Be all bestowed on me in vain.

I do scorn to vow a duty,
Where each lustful lad may woo:
Give me her whose sun-like beauty,
Buzzards dare not soar unto :
She, she it is

Affords that bliss

For which I would refuse no pain:

But such as you,

Fond fools, adieu !

You seek to captive me in vain.

Leave me then, you* Syren leave me ;
Seek no more to work me harms:
Crafty wiles cannot deceive me,

Who am proof against your charms:
You labour may

* Pain.

1 And.

At the fair, th' other day,††
As she passed by me,
She look'd another way,
And would not spy me.
I woo'd her for to dine
But could not get her,
Dick §§ had her to the Vine,
He might intreat her,
With Daniel she did dance,
On me she would not glance;
Oh! thrice unhappy chance!

Phillida flouts me.

Variations from an old copy printed by Ellis.

Yesterday.

Fair maid, be not so coy,

Do not disdain me;
I am my mother's joy,
Sweet, entertain me!

I shall have, when she dies,
All things, that's fitting;
Her poultry and her bees,
And her goose sitting;
A pair of mattress-beds,
A barrel§ full of shreds,
And yet for all these || goods,
Phillida flouts me!

I often hear'd her say,
That she lov'd posies;
In the last month of May
I gave her roses;
Cowslips and gilly-flowers,
And the sweet lily,
I got to deck the bowers

Of my dear Philly:
She did them all disdain,
And threw them back again;

Therefore, 'tis flat and plain,
Phillida flouts me.