FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   71   72   73   74   75   76   77   78   79   80   81   82   83   84   85   86   87   88   89   90   >>  
FRANK. Nay,--'tis a thing the gentler sex deplores Chiefly, I think.... MAY (_coming to the window_). What is this secret, then? FRANK (_mysteriously_). There are no eyes more beautiful than yours! GROWING GRAY. "_On a l'age de son coeur._"--A. d'Houdetot. A little more toward the light;-- Me miserable! Here's one that's white; And one that's turning; Adieu to song and "salad days;" My Muse, let's go at once to Jay's, And order mourning. We must reform our rhymes, my Dear,-- Renounce the gay for the severe,-- Be grave, not witty; We have, no more, the right to find That Pyrrha's hair is neatly twined,-- That Chloe's pretty. Young Love's for us a farce that's played; Light canzonet and serenade No more may tempt us; Gray hairs but ill accord with dreams; From aught but sour didactic themes Our years exempt us. Indeed! you really fancy so? You think for one white streak we grow At once satiric? A fiddlestick! Each hair's a string To which our ancient Muse shall sing A younger lyric. The heart's still sound. Shall "cakes and ale" Grow rare to youth because _we_ rail At schoolboy dishes? Perish the thought! 'Tis ours to chant When neither Time nor Tide can grant Belief with wishes. VARIA. THE MALTWORM'S MADRIGAL. I drink of the Ale of Southwark, I drink of the Ale of Chepe; At noon I dream on the settle; at night I cannot sleep; For my love, my love it groweth; I waste me all the day; And when I see sweet Alison, I know not what to say. The sparrow when he spieth his Dear upon the tree, He beateth-to his little wing; he chirketh lustily; But when I see sweet Alison, the words begin to fail; I wot that I shall die of Love--an I die not of Ale. Her lips are like the muscadel; her brows are black as ink; Her eyes are bright as beryl stones that in the tankard wink; But when she sees me coming, she shrilleth out--"Te-Hee! Fye on thy ruddy nose, Cousin, what lackest thou of me?" "Fye on thy ruddy nose, Cousin! Why be thine eyes so small? Why go thy legs tap-lappetty like men that fear to fall? Why is thy leathern doublet besmeared with stain and spot? Go to. Thou art
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   71   72   73   74   75   76   77   78   79   80   81   82   83   84   85   86   87   88   89   90   >>  



Top keywords:

Alison

 

Cousin

 
coming
 

thought

 
Perish
 

Belief

 

MALTWORM

 

wishes

 

settle

 

MADRIGAL


groweth

 
Southwark
 

lackest

 

shrilleth

 
lappetty
 
besmeared
 
doublet
 

leathern

 

tankard

 
chirketh

lustily
 

beateth

 

sparrow

 

spieth

 
bright
 
stones
 

dishes

 

muscadel

 

turning

 

miserable


severe
 

mourning

 

reform

 

rhymes

 

Renounce

 

Houdetot

 

window

 

secret

 

Chiefly

 
deplores

gentler

 
mysteriously
 
beautiful
 

GROWING

 

Pyrrha

 
string
 

ancient

 
fiddlestick
 

satiric

 
streak