Yonder lies the snow, But my heart cannot melt it: And my poor heart hath felt it. 0 I'LL NEVER LOVE MORE. STAY, O turn, O pity me That sighs, that sues for love of thee! O lack! I never loved before; If you deny, I'll never love more. No hope, no help! then wretched I AIR Apollo, whose bright beams FAIR Cheer all the world below: The birds that sing, the plants that spring, O, lend thy aid to a swain sore oppressed, Soon may find The delight that sense admits! And by a maid let his harms be redressed, Do remain In his mind to offend his wits! SAMUEL ROWLEY. [ONE of the players in the establishment of the Prince of Wales, and included in the list of Henslowe's authors. His principal pieces are the play from which the following song is taken, and a comedy called When you see me you know me. He also assisted other writers in some of the Moral Plays.] THE NOBLE SPANISH SOLDIER. SORROW. 1634. OH, sorrow, sorrow, say where dost thou dwell? In the lowest room of hell. Art thou born of human race? Oh, why into the world is sorrow sent? Men afflicted best repent. What dost thou feed on? What takest thou pleasure in? To weep, To sigh, to sob, to pine, to groan, Oh when, oh when shall sorrow quiet have? [THOMAS GOFFE was born in Essex, about 1592, and educated at Westminster. In 1609 he entered Christ Church, Oxford, and having had the degree of bachelor of divinity conferred upon him, was preferred to the living of East Clandon, in Surrey, in 1623. He is said to have been a professed woman-hater, yet, notwithstanding, married the wife of his predecessor, who revenged the wrongs of the whole sex upon him by the violence of her temper, and finally, it is supposed, shortened his life. He died in 1627. He was the author of four dramas, and is believed in the latter part of his life to have embraced the church of Rome.] THE DRAMATISTS. 13 ORESTE S. 1633. NURSE'S SONG. LULLABY, lullaby, baby, The King of Greece thou art born to be, Rest ever wait upon thy head, Sleep close thine eyes, The blessed guard tend on thy bed O, how this brow.will beseem a crown! Like the rays of the sun on the ground, The nurse of heaven will send thee milk ; Mayst thou suck a Queen. Thy drink love's nectar, and clothes of silk; A god mayst thou seem. Cupid sit on this rosean cheek, On these ruby lips. May thy mind like a lamb be meek, Lullaby, lullaby, baby, &c. But one that's mad. See, Argos, hast not thou Sleep, sleep, wild brain, To grieve for thy offence. Weep, weep, you Argonauts! THE CARELESS SHEPHERDESS. 1656. THE FOLLY OF LOVE. NOW fie on love, it ill befits, Or man and woman know it, Love was not meant for people in their wits, Betray their too much feathered brains, To love is to distract my sleep, And waking to wear fetters; To love is but to go to school to weep; I'll leave it for my betters. If single love be such a curse, To marry is to make it ten times worse. BLINI THE TYRANNY OF CUPID. LIND Cupid lay aside thy bow, For love, thou tyranny dost show, Thou wert called a pretty boy, Art thought a skeleton, For thou like death dost still destroy, |