WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

(1564-1616.)

There are several convenient modern reprints of Shakespeare's Songs and Sonnets, including Prof. Dowden's, Prof. Palgrave's, and the edition by Mr. William Sharp in the Canterbury Poets. About the sonnets a voluminous literature has grown up. They appeared in 1609. It is conjectured they were written about 1598.

From Love's Labour's Lost, Act v. Sc. 2.

WHEN icicles hang by the wall,

And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
And Tom bears logs into the hall,

And milk comes frozen home in pail,
When blood is nipped and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whit;

Tu-who, a merry note,

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

When all aloud the wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parson's saw,
And birds sit brooding in the snow,

And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whit;

Tu-who, a merry note,

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

From Midsummer Night's Dream, Act ii. Sc. 1.

VER hill, over dale,

OVER

Thorough bush, thorough brier,

Over park, over pale,

Thorough flood, thorough fire,

I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moonës sphere;
And I serve the fairy queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green.
The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
In their gold coats spots you see;
Those be rubies, fairy favours,
In those freckles live their savours:
I must go seek some dewdrops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.

From Midsummer Night's Dream, Act ii. Sc. 2.

First Fairy. YOU spotted snakes with double tongue,

Chorus.

Thorny hedge-hogs, be not seen;

Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong;
Come not near our fairy queen.
Philomel, with melody,

Sing in our sweet lullaby;

Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby;
Never harm,

Nor spell, nor charm,

Come our lovely lady nigh;

So, good night, with lullaby.

First Fairy. Weaving spiders, come not here:

Chorus.

Hence, you long-legged spinners, hence!
Beetles black, approach not near;

Worm, nor snail, do no offence.
Philomel, with melody, &c.

From The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act iv. Sc. I.

WHO is Silvia? what is she,

That all our swains commend her?

Holy, fair, and wise is she;

The heaven such grace did lend her, That she might admired be.

Is she kind as she is fair?

For beauty lives with kindness. Love doth to her eyes repair,

To help him of his blindness, And, being helped, inhabits there.

Then to Silvia let us sing,
That Silvia is excelling;
She excels each mortal thing
Upon the dull earth dwelling:

To her let us garlands bring.

From The Merchant of Venice, Act iii. Sc. 2.

TELL me where is fancy bred,

Or in the heart, or in the head?
How begot, how nourished?
Reply, reply.

It is engendered in the eyes,
With gazing fed; and fancy dies
In the cradle where it lies:
Let us all ring fancy's knell;
I'll begin it,-Ding-dong, bell.
Ding, dong, bell.

From As You Like It, Act ii. Sc. 5.

UNDER the greenwood tree

Who loves to lie with me

And turn his merry note
Unto the sweet bird's throat,

Come hither, come hither, come hither:

Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

Who doth ambition shun
And loves to live i' the sun,
Seeking the food he eats,

And pleased with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

From As You Like It, Act ii. Sc. 7.

BLOW, blow, thou winter wind,

Thou art not so unkind

As man's ingratitude;

Thy tooth is not so keen,

Because thou art not seen,

Although thy breath be rude.

Heigh ho! sing, heigh ho! unto the green holly: Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: Then, heigh ho, the holly!

This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,

That dost not bite so nigh

As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp

As friend remembered noc.

Heigh ho! sing, heigh ho! &c.

0

From Much Ado about Nothing, Act ii. Sc. 3.

SIGH

no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever,

One foot in sea and one on shore,

To one thing constant never:
Then sigh not so, but let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into Hey nonny, nonny.

Sing no more ditties, sing no moe,
Of dumps so dull and heavy;
The fraud of men was ever so,
Since summer first was leafy:
Then sigh not so, but let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into Hey nonny, nonny.

From Twelfth Night, Act ii. Sc. 3.

MISTRESS mine, where are you roaming?

O, stay and hear; your true love's coming, That can sing both high and low: Trip no further, pretty sweeting; Journeys end in lovers' meeting

Every wise man's son doth know.

What is love? 't is not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What's to come is still unsure:

In delay there lies no plenty;
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty,
Youth's a stuff will not endure.