Song

Shall I, wasting in despair,

Die, because a woman's fair?

Or make pale my cheeks with care

'Cause another's rosy are?

Be she fairer than the day,

Or the flow'ry meads in May;

If she be not so to me,

What care I how fair she be.

Should my heart be grieved or pined

'Cause I see a woman kind?

Or a well-disposèd nature

Joinèd with a lovely creature?

Be she meeker, kinder than

Turtle-dove or pelican:

If she be not so to me,

What care I how kind she be.

Shall a woman's virtues move

Me to perish for her love?

Or, her well-deserving known,

Make me quite forget mine own?

Be she with that goodness blest

Which may gain her name of best

If she be not such to me,

What care I how good she be.

'Cause her fortune seems too high,

Shall I play the fool and die?

Those that bear a noble mind,

Where they want or riches find,

Think what with them they would do

That without them dare to woo.

And unless that mind I see,

What care I though 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.

For, if she be not for me,

What care I for whom she be.

"Amarillis I Did Woo"

Amarillis I did woo,

And I courted Phillis too;

Daphne, for her love, I chose;

Cloris, for that damask rose

In her cheek, I held as dear;

Yea, a thousand liked well near.

And, in love with all together,

Fearèd the enjoying either;

'Cause to be of one possest,

Barred the hope of all the rest.

Pastoral Poems by Nicholas Breton, Selected Poetry by George Wither, and Pastoral Poetry by William Browne (of Tavistock) · 第 27 / 59 题