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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1546 ***
+
+
+
+
+SONNETS TO SUNDRY NOTES OF MUSIC
+
+by William Shakespeare
+
+
+
+
+I.
+
+It was a lording's daughter, the fairest one of three,
+That liked of her master as well as well might be.
+Till looking on an Englishman, the fair'st that eye could see,
+  Her fancy fell a-turning.
+Long was the combat doubtful, that love with love did fight,
+To leave the master loveless, or kill the gallant knight;
+To put in practice either, alas, it was a spite
+  Unto the silly damsel!
+But one must be refused, more mickle was the pain,
+That nothing could be used, to turn them both to gain,
+For of the two the trusty knight was wounded with disdain:
+  Alas, she could not help it!
+Thus art, with arms contending, was victor of the day,
+Which by a gift of learnlng did bear the maid away;
+Then, lullaby, the learned man hath got the lady gay;
+  For now my song is ended.
+
+
+II.
+
+On a day (alack the day!)
+Love, whose month was ever May,
+Spied a blossom passing fair,
+Playing in the wanton air:
+Through the velvet leaves the wind,
+All unseen, 'gan passage find;
+That the lover, sick to death,
+Wish'd himself the heaven's breath.
+Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow;
+Air, would I might triumph so!
+But, alas! my hand hath sworn
+Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn:
+Vow, alack, for youth unmeet,
+Youth, so apt to pluck a sweet,
+Thou for whom Jove would swear
+Juno but an Ethiope were;
+And deny himself for Jove,
+Turning mortal for thy love.
+
+
+III.
+
+My flocks feed not,
+My ewes breed not,
+My rams speed not,
+  All is amiss:
+Love is dying,
+Faith's defying,
+Heart's denying,
+  Causer of this.
+All my merry jigs are quite forgot,
+All my lady's love is lost, God wot:
+Where her faith was firmly fix'd in love,
+There a nay is plac'd without remove.
+One silly cross
+Wrought all my loss;
+  O frowning Fortune, cursed, fickle dame!
+For now I see,
+Inconstancy
+  More in women than in men remain.
+
+In black mourn I,
+All fears scorn I,
+Love bath forlorn me,
+  Living in thrall:
+Heart is bleeding,
+All help needing,
+(O cruel speeding!)
+  Fraughted with gall.
+My shepherd's pipe can sound no deal,
+My wether's bell rings doleful knell;
+My curtail dog, that wont to have play'd,
+Plays not at all, but seems afraid;
+With sighs so deep,
+Procures to weep,
+  In howling-wise, to see my doleful plight.
+How sighs resound
+Through heartless ground,
+  Like a thousand vanquish'd men in bloody fight!
+
+Clear wells spring not,
+Sweet birds sing  not,
+Green plants bring not
+  Forth; they die;
+Herds stand weeping,
+Flocks all sleeping,
+Nymphs back peeping
+  Fearfully.
+All our pleasure known to us poor swains,
+All our merry meetings on the plains,
+All our evening sport from us is fled,
+All our love is lost, for Love is dead.
+Farewell, sweet lass,
+Thy like ne'er was
+  For a sweet content, the cause of all my moan:
+Poor Coridon
+Must live alone,
+Other help for him I see that there is none.
+
+
+IV.
+
+When as thine eye hath chose the dame,
+And stall'd the deer that thou shouldst strike,
+Let reason rule things worthy blame,
+As well as fancy partial might:
+  Take counsel of some wiser head,
+  Neither too young, nor yet unwed.
+
+And when thou com'st thy tale to tell,
+Smooth not thy tongue with filed talk,
+Lest she some subtle practice smell,
+(A cripple soon can find a halt:)
+  But plainly say thou lov'st her well,
+  And set thy person forth to sell.
+
+What though her frowning brows be bent,
+Her cloudy looks will calm ere night;
+And then too late she will repent,
+That thus dissembled her delight;
+  And twice desire, ere it be day,
+  That which with scorn she put away.
+
+What though she strive to try her strength,
+And ban and brawl, and say thee nay,
+Her feeble force will yield at length,
+When craft hath taught her thus to say:
+ 'Had women been so strong as men,
+ In faith, you had not had it then.'
+
+And to her will frame all thy ways;
+Spare not to spend,--and chiefly there
+Where thy desert may merit praise,
+By ringing in thy lady's ear:
+  The strongest castle, tower, and town,
+  The golden bullet beats it down.
+
+Serve always with assured trust,
+And in thy suit be humble, true;
+Unless thy lady prove unjust,
+Press never thou to choose anew:
+  When time shall serve, be thou not slack
+  To proffer, though she put thee back.
+
+The wiles and guiles that women work,
+Dissembled with an outward show,
+The tricks and toys that in them lurk,
+The cock that treads them shall not know.
+  Have you not heard it said full oft,
+  A woman's nay doth stand for naught?
+
+Think women still to strive with men,
+To sin, and never for to saint:
+There is no heaven, by holy then,
+When time with age doth them attaint.
+  Were kisses all the joys in bed,
+  One woman would another wed.
+
+But, soft! enough,--too much, I fear;
+Lest that my mistress hear my song;
+She'll not stick to round me i' the ear,
+To teach my tongue to be so long:
+  Yet will she blush, here be it said,
+  To hear her secrets so bewray'd.
+
+
+V.
+
+Live with me, and be my love,
+And we will all the pleasures prove,
+That hills and valleys, dales and fields,
+And all the craggy mountains yields.
+
+There will we sit upon the rocks,
+And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
+By shallow rivers, by whose falls
+Melodious birds sing madrigals.
+
+There will I make thee a bed of roses,
+With a thousand fragrant posies,
+A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
+Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle.
+
+A belt of straw and ivy buds,
+With coral clasps and amber studs;
+And if these pleasures may thee move,
+Then live with me and be my love.
+
+     LOVE'S ANSWER.
+
+If that the world and love were young,
+And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
+These pretty pleasures might me move
+To live with thee and be thy love.
+
+
+VI.
+
+As it fell upon a day
+In the merry month of May,
+Sitting in a pleasant shade
+Which a grove of myrtles made,
+Beasts did leap, and birds did sing,
+Trees did grow, and plants did spring;
+Everything did banish moan,
+Save the nightingale alone:
+She, poor bird, as all forlorn,
+Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn,
+And there sung the dolefull'st ditty,
+That to hear it was great pity:
+Fie, fie, fie, now would she cry;
+Teru, teru, by and by:
+That to hear her so complain,
+Scarce I could from tears refrain;
+For her griefs, so lively shown,
+Made me think upon mine own.
+Ah, thought I, thou mourn'st in vain;
+None take pity on thy pain:
+Senseless trees, they cannot hear thee;
+Ruthless bears, they will not cheer thee.
+King Pandion, he is dead;
+All thy friends are lapp'd in lead;
+All thy fellow-birds do sing,
+Careless of thy sorrowing.
+Even so, poor bird, like thee,
+None alive will pity me.
+Whilst as fickle fortune smil'd,
+Thou and I were both beguil'd.
+Every one that flatters thee
+Is no friend in misery.
+Words are easy like the wind;
+Faithful friends are hard to find.
+Every man will be thy friend,
+Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend;
+But if store of crowns be scant,
+No man will supply thy want.
+If that one be prodigal,
+Bountiful they will him call:
+And with such-like flattering,
+'Pity but he were a king.'
+If he be addict to vice,
+Quickly him they will entice;
+If to women he be bent,
+They have at commandement:
+But if fortune once do frown,
+Then farewell his great renown:
+They that fawn'd on him before,
+Use his company no more.
+He that is thy frend indeed,
+He will help thee in thy need;
+If thou sorrow, he will weep;
+If thou wake, he cannot sleep:
+Thus of every grief in heart
+He with thee doth bear a part.
+These are certain signs to know
+Faithful friend from flattering foe.
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1546 ***