If all 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, Time drives the flocks from field to fold, 5 When rivers rage, and rocks grow cold; Then Philomel becometh dumb, The rest complains of cares to come. The flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward winter reckoning yields; 10 A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy’s spring, but sorrow’s fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy bed of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten; 15 In folly ripe, in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw and ivy-buds, Thy coral clasps and amber studs, All these in me no means can move, To come to thee, and be thy love. 20 What should we talk of dainties then, Of better meat than’s fit for men? These are but vain: that’s only good Which God hath blessed and sent for food. But could youth last, and love still breed, 25 Had joys no date, nor age no need; Then those delights my mind might move, To live with thee, and be thy love. _Anon._ XXI _SAMELA._ Like to Diana in her summer weed, Girt with a crimson robe of brightest dye, Goes fair Samela; Whiter than be the flocks that straggling feed, When washed by Arethusa faint they lie, 5 Is fair Samela; As fair Aurora in her morning grey, Decked with the ruddy glister of her love, Is fair Samela; Like lovely Thetis on a calmèd day, 10 Whenas her brightness Neptune’s fancy move, Shines fair Samela; Her tresses gold, her eyes like glassy streams, Her teeth are pearl, the breasts are ivory Of fair Samela; 15 Her cheeks like rose and lily yield forth gleams, Her brows’ bright arches framed of ebony; Thus fair Samela Passeth fair Venus in her bravest hue, And Juno in the show of majesty, 20 For she’s Samela: Pallas in wit, all three, if you will view, For beauty, wit, and matchless dignity Yield to Samela. _Robert Greene._ XXII _SILENT MUSIC._ Rose-cheeked Laura, come! Sing thou smoothly with thy beauty’s Silent music, either other Sweetly gracing. Lovely forms do flow 5 From concent divinely framed, Heaven is music, and thy beauty’s Birth is heavenly.