MACAULAY, LORD MARLOWE, CHRISTOPHER MICKLE, WILLIAM JULIUS MOORE, THOMAS NAIRNE, LADY NASH, THOMAS PARKER, MARTIN PERCY, THOMAS PROCTOR, B.W. ROGERS, SAMUEL ROSS, ALEXANDER SCOTT, SIR WALTER SHAKESPEARE, WILLIAM SHELLEY, PERCY BYSSHE SHENSTONE, WILLIAM SHIRLEY, JAMES SIDNEY, SIR PHILIP SOUTHEY, ROBERT STILL, JOHN SUCKLING, SIR JOHN TENNYSON, LORD THACKERAY, WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THOMPSON, JAMES VAUX, LORD WALLER, EDMUND WEBSTER, JOHN WITHER, GEORGE WOLFE, CHARLES WORDSWORTH, WILLIAM WYATT, SIR THOMAS SONGS AND BALLADS MY SWETE SWETING AH, my swete swetyng! My lytyle prety swetyng, My swetyng will I love wherever I go; She is so proper and pure, Full stedfast, stabill and demure, There is none such, ye may be sure, As my swete swetyng. In all this world, as thynketh me, Is none so pleasant to my eye, That I am glad soe ofte to see, As my swete swetyng. When I behold my swetyng swete, Her face, her hands, her minion fete, They seme to me there is none so swete, As my swete swetyng. Above all other prayse must I, And love my pretty pygsnye, For none I fynd so womanly As my swete swetyng. _LORD VAUX_ THINKING WHEN all is done and said, In the end thus shall you find, He most of all doth bathe in bliss That hath a quiet mind: And, clear from worldly cares, To deem can be content The sweetest time in all his life In thinking to be spent. The body subject is To fickle Fortune's power, And to a million of mishaps Is casual every hour: And Death in time doth change It to a clod of clay; Whenas the mind, which is divine, Runs never to decay. Companion none is like Unto the mind alone; For many have been harmed by speech Through thinking, few, or none. Fear oftentimes restraineth words, But makes not thought to cease; And he speaks best that hath the skill When for to hold his peace. Our wealth leaves us at death; Our kinsmen at the grave; But virtues of the mind unto The heavens with us we have. Wherefore, for virtue's sake, I can be well content, The sweetest time of all my life To deem in thinking spent. _RICHARD EDWARDES_ THE FALLING OUT OF FAITHFUL FRIENDS IN going to my naked bed as one that would have slept, I heard a wife sing to her child, that long before had wept; She sighed sore, and sang full sweet, to bring the babe to rest, That would not cease, but cried still, in sucking at her breast. She was full weary of her watch, and grieved with her child; She rocked it and rated it, till that on her it smiled: Then did she say, Now have I found this proverb true to prove The falling out of faithful friends, renewing is of love.