With joys before and pleasures left behind; Shaking the head, whilst each to each doth mourn, With thought they go whence they must ne'er return. So with like looks, as once the ministrel Cast, leading his Eurydice through hell, I strike thy love, and greedily pursue Thee with mine eyes or in or out of view. So looked the Grecian orator when sent From's native country into banishment, Throwing his eyeballs backward to survey The smoke of his beloved Attica; So Tully looked when from the breasts of Rome The sad soul went, not with his love, but doom, Shooting his eyedarts 'gainst it to surprise It, or to draw the city to his eyes. Such is my parting with thee, and to prove There was not varnish only in my love, But substance, lo! receive this pearly tear Frozen with grief and place it in thine ear. Then part in name of peace, and softly on With numerous feet to hoofy Helicon; And when thou art upon that forked hill Amongst the thrice three sacred virgins, fill A full-brimm'd bowl of fury and of rage, And quaff it to the prophets of our age; When drunk with rapture curse the blind and lame, Base ballad-mongers who usurp thy name And foul thy altar; charm some into frogs, Some to be rats, and others to be hogs; Into the loathsom'st shapes thou canst devise To make fools hate them, only by disguise; Thus with a kiss of warmth and love I part Not so, but that some relic in my heart Shall stand for ever, though I do address Chiefly myself to what I must profess. Know yet, rare soul, when my diviner muse Shall want a handmaid (as she oft will use), Be ready, thou for me, to wait upon her, Though as a servant, yet a maid of honour. The crown of duty is our duty: well Doing's the fruit of doing well. Farewell. _Shoring_, copies _soaring_. A CAROL PRESENTED TO DR. WILLIAMS, BISHOP OF LINCOLN AS A NEW-YEAR'S GIFT. Fly hence, pale care, no more remember Past sorrows with the fled December, But let each pleasant cheek appear Smooth as the childhood of the year, And sing a carol here. 'Twas brave, 'twas brave, could we command the hand Of youth's swift watch to stand As you have done your day; Then should we not decay. But all we wither, and our light Is spilt in everlasting night, Whenas your sight Shows like the heavens above the moon, Like an eternal noon That sees no setting sun.