Blood must be my body's balmer;

No other balm will there be given; Whilst my soul, like a quiet palmer,

Traveleth towards the land of heaven, Over the silver mountains,

Where spring the nectar fountains.
There will I kiss

The bowl of bliss;

And drink mine everlasting fill
Upon every milken hill.

My soul will be a-dry before;
But, after, it will thirst no more.

Then by that happy blissful day

More peaceful pilgrims I shall see, That have cast off their rags of clay, And walk appareled fresh like me. I'll take them first,

To quench their thirst

And taste of nectar suckets,

At those clear wells

Where sweetness dwells,

Drawn up by saints in crystal buckets.

And when our bottles and all we Are filled with immortality, Then the blessed paths we 'll travel, Strowed with rubies thick as gravel; Ceilings of diamonds, sapphire floors, High walls of coral, and pearly bowers.

From thence to heaven's bribeless hall, Where no corruptèd voices brawl; No conscience molten into gold; No forged accuser bought or sold; No cause deferred, no vain-spent journey, For there Christ is the King's attorney, Who pleads for all, without degrees, And he hath angels but no fees.

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And when the grand twelve million jury Of our sins, with direful fury, Against our souls black verdicts give, Christ pleads his death; and then we live.

PARIS.

CEN.

The fairest shepherd on our green,

A love for any lady.

Fair and fair, and twice so fair, 5
As fair as any may be;

Thy love is fair for thee alone,
And for no other lady.

My love is fair, my love is gay,

As fresh as bin the flowers in

PHILOMELA'S ODE

FROM PHILOMELA

Sitting by a river's side,
Where a silent stream did glide,
Muse I did of many things
That the mind in quiet brings.
I gan think how some men deem
Gold their god; and some esteem
Honor is the chief content
That to man in life is lent.
And some others do contend,
Quiet none like to a friend.
Others hold there is no wealth
Compared to a perfect health.
Some man's mind in quiet stands,
When he is lord of many lands.
But I did sigh, and said all this
Was but a shade of perfect bliss;
And in my thoughts I did approve,
Naught so sweet as is true love.
Love 'twixt lovers passeth these,
When mouth kisseth and heart 'grees,
With folded arms and lips meeting,
Each soul another sweetly greeting;
For by the breath the soul fleeteth,
And soul with soul in kissing meeteth.
If love be so sweet a thing,
That such happy bliss doth bring,
Happy is love's sugared thrall,
But unhappy maidens all,

Who esteem your virgin blisses
Sweeter than a wife's sweet kisses.

No such quiet to the mind

As true love with kisses kind;
But if a kiss prove unchaste,

Then is true love quite disgraced.
Though love be sweet, learn this of me
No sweet love but honesty.

SONG FROM MENAPHON

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Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee, When thou art old there's grief enough for

thee.

A mind content both crown and kingdom

is.

Thou canst not die, whilst any zeal abound In feeling hearts, that can conceive these lines:

Though thou, a Laura, hast no Petrarch found;

In base attire, yet, clearly, Beauty shines. And I, though born within a colder clime, Do feel mine inward heat as great, I know it.

He never had more faith, although more rime:

I love as well, though he could better show it.

But I may add one feather to thy fame,
To help her flight throughout the fairest
Isle;

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