Where, whenas death shall all the world subdue,

MICHAEL DRAYTON (1563-1631)

SINCE THERE'S NO HELP

Since there's no help, come, let us kiss and part!

me;

And I am glad, yea, glad, with all my heart,

That thus so cleanly I myself can free. Shake hands for ever, cancel all our

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer's lease hath all too short a date;

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

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And often is his gold complexion dimmed; And every fair from fair sometime de

clines,

By chance or nature's changing course untrimmed;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou

ow'st;2

ΙΟ

Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:

Kissing with golden face the meadows green,

chemy,

That time of year thou mayst in me behold

When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,

Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

In me thou see'st the twilight of such day 5
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth take
away,

rest.

I cannot eat but little meat,
My stomach is not good;

But sure I think that I can drink
With him that wears a hood.
Though I go bare, take ye no care,

I am nothing a-cold;

I stuff my skin so full within
Of jolly good ale and old.
Back and side, etc.

I love no roast but a nutbrown toast,
And a crab1 laid in the fire;

A little bread shall do me stead,
Much bread I not desire.

No frost nor snow, no wind, I trow,
Can hurt me if it would,

I am so wrapt and throughly lapt
Of jolly good ale and old.
Back and side, etc.

And Tib my wife, that as her life

Loveth well good ale to seek, Full oft drinks she, till ye may see

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ΙΟ

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MY MIND TO ME A KINGDOM IS

My mind to me a kingdom is,

Such present joys therein I find That it excels all other bliss

That earth affords or grows by kind: Though much I want which most would have,

Yet still my mind forbids to crave.

No princely pomp, no wealthy store,
No force to win the victory,

No wily wit to salve a sore,

No shape to feed a loving eye;

To none of these I yield as thrall:
For why? My mind doth serve for all.

I see how plenty [surfeits] oft,

And hasty climbers soon do fall;

I see that those which are aloft

Mishap doth threaten most of all; They get with toil, they keep with fear: Such cares my mind could never bear. Content to live, this is my stay;

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ΙΟ

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I seek no more than may suffice; I press to bear no haughty sway; Look, what I lack my mind supplies: Lo, thus I triumph like a king, Content with that my mind doth bring. Some have too much, yet still do crave;25 I little have, and seek no more.

They are but poor, though much they have,

And I am rich with little store: They poor, I rich; they beg, I give; They lack, I leave; they pine, I live.

1 emptied.

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I laugh not at another's loss;

I grudge not at another's pain;
No worldly waves my mind can toss;
My state at one doth still remain:
I fear no foe, I fawn no friend;
I loathe not life, nor dread my end.

Some weigh their pleasure by their lust,
Their wisdom by their rage of will;
Their treasure is their only trust;
A cloaked craft their store of skill:
But all the pleasure that I find
Is to maintain a quiet mind.

My wealth is health and perfect ease;
My conscience clear my chief defence;
I neither seek by bribes to please,

Nor by deceit to breed offence: Thus do I live; thus will I die; Would all did so as well as I!

SIR PHILIP SIDNEY (1554–1586)

LOVE IS DEAD

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