ANONYMOUS

Sorrow was there made fair, And Passion wise; Tears a delightful thing; Silence beyond all speech, a wisdom rare:

She made her sighs to sing, And all things with so sweet a sadness move As made my heart at once both grieve and love.

O fairer than aught else

The world can show, leave off in time to grieve ! Enough, enough : your joyful look excels :

Tears kill the heart, believe. O strive not to be excellent in woe, Which only breeds your beauty's overthrow.

��67. Sister^ Awake!

Thomas Bateson's First Set of

ISTER, awake ! close not your eyes !

The day her light discloses, And the bright morning doth arise Out of her bed of roses.

See the clear sun, the world's bright eye,

In at our window peeping : Lo, how he blusheth to espy

Us idle wenches sleeping !

Therefore awake ! make haste, I say,

And let us, without staying, All in our gowns of green so gay

Into the Park a-maying !

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