< Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu
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SIR WALTER RALEIGH

76. H

YV7RONG not, sweet empress of my heart.

    • The merit of true passion,

With thinking that he feels no smart, That sues for no compassion.

Silence in love bewrays more woe Than words, though ne'er so witty :

A beggar that is dumb, you know, May challenge double pity.

Then wrong not, dearest to my heart, My true, though secret passion ;

He smarteth most that hides his smart, And sues for no compassion.

77. His "Pilgrimage

��IVE me my scallop-shell of quiet,

My staff of faith to walk upon, My scrip of joy, immortal diet,

My bottle of salvation, My gown of glory, hope's true gage ; And thus I'll take my pilgrimage.

Blood must be my body's balmer;

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

Travelleth towards the land of heaven ; Over the silver mountains, Where spring the nectar fountains; There. will I kiss The bowl of bliss ;

�� �

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