ful. By whose direction found'st thou out this

place?

Rom. By love, who first did prompt me to

inquire;

He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes.

I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far

As that vast shore washed with the farthest sea,

I would adventure for such merchandise.

Jul. Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face,

Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek
For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night.
Fain would I dwell on form; fain, fain deny
What I have spoke - but farewell compliment!
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say — Ay:~
And I will take thy word. Yet, if thou swear'st,
Thou may'st prove false: at lovers' perjuries,
They say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo!
If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully;
Or, if thou think'st I am too quickly won,
I'll frown and be perverse, and say thee nay,
So thou wilt woo: but, else, not for the world.
In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,
And therefore thou may'st think my 'havior light;
But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
I should have been more strange, I must confess,
But that thou overheard'st, ere I was 'ware,
My true love's passion; therefore pardon me,
And not impute this yielding to light love,
Which the dark night hath so discovered.

Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear, That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops

Jul. O swear not by the moon, the inconstant

moon,

That monthly changes in her circled orb:
Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.
Rom. What shall I swear by?

Jul. Do not swear at all;

Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,
Which is the god of my idolatry,

And I'll believe thee.

Rom. If my heart's dear love —

Jul. Well, do not swear! Although I joy in thee,

I have no joy of this contract to-night;

It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden,

Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be
'Ere one can say — It lightens. Sweet, good-night!
This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
Good-night, good-night! - as sweet repose and rest
Come to thy heart, as that within my breast!
Rom. Oh, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
Jul. What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?
Rom. The exchange of thy love's faithful vow
for mine.

Ful. I gave thee mine, before thou didst request

it:

And yet I would it were to give again.

Rom. Would'st thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love?

Jul. But to be frank, and give it thee again.
And yet I wish but for the thing I have:
My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have; for both are infinite.

I hear some noise within. Dear love, adieu!

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

TO CELIA.

DRINK to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And I'll not ask for wine.

The thirst, that from the soul doth rise,
Doth ask a drink divine;

But might I of Jove's nectar sip,
I would not change for thine.

I sent thee, late, a rosy wreath,
Not so much honoring thee,
As giving it a hope that there

It could not withered be.

But thou thereon didst only breathe

And sent'st it back to me;

Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,
Not of itself, but thee.

BEN JONSON.

WHY SO WAN AND PALE?

WHY SO pale and wan, fond lover?
Prithee, why so pale?

Will, when looking well can't move her,
Looking ill prevail?

Prithee, why so pale?

Why so dull and mute, young

Prithee, why so mute?

sinner?

Will, when speaking well can't win her,

Saying nothing do't?

Prithee, why so mute?

Quit, quit for shame; this will not move:

This cannot take her;

If of herself she will not love

Nothing can make her;

The devil take her.

SIR JOHN SUCKLING.

À MA FUTURE.

WHERE waitest thou,

Lady I am to love? Thou comest not,
Thou knowest of my sad and lonely lot
I looked for thee ere now.

It is the May,

And each sweet sister soul hath found its brother; Only we two seek fondly each the other,

And, seeking, still delay.

Where art thou, sweet?

I long for thee as thirsty lips for streams;
Oh, gentle promised angel of my dreams,
Why do we never meet?

Thy soul doth wait for mine, as mine for thee:
We cannot live apart — must meeting be
Never before we die?

Dear soul, not so!

For time doth keep for us some happy years,
And God hath portioned us our smiles and tears ;
Thou knowest, and I know.

Yes, we shall meet;

And therefore let our searching be the stronger;
Dark ways of life shall not divide us longer,
Nor doubt, nor danger, sweet.

Therefore I bear

This winter-tide as bravely as I may,
Patiently waiting for the bright spring day
That cometh with thee, dear.

'Tis the May light

That crimsons all the quiet college gloom;
May it shine softly in thy sleeping-room

And so, dear wife, good-night!

EDWIN ARNOLD.