No More Learning

Give way, give way to me, who come
Scorch'd with the self-same martyrdom:
And have deserv'd as much (love knows)
As to be canonis'd 'mongst those
Whose deeds and deaths here written are
Within your greeny calendar:
By all those virgins' fillets hung
Upon your boughs, and requiems sung
For saints and souls departed hence
(Here honour'd still with frankincense);
By all those tears that have been shed,
As a drink-offering to the dead;
By all those true love-knots that be
With mottoes carv'd on every tree;
By sweet Saint Phyllis pity me:
By dear Saint Iphis, and the rest
Of all those other saints now blest,
Me, me, forsaken, here admit
Among your myrtles to be writ:
That my poor name may have the glory
To live remembered in your story.

_Phyllis_, the Thracian princess who hanged herself for love of
Demophoon.
_Iphis_, a Cyprian youth who hanged himself for love of Anaxaretes.


450. AN EPITAPH UPON A VIRGIN.

Here a solemn fast we keep,
While all beauty lies asleep
Hush'd be all things--no noise here--
But the toning of a tear:
Or a sigh of such as bring
Cowslips for her covering.


451. TO THE RIGHT GRACIOUS PRINCE, LODOWICK, DUKE OF RICHMOND AND
LENNOX.

Of all those three brave brothers fall'n i' th' war
(Not without glory), noble sir, you are,
Despite of all concussions, left the stem
To shoot forth generations like to them.
Which may be done, if, sir, you can beget
Men in their substance, not in counterfeit,
Such essences as those three brothers; known
Eternal by their own production.
Of whom, from fame's white trumpet, this I'll tell,
Worthy their everlasting chronicle:
Never since first Bellona us'd a shield,
_Such three brave brothers fell in Mars his field_.
These were those three Horatii Rome did boast,
Rome's were these three Horatii we have lost.
One Coeur-de-Lion had that age long since;
This, three; which three, you make up four, brave prince.


452. TO JEALOUSY.
O jealousy, that art
The canker of the heart;
And mak'st all hell
Where thou do'st dwell;
For pity be
No fury, or no firebrand to me.

Far from me I'll remove
All thoughts of irksome love:
And turn to snow,
Or crystal grow,
To keep still free,
O! soul-tormenting jealousy, from thee.


453. TO LIVE FREELY.

Let's live in haste; use pleasures while we may;
Could life return, 'twould never lose a day.


455. HIS ALMS.

Here, here I live,
And somewhat give
Of what I have
To those who crave,
Little or much,
My alms is such;
But if my deal
Of oil and meal
Shall fuller grow,
More I'll bestow;
Meantime be it
E'en but a bit,
Or else a crumb,
The scrip hath some.

_Deal_, portion.


456. UPON HIMSELF.

Come, leave this loathed country life, and then
Grow up to be a Roman citizen.
Those mites of time, which yet remain unspent,
Waste thou in that most civil government.
Get their comportment and the gliding tongue
Of those mild men thou art to live among;
Then, being seated in that smoother sphere,
Decree thy everlasting topic there;
And to the farm-house ne'er return at all:
Though granges do not love thee, cities shall.


457.