BY THOMAS CAREW.-1589-1639. [THOMAS CAREW was born in Gloucestershire, in 1589, and was educated at Oxford. He received some appointments in the household of Charles I., and devoted himself to the pleasures and frivolities of the Court, a weakness which he greatly deplored at the close of his life. He died in 1639. His poems are too often sullied by indelicacies, which were unhappily the characteristics of the age in which he lived.] THINK not, 'cause men flatt'ring say, Y' are fresh as April, sweet as May, Bright as is the morning star, In plenty hoard for time of scant. For when the storms of Time have moved When a fair lady's face is pined, And yellow spread where red once shined; When beauty, youth, and all sweets leave her, Love may return, but lovers never: Like itch of love in aged veins. O love me then, and now begin it, For time and age will work that wrack Oh, then, be wise, and whilst your season Both bud and fade, both blow and wither. TO CORINNA, TO GO A-MAYING. BY ROBERT HERRICK.— -1591. [ROBERT HERRICK, the son of a goldsmith, was born in London, in the year 1591. He studied at Cambridge, took holy orders, and obtained a living from Charles I. This he lost during the Civil Wars, and received again at the Restoration. He is believed to have lived to a good old age, though the time of his death is unknown. Herrick associated with Ben Jonson and the other social spirits of the time. His poems exhibit, in some instances, a licentiousness which he deeply regretted in his after life. His language is picturesque and beautiful, and his verses, though very irregular, are, at times, extremely melodious.] GET up, get up for shame, the blooming morn, Upon her wings presents the god unshorn. See how Aurora throws her fair Each flower has wept, and bow'd toward the east, Nay, not so much as out of bed; And sung their thankful hymns: 'tis sin, When as a thousand virgins on this day To come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and green, For jewels for your gown or hair; Besides, the childhood of the day has kept, Retires himself, or else stands still Till you come forth. Wash, dress, be brief in praying; Few beads are best, when once we go a-Maying. Come, my Corinna, come; and, coming, mark Or branch; each porch, each door, ere this, Made up of white thorn neatly interwove; Can such delights be in the street, And sin no more, as we have done, by staying, There's not a budding boy or girl, this day, |