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His tears run down his beard, like winter's drops
From eaves of reeds.
One of those odd tricks, which sorrow shoots
We scarce thought us bless'd,
That God hath sent us but this only child:
There's something in his soul,
O'er which his melancholy sits on brood;
Will be some danger.
Gracious words revive my drooping thoughts, And give my tongue-tied sorrows leave to speak.
Do not seek to take your change upon you,
I have this while with leaden thoughts been press'd ;/ But I shall, in a more continuate time,
Strike off this score of absence.
Mourn I not for thee,
And with the southern clouds contend in tears;
Their's for the earth's increase, mine for my sorrows?
Play me that sad note
I named my knell, whilst I sit meditating
On that celestial harmony I go to.
The shadow of my sorrow? Ha! let's see:-
Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds;
For when his headstrong riot hath no curb,
His grief grew puissant, and the strings of life
The tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood from her cheek.
Your loss is as yourself, great; and you bear it
By the rebound of yours, a grief that shoots
I pray thee, cease thy counsel,
Which falls into mine ears as profitless
As water in a sieve: give not me counsel;
But such a one, whose wrongs do suit with mine.
* His passion; his inordinate desires.
Bring me a father, that so loved his child,
Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine,
If such a one will smile, and stroke his beard;
But there is no such man.
Being not mad, but sensible of grief,
My reasonable part produces reason
How I may be deliver'd of these "woes.
Ah, my tender babes!
My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets!
If yet your gentle souls fly in the air-
Sorrow and grief of heart
Makes him speak fondly, like a frantic man.
pray thee leave me to myself to-night;
For I have need of many orisons
To move the heavens to smile upon my state, Which, well thou know'st, is cross and full of sin. 35-iv. 3.
* Candle-wasters is a contemptuous term for scholars, and is so used by Ben Johnson, Cynthia's Revels, act iii. sc. 3. The sense then of the passage appears to be this:--If such a one will patch grief with proverbs--ease the wounds of grief with proverbial say: ings; make misfortune drunk with candle-wasters--stupify misfor tune, or render himself insensible to the strokes of it, by the conversation or lucubrations of scholars; the production of the lamp, but not fitted to human nature.
With the eyes of heavy mind,
I see thy glory, like a shooting star,
Why does my blood thus muster to my heart,
And dispossessing all the other parts
Of necessary fitness?
So play the foolish throngs with one that swoons;
By which he should revive: and even so
The general, subject to a well-wish'd king,
Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts,
-And thou art wedded to calamity.
Had it pleased Heaven
To try me with affliction; had he rain'd
All kinds of sores, and shames, on my bare head;
Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes;
Yet could I bear that too; well, very well:
Or keep it as a cistern, for foul toads
To knot and gender in!—turn thy complexion there!
Be witness to me, O thou blessed moon,
O sovereign mistress of true melancholy,
The poisonous damp of night disponge* upon me;
May hang no longer on me.
Bind up those tresses: O, what love I note
Where but by chance a silver drop hath fallen,
We are fellows still, Serving alike in sorrow: Leak'd is our bark; And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck, Hearing the surges threat: we must all part Into this sea of air.
What is in thy mind,
That makes thee stare thus? Wherefore breaks that
From the inward of thee? One, but painted thus,
Who had the world as my confectionary,
Discharge as a sponge when squeezed discharges the moisture
it had imbibed.