You may train the eagle
To stoop to your fist;
Or you may inveigle
The Phoenix of the East;
The lioness, you may move her
To give o'er her prey;
But you will ne'er stop a lover—
He will find out his way.
—Unknown
To Daffodils
Fair daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon;
As yet the early-rising sun
Has not attained his noon.
Stay, stay,
Until the lasting day
Has run
But to the evensong
And, having prayed together, we
Will go with you along.
—Robert Herrick
Phillida Flouts Me
Oh, what a plague is love!
I cannot bear it.
She will inconstant prove,
I greatly fear it;
It so torments my mind,
That my heart faileth.
She wavers with the wind,
As a ship saileth;
Please her the best I may,
She looks another way;
Alack and well a-day!
Phillida flouts me.
I often heard her say
That she loved posies;
In the last month of May
I gave her roses,
Cowslips and gilly flow'rs
And the sweet lily,
I got to deck the bow'rs
Of my dear Philly;
She did them all disdain,
And threw them back again;
Therefore, 'tis flat and plain
Phillida flouts me.
Which way, soe'er I go.
She still torments me;
And whatso'er I do,
Nothing contents me:
I fade, and pine away
With grief and sorrow;
I fall quite to decay,
Like any shadow;
Since 'twill no better be,
I'll bear it patiently;
Yet all the world may see
Phillida flouts me.
—Thomas Carew