And  Marian's  nose  looks  red  and  raw;
When  roasted  crabs  hiss  in  the  bowl —
15       Then  nightly  sings  the  staring  owl

Tu-whit!
Tu-who!  A  merry  note!
While  greasy  Joan  doth  keel  the  pot.
W.  Shakespeare


XXXVIII

That  time  of  year  thou  may'st  in  me  behold
When  yellow  leaves,  or  none,  or  few,  do  hang
Upon  those  boughs  which  shake  against  the  cold,
Bare  ruin'd  choirs,  where  late  the  sweet  birds  sang-

5  In  me  thou  see'st  the  twilight  of  such  day
As  after  sunset  fadeth  in  the  west,
Which  by  and  by  black  night  doth  take  away,
Death's  second  self,  that  seals  up  all  in  rest:
In  me  thou  see'st  the  glowing  of  such  fire,

to  That  on  the  ashes  of  his  youth  doth  lie
As  the  death  bed  whereon  it  must  expire,
Consumed  with  that  which  it  was  nourish'd  by;


74  Palgrave's  Golden  Treasury  [xxxviii

— This  thou  perceiv'st,  which  makes  thy  love  more

strong,
To  love  that  well  which  thou  must  leave  ere  long.
W.  Shakespeare


XXXIX

MEMORY

When  to  the  sessions  of  sweet  silent  thought
I  summon  up  remembrance  of  tilings  past,
I  sigh  the  lack  of  many  a  thing  I  sought,
And  with  old  woes  new  wail  my  dear  time's  waste;
5  Then  can  I  drown  an  eye,  unused  to  flow,

For  precious  friends  hid  in  death's  dateless  night,
And  weep  afresh  loves  long-since-cancell'd  woe.
And  moan  the  expense  of  many  a  vanish'd  sight.
Then  can  T  grieve  at  grievances  foregone,
10  And  heavily  from  woe  to  woe  tell  o'er
The  sad  account  of  fore-bemoaned  moan,
Which  I  new  pay  as  if  not  paid  before:

— But  if  the  while  I  think  on  thee,  dear  Friend,
All  losses  are  restored,  and  sorrows  end.
