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��GEORGE PEELE 112 A Summer Song

rHEN as the rye reach to the chin, And chopcherry, chopcherry ripe within, Strawberries swimming in the cream, And school-boys playing in the stream;

Then O, then O, then O my true love said,

Till that time come again, She could not live a maid.

7/5 A Farewell to Arms

(TO QUEEN ELIZABETH)

HIS golden locks Time hath to silver turn'd; O Time too swift, O swiftness never ceasing' His youth 'gainst time and age hath ever spurn'd,

But spurn'd in vain, youth waneth by increasing Beauty, strength, youth, are flowers but fading seen , Duty, faith, love, arc roots, and ever green.

His helmet now ehall make a hive for bees;

And, lovers' sonnets turn'd to holy psalms, A man-at-arms must now serve on his knees,

And feed on prayers, which are Age his alms. But though from court to cottage he depart, His Saint is sure of his unspotted heart.

And when he saddest sits in homely cell,

He'll teach his swains this carol for a song,

'Blest be the hearts that wish my sovereign well. Curst be the Jroulb that think her any wrong.'

Goddess, allow this aged man his right

To be your bcadbman now that was your knight.

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