Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/192

 SAMUEL DANIEL

Siren. Ulysses, O be not deceived

With that unreal name; This honour is a thing conceived.

And rests on others' fame: Begotten only to molest

Our peace, and to beguile The best thing of our life our rest,

And give us up to toil.

Ulysses. Delicious Nymph, suppose there were

No honour nor report, Yet manliness would scorn to wear

The time in idle sport. For toil doth give a better touch

To make us feel our joy, And ease finds tediousncbb as much

As labour yields annoy.

Siren. Then pleasure likewise seems the shore

Whereto tends all your toil, Which you forgo to make it more,

And perish oft the while. Who may disport them diversely

Find never tedious day, And ease may have variety

As well as action may.

Ulysses. But natures of the noblest frame

These toils and dangers please; And they take comfort in the same

As much as you in ease;

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