Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/314

 ROBERT HERRICK

No Will-o'-the-wisp mislight thee, Nor snake or slow-worm bite thee;

But on, on thy way

Not making a stay, Since ghost there 's none to affright thee.

Let not the dark thee cumber: What though the moon does slumber? The stars of the night Will lend thee their light Like tapers clear without number.

Then, Julia, let me woo thee, Thus, thus to come unto me;

And when I shall meet

Thy bilv'ry feet, My soul I'll pour into thee.

��c

��2ji To Music y to becalm his Fever

(HARM me asleep, and melt me so

With thy delicious numbers, That, being ravish 'd, hence I go Away in easy slumbers. Ease my sick head, And make my bed, Thou power that canst sever From me this ill, And quickly still, Though thou not kill

My fever.

�� �