George Wither. 1588-1667

Shall I, wasting in despair,
Die because a woman's fair?
Or make pale my cheeks with care,
'Cause another's rosy are?
Be she fairer than the day,
Or the flowery meads in May,
If she be not so to me,
What care I how fair she be?[199:3]

The Shepherd's Resolution.

Jack shall pipe and Gill shall dance.

Poem on Christmas.

Hang sorrow! care will kill a cat,[199:4]

And therefore let 's be merry.

Poem on Christmas.

Though I am young, I scorn to flit

On the wings of borrowed wit.

The Shepherd's Hunting.

And I oft have heard defended,—

Little said is soonest mended.

The Shepherd's Hunting.

And he that gives us in these days

New Lords may give us new laws.

Contented Man's Morrice.