The Nut-Brown Ale

THE nut-brown ale, the nut-brown ale,

Puts down all drink when it is stale!

The toast, the nutmeg, and the ginger

Will make a sighing man a singer.

Ale gives a buffet in the head,

  But ginger under-props the brain;

When ale would strike a strong man dead

  Then nutmeg tempers it again.

The nut-brown ale, the nut-brown ale,

Puts down all drink when it is stale!

John Marston

To Everlasting Oblivion

THOU mighty gulf, insatiate cormorant,

Deride me not, though I seem petulant

To fall into thy chops. Let others pray

Forever their fair poems flourish may.

But as for me, hungry Oblivion,

Devour me quick. Accept my orison,

My earnest prayers which do importune thee,

With gloomy shade of thy still empery*        [empire]

To veil both me and my rude poesy.

Far worthier lines in silence of thy state

Do sleep securely, free from love or hate,

From which this, living, ne'er can be exempt,

But whilst it breathes will hate and fury tempt.

Then close his eyes with thy all-dimming hand

Which not right glorious actions can withstand.

Peace, hateful tongues! I now in silence pace

Unless some hound do wake me from my place.

I with this sharp yet well-meant poesy

Will sleep secure, right free from injury

Of canker'd hate or rankest villany.

John Marston

Delicious Beauty That Doth Lie

DELICIOUS Beauty, that doth lie

Wrapped in a skin of ivory,

Lie still, lie still upon thy back,

And, Fancy, let no sweet dreams lack

To tickle her, to tickle her with pleasing thoughts.

But if thy eyes are open full,

Then deign to view an honest gull*        [fool]

That stands, that stands expecting still

When that thy casement open will;

And bless his eyes, and bless his eyes with one kind glance.

John Marston

O Love, How Strangely Sweet

O LOVE, how strangely sweet

  Are thy weak passions,

That Love and Joy should meet

  In self-same fashions!

Oh, who can tell

  The cause why this should move?

But only this:

  No reason ask of Love.

John Marston