William Browne

The Sirens' Song

STEER, hither steer your winged pines, All beaten mariners! Here lie Love’s undiscover’d mines, A prey to passengers Perfumes far sweeter than the best Which make the Phoenix’ urn and nest. Fear not your

A Welcome

WELCOME, welcome! do I sing, Far more welcome than the spring; He that parteth from you never Shall enjoy a spring for ever. He that to the voice is near Breaking from your iv’ry

Song

FOR her gait, if she be walking; Be she sitting, I desire her For her state’s sake; and admire her For her wit if she be talking; Gait and state and wit approve her;

The Rose

A ROSE, as fair as ever saw the North, Grew in a little garden all alone; A sweeter flower did Nature ne’er put forth, Nor fairer garden yet was never known: The maidens danced

Memory

SO shuts the marigold her leaves At the departure of the sun; So from the honeysuckle sheaves The bee goes when the day is done; So sits the turtle when she is but one,

Britannia's Pastorals

Now as an angler melancholy standing Upon a green bank yielding room for landing, A wriggling yellow worm thrust on his hook, Now in the midst he throws, then in a nook: Here pulls