Philomela’s Ode

Robert Greene (1558–1592)

That She Sung in Her Arbor

SITTING by a river’s side

Where a silent stream did glide,

Muse I did of many things

That the mind in quiet brings.

I ’gan think how some men deem

Gold their god; and some esteem

Honor is the chief content

That to man in life is lent;

And some others do contend

Quiet none like to a friend.

Others hold there is no wealth

Compared to a perfect health;

Some man’s mind in quiet stands

When he ’s lord of many lands.

But I did sigh, and said all this

Was but a shade of perfect bliss:

And in my thoughts I did approve

Naught so sweet as is true love.

Love ’twixt lovers passeth these,

When mouth kisseth and heart ’grees—

With folded arms and lips meeting,

Each soul another sweetly greeting;

For by the breath the soul fleeteth,

And soul with soul in kissing meeteth.

If love be so sweet a thing,

That such happy bliss doth bring,

Happy is love’s sugared thrall;

But unhappy maidens all

Who esteem your virgin blisses

Sweeter than a wife’s sweet kisses.

No such quiet to the mind

As true love with kisses kind;

But if a kiss prove unchaste,

Then is true love quite disgraced.

Though love be sweet, learn this of me,

No sweet love but honesty.