SAMUEL DANIEL
Siren. Ulysses, O be not deceived
With that unreal name; This honour is a thing conceived.
And rests on others' fame: Begotten only to molest
Our peace, and to beguile The best thing of our life our rest,
And give us up to toil.
Ulysses. Delicious Nymph, suppose there were
No honour nor report, Yet manliness would scorn to wear
The time in idle sport. For toil doth give a better touch
To make us feel our joy, And ease finds tediousncbb as much
As labour yields annoy.
Siren. Then pleasure likewise seems the shore
Whereto tends all your toil, Which you forgo to make it more,
And perish oft the while. Who may disport them diversely
Find never tedious day, And ease may have variety
As well as action may.
Ulysses. But natures of the noblest frame
These toils and dangers please; And they take comfort in the same
As much as you in ease;
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