Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. II. The Seventeenth Century: Ben Jonson to Dryden

William Browne (c. 1590–c. 1645)

Song: ‘Welcome, welcome do I sing’ (from Minor Poems)

WELCOME, welcome do I sing

Far more welcome than the spring:

He that parteth from you never

Shall enjoy a spring for ever.

Love, that to the voice is near

Breaking from your ivory pale,

Need not walk abroad to hear

The delightful nightingale.

Welcome, welcome then I sing

Far more welcome than the spring

He that parteth from you never

Shall enjoy a spring for ever.

Love, that looks still on your eyes,

Tho’ the winter have begun

To benumb our arteries,

Shall not want the summer’s sun.

Welcome, welcome, &c.

Love, that still may see your cheeks,

Where all rareness still reposes,

Is a fool if e’er he seeks

Other lilies, other roses.

Welcome, welcome, &c.

Love, to whom your soft lip yields,

And perceives your breath in kissing,

All the odours of the fields

Never, never shall be missing.

Welcome, welcome, &c.

Love, that question would anew

What fair Eden was of old,

Let him rightly study you,

And a brief of that behold.

Welcome, welcome, &c.