I think this is it:
"Let the muses sing and the Graces dance
Not at their wedding only but all their days long
So couple their hearts that no ill ever befall them
Let him never call her other than my Joy! My Light!
And she never call him other than Sweetheart.
And when they must depart this earth
Because they have sweetly lived together
Let one die not a day before the other
But he bury her, she him, with even fate
One heart let jointly separate
O happy both!"
From an Anatomy of Melancholy by Robert Burton
Let the Muses sing, (as he said;) the Graces dance, not at their weddings only but all their days long; so couple their hearts, that no irksomeness or anger ever befall them: let him never call her other name than my joy, my light, or she call him otherwise than sweetheart. To this happiness of theirs, let not old age any whit detract, but as their years, so let their mutual love and comfort increase. And when they depart this life,
———concordes quoniam vixere tot annos,
Auferat hora duos eadem, nec conjugis usquam
Busta suae videat, nec sit tumulandus ab illa.
Because they have so sweetly liv'd together,
Let not one die a day before the other,
He bury her, she him, with even fate,
One hour their souls let jointly separate.
[5979]Fortunati ambo si quid mea carmina possunt,
Nulla dies unquam memori vos eximet aevo.
Atque haec de amore dixisse sufficiat, sub correctione, [5980]quod ait ille, cujusque melius sentientis. Plura qui volet de remediis amoris, legat Jasonem Pratensem, Arnoldum, Montaltum, Savanarolum, Langium, Valescum, Crimisonum, Alexandrum Benedictum, Laurentium, Valleriolam, e Poetis Nasonem, e nostratibus Chaucerum, &c., with whom I conclude,
[5981]For my words here and every part,
I speak hem all under correction,
Of you that feeling have in love's art,
And put it all in your discretion,
To intreat or make diminution,
Of my language, that I you beseech:
But now to purpose of my rather speech.
But could it be this? I doubt it - it doesn't sound like a poem you'd read at a wedding.
Brightness Falls
"Beauty is but a flower,
Which wrinkles will devour.
Brightness falls from the air;
Queens have died young and fair;
Dust hath closed Helen's eye:
I am sick; I must die
Lord, have mercy on us.
Strength stoops unto the grave;
Worms feed on Hector brave;
Swords may not fight with fate;
Earth still holds ope her gate.
'Come, come' the bells do cry:
I am sick; I must die.
Lord, have mercy on us."
2007-08-29 04:22:06
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answer #1
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answered by johnslat 7
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