Now that the harth is crown'd with smiling fire, br And some do drink, and some do dance, br Some ring, br Some sing, br And all do strive t'advance br The gladnesse higher: br Wherefore should I br Stand silent by. br Who not the least, br Both love the cause, and authors of the feast. br Give me my cup, but from the Thespian Well, br That I may tell to Sydney, what br This day br Doth say, br And he may think on that br Which I do tell: br When all the noyse br Of these forc'd joyes, br Are fled and gone, br And he, with his best Genius left alone. br This day says, then, the number of glad yeares br Are justly summ'd, that make you man; br Your vow br Must now br Strive all right ways it can, br T'out-strip your peeres: br Since he doth lack br Of going back br Little, whose will br Doth urge him to run wrong, or to stand still. br Nor can a little of the common store, br Of nobles vertue, shew in you; br Your blood br So good br And great, must seek for new, br And study more: br Nor weary, rest br On what's deceast. br For they, that swell br With dust of ancestors, in graves but dwell. br 'Twill be exacted of your name, whose sonne, br Whose nephew, whose grand-child you are; br And men br Will, then, br Say you have follow'd farre, br When well begun: br Which must be now, br They teach you, how. br And he that stayes br To liue untill to morrow 'hath lost two dayes. br So may you live in honor, as in name, br If with this truth you be inspir'd; br So may br This day br Be more, and long desir'd: br And with the flame br Of love bee bright, br As with the light br Of bone-fires. Then br The Birth-day shines, when logs not burne, but men.