CLXXV. Me, me, and none but me*! dart home, O gentle death! Like to the silver swan, before my death I sing, * Truly classical,-" Me, me; adsum qui feci; in me convertite fer "rum." How might I that fair wonder know, That ever in one change doth grow, So, so, and only so: From Heaven her light she doth borrow. To her then yield thy shafts and bow, Love is free. So are her thoughts that vanquish thee: She, she, and only she, Queen of love, and of beauty. These very fantastic lines evidently apply to the Maiden Queen, who albeit she was in love with every proper man about the court, yet forsooth must compare herself to the icicle on Dian's temple. CLXXVIII. By a fountain where I lay, My true love, my fairest one; Love's clear sight; No world's eye can clearer see; May she ever blessed be!) Came she to this fountain near, Such a face, Such a grace ;— Happy, happy eyes that see Such a heavenly sight as she. Then I forthwith took my pipe, Which I all fair and clean did wipe; Welcome be the shepherds' queen; Another dish of flattery somewhat in the Oriana style. I like the minuteness with which the shepherd describes the preliminary operation before commencing his Roundelay. Many of the grounds or bases upon which performers used to exercise their ingenuity in running divisions or variations, are still extant. Purcell's ground is well known. CLXXIX. Farewell, unkind, farewell! to me no more a father; The wealth which thou dost reap, another's hand must gather, Tho' thy heart still lies buried there. Then farewell, Oh! farewell! Welcome my love, my joy for ever. 'Tis not the vain desire of human fleeting beauty, Then farewell, Oh! farewell! Welcome my love, my joy for ever. This seems to be the effusion of some young gentleman who has made himself "An exile from his father's ha', "And all for love of " some fayre ladye. I cannot commend the want of filial duty, but I admire the parting hit which he gives the old one about his money. JOHN WILBYE. I feel no hesitation in calling John Wilbye the first of Madrigal writers. I except not even the great Luca Marenzio himself; for albeit there are six or seven hundred of his Madrigals extant, and only sixty-four by Wilbye, none of the former in my opinion can compare with Sweet honey-sucking bees, Flora gave me fairest flowers, Down in a valley, or Draw on, sweet night. No other printed works of Wilbye, save the two sets of Madrigals about to be noticed, are known to me. 66 66 The first is entitled "Madrigals* to three, four, five, and "six voices, newly composed by John Wilbye. At London, printed by Thomas Este, 1598." Dedicated to "The right "worshipful and valorous Knight, Sir Charles Cavendish. "Right worshipful and renowned Knight; it hath hap'pened of late, I know not how, whether by my fortune or folly, to commit some of my labours to the press; "which (the weaker the work is) have more need of an "honourable patron. Everything persuades me that your "countenance is a sufficient warrant for them against sharp tongues and unfriendly censures: knowing your rare virtues and honourable accomplishments to be such "as may justly challenge their better regard and opinion "whom it shall please you to patronize. If perchance 'they shall prove worthy your patronage, my affection, 'duty, and good will, bind me rather to dedicate them to "you than to any other; both for the reverence and honour "I owe to all other your most singular virtues, and espe 66 66 66 66 cially also for your excellent skill in music, and your "great love and favour of music. There remaineth only "your favourable acceptance, which humbly craving at "your hands, with protestation of all duty and service, I *Thirty in number. |