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LOOKE how the flowre, which lingringlie doth fade,
The Morning's Darling late, the Summer's Queene,
Thy Sunne postes westward, passed is thy morne,
Drummond, Flowres of Sion
Ed. 1639, 4to.
THE NIGHTINGA L E.
WEET Bird, that sing'ft away the early howres,
Of winters past, or comming void of care,
Sweet artlesse Songstarre, thou my minde doft raise
S P E E C H E S.
Harold's speech before the Battle of Hastings,
"SEE valiant War.friende yonder be the first, the last,
conquer these would conquer you, and dread no further
Yee have in hand your Countries cause, a conquest they pre
part of us are fled and linked to the foe, And glad I am our Armie is of traytours cleered so: Yea pardon hath he to depart that llayeth mal-content : I prise the mind above the man, like zeale hath like event. Yeat truth it is, no well or ill this Isand ever had, But through the well or ill support of lubjects good or bad : Not Cæsar, Hengest, Swayn, or now (which neretheles shall
fayle) The Noriane Bastard, Albion true, did, could, or can pre
vayle. But to be selfe-false in this Ise a selfe-foe ever is, Yeat wot I, never traytour did his treasons itipend mis. Shrinke who will shrinke, let armors wayte presse downe the
burd'ned earth, My foes, with wondring eyes shall see I over-prize my death. But fince ye all (for all, I hope, alike affected bee, Your wives, your children, lives, and land, from fervitude to
free) Are armed both in fhew and zeale, then gloriously contend, 'To winne and weare the home-brought spoyles, of Victorie
the end. Let not the Skinners daughter Sonne poffefse what he pre
tends, He lives to die a noble death that life for freedome spends.“
Duke WILLIAM's Speech.
“To live upon or lie within this is my ground or grave
(My loving Souldiers), one of twaine your Duke resolves
to have. Nor be ye Normanes now to seeke in what you should be stoui, Ye come amidst the English pikes to hewe your honors out, Ye come to winne the same by launce, that is your owne by
law, Ye come, I say, in righteous warre revenging swords to draw. Howbeit of more hardie foes no passed flight hath spead
yee, Since Rollo to your now-abode with bands victorious lead
yee, Or Turchus, Sonne of Troylus, in Scythian Fazo bread
yee. Then worthy your progenitors yee Seede of Pryam's sonne Exployt this Buisnesse, Rollons do that which yee with be
us, And so hold out amidst the rough whil'ft they hale in for lee, Whereas, whil's men securely layle, not seldome shipwracks bee,