The black-bird and the thrush, That made the woods to ring, With all the reft, are now at hush, And not a note they fing.

Sweet Philomel, the bird

That hath the heavenly throat, Doth now, alas! not once afford Recording of a note.

The flowers have had a froft,

The herbs have loft their favour;

And Phillida the fair hath loft

For me her wonted favour.

Thus all these careful fights
So kill me in conceit,
That now to hope upon delights
It is but mere deceit.

And therefore, my fweet muse, That know'ft what help is best, Do now thy heavenly cunning use To fet my heart at reft.

And in a dream bewray

What fate shall be my friend; Whether my life shall still decay, Or when my forrows end.

PH. FLETCHER.

LOVE.

LOVE's fooner felt than feen, his fubftance thinne
Betwixt those snowy mounts in ambush lies;
Oft in the eyes he spreads his fubtle ginne,
He therefore fooneft wins that fastest flies.
Fly thence, my dear, fly faft, my Thomabine,
Who him encounters once, forever dies.
But if he lurk between the ruddy lips,
Unhappy foul, that thence his nectar fips,
While down into his heart the sugar'd poison flips.

Oft in a voice he creeps down thro' the ear,
Oft from a blushing cheek he lights his fire:
Oft shrouds his golden flame in likest hair;
Oft in a foft smooth skin does clofe retire:
Oft in a smile: oft in a filent tear;

And if all fails, yet virtue's felf he'll hire.

Himself's a dart, when nothing else can move : Who then the captive foul can well reprove, When love and virtue's felf become the darts of love.

K

VERSES BY QUEEN ELIZABETH.

I GRIEVE, yet dare not shew

I love, and yet am forc'd to feem to hate;

I do, yet dare not say I ever meant,

I feem ftark mute, but inwardly do prate.

I am, and not, I freeze, and yet am burn'd,
Since from myself my other self I turn'd.

My care is like my fhadow in the fun,

Follows me flying, flies when I pursue it; Stands and lies by me, does what I have done; This too familiar care doth make me rue it. No means I find to rid him from my breast, Till by the end of things it be fuppreft.

Some gentler paffions fteal into my mind,
For I am foft, and made of melting fnow;
Or, be more cruel, love, and fo be kind,
Let me or float or fink, be high or low;

Or let me live with fome more sweet content,
Or die, and fo forget what love e'er meant.

Sign'd, " Finis, Eliza, Regina, upon Mount Zeurs departure, Afomol. Muf. MSS. 6969 (781.) p. 142.

ANONYMOUS.

THE STURDY ROCK.

FROM PERCY'S COLLECTION.

THE sturdy rock, for all his strength,
By raging feas is rent in twain;
The marble ftone is pierc'd, at length,
With little drops of drizzling rain;
The ox doth yield unto the yoke,
The steel obeyeth the hammer ftroke.

The stately ftag, that seems so ftout,
By yelping hounds at bay is fet;
The swifteft bird that flies about,
At length is caught in fowler's net :
The greatest fish, in deepest brook,
Is foon deceived by subtle hook.

Yea, man himself, unto whofe will
All things are bounden to obey,
For all his wit and worthy skill,

Doth fade at length, and fall away. There is nothing but time doth waste, The heav'ns, the earth, confume at last.

But virtue fits triumphing ftill

Upon the throne of glorious fame;
Though spiteful death man's body kill,
Yet hurts he not his virtuous name.
By life or death whate'er betides,
The state of virtue never flides.

THE PRAISE OF AMARGANA.

THE fun, the feason, in each thing
Revives new pleasures; the sweet spring
Hath put to flight the winter keen,
To glad our lovely fummer queen.

The paths where Amargana treads
With flow'ry tapestries Flora spreads,
And nature clothes the ground in green,
To glad our lovely fummer queen.

The groves put on their rich array,
With hawthorn-blooms embroider'd gay,
And sweet-perfumed with eglantine,
To glad our lovely fummer queen.

The filent river stays his course,
Whilft, playing in the chrystal source,
The filver-fcaled fish are seen

To glad our lovely fummer queen.

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