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Her smiles were sober, and her looks were cheer

full unto all, And such as neither wanton seem, nor wayward,

mell nor gall : A nymph no tongue, no heart, no eye, might

praise, might wish, might see, For life, for love, for form, more good, more

worth, more fair than she ; Yea, such a one as such was none, save only she

was such ; Of Argentile, to say the most, were to be silent

much.I knew the lady very well, but worthless of such

praise, The neatress said, and muse I do a shepherd thus.

should blaze The coat of beauty ; credit me, thy latter speech

bewrays Thy clownish shape a colour'd show ; but where

fore dost thou weep ?The shepherd wept, and she was woe, and both

did silence keep :In troth, quoth he, I am not such as seeming I

profess, But then for her, and now for thee, I from my

self digress;

Her loved I, wretch that I am, a recreant

to be, I loved her that hated love, but now I die for

thee. At Kirkland is my father's court, and Curan is

my name, In Edel's court sometime in pomp, till love con

trollid the same ; But now—what now? dear heart, how now, what

aileth thou to weep ? The damsel wept, and he was woe, and both did

silence keep. I grant, quoth she, it was too much, that you did

love so much, But whom your former could not move, your

second love doth touch ; Thy twice-beloved Argentile submitteth her to

thee, And, for thy double love, presents herself a

single fee ; In passion, not in person, changed ; and I, my

lord, am she ;Thus sweetly surfeiting in joy, and silent for a

space, When as the ecstasy had end, did tenderly

embrace.

SIR JOHN HARRINGTON.

(Born, 1561? Died, 1612?) A SPECIMEN of the poetry of Sir John Har His son, the translator of Ariosto, was knighted rington's father has been already given in this on the field by the Earl of Essex, not much to volume, which is so polished and refined, as the satisfaction of Elizabeth, who was sparing of almost to warrant a suspicion that the editor of such honours, and chose to confer them herself. the Nugæ Antiquæ got it from a more modern He was created a knight of the Bath in the reign quarter. The elder Harrington was imprisoned of James, and distinguished himself, to the violent in the Tower, under Queen Mary, for holding a offence of the high church party, by his zeal correspondence with Elizabeth ; on whose acces against the marriage of bishops. sion his fidelity was rewarded by her favour.

FROM SIR JOHN HARRINGTON'S EPIGRAMS.

OF A PRECISE TAILOR.

A TAILOR, thought a man of upright dealing Hepwalked mannerly, he talked meekly,
True, but for lying-honest, but for stealing,

He heard three lectures and two sermons weekly; Did fall one day extremely sick by chance,

He vow'd to shun all company unruly, And on the sudden was in wond'rous trance ; And in his speech he used no oath ; but truly The fiends of hell, mustering in fearful manner, And zealously to keep the sabbath's rest, Of sundry colour'd silks display'd a banner His meat for that day on the eve was drest ; Which he had stolen, and wish'd, as they did tell, And lest the custom which he had to steal That he might find it all one day in hell.

Might cause him sometimes to forget his zeal, The man, affrighted with this apparition, He gives his journeyman a special charge, Upon recovery grew a great precisian :

That if the stuff, allowance being large, He bought a Bible of the best translation, He found his fingers were to filch inclined, And in his life he show'd great reformation ; Bid him to have the banner in his mind.

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(EDIT. 1613.) PERROT, I suspect, was not the author, but to ascertain the real authors of a vast number of only the collector of these trifles, some of which little pieces of the 16th and 17th centuries, as are claimed by other epigrammatists, probably the minor poets pilfer from each other with the with no better right. It is indeed very difficult utmost coolness and apparent impunity.

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Was born in 1581, and perished in the Tower a dryness and quaintness that seem to oppress of London, 1613, by a fate that is too well known. the natural movement of his thoughts. As a The compassion of the public for a man of worth, poet, he has few imposing attractions : his « whose spirit still walked unrevenged amongst beauties must be fetched by repeated perusal. them,” together with the contrast of his ideal They are those of solid reflection, predominating Wife with the Countess of Essex, who was his over, but not extinguishing, sensibility; and there murderess, attached an interest and popularity is danger of the reader neglecting, under the to his poem, and made it pass through sixteen coldness and ruggedness of his manner, the manly editions before the year 1653. His Characters, but unostentatious moral feeling that is conveyed or Witty Descriptions of the Properties of sundry in his maxims, which are sterling and liberal, if Persons, is a work of considerable merit ; but we can only pardon a few obsolete ideas on unfortunately his prose, as well as his verse, has female education.

FROM SIR THOMAS OVERBURY'S POEM,

*

*

*

THE WIFE.

And be that thought once stirr'd, 'twill never Then may I trust her body with her mind,

die, And, thereupon secure, need never know Nor will the grief more mild by custom prove, The pangs of jealousy : and love doth find Nor yet amendment can it satisfy ; More pain to doubt her false than find her so; The anguish more or less is as our love ; For patience is, of evils that are known,

This misery doth from jealousy ensue, The certain remedy ; but doubt hath none. That we may prove her false, but cannot true.

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And as my fancy her conceives to be,
Ev'n such my senses both do feel and see.

Give me, next good, an understanding wife,
By nature wise, not learned by much art ;
Some knowledge on her part will, all her life,
More scope of conversation impart ;
Besides her inborn virtue fortify ;
They are most firmly good that best know why,
A passive understanding to conceive,
And judgment to discern, I wish to find;
Beyond that all as hazardous I leave;
Learning and pregnant wit, in womankind,
What it finds malleable (it) makes frail,
And doth not add more ballast, but more sail.

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Books are a part of man's prerogative ;
In formal ink they thoughts and voices hold,
That we to them our solitude may give,
And make time present travel that of old ;
Our life fame pieceth longer at the end,
And books it farther backward do extend.

But let that fashion more to modesty
Tend than assurance-

–Modesty doth set
The face in her just place, from passion free ;
'Tis both the mind's and body's beauty met.

*

All these good parts a perfect woman make;
Add love to me, they make a perfect wife ;
Without her love, her beauty I should take
As that of pictures deadthat gives it life;
Till then her beauty, like the sun, doth shine
Alike to all ;-that only makes it mine.

So fair at least let me imagine her ;
That thought to me is truth. Opinion
Cannot in matters of opinion err;

WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE.

(Born, 1564. Died, 1616.)

FROM HIS SONNETS.

SONNET II.

Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly, When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,

When summer's breaththeir

masked buds discloses; And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,

But, for their virtue only is their show, Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now,

They live unwoo'd, and unrespected fade, Will be a tatter'd weed of small worth held ;

Die to themselves-Sweet roses do not so, Then being ask'd where all thy beauty lies,

Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made ; Where all the treasure of thy lusty days

And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth, To say “ within thine own deep sunken eyes,”

When that shall fade my verse distils your truth. Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise ; How much more praise deserv'd thy beauty's use, If thou couldst answer“ This fair child of mine

SONNET CXVI.
Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse,”

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Proving his beauty by succession thine:
This were to be new-made when thou art old,

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds, And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold.

Or bends with the remover to remove;

it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark, (taken. SONNET LIV.

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be Ou! how much more doth Beauty beauteous seem, Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks By that sweet ornament which truth doth give ! Within his bending sickle's compass come ; The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, For that sweet odour which doth in it live ; But bears it out even to the edge of doom : The canker'd blooms have full as deep a dye, If this be error, and upon me proved, As the perfumed tincture of the roses,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

O no,

!

SONNET CXLV.

Those lips, that Love's own hand did make,
Breathed forth the sound that said "I hate,"
To me that languish for her sake.
But when she saw my woeful state,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue that, ever sweet,

Was used in giving gentle doom ;
And taught it thus anew to greet :
“ I hate” she alter'd with an end
That follow'd it as gentle day
Doth follow night, who, like a fiend,
From heav'n to hell is flown away.
“ I hate”—from hate away she threw,
And saved my life, saying—“not you.”

SIR WALTER RALEIGH.

(Born, 1552. Died, 1618.)

It is difficult exactly to estimate the poetical | this period so indignant with him for an amour character of this great man, as many of the which he had with one of her maids of honour, pieces that are ascribed to him have not been that, though he married the lady (she was the authenticated. Among these is the “ Soul's daughter of Sir Nicholas Throgmorton), her Farewell,” which possesses a fire of imagination majesty committed him, with his fair partner, to that we would willingly ascribe to him ; but his the Tower. The queen forgave him, however, claim to it, as has been already mentioned, is at last, and rewarded his services with a grant exceedingly doubtful. The tradition of his having of the manor of Sherborne, in Dorsetshire, written it on the night before his execution, is where he built a magnificent seat. Raleigh's highly interesting to the fancy, but, like many mind was not one that was destined to travel in fine stories, it has the little defect of being untrue, the wheel-ruts of common prejudice. It was as the poem was in existence more than twenty rumoured that he had carried the freedom of his years before his death. It has accordingly been philosophical speculation to an heretical height placed in this collection, with several other on many subjects ; and his acceptance of the pieces to which his name has been conjectur- church lands of Sherborne, already mentioned, ally affixed, among the anonymous poetry of that probably supplied additional motives to the clergy period.

to swell the outcry against his principles. He Sir Walter was born at Hayes Farm, in Devon- was accused (by the jesuits) of atheism-a charge shire, and studied at Oxford. Leaving the uni- which his own writings sufficiently refute. Whatversity at seventeen, he fought for six years ever were his opinions, the public saved him the under the Protestant banners in France, and trouble of explaining them; and the queen, taking afterwards served a campaign in the Netherlands. it for granted that they must be bad, gave him He next distinguished himself in Ireland during an open, and, no doubt, edifying reprimand. To the rebellion of 1580, under the lord deputy console himself under these circumstances, he Lord Grey de Wilton, with whom his personal projected the conquest of Guiana, sailed thither disputes eventually promoted his fortunes ; for in 1595, and having captured the city of San being heard in his own cause on returning to Joseph, returned and published an account of England, he won the favour of Elizabeth, who

In the following year he acted knighted him, and raised him to such honours gallantly under the Earl of Essex at Cadiz, as as alarmed the jealousy of her favourite Lei. well as in what was called the “ Island Voycester.

age*.” On the latter occasion he failed of comIn the mean time, as early as 1579, he had plete success only through the jealousy of the commenced his adventures with a view to colo- favourite. nize America—surveyed the territory now called His letter to Cecil, in which he exhorted that Virginia, in 1584, and fitted out successive fleets statesman to the destruction of Essex, forms but in support of the infant colony. In the destruc- too sad and notorious a blot in our hero's memory; tion of the Spanish armada, as well as in the yet even that offence will not reconcile us to behold expedition to Portugal in behalf of Don Antonio, the successor of Elizabeth robbing Raleigh of his he had his full share of action and glory ; and estate to bestow it on the minion Carr; and on though recalled, in 1592, from the appointment the grounds of a plot in which his participation of general of the expedition against Panama, he was never proved, condemning to fifteen years of must have made a princely fortune by the success imprisonment the man who had enlarged the of his fleet, which sailed upon that occasion, and empire of his country, and the boundaries of returned with the richest prize that had ever

* A voyage that was aimed principally at the Spanish been brought to England. The queen was about Plate fleets.

his voyage.

Unborn was false Suspect ;
No thought of Jealousy ;
From wanton toys and fond affect
The virgin's life was free ;
Hey down a down, did Dian sing, &c.
At length men used charms,
To which what maids gave ear,
Embracing gladly endless harms,
Anon enthralled were.

Thus women welcomed woe,
Disguised in name of love ;
A jealous hell, a painted show,
So shall they find that prove.
Hey down a down, did Dian sing,
Amongst her virgins sitting,
Than love there is no vainer thing,
For maidens most unfitting.

A VISION UPON THE FAIRY QUEEN.'

METHOUGHT I saw the grave where Laura lay,
Within that temple where the vestal flame
Was wont to burn : and passing by that way
To see that buried dust of living fame,
Whose tomb fair Love and fairer Virtue kept,
All suddenly I saw the Fairy Queen,
At whose approach the soul of Petrarch wept ;
And from thenceforth those Graces were not seen,
For they this Queen attended ; in whose stead
Oblivion laid him down on Laura's hearse.
Hereat the hardest stones were seen to bleed,
And groans of buried ghosts the heavens did pierce,
Where Homer's spright did tremble all for grief,
And cursed th' access of that celestial thief.

THE SHEPHERD'S DESCRIPTION OF LOVE. Ascribed to Sir W. Raleigh in England's Helicon.'

human knowledge. James could estimate the than avarice. On the 29th of October, 1618, wise, but shrunk from cordiality with the brave. Raleigh perished on a scaffold, in Old PalaceHe released Raleigh, from avaricious hopes about yard, by a sentence originally iniquitous, and the mine of Guiana ; and when disappointed in which his commission to Guiana had virtually that object, sacrificed him to motives still baser revoked.

THE SILENT LOVER.

Passions are liken'd best to floods and streams,

The shallow murmur, but the deep are dumb; | So when affection yields discourse, it seems

The bottom is but shallow whence they come ;
They that are rich in words must needs discover
They are but poor in that which makes a lover.

Wrong not, sweet mistress of my heart,
The merit of true passion,
With thinking that he feels no smart
That sues for no compassion.
Since if my plaints were not t' approve
The conquest of thy beauty,
It comes not from defect of love,
But fear t' exceed my duty.
For not knowing that I sue to serve
A saint of such perfection
As all desire, but none deserve
A place in her affection,
I rather chuse to want relief
Than venture the revealing ;
Where glory recommends the grief,
Despair disdains the healing.
Silence in love betrays more woe
Than words, though ne'er so witty ;
A beggar that is dumb, you know,
May challenge double pity.
Then wrong not, dearest to my heart,
My love for secret passion ;
He smarteth most who hides his smart,
And sues for no compassion *.

A NYMPH'S DISDAIN OF LOVE.

Her down a down, did Dian sing,
Amongst her virgins sitting,
Than love there is no vainer thing
For maidens most unfitting :
And so think I, with a down down derry.
When women knew no woe,
But liv'd themselves to please,
Men's feigning guiles they did not know,
The ground of their disease.
* (This poem is attributed to Lord Pembroke --but it
has been ascribed with great probability to Sir Robert
Ayton in a Ms. and contemporary volume of Ayton's
poems once in Mr. Heber's hands.]

Melib. SHEPHERD, what's love ? I pray thee tell.
Faust. It is that fountain and that well

Where pleasure and repentance dwell;
It is, perhaps, that sauncing bell
That tolls all into heav'n or hell,

And this is love as I heard tell.
M. Yet, what is love ? I prithee say.
F. It is a work on holiday ;

It is December match'd with May,
When lusty blood 's in fresh array,
And this is love as I hear say.

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