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SELECTION 


FROM   THE 


POETICAL  WORKS 


Cijomas  Careta). 


LONDON: 


PRINTED    FOR     LONGMAN,    HURST,    REES,     AND    ORME ; 

Bif  John  Erans,  Bristol  Mercury  Office  f 

AND  SOLD   BY 

THOMAS  FRY  &  CO.  NO.  46,   HIGH-STREET,   BRISTOL. 

1810. 


TO 

SIR  S.  EGERTON  BRYDGES,  K.  J. 

THE  RENOVATOR  OF  EARLY  ENGLISH  LITERATURE, 

THIS  SELECTION 

FROM    THE   WORKS   OF 

CAREW,  ^ 

IS   MOST  RESPECTFULLY   INSCRIBED, 


BY 


THE  EDITOR. 


A  S 


646290 


PREFACE. 


The  PubuC  is  h^re  presented  with  a 
selection  from  the  Poetical  Works  of  an 
unjustly-neglected  Author,  and  I  shall 
feel  ample  gratification  in  the  conscious- 
ness of  reviving  his  memory,  if  what  I 
have  done  be  instrumental  to  that  effect. 

To  many  readers,  the  notes  appended 
may  appear  prolix  and  unnecessary  j  I 
can  only  observe,  they  appeared  to  me 
not  irrelative.  One  principal  object  in 
gathering  tliem  was,  to  induce  the  Lover 
of  Poesy  to  give  more  attention  to  the 
contemporaries  of  my  Author.  In  our 
enthusiastic    admiration    of    "    Fancy's 


VI 

"  sweetest  children,"  SPENSER,  Shak- 
SPEARE,  and  the  immortal  MiLTON,  we 
seem  to  have  forgotten  the  existence  of 
Drayton,  Daniel,  Browne,  the  two 
Fletchers,  Drummond,  and  Wither* — 
poets  who,  although  not  possessing  the 
power  to  engage  the  imagination  so 
strongly  as  the  great  triumvirate,  are 
still,  to  a  high  degree,  sublime,  pictu- 
resque, and  pathetic;  and  they  must, 
either  from  the  present  age  or  from 
posterity,  receive  that  regard  to  their 
merits  which  has  hitherto  been  denied 
them,  except  by  the  "  chosen  few.''* 

I   now   commit   this   volume    to    the 
indulgent  Critic,  with  an  earnest  hope, 

*  To  these  may  be  added,  Habingtoii,  Lovelace, 
Herrick,  and,  in  the  department  of  the  Drama, 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  Ben  Jonson,  Massinger, 
Shirley,  and  Ford. 


Vll 

that  Carew  may  be  at  last  restored  to 
that  rank  he  ought  long  ago  to  have 
possessed,  and  that  Waller  may  be  no 
longer  exclusively  considered  the  Refiner 
of  English  Poetry. 

A  learned  Critic  has  long  ago  remarked, 
that  *'  Carew  opens  the  poetical  age  of 
*'  Charles  I.  with  great  lustre.  He  pre- 
*'  served  the  harmony  of  his  verse,  if  not 
*'  the  purity  of  his  taste,  untainted  by 
*'  his  metaphysical  contemporaries.  In. 
*'  point  of  versification,  he  is  the  link 
*'  which  joins  Spenser  and  Fairfax  to 
"  Waller  and  Denham." — British  Critic, 
vol.  xix.  p.  621. 

To   conclude, — I    devoutly    wish   the 

reader  may  receive  as  much  pleasure  in 

perusing,    as    I    have   in    editing,    this 

Selection. 

JOHN  FRY. 

Bristol,  January  1810. 


SOME   ACCOUNT   OF 

THOMAS  CARFJV. 


'iv 

-  The  trite  observation,  that  the  Life  of  a  Maii  of 
Letters  is  too  uniform  for  much  diversity  of  relation 
in  narrating  it,  although  the  fallacy  of  such  corol- 
lary is  evinced  in  many  inijtances  to  the  contrary, 
6n  the  present  occasion  remains  in  full  force.  The 
life  of  Carew  had  few  incidents,  and  those  are 
easily  told. 

The  sera  of  his  birth  is  doubtful,  but,  from  col- 
lateral circumstances,  probably  about  1577-  He 
was  a  descendant  from  the  ancient  and  honorable 
family  of  his  name,  long  seated  in  Cornwall  (but 
the  branch  whence  he  immediately  sprung  was  of 
Glocestershire),  and  brother  to  Sir  Matthew  Carew, 
a  strenuous  and  distinguished  adherent  to  Charles, 
in  the  unfortunate  dissensions  which,  a  century 
and  an  half  ago,  deluged  this  country  with  blood, 
Thomas  received  his  education  at  Corpus  Christi 
College,  Oxford ;  and  although,  according  to  Wood, 
it  does  not  appear  that  he  was  matriculated  as  a 
member,  or  admitted  to  a  degree,  his  genius  aud 
abilities  early  acc|uired  him  the  notice  of  the  wise 
aud  good. 


His  attainments  and  education  were  improved  by 
travel,  and  the  manners  and  customs  of  different^ 
countries  which  he  visited  were  observed  ^ith  an 
attentive  eye. 

On  his  return,  birth,  as  well  as  accomplishments, 
were  his  introductions  to  the  circles  of  the  great ; 
and  AVeod  tells  us,  "  he  was  adored  by  the  poets  of 
his  time."  Trusting  implicitly  to  the  honest  bio- 
grapher, we  know  he  was  beloved  by  Jonson,  Donne, 
D'Avenant,  May,  and  Suckling;  although  after 
his  death  the  latter  could  write  of  him, 

**  Tom  Carew  was  next,  but  he  had  a  fault 

"  That  would  not  well  stand  with  a  Laureat ; 

"  His  Muse  was  hide-bound,  and  th'  issue  of 's  brain 

*'  Was  seldom  brought  forth  but  with  trouble  and  pain.''* 

To  this  unmerited  censure  we  need  only  oppose 
the  opinion  of  the  ingenious  Mister  Headley :  *'  He 
*'  has  the  ease  without  the  pedantry  of  Waller,  and 
"  perhaps  less  conceit." 

The  interest  of  his  brother  probably  opened  the 
way  for  an  introduction  to  Charles,  the  fruits  of 
which  were,  bein;^  appointed  (Gentleman  of  the 
Privy  Chamber,  and  Sewer  in  ordinary  to  His 
Majesty:  those  posts  he  retained  till  his  death, 
which  happened  in  l639,  universally  regretted. 

Lord  Clarendon  has  recorded  of  him  that  he 
possessed  excellent  parts,  and  "  was  a  person  of  a 
*•  pleasant    and   facetious  wit,    and   made  many 


XI 


*•  poems  (especially  in  the  amorous  way),  which 
'*  for  the  sharpness  of  the  fancy,  and  the  elegancy 
**  of  the  language,  in  which  that  language  was 
**  spiced,  were  at  last  equal,  if  not  superior  to  any 
•'  of  that  time.  But  his  glory  was,  that  after  fifty 
*'  years  of  his  life,  spent  with  less  severity  or  exact- 
"  ness  than  it  ought  to  have  been,  he  died  with  the 
*'  greatest  remorse  for  that  license,  and  with  the 
"  greatest  manifestation  of  Christianity  that  his 
"  best  friends  could  desire." 

A  little  remains  to  be  said  relative  to  Celia,  the 
lady  to  whom  most  of  his  amatory  productions  are 
addressed.  At  this  period  of  time  it  would  be 
difficult,  and  indeed  impracticable,  to  ascertain  her 
real  name:  we  have  no  clue  to  direct  us,  either  in 
his  own  writings  or  those  of  his  contemporaries. 
For  her,  however,  a  sincere  affection  seems  to  have 
been  entertained,  although  he  never  received  a 
return. 

*' Oh  Love,  requited  Love  J  how  fine  thy  thrills, 
"  That  shake  the  tremhliiig  frame  with  ecstacy, 
"  E'en  every  vein  celestial  pleasure  fills, 
"  And  inexpressive  hiiss  is  in  each  sigh." 

Brydges,  Son.  30,  Poems,  ed.  I8O7. 

This  disappointment  may  palliate,  if  it  does  not 
excuse  the  irregularities  of  his  conduct. 

I  may  be  expected  to  say  a  few  words  respecting 
the  merit  of  the  Poems  selected  in  the  following 


Xll 


pao-es.  Among  the  elegant  Reliques  of  Bishop 
Percy,  and  Specimens  of  Mister  EUis,  many  of 
them  have  already  found  a  place,  as  well  as  'in  the 
Select  Beauties  of  Mister  Headley,  who  seems  to 
have  entertained  a  very  just  idea  of  Carew,  altliough 
his  critique  has  not  succeeded  in  regaining  the 
public  attention. 

It  is  in  the  Amatory  department  that  we  must 
seek,  in  order  to  form  a  correct  opinion  of  his 
poetical  talent.  In  it  I  do  not  hesitate  to  assert, 
every  reader  of  taste  will  discover  a  tender  glow  of 
imagination  and  felicity  in  combining  ideas,  that 
mark  him  as  a  true  poet.  It  is  easy  to  scribble 
verses,  but  quite  difterent  to  write  poetry.  In 
Carew  we  almost  always  perceive  an  unaffected 
method  of  sentiment,  so  many  beautiful  images 
that  are  not  to  be  found  in  any  former  author; 
added  to  which,  so  mellifluous  a  flow  of  harmony 
in  his  lines,  that  we  cannot  deny  him  the  praise  of 
the  latter.  He  is  the  first  that  has  sung  the  praises 
of  Beauty,  and  the  delightful  sensations  of  Love, 
with  Doric  delicacy.  He  displays  a  manner  of  his 
own,  much  superior  to  the  pedantic  metaphysical 
■effusions  of  Waller,  and  he  only  requires  to  be 
inore  known  to  be  more  redde. 

The  beautiful  little  piece,  Disdaine  Returned, 
has  already  met  the  commendation  of  that  elezant 
critic.  Bishop  Percy,  and  been  inserted  in  Mister 
Ellis's  Specimens. 


Xlll 

Itt  the  Pastoral  Dialogue,  there  are  soriie  pas- 
sages exquisitely  fine.     Such  are, 

"  Sec,  Love,  t\ie  blushes  of  the  morn  appear, 

"  And  now  she  hnngs  her  pearly  store, 

"  llob'd  from  the  eastern  shore, 

"  r  th'  cowslips  bell  and  roses  rare." 

*'  They  kist  and  wept,  and  from  their  lips  and  eyes, 
"  In  a  mixt  dew  of  briny  sweet, 
"  Their  joys  and  sorrows  meet." 

The  ensuing  image  has  been  used  in  a  dilated 
manner  by  many  of  our  moderu  poets. 

"  The  winged  hours  fly  fast  while  we  embrace, 
"  But  when  we  want  their  help  to  meet, 
"  They  move  with  leaden  feet." 

The  Primrose  also  so  sweetly 

*'  Bepearl'd  with  true  poetic  dew," 

evidently    ranks    our  author  amongst   "  Fancy's 
children,"  who 

"  Warble  their  native  wood  no(cs  wild." 

It  may  not  be  Improper  to  remark,  tliat  for  this 
Selection  the  2d  edition  of  Carew,  lG4'2,  has  been 
used,  with  one  exception,  in  wliich  1  have  conjec- 
turally  altered  a  word. 

"  The  parents  that  first  gave  her  breath, 
**  And  their  ead  friemis  laid  her  in  ettrth." 


XIV 

So  stand  the  two  lines  in  that  edition,  and  the 
one  of  1772;  but  I  have  taken  the  liberty,  for  the 
sake  of  the  rime,  of  altering  the  first  line  to 
"  The  parents  that  first  gave  her  Kr^A." 

And  so  it  is  most  probable  Carew  wrote  it. 

J.  F. 

Bristol,  Jan.  isio« 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


Page 

DEDICATION Hi 

PREFACE T 

SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  THOMAS  CAREW ix 

AMATORY.     Pciswasions  to  Love 3 

Lip8  and  Eyes 10 

SoNC.     Murdring  Beauty 12  . 

Sccrerie  Protested 13 

A  Prayer  to  the  Wind 14 

Song.     Mediocrity  in  Love  rejected 17 

Good  Counsel  to  a  Young  Maid. ..18 

To  my  Mistris,  sitting  by  a  River's  Side.. ..20 

Sons,     Conquest  by  Flight 23 

To  my  Inconstant  Mistris 24 

Perswasions  to  Enjoy 25 

Ingrateful  Beauty  threatued...yw 36 

Disdaine  returned 29 

.Song.     Eternity  of  Love  protested 31 

Good  Connsell  to  a  Young  Maid 32 

Song.     To  One  who,  when  I  prais'd  my 

Mistris  Beauty,  said  I  was  blind 33 

Toroy  Mistris,  I  burning  in  Love  34 

To  her  againc,    she  burning  in  a 

Feaver 3(i 

i 
A  Fly  that  flew  into  my  Mistris  her  Eye... 37 

Song.     Celia  Singing 39 


XVI 

Page 

AMATORY.  BoUlnesscin  Love 40 

A  Pastoi-atl  Dialogue 43 

Red  and  White  Roses 46 

The  Enquiry 47 

The  Primrose 49 

The  Protestation 52 

The  Dart 56 

Upon  a  Mole  in  Celia's  Bosome. 57 

DESCRIPTIVE.    The  Spring ^ 6l 

ToSaxham 6t 

To  my  Friend  G.  N.  from  Wrest 68 

ELEGIAC.  Epitaph  oe  Lady  Mary  Villers 79 

Anoilier 80 

EPLSTOLARY.      Upon     Master     W.     Moantague     his 

Retui-ne 83 

To  Biy  worthy  Friend  Master  George 

Sands 87 

To  my  Lord  Admirall go 


9lmatorp* 


mtA...^^ 


TO 

A.  L. 

PERSWASIONS   TO    LOVE. 


Thinke  not,  'cause  men  flatt'ring  say, 

Y'are  fresh  as  Aprill,  sweet  as  Miay, 

Bright  as  is  the  morriiftg-starre 

That  you  are  so ;  or  though  you  are. 

Be  not  therefore  proud,  and  deem  5 

All  men  unworthy  your  esteeme: 

V.  3.  BrigJtt  as  is  the  numing  «/an-e.]— Thus  Milton^  Ode  cK 
May  Morning,  1.1. 

"  Now  tbe  bright  momittfj  ataty  day's  harbinger, 
"  Comes  duncing<  from  the  East." 

Spenser,  F.  Q.  b.  i.  c.  12.  st.  21. 

"  As  bright  as  (loth  the  wornw^  stafre  appears 
Out  of  the  East." 

B   2 


For  being  so,  you  loose  the  pleasure 

Of  being  faire,  since  that  rich  treasure 

Of  rare  beauty  and  sweet  feature 

Was  bestow'd  on  you  by  Nature  10 

To  be  enjoy'd,  and  'twere  a  sin 

There  to  be  scarce,  where  she  hath  beene 

So  prodigall  of  her  best  grace*; 

Thus  common  beauties  and  meane  faces 

Shall  have  more  pastime,  and  enjoy  15 

The  sport  you  loose,  by  being  coy. 

Did  the  thing  for  which  I  sue, 

Onely  concerne  myselfe,  not  you; 

Were  men  so  fram'd  as  they  alone 

Reap'd  all  the  pleasure,  women  none,  20 

Then  had  you  reason  to  be  scant; 

But  twere  a  madnesse  not  to  grant 

That  which  affords  (if  you  consent) 

To  you  the  giver,  more  content 

Than  me  the  beggar;  oh  then  be  25 

Kind  to  yourselfe,  if  not  to  mee; 

Starve  not  yourselfe,  because  you  may 

Thereby  make  me  pine  away; 


Nor  let  brittle  beauty  make 

You  your  wiser  thoughts  forsake:  30 

For  that  lovely  face  will  faile; 

Eeautie's  sweet,  but  beautie's  fraile; 

'Tis  sooner  past,  'tis  sooner  done 

Than  summer's  rainc,  or  winter's  sun  ; 

Most  fleeting  when  it  is  most  deare ;  35 

'Tis  gone,  while  wee  but  say  ^tis  here. 

These  curious  locks  so  aptly  twind. 

Whose  every  haire  a  soule  doth  bind, 

t).  32.  Beautie's  sweety  but  beautie'sjTaU.}— Milton,  Par,  Lost, 
b.  xi  V.  538. 

"  thou  mnst  outlive 

Thy  youth,  thy  strength,  thy  beauty,  which  will  change 
To  withei'd,  weak,  aadgtay.'" 

V.  37.  These  curious  locks  so  aptly  twind,  &c.] — There  is  a 
great  similarity  between  this  poem  and  Daniel's  "  Descrip- 
tion of  Beauty,"  translated  from  Marino,  particularly  the 
fonr  following^  stanzas. 

Old  trembling  age  will  come. 

With  wrinkPd  checks  and  stains. 

With  motion  troublesome; 

With  skin  and  bloodless  veins. 

That  lively  visage  reaven. 

And  made  defurmM  and  old, 

Hates  sight  of  glass  it  lov'd  so  to  behold. 


6 

Will  change  their  abxoun  hue,  and  grow 
White,  and  cold  as  winter's  snow.  40 

That  eye  which  now  is  Cupid's  nest 
Will  prove  his  grave,  and  all  the  rest 

Thy  gold  and  scarlet  shall 

Pale  silrcr-colour  be ; 

Thy  row  of  pearls  shall  fall 

Like  wither'd  leaves  from  treej 

And  thou  shalt  shortly  see 

Thy  face  and  hair  to  grow. 

All  ploughed  with  fun-ows,  overswoln  with  snow. 

That  which  on  Flora's  breast. 

All  fresh  and  flourishing, 

Aurora  newly  drest 

Saw  in  her  dawning  spring ; 

Quite  d>"y  and  languishing, 

Depriv'd  of  honour  quite, 

Day  closing  Hesperus  beholds  at  night. 

Fair  is  the  lily  ;  fair 

The  rose ;  of  flow'rs  the  eye  1 

Both  wither  in  the  air. 

Their  beauteous  colours  die  j 

And  so  at  length  shall  lie, 

Depriv'd  of  former  grace. 

The  lillies  of  thy  breasts,  the  roses  of  thy  face. 

V.  39.  JiroanJ— Anhum. 


will  follow ;  in  the  cheeke,  ehih,  nose. 

Nor  Hlly  shall  be  found,  nor  rose ; 

And  what  will  thert  become  of  all  45 

Those,  whom  niDvv  you  servants  call  ? 

Like  swalloweSi  when  your  summer's  done 

They'le  fly,  and  seeke  some  warmer  suti. 

Then  wisely  chuse  one  to  your  friend. 

Whose  love  may  (when  yout  beauties  fend)     50 

Remaine  still  firm  :  be  provident, 

And  thinke  before  the  summer's  spent 

Of  following  winter ;  like  the  dnt 

In  plenty  hoord  for  time  of  scant. 

Cull  out  amongst  the  multitude  .Tr> 

Of  lovers,  that  seek  to  intrude 

Into  your  favour,  one  that  may 

Love  for  an  age,  not  for  a  day ; 

One  that  will  quench  your  youthfull  fires. 

And  feed  in  age  your  hot  desires.  60 

V.  53 like  the  ant 

In  plenty  hoord  for  tme  of  wnnf.]— Milton,  Par,  F/>^<y 
h.  vii.  485. 

"  The  parsimonious  emmet,  provident 
'<  Of  >/«?■/;." 


8 

For  when  the  stormes  of  Time  have  mov'd 

Waves  on  that  cheeke  which  was  belov'cl ; 

When  a  faire  ladle's  face  is  pin'd. 

And  yellow  spred,  where  red  once  shin'd ; 

When  beauty,  youth,  and  all  sweets  leave  her,  65 

Love  may  returne,  but  lovers  never  : 

And  old  folkes  say  there  are  no  paines 

Like  itch  of  love  in  aged  vaines. 

Oh  love  me  then,  and  now  begin  it. 

Let  us  not  loose  this  present  minute :  70 

For  time  and  age  will  worke  that  wrack 

Which  time  or  age  shall  nere  call  back. 

The  snake  each  yeare  fresh  skin  resumes. 

And  Eagles  change  their  aged  plumes } 

The  faded  Rose  each  spring  receives  75 

A  fresh  red  tincture  on  her  leaves : 

V.  73.    The  snake  each  yeare  fresh  skin  resumes.'] — ^Thiis  Milton 
Tar.  Lost,  b.  x.  218. 

"  Or  as  the  saake  with  youthful  coat  repaid." 

B.  7i>.  The  faded  rose  each  spring  receives 

Afresh  red  tincture  on  her  leaies] — Milton,  Sonn  20.  v  G. 

"  Favonius  reinspirc 

"  The  frozen  earth,  and  clothe  in  fresh  attire 
"  The  lily  and  rose.'" 


But  if  your  beauties  once  decay. 
You  never  know  a  second  May, 
Oh  then  be  wise,  and  whilst  your  season 
Affords  you  dayes  for  sport,  doe  reason;         80 
Spend  not  in  vaine  your  lives  short  hourc. 
But  crop  in  time  your  beauties  flower. 
Which  will  away,  and  doth  together 
Both  bud  and  fade,  both  blow  and  wither. 


1^ 


LIPS  AND  EYES. 


In  Celia's  face  a  question  did  arise, 

Which  were  more  beautiful!,  hef  Lips  or  Eyes: 

We   (said  the  Eyes)   send  forth  those  poynted 

darts 
Which  pierce  the  hardest  adamantine  hearts. 
From  us  (replyde  theLips)  proceed  those  bUsses,  5 
Which  lovers  reape  by  kind  words  and  sweet 

kisses. 
Then  wept  the  Eyes,  and  from  their  springs  did 

powre 
Of  liquid  orientall  pearle  a  shower. 

w.  7 aiidfiom  their  springs  did  powre 

Of  liquid  orientall  pearle  a  sJioJcer.} — This  metaphor 
i«  very  beautiful  j  as  in  Milton,  Par.  Lost,  b.  v.  i. 

•'  Now  morn,  her  rosy  steps  iu  the  eastern  clime 
"  Advancing,  sow"d  the  earth  with  orient  pearl.'" 


11 

Whereat  the   Lips,    mov'd   with   delight   and 

pleasure. 
Through  a  sweet  smile    unlockt   their  pearlie 

treasure; 
And  bad  Love  judge,  whether  did  adde  more 

grace. 
Weeping,  or  smiling  pearles  in  Celia's  face.  12 


12 

SONG. 

MURDRING   BEAUTY. 


I'll  gaze  no  more  on  her  bewitching  face. 
Since  ruine  harbours  there  in  every  placet 
For  my  enchanted  soule  alike  she  drowns 
With  calmes  or   tempests  of  her  smiles   and 

firownes. 
I'le  love  no  more  those  cruel!  eyes  of  her's,      5 
Which,  pleas'd  or  anger'd,  still  are  murderers : 
For  if  shee  dart  (like  lightning)  thro'  the  ayre 
Her  beames  of  wrath,  she  kils  me  with  despaire  : 
If  she  behold  mec  with  a  pleasing  eye, 
I  surfet  with  excesse  of  joy,  and  dye.  10 

».  7 dart,  like  lightning,  thro' the  ayre.J — Miltou,  Par. 

Lost,  b.  vi.  64S. 

"  Light  as  the  lightning  glimpse  they  ran." 

B.  X.  184. 

'•  Saw  Satan yb//,  like  lightning,  down  from  Heaven.'" 

Samson.  Agon.  1284. 

"  Swiji  as  the  lightning  glance." 


13 


SECRECIE  TROTESTED. 


Feare  not  (deare  Love)  that  Tie  reveale 

Those  hoiires  of  pleasure  we  two  steak  ; 

No  eye  shall  see,  nor  yet  the  sun 

Descrj',  what  thou  and  I  have  done ; 

No  eare  shall  heare  our  love ;  but  wee  5 

Silent  as  the  night  will  be; 

The  God  of  Love  himselfe  (whose  dart 

Did  first  wound  mine,  and  then  thy  heart) 

Shall  never  know,  that  we  can  tell. 

What  sweets  in  stolne  embraces  dwell :  10 

This  only  meancs  may  find  it  out ; 

If,  when  I  dye,  physicians  doubt 

What  caus'd  my  death ;  and,  there  to  view 

Of  all  their  judgements  which  was  true. 

Rip  up  my  heart :  O  then  I  feare  15 

The  world  will  see  thy  picture  there. 

I!.  6.  Silent  as  the  n»g'A^]— Milton  has,  Par,  Lost,  b.  iv.  647, 
"  Silent  night." 

Srovne's  Brit,  Past.  h.  i.  s.  4. 

*'  All  hnsbt  aud  silent  as  the  mid  of  night,'' 


u 

A  PRAYER  TO  THE  WIND. 


GoE  thou  gentle  whispering  wind, 
Beare  this  sigh;  and  if  thou  find 

V.  1.    Goe   thou  gentle   whispfering    wind;]— Thus  Milton", 
Par.  Reg.  b.  ir.  26. 

*'  Where  mnds  witii  reeds  and  osiers  voldsptrirrg  play." 

V Allegro,  llG. 

"  By;  whispering,  winds  soon  lull'd  asleep." 

Ode  on  Christ's  Nat.  64j  &c. 

"  The  winds,  with  wonder  whist, 

"  SiAaothty  the  waters  kist, 
;  ;"  Whispering  new  joys  to  the  luild  ocean." 

Consult  also  Mister  Todd's  Notes  on  the  two  former  pas- 
sages, in  bis  last  edition  of  Milton. 

Browne's  iJr<V.  Past.  b.  i.  s.  4. 
"  A  western,  mild,,  and  pretty  whispering,  gale, 
"  Came  ddttylng  with  the  leaves  along  the  dale." 

«.  1 .   Goe  thou  gentle  whispering  wind, 
JJcare  this  sigh';  and'if  tfiou\fiiid 
Where  my  crueU  /aire  doth  rest. 

Cast  it  in  her  snowie  breast.'} — Pope  seems  to  have  iiad 
ihis  passage  in  view  when  he  wrote 

"  Go,  gentle  gales,  and  bear  my  sighs  away ! 
•*  To  Delia's  «ar  the  tender  notes  conveyf" 

Autumn,  Past.  3. 


m 

Where  my  cruell  faire  doth  rest, 

Cast  it  in  her  snowie  brest ;  ■''od 

So,  enflam'd'  by  iiay  desire,  rUl 

It  may  set  her  heanfc  afire : 

Those  sweet  kisses  thou  shalt  gaine 

Will  reward  thee  for  thy  paine. 

Boldly  light  upon  her  lip. 

There  suck  odours,  and  thence  skip-  IOj 

Toherbosome;  lastly^  falb 

Downe,  and  wander;  overall;: 

Range  about  those  ivorie  hills 

From  whose  every  part  distils 

Amber-dew  3  there  spices  grow,  15 

There  pure  streams  of  Nectar  flow; 

There  perfume  thyselfe  and  bring 

All  those  sweets  upon  thy  wing  : 

As  thou  return'st,  change  by  thy  power 

Every  weed  into  a  flower ;  20 

Turjpe  each  thistle  to  a  vine. 

Make  the  bramble  eglantine ; 

V.  4.   Cast  it  in  her  snouie  brea.it.']  —Thus  Spenser,  F.  Q.  b. 
iv.  c.  11.  St.  51. 

•'  And  Psamathe,  for  her  broad  moiey  breasts.'^ 


16 

For  so  rich  a  bootie  made^ 

Doe  but  this,  and  I  am  paid. 

Thou  canst  with  thy  powerfull  blast  25 

Heat  apace,  and  coole  as  fast : 

Thou  canst  kindle  hidden  flame. 

And  agen  destroy  the  same : 

Then,  for  pitty,  either  stir 

Up  the  fire  of  love  in  her,  30, 

That  alike  both  flames  may  shine. 

Or  else  quite  extinguish  mine. 


17 


SONG. 

MEDIOCRITY    IN    LOVE   REJECTED. 


Give  me  more  love^  or  more  disdaine, 

The  torrid,  or  rtie  frozen  zone 
Bring  equall  ease  unto  my  paine^ 

The  temperate  affords  me  none : 
Either  extreame,  of  love,  or  hate,  5 

Is  sweeter  than  a  calmc  estate. 

Give  me  a  storme ;  if  it  be  love. 

Like  Dauae  in  that  golden  showre         ,'t\<,.  I 
I  swimmc  in  pleasure;  if  it  prove 

Disdaine,  that  torrent  will  devourc  iO 

My  vulture-hopes;  and  he's  possest 

Of  Heaven,  that's  but  from  Hell  releast : 
Then  crowne  my  joyes,  or  cure  my  paine ; 
Give  me  more  love,  or  more  disdaine. 
c 


18 


SONG. 

GOOD    COUNSEL  TO  A   YOUNG    MAID. 


Gaze  not  on  thy  beauties  pride> 
Tender  maid,  in  the  false  tide 
That  from  lovers  eyes  doth  slide. 

Let  thy  faithful  Chrystall  show. 
How  thy  colours  come  and  goe : 
Beautie  takes  a  foyle  from  woe. 

Love,  that  in  those  smooth  streames  lyes 
Under  pitties  faire  disguise. 
Will  thy  melting  heart  surprize. 


*  10 

* 


19 

Then  beware;  for  those  that  cure 
Love's  disease,  themselves  endure 
For  reward,  a  calenture.  15 

Rather  let  the  lover  pine. 

Than  his  pale  cheeke  should  asslgne 

A  perpetuall  blush  lo  thine. 

V.  15.  a  calenture.y-'A  distemper  peculiar  to  sailors  in  hot 
climates ;  wherein  they  imagine  the  sea  to  be  green  fields, 
and  will  throw  themselves  into  it, — Johnson^s  Diet. 


13  2 


20 

TO  MY  MTSTRIS, 

SITTING   BY   A   RIVER's    SIDE,    AN   EDDY. 


Marke  how  yond  eddy  steales  away 

From  the  rude  streame  hito  the  bay ; 

There  lockt  up  safe,  she  doth  divorce 

Her  waters  from  the  channels  course. 

And  scornes  the  Torrent,  that  did  bring  5 

Her  headlong  from  her  native  spring. 

Now  doth  she  with  her  new  love  play. 

Whilst  hee  runs  murmuring  away. 

Mark  how  shee  courts  the  bankes,  whilst  they 

As  amorously  their  armes  display,  10 

T'  embrace  and  clip  her  silver  waves  : 

See  how  shee  strokes  their  sides,  and  craves 

An  entrance  there,  which  they  deny  j 

Whereat  shee  frownes,  threatning  to  fly 

Home  to  her  streame,  and  'gins  to  swim        15 

Backward,  but  from  the  chanels  brim 


21 

Smiling,  returnes  into  the  crceke. 
With  thousand  dimples  on  her  cheeke. 

Be  thou  this  eddy,  and  I'le  make 
My  breast  thy  shore,  where  thou  shalt  take     20 
Secure  repose,  and  never  dreame 
Of  the  quite  forsaken  streahie  : 
Let  him  to  the  wide  ocean  haste. 
There  lose  his  colour,  name,  and  taste  j 
Thou- shalt  save  all,  and  safe  from  him,  25 

Within  these  armes  for  ever  swim. 

«.  18.  With  thousand  Aimfles  on  ^cr  cheeke.}— Browne,  Brit. 
Past.  s.  V.  V.  135. 

"  And  every  river,  with  unusual  pride 
"  And  dimpled  cheek.'" 

Milton,  Comus,  lig. 

"  By  dimpled  brook  and  fountain  brim." 

Shenstone,  Rural  Elegance, 

*'  For  dimpled  brook  and  leafy  grove." 

Thomson,  Spring,  173. 

"  softly  shaking;  on  Ihedimpled  pool 

*'  Prelusive  drops." 
425.     "  The  d'tapled  water." 

Little's  (Moore)  Poems.    Edit.  1805,  p.  172. 
"  Floating  within  the  dimpled  stream." 


22 
SONG.* 

CONaUEST  BY  FLIGHT. 


Ladies,  fly  from  Love's  smooth  tale, 
Oathes  steep'd  in  teares  do  oft  prevaile; 
Griefe  is  infectious,  and  the  ayre 
Enflam'd  with  sighes  will  blast  the  fayre : 
Then  stop  your  eares,  when  lovers  cry,  5 

Lest  yourselfe  weep,  when  no  soft  eye 
Shall  with  a  sorrowing  teare  repay 
That  pitty  which  you  cast  away. 

Young  men,  fly,  when  beauty  darts 
Amorous  glances  at  your  hearts  :  10 

The  fixt  marke  gives  the  shooter  ayme. 
And  ladies  lookes  have  power  to  mayme  : 

*  The  2d  stanza  of  this  song  is  to  be  found  in  <*  Festum 
Voluptatisj  or  the  Banquet  of  Pleasure,"  by  S  (amuel)  P  (eckc) 
1639,  A°. 


Now  *twixt  their  lips,  now  in  their  eyes, 
Wrapt  in  a  smile,  or  kisse  Love  lies  j 
Then  fly  betimes,  for  only  they  15 

Conquer  love  that  run  away, 


24 
'  SONG. 

TO   MY   INCONSTANT    MISTRIS. 


When  thou,  poor  excommunicate 
From  all  the  joyes  of  love,  shalt  see 

The  full  reward,  and  glorious  fate, 
Which  my  strong  faith  shall  purchase  me. 
Then  curse  thine  owne  inconstancy.  5 

A  fayrer  hand  than  thine,  shall  cure 
That  heart  which  thy  false  oathes  did  wound  j 

And  to  my  soule,  a  soule  more  pure 
Than  thine  shall  by  love's  hand  be  bound. 
And  both  with  equall  glory  crown'd.  10 

V 

Then  shalt  thou  weepe,  entreat,  complaine 
To  Love,  as  I  did  once  to  thee ; 

When  all  thy  teares  shall  be  as  vaine 
As  mine  were  then,  for  thou  shalt  bee 
Damn'd  for  thy  false  Apostasie.  15 


^5 

A  SONG.* 

PERSWASIONS    TO    ENJOY. 


If  the  quick  spirits  in  your  eye 
Now  languish,  and  anon  must  dye ; 
If  every  sweet,  and  every  grace 
Must  fly  from  that  forsaken  face ; 
.         Then  (Celia)  let  us  reape  our  joys,  5 

y        Ere  time  such  goodly  fruit  destroyes. 

r . 

Or,  if  that  golden  fleece  must  grow 
For  ever,  free  from  aged  snow  j 
If  those  bright  suns  must  know  no  shade^ 
Nor  your  fresh  beauties  ever  fade  ;  10 

Then  feare  not  (Celia)  to  bestow 
What  still  being  gather'd  still  must  grow. 
I         Thus,  either  Time  his  sickle  brings 
In  vaine,  or  else  in  vaine  his  wings. 

*  This  mellifluous  Song  has  been  inserted  in  the  elegant 
specimens  of  Doctor  Aikin .     See  his  Essays  on  Song'Writingr, 
I       p.  247,  cd.  1774,     The  Uaincd  Doctor,  liowt\er,  was  igno- 
rant of  t)tc  author. 


M 


INGRATEFUL  BEAUTY  THREATNED. 


Know,  Celia,  (since  thou  art  so  proud) 
'Twas  I  that  gave  thee  thy  renowne : 

Thou  hadst,  in  the  forgotten  crowd 
Of  common  beauties,  liv'd  unknownc. 

Had  not  my  verse  exhal'd  thy  name,  5 

And  with  it  ympt  the  wings  of  Fame. 

V.  6 ympt  the  wings  of  Faw€.]— This  phrase  is  bor- 
rowed from  Falconry.  To  imp  is  to  add  a  new  piece  to  a 
broken  stump.  See  Spenser's  Hymne  of  Heavenly  Beautic, 
V.  134. 

"  Thence  gathering  plumes  of  perfect  speculation 
"  To  vnpe  the  wings  of  thy  high  flying  mynd." 

Spenser,  Faerie  Queene,  b.  iv.  c.  9.  4. 
*'  And,  having  r/wpt  the  head  to  it  egayne." 

Fletcher,  Purp.  Isl.  c.  ist,  24. 

'*  imping  their  flaggy  wing 

"  With  thy  stoln  plumes." 

Milton,  Sonnet  15. 

"  the  false  North  displays 

•'  Her  broken  league  to  imp  their  serpent  wings>'^ 


That  killing  power  is  none  of  thine, 

I  gave  it  to  thy  voyce  and  eyes : 
Thy  sweets,  thy  graces,  all  are  mine; 

Thou  art  my  starre,  shinst  in  my  skies;      10 
Then  dart  not  from  thy  borrowed  sphere 
Lightning  on  him  that  fixt  thee  there. 

Cleavland's  Bebel  Scqt,  v.  29. 

"  Help,  ye  tart  satirists,  to  imp  my  rage, 

*'  With  all  the  scoi-pions  that  should  whip  this  agCt" 

Browne,  Brit.  Past.  b.  i.  s.  2. 

"  a  barren  tree, 

"  Which  when  the  gard'ner  on  it  pains  bestow «, 
*'  To  graft  an  imp  thereon,  in  time  it  grows." 

b.  ii.  s.  2. 

*•  And  when  thy  temple's  well  deserving  bays 
'*  Might  imp  a  pride  in  thee  to  reach  thy  praise." 

Massinger,  Renegado,  act  v.  sc.  3. 

"  to  hup 

"  New  feathers  to  the  broken  nings  of  time." 

Roman  Actur,  act  v.  sc.  2- 

**  Could  I  imp  feathers  to  the  wings  of  time." 

The  Great  Buke  qf  Florence,  acti.  so.  1. 

**  Imp  feathers  to  the  broken  u-ings  of  time.'' 


$8 

> 

Tempt  me  with  such  affrights  no  more. 

Lest  what  I  made,  I  uncreate: 
Let  fooles  thy  mystique  formes  adore,  1 5 

rie  know  thee  in  thy  mortall  state. 
Wise  poets,  that  wrap't  Truth  in  tales. 
Knew  her  thernselves  through  all  her  veiles. 


29 


DISDAINE  RETURNED. 


Hee  that  loves  a  rosie  cheeke. 

Or  a  corall  lip  admires. 
Or  from  star-like  eyes  doth  seeke 

Fuell  to  mantaine  his  fires ; 
As  old  Time  makes  these  decay,  5 

So  his  flames  must  waste  away.  ' 

But  a  smooth,  and  stedfast  mind. 
Gentle  thoughts  and  calme  desires. 

Hearts  with  equal!  love  combind. 

Kindle  never  dying  fires.  10 

Where  these  are  not,  T  despise 

Lovely  checks,  or  lips  or  eyes. 

No  tears,  Celia,  now  shall  win 

My  resolv'd  heart  to  return ; 
I  have  scarcht  thy  soule  within,  15 

And  find  nought,  but  pride,  and  scorne ; 

tj.  3 star-like  eyes.] — Milton,  P.  L.  b  vil.  446, 

has  "  stairy  eyes." 


m 

I  have  learn'd  thy  arts,  and  now 

Can  disdaine  as  much  as  thou.     .   ICT 

Some  power,  in  my  revenge  convey 

That  love  to  her,  I  cast  away.  20 


i  cyui  r,ia  JtJiiiii 


■,i ;/ 


31 

SONG. 

ETERNITY  OF  LOVE  PROTESTED. 


How  ill  doth  he  deserve  a  lover's  name. 

Whose  pale  weak  flame 
Cannot  retaine 

His  heate,  in  spite  of  absence  or  disdaine ; 

But  doth  at  once,  like  paper  set  on  fire,  5 

Burne,  and  expire  ! 

True  love  can  never  change  his  seat. 

Nor  did  he  ever  love  that  could  retreat. 

That  noble  flame,  which  my  brest  keeps  alive. 
Shall  still  survive  10 

When  my  soule's  fled  ; 

Nor  shall  my  love  dye  when  my  bodye's  dead ; 

That  shall  waite  on  me  to  the  lower  shade. 
And  never  fade. 

My  very  ashes  in  their  urne  15 

Shall  like  a  hollow'd  lamp,  for  ever  burne. 


32 


GOOD  COUNSELL  TO  A  YOUNG  MAID. 


When  you  the  Sunrbumt  Pilgrim  see. 

Fainting  with  thirst,  hast  to  the  springs  ; 
Marke  how  at  first  with  bended  knee 

He  courts  the  crystal  Nymphs,  and  flings 
His  body  to  the  earth,  where  he  5 

Prostrate,  adores  the  flowing  Deitie, 
But  when  his  sweaty  face  is  drencht 

In  her  coole  waves,  when  from  her  sweet 
Bosome,  his  burning  thirst  is  quencht ; 

Then  marke  how  with  disdainfull  feet  10 

He  kicks  her  banks,  and  from  the  place 
That  thus  refresht  him,  moves  with  sullen  pace. 
So  shalt  thou  be  despis'd,  faire  Maid, 

When  by  the  sated  Lover  tasted ; 
What  first  he  did  with  teares  invade,  1 5 

Shall  afterwards  with  scorne  be  wasted  ; 
When  all  the  Virgin -springs  grow  dry. 
When  no  streamcs  shall  be  left,  but  in  thine 
eye. 


S3 


SONG. 

TO    ONJ?,    WHO,    WHEN    I    PRAIs'd    MY    MISTRIS 
BEAUTY,    SAID    I    WAS    BLIND. 


Wonder  not  though  I  am  blind. 

For  you  must  be  ; 

Dark  in  your  eyjes,  or  in  your  mind; 

If,  when  you  see 
Her  face,  you  prove  not  bhnd  Uke  me:  5 

If  the  powerful  beames  that  fly 

From  her  eye. 
And  those  amorous  sweets  that  lye 
Scatter'd  in  each  neighbouring  part. 
Find  a  passage  to  your  heart,  10 

Then  you'le  confesse  your  mortal!  sight 
Too  weake  for  such  a  glorious  light: 
For  if  her  graces  you  discover. 
You  grow  like  riie  a  dazel'd  Lover; 
But  if  those  beauties  you  not  spy,  15 

Then  are  you  blinder  farre  then  I. 


34 


SONG 

TO  MY   MISTRIS,   1  BURNING  IN   LOVE, 

I  Bume,  and  cruell  you,  in  vaine, 

Hope  to  quench  me  with  disdaine; 

If  from  your  eyes  those  sparkles  came 

That  have  kindled  all  this  flame. 

What  boots  it  me,  tho'  now  you  shrowd  5 

Those  fierce  comets  in  a  cloud, 

».  5.  What  boots  it  me  ]— To  boot;  profit,  advantage,  as  is 
Shakspeare,  Ant.  ^  Cleop.  act  iv.  sc.  1, 

"  Give  bim  no  breath,  but  now 

*'  Make  boot  of  his  distraction.^ 

Milton,  Sampson  AgonisteSy  56o. 

"  What  boots  it  at  one  gate  to  make  defence, 
"  And  at  another  to  let  in  the  foe." 

Milton,  Lycidas,  64. 

*'■  Alas !  what  boots  it  with  incessant  care 

**  To  tend  the  homely,  slighted,  shepherd's  trade." 

Browne,  Btit.  Past  b.  i.  s.  I. 

"  what  boot 

"  Is  it  to  me  to  pluck  up  by  the  root 

•♦  My  former  love,  and  in  his  place  to  eoir  , 

**  As  ill  a  seed." 


S5 

Since  all  the  flames  that  I  have  felt. 

Could  your  snow  yet  never  melt  ? 

Nor  can  your  snow  (tho'  you  should  take 

Alpes  into  youf  bosome)  slake  lO 

The  heate  of  my  enamour 'd  heart; 

But  with  wonder  learne  Love's  art. 

No  seas  of  yce  can  cool  desire; 

Equall  flames  must  quench  Love's  fire: 

Then  thinke  not  that  my  heart  can  die,  15 

Till  you  bume  as  wel  as  L 


o  s 


36 


i\-J\   'iVfiH  I  1: 


SONG 


TO   HER   AGAINE,    SHE    BURNIN<G.jipi  Af^VERi 


Now  she  burnes  as  well  as  1, 

Yet  my  heat , can  neyer  dycj 

She  burnes  that  never  knew  desire. 

She  that  was  yce,  she  that  was  fire.  4- 

She,  whose  cold  heart  chaste  thoughts  did  arme 

So,  as  Loves  could  never  warme 

The  frozen  bosome  where  it  dwelt; 

She  burnes,  and  all  her  beauties  melt: 

She  burnes,  and  crycs.  Loves  fires  are  mild; 

Feavers  are  Gods — he's  a  child.  10 

Love,  let  her  know  the  difference 

'Twixt  the  heat  of  soule  and  sense; 

Touch  her  with  thy  flames  divine. 

So  shalt  thou  quench  her  fire  and  mine. 


'37 


A  FLY  THAT  FLEW  INTO  MY  MISTRIS 
•  HER  EYE.* 


When  this  fly  liv'd,  she  us'd  to  play 

In  the  sunshine  all  the  day  j  ^ 

^"ill  coming  neere  my  Celia's  sight. 

She  found  a  new  and  unknowne  light. 

So  full  of  glory,  as  it  made  3 

The  nooneday  sun  a  gloomy  shade ; 

TTien  this  amorous  fly  became 

My  rivall,  and  did  court  my  flame, 

She  did  from  hand  to  bosome  skip. 

And  from  her  breath,  her  chceke,  and  lip,      10 

Suck'd  all  the  incense,  and  the  spice. 

And  grew  a  bird  of  Paradise  : 

At  last  into  her  eye  she  flew. 

There  scorcht  in  flames,  and  drown'd  in  dew, 

*  Cleavlaud  bus  closely  imitated  this  poem  iiione  with  the 
same  title.     Sec  Poems,  cd.  1659,  p.  l'i6. 


38 

Like  Phaeton  from  the  sun's  spheare,  15 

She  fell,  and  with  her  dropt  a  teare ; 

Of  which  a  pcarle  was  straight  conipos'd, 

^yhcrein  her  ashes  lye  enclos'd, 

Thus  she  receiv'd  from  Celia's  eye, 

Funerall  flame,  tomb  obsequie.  20 


39 


«ONG. 

CELIA   SINGING. 


You,  that  thinke  Love  can  convey, 

No  other  way 

But  through  the  eyes,  into  the  heart 

His  fatall  dart. 

Close  up  those  casements,  and  but  heare         S 
This  Syren  sing. 
And  on  the  wing 

Of  her  sweet  voyce  it  shall  appeare 

That  Love  can  enter  at  the  eare : 

Then  unvaile  your  eyes,  behold  10 

The  curious  mould 

^here  that  voyce  dwels  j  and  as  we  know. 

When  the  cocks  crow. 

We  freely  may 

Gaze  on  the  day  j       15 

So  may  you,  when  the  musique's  done. 

Awake  and  see  the  rising  Sun. 


m 


BOLDNESSE  IN  LOVE.* 


Mark  how  the  bashful!  morne  in  vaine 

Courts  the  amorous  Marigold 
With  sighing  blasts  and  weeping  raine ; 

Yet  she  refuses  to  unfold  : 
But  when  the  planet  of  the  day  5 

Approacheth  with  his  powerful  1  ray^ 

*  Compare  with  this  little  piece,  the  Sutiflower  and  the  Ivy, 
in  Langhorne's  Fables  of  Flora,  wherein  he  seems  to  have 
imitated  it. 

V.  5.  But  when  the  planet  of  the  day,  &c.] — The  marigold  is 
said  to  open  and  shut  its  leaves  with  the  Sun.  Thus  Browne's 
Brit.  Past.  b.  i.  ».  5. 

"  The  day  is  woxen  olde, 

"  And  gins  to  shut  in  with  the  marigold.^ 

Cleavland's  Poeriis,  16S9,  p.  27. 

*'  The  marigold,  whose  courtiers  face 

"  Echoes  the  Sun,  and  doth  unlace 

"  Her  at  his  rise,  at  his  full  stop 

"  Packs,  and  shuts  up  her  gaudy  shop." 


41 

.  hen  she  spreads,  then  she  receives 

His  warnjer  beames  into  her  virgin' l^ayes. 

So  shalt  thou  thrive  in  love,  fond  boyj 

If  thy  teares  and  sighs  discover  10 

Thy  griefe,  thou  never  shall  enjoy 

The  just  reward  of  a  bold  lover: 

But  \vh(jn  with  moving  accents  thou" 

Shalt  constant  faiih,  and  service  vo\y. 

Thy  Celia  shalt  receive  those  charmes'  IS 

With  open  cares,  and  with  unfolded  armes. 

SliuUspcare,    Winter's  Tale,  act  iv.  sc.  3. 

"  The  marir^olJ,  ilmt  goes  to  bed  with  the  Sun, 
"  Aiii]  with  him  rises  weeping." 

Pv'imv\  Sermon  al  Oxford,   lamo,   ir.88. 

"  No  jiiarii^old  servant  of  Ge\A,  to  open  with  the  Sun^  and 
shut  with  the  dewe.'  ,;> 

I-ord  Howard's  Dc/cn,?a<iie,  1583,  4to. 
"  Tlie  wurigolde  dooth  close  and  open  with  the  Sunne.'''' 

Thomson's  Summer, 

"  But  ore,  the  lofty  follower  of  the  Sun, 
"  Fad  when  he  sets,  shuts  up  her  yellow  leaves 
"  Drooping  all  night ;  and,  when  he  warm  returns, 
"  Points  her  eunroour'<]  bosom  to  his  ray/' 


42 

A  PASTORALL  DIALOGUE.* 

S5HEPHERD,  NIMPHSj  CHORUS. 


SHEPHERD. 

This  mossiebanke  they  prest. — Nim.  That  aged 
oak 
Did  canopie  the  happy  payre 
All  night  from  the  dampe  ayre. 
Cho.    Here  let  us  sit,  and  sing  the  words  they 

spoke. 
Till  the  day  breaking  their  embraces  broke,      5 

SHEPHERD. 

See,  Love,  the  blushes  of  the  mome  appear; 

*  The  conunencement  of  this  dialogue  is  very  cluself 
imitated  from  Shakspeare^s  Ronieo  and  Juliet,  act  iii.  sc.  5. 

t).  6.  See,  Love,  the  blushes  nf  ilieviorne  appear -"^ 

Komeo look,  Love,  what  envious  streaks 

Do  lace  the  severing  clouds  in  yonder  east : 
Night's  candles  are  burnt  out,  and  jocund  day 
Stands  tiptoe  on  the  misty  mountain  tops ; 
I  must  be  gone  and  live,  or  stay  and  die. 


43 

And  now  she  hangs  her  pearly  store 
(Rob'd  from  the  easterne  shore) 

r  th'  couslips  bell  and  roses  rare  ; 

Sweet,  I  must  stay  no  longer  here.  1© 

NIMPH. 

Those  streakes  of  doubtfull  light,  usher  not  day. 
But  shew  my  Sunne  must  setj  no  Morne 
Shall  shine  till  thou  returne: 

The  yellow  Planets,  and  the  gray 

Dawne,  shall  attend  thee  on  thy  way.  15 

f.  6.    Seej  lime,  the  blushes  of  t/ie  mom  appear f 
And  now  she  havt^s  her  jicarly  state 
fUoh'dJroiii  the  eiutteine  shore) 

1' t/i' couslips  bell  and   roses  rare.}— See  Note   ou   the 
Primrose. 

«.  11.   Those  slreakes  of  doubtfull  light,  Ike] 
Juliet.  You  light  is  not  day-light,  1  know  it,  I : 
It  is  some  meteor  that  the  sun  exhnles, 
To  be  to  thee  this  night  u  toich-bearer. 
And  light  thee  on  thy  way  to  Mantua; 
Therefore  stay  yet,  thou  needst  not  to  be  gone. 

I'.  14.  The  yellow  Planets,  atid  the  gray 

Dawne,  shall  attend  thee  on  thy  Jcay.l — The  Rev.  H.  J. 
Todd  has  already,  in  his  exrclh.-nt  edition  of  Milton,  remarked 


lU 


SHEPHERD. 

.nine  eyes  guild  my  patVies,  they 'may  forbear 
Their  uselesse  shine.— Nim.  My  tearcs  wili 
•-  quH^ 

Extinguish  their  faint  light. 
Sh^p.  Those  drops  wiU  make  their  beaqies  more 

cleare. 
Loves  flames  will  shine  in  every  tcare.  20 

'  •'  '  1 1 ', " 

CHOB.US. 

They  kist,  and  wept,  and  from  their  lips,  and 
eyes, 

the  similai-iK  between  these  two  lines  ami  Par,  Lost,  b.  vii. 

"  the  gray 

"  Dawn,  £Uid  the  Pleiades  before  him  danc'tl, 
*'  Shedding  sweet  influence." 

See  also  Lycidas,  v.  187. 

"  the  still  mom  went  out  vtilli  sandalsgroy." 

Clearland's  Poems,   1659,  p.  155. 
"  As  Vaz  gray  morvirsg  dawn'd." 

Dorset's  Induction  to  the  JUTirrbrfdr  Iffaffulrales- 
,    .  ^    ** The, niprroiogratf^' 


In  a  mixt  dew  of  briny  sweet, 

Their  joyes  and  sorrowes  meet ; 
But  she  cryes.  out.— J-NlM.  Shepherd^  arise, 
The  Sun  betray cs  us  else  to  spies. 

SHEPHERD.  _ 

'''■■■•■.  ■■■^■"^ 

The  winged  houres  fly  fast  whilst  we  embrace:,^ 

But  when  we  want  their  helpe  to  meet, 

They  move  witl;i  leaden  feet. 
NiM.  Then  let  us  pjnion  time,  and  chacc 
The  day  for  ever  from  thisj  place.  30, 

SHEPHERD. 

Harke! — Nim.  Ah  me,  stay '.-— Shep.  Forever. 
NiM.  No,  arise ; 
We  must  begone. — Shep.  My  nest  of  spice. 
Nim.  My  soule.— ^Shep.  My  Paradise. 
Cho.  Neither  could   sav  farewell,  but  through 

theic  eves 
Griefe  interrupted  speechwith  tears  supplies. 

V.  26.   T/ie  tctngcd  houres.] — Thus  in  G.  Fletcher's  ChrisCs 
Victory y  st.  22- 

"  Tlie  swift-winged  houis." 

(.  28.   They  move  tcith  /earfcn/et'f.]— Milton.  '^''    •   "" 


46 


RED  AND  WHITE  ROSES.* 


Reade  in  these  Roses  the'  sad  story 

Of  my  hard  fate,  and  your  own  glory. 

In  the  White  you  may  discover 

The  palenesse  of  a  fainting  Lover  j 

In  the  Red,  the  flames  still  feeding  9 

On  my  heart  with  fresh  wounds  bleeding. 

The  White  will  tell  you  how  I  languish 

And  the  Red  expresse  my  anguish: 

The  White  my  innocence  displaying. 

The  Red  my  martyrdome  betraying,  10 

The  frownes  that  on  your  brow  resided. 

Have  those  Roses  thus  divided  ; 

Oh !  let  your  smiles  but  clear  the  weather. 

And  then  they  both  shall  grow  together. 

*  A  learned  friend  has  informed  me  that  this  is  an  lAtitatiott 
of  Bonefouius. 


47 


THE  ENQUIRY. 


Amongst  the  myrtles  as  I  walkt. 
Love  and  my  sighes  thus  intertalkt: 
Tell  me  (said  I,  in  deep  distresse,) 
Where  may  I  find  my  shepherdesse  ? 

Thou  foole  (said  Love),  knowst  thou  oot  this,  5 
In  every  thing  that's  good  she  is  ? 
In  yonder  tuHp,  goe  and  seeke. 
There  maist  find  her  lip,  her  cheeke. 

*  This  piece,  and  the  Primrose,  hare  been  inserted  in 
Herrick's  Hesperides,  1647 ;  and  an  acute  critic  (Doctor 
Drake)  has  contended  for  their  being  his  property.  But  not 
to  argue  on  the  internal  evidence,  it  will  only  be  necessary  to 
consider,  that  both  bad  been  published  as  Carew's,  seven  years 
previous.  Hen-ick  could  not  be  ignorant  of  that  circum* 
stance,  and  therefore  would  have  noticed  it,  had  they  beea 
his  own  productions.  He  probably  only  borrowed  tbcnt — 
no  unusnal  occurrence  in  tliat  a^^e. 


48 

In  yon  enammerd  pansie  by, 

There  thou  shall  have  her  curious  eye.  10 

In  bloome  of  peach,,  in  rosie  bud, 

There  wave  the  streamers  of  her  blood. 

In  brightest  lillies  that  there  stands. 
The  emblems  ojf  her  whiter  hands.  A 

In  yonder  rising  hill  there  smeJs         ,■:  ;u:k  .'AjSII 
Such  sweets  as  in  her  bosome  dwQJs.    . .     f*  '*  ,T 

*Tis  true  (said  I) :  and  thereupon 

I  went,  to  pluck  them  one  by  one. 

To  make  of  parts  a  ijnion ; 

But  on  a  suddaine  ajl  was  gone.  2a 

With  that  I  stopt :  said  Love,  fThescbe  ' 

(Fond  man)  resemblances  of  thee : 

Aildj''Mt'htse  flcivvVes,  "thy'jdyes  ^hall  diie. 

Even  ji(B  the  twinkling  of  an, eye;. 

And  all  th)<'hopes  of  her  shall  wither,         25 
Like  these  shpr(j.^MyegfS;,OiVS,»!R^''  together. 

f.  9.    fn   tfonx-GtamweTd  pansie  by,    &c.] — Thus    Milion, 
Lycida-iy  v.  144. 


49 


THE  PRIMROSE. 


AsKE  me  why  I  send  you  here 
This  firstling  of  the  infant  yeare  j 
Aske  me  why  I  send  to  you 
This  Primrose  all  bepeari'd  with  dew ; 

V.  2.  T/iisJirstling  nf  the  infant  yeare.^ — The  early  birth  and 
short-liv'd  bloom  of  the  primrose  is  a  favorite  subject  with 
our  elder  poets. 

Milton,  Lycidas,  142. 

*'  Bring  the  rathe  primrose  that  foi>sakcn  dies.'* 

Ode  on  the  Death  of  a  fair  Infant,  2. 

*'  Soft  silken  primrose,  fading  timelessly.*' 

Ode  on  May  Mornings  4. 

"  and  the  pale  primrose." 

Sh!ikspeare,  Winter's  Tale,  act  ir.  sc.  5. 

"  pale  primroses 

■'*  That  die  unmarried." 

Cymheline,  act  iv.  sc.  3. 

**  The  flower,  that's  like  thy  face,  pale  primrose." 

0.4 Primrose    all   bepcai'l'd    with    dew.]— Fletcher, 

Piscatory  Eclogues.     E.  vii.  v.  5. 

"  Her  weeping  eyes  in  pearled  dew  she  steeps." 

M 


50 

I  strait  will  whisper  in  your  eares,  5 

The  sweets  of  Love  are  vvasbt  with  teares  r 
Aske  me  why  this  flow'r  doth  show 
So  yellow^  green,  and  sickly  too ', 

Milton,  Par.  Lost,  b.  v.  746. 

"  dew  drops,  which  the  sun 

"  Impearls  on  every  leaf  and  every  fiavcer!* 

Spenser,  Faer.  Q.  b.  iv.  c,  5,  45. 

"  With  pearly  dew  sprinkling  the  morning  grossed" 

Sylvester's  Du  Bartas,  p.  70,  ed.  162 1. 

"  the  flowry  mead$ 

**  ImpearPd  with  tears." 

Drayton,  Sonnet  53.     Poems,  12mo.  (circ  l630). 

"  the  daintie  dew  impearled  Qoviets,'^ 

Browne,  Brit.  Past.  b.  i.  s.  2. 

**  Next  morn  with  pearls  of  dew  bed^xsks  our  plains," 

G.  Fletcher's  Triumph  on  Earth,  st.  42. 

"  theround  sparks  of  dew, 

**  That  hung  upon  their  azure  leaves,  did  show 
*'  Like  twinkling  stars." 

Mason  too  has  "  each  dewy-spangled  Jawret.^ 

Elfrida  in  Poems,  ed.  1770,  p.  78. 

Pope's  Autumn,  Past.  3. 

"  fallinj;  dews  with  spangles  deck'd  the  glade." 


51 

Aske  me  why  the  stalk  is  weak. 

And  bending,  yet  it  doth  not  break ;  10 

I  must  tell  you,  these  discover 

What  doubts  and  fears  are  in  a  Lover, 


X  « 


52 

THE  PROTESTATION. 

A    SONNET. 


No  more  shall  meads  be  deckt  with  flowers, 
Nor  sweetnesse  dwell  in  rosie  bowers; 

V.  1 meads  be  deckt  wit h  ^oJcer*.]— So  Daniel, 

Ode  to  Delia. 

"  the  earth,  oiir  common  mother, 

'*  Hath  her  bosom  deck'd  with  fiow''rs7' 

Spenser,   Prothalamion. 
''  Aud  all  the  meades  adornd  with  daintie  gemmes." 

Ruins  of  Time, 

*'  dtckt  with  daintie ^ouTCJ.*' 

Sylvester's  Bethuluyi^s  Rescue,  in  Poeiiis,  l6/4,  l6mo.  p.  lig. 

"  lu  May,  the  tneads  are  not  so  pt/'d  with  Jaw ers,''  &c. 
Milton,  VAllegro,  75. 

"  Meadows  trim  with  daisies  pied.'" 
Mason's  Elfrida,  Poems,  ed.  1779,  p.  75. 

"  the /Uiw^  bciprinkkd  loxcn" 

Little's  (IMoore)  Poems,  ed.  ist5,  p.  96. 

*'  Yihacftowrtts  dtck  the  greca  earth's  breast." 


53 

Nor  greenest  biids  on  branches  spring. 

Nor  warbling  birds  delight  to  sing ; 

Nor  Aprill  violets  paint  the  grove;  5 

If  I  forsake  my  Celia's  love. 

The  fish  shall  in  the  ocean  burne, 

And  fountaines  sweet  shall  bitter  turne ; 

The  humble  oake  no  flood  shall  know. 

When  floods  shall  highest  hils  oreflow;  10 

Black  Laethe  shall  oblivion  leave; 

If  ere  my  Celia  I  deceive. 

V.  4.    Nor  warbling  birds  delight   to  sing.^ — Pope,    Autunm, 
Past.  3. 

"  The  birds  shall  cease  to  tune  their  evenivg  song, 

*'  The  winds  to  breathe,  the  waving  woods  to  nnove, 

"  And  streams  to  murmur,  ere  I  cease  to  love." 

r.  5.  ^or  ^/>ri/^  violets  paint /Ae^oce.]— Compare  Milton, 
Par.  Lost,  b.  iv.  700. 

"  Under  foot  the  violet, 

**  Crocus,  and  hyacinth,  with  rich  inlay, 
*•  Broider'd  the  ground." 

Comus,  233. 
"  And  in  the  violet-embrmderd  vale.'' 

V.  11.  Black 'Lxthe  shall  oblivion  leaie.}^ Lethe,  well  known 
as  the  river  of  oblirioa  ia  the   Heuthea  Mythology,  has 


54 

Love  shall  his  bow  and  shaft  lay  by. 

And  Venus  Doves  want  wings  to  fly  j 

The  Sun  refuse  to  shew  his  light,  IS 

And  day  shall  then  be  tum'd  to  night, 

And  in  that  night  no  starre  appear  ; 

If  once  I  leave  my  Celia  deare. 

Love  shall  no  more  inhabit  earth. 

Nor  Lovers  more  shall  love  for  worth  j  20 

Nor  joy  above  in  heaven  dwell. 

Nor  paine  torment  poore  soules  in  hell ; 

Grim  death  no  more  shall  horrid  prove ; 

If  ere  I  leave  bright  Celia' s  love.  * 

been   beautifully    described    by   Milton,    Par.   LosU  b.  it. 

583- 

"  a  slow  and  silent  stream 

*'  Lethe,  the  rirer  of  oblivion,  rolls 
*'  Her  watry  labyrinth,  whereof  who  drinks 
**  Forthwith  his  former  state  and  being  forgets, 
**  Forgets  both  joy  and  grief,  pleasure  and  pain." 

*  Thei*e  is  a  great  similarity  between  this  **  Sonnet'*  and  a 
Poem  by  E.  S.  in  The  I'aradise  of  dayntie  Devises,  1576,  p.  46. 
That  part  which  more  immediately  relates  to  the  subject,  I 

extract. 


55 

**  The  grasc  me  thinkes  should  g:rowe  in  skit: 
"  The  starrcs  unto  the  yearth  cleave  faste : 
"  The  water  streame  should  passe  awrie, 
"  The  winds  should  leve  their  stregt  of  blast. 
"  The  Sonne  and  Moone,  by  one  assent, 
"  Should  both  forsake  the  firmament. 

"  The  fishe  in  ayer  should  flie  with  finue, 
**  The  foules  in  floud  should  bryng  forth  fry, 
"  All  thyngs  me  thinks  should  erst  beginne 
"  To  take  their  course  unnaturally  : 
"  Afore  my  frende  should  alter  so, 
"  Without  a  cause  to  bee  my  foe." 

At  p.  62,  a  Poem,  by  M .  Edwaixls. 
**  Tlie  fire  shall  freese,  the  frost  shall  frie,  the  frozen 

mountains  hie; 
"  What  strange  thiugcs  shall  dame  Mature  force  to  tunw 

her  course  awrie. 
"  My  ladie  hath  me  left  and  taken  a  ncwe  man." 


56 


THE  DART. 


Oft  when  I  looke,  I  may  descry 
A  little  face  peepe  through  that  eye ; 
Sure  that's  the  Boy,  which  wisely  chos/s 
His  throne  among  such  beames  as  those. 
Which  if  his  quiver  chance  to  fall. 
May  serve  for  darts  to  kill  withall. 


m 


UPON  A  MOLE  IN  CELIA's  BOSOME. 


That  lovely  spot  which  thou  dost  see 

In  Celia's  bosome,  was  a  Bee, 

Who  built  her  amorous  spicy  nest 

I'  th'  hyblas  of  her  either  breast ; 

But,  from  close  ivery  hyves,  she  flew  i 

To  suck  the  aromatick  dew 

Which  from  the  neighbour  vale  distils. 

Which  parts  those  two  twin  sister  hils ; 

There  feasting  on  arabrosiall  meat, 

A  rowling  file  of  balmy  sweat  10 

(As  in  soft  murmurs,  before  death. 

Swan-like  she  sung)  chokt  up  her  breath, 

V.3 amorous  spicy  nest.] — See  t\ie Pastoral Diaiogutf 

T.  33. 

*'  My  nest  of  spice." 

r.  lit  As  in  sqfl  murmtarSf  before  death 

Swan-like  she  fung."]— Than  Gorges'  Sonnet  in  TodcTl 
^fe  qf  Spenser,  p.  89. 

*'  So  BJDgs  the  swann,  when  life  is  taking  flight." 


58 

So  she  in  water  did  expire. 

More  precious  than  the  Phoenix  fire ; 

Yet  still  her  shaddow  there  remaines  15 

Confind  to  those  Elyzian  plaines ; 

With  this  strict  law,  that  who  shall  lay 

His  bold  lips  on  that  milky  way. 

The  sweet  and  smart,  from  thence  shall  bring 

Of  the  Bees  honey  and  her  sting.  20 

'  Browne,  Brit.  Past',  b.  ii.  s.  5. 

"  as  a  dying  swan  that  sadly  sings 

"  Her  moaneful  dirge  unto  the  silver  springs." 

Poems  to  the  Memory  qf  Ethn,  Waller,  Esq,  l68S. 

**  Now,  in  soft  notes,  like  dying  swans,  he'd  sing." 

P,  Fletcher's  Purple  Island,  c.  i .  st.  30. 

"  The  dying  swan,  when  years  her  temples  pierce, 
*'  In  music's  strains  hreathes  out  her  life  and  rerse, 
"  And  chanting  her  own  dirge,  tides  on  her  wdtry  herM.^' 

G.  Fletcher's  Triumph  over  Death,  st.  1. 
**  So  down  the  silver  streams  of  Eridan, 
"  On  eitlier  side  bankt  with  a  lily  wall, 
*'  Whiter  than  both,  rides  the  triumphant  5Wan, 
"  And  sings  his  dirge,  and  prophecies  his  fall, 
,';::    •*  Diviijg  into  his  watry  faneral." 

Spenser's  Elegy  on  Sir  Philip  Sidney. 
"  The  svsa  that  siogs  about  to  die." 


Bescrtpttbe. 


^^ccijrtitje. 


THE  SPRING. 


Now  that  the  winter's  gone,  the  earth  hath  lost 
Her  snow-white  robes,  and  now  no  more  the 

frost 
Candies  the  grass,  or  casts  an  icy  cream 
Upon  the  silver  lake,  or  chrystal  stream  :         4 

V.  1.  Now  that  the  winter's  gotUf  &c.] — Spenser's  Shepherd's 
Cal.  March. 

"  pleasant  Spring  appeareth, 

"  The  grasse  now  gins  to  be  rcfresht : 
"  The  swallow  peeps  out  of  her  nest." 

v,2 and  now  no  more  the  frost 

Candies  the  grass.]— This  beautiful  idea  seems  closely 
imitated  from  Draytou.  See  his  Quest  qf  Cynthia,  iu  poems, 
4to.  1627,  P-  137. 

'*  Since  when  those  frostt  that  winter  brings^ 
Which  candy  every  greer^e-" 

Compare  also  Browne's  Brit.  Past.  b.  i.  s.  4. 
"  And  hoaried yroff J  had  candied  all  the  plaint." 


62 

But  the  warm  Sun  thaws  the  benummed  earth. 
And  makes  it  tender,  gives  a  sacred  birth 
To  the  dead  swallow,  wakes  in  hollow  tree 
The  drowsy  cuckow  and  the  humble  bee. 
^ow  do  a  quire  of  chirping  minstrels  bring 
In  triumph  to  the  world,  the  youthful  spring  j   10 
The  vallies,  hills,  and  woods,   in  rich  array. 
Welcome  the  coming  of  the  long'd-for  May. 

«■  11.   TVie  vallies,  bills,  andvrooda,  in  richartcu/, 

Welcome  the  coming  of  the  long'd-for  May.] — Tbus 
Chaucer,  Knight'' s  Tale,  v.  1511. 

"  O  Maye,  with  all  thy  flourcs  and  thy  grenty 
"  Right  tt'e/cowie  be  thou,  faire  frcshe  May.'^ 

Milton,  Ode  on  May  Morning,  3. 

**  The  ^owery  May,  who  from  her  green  lap  throws 
"  The  yellow  cowslip  and  the  pale  primrose." 


V.  5. 

"  Hail,  bounteons  May,  that  dost  inspire 
•*  Mirth,  and  youth,  and  warm  desire ; 
"  TVoods  and  groves  are  of  thy  dressings, 
"  Hill,  and  dale,  doth  boast  thy  blessing  !" 

Spenser,  Faerie  Queene,  h.vM.CJ,  34.    . 
"  Then  came  faire  May,  tlie  fayrest  Mayd  on  groam), 
"  Deckt  all  with  dainties  of  her  seasons  pryde, 
*'  And  throwing  JlQwres  out  of  her  lap  around." 


63 

Now  all  things  siolle;  only  my  Love  doth  low'r: 
Nor  hath  the  scalding  noon-day-sun  the  pow'r 
To  melt  that  marble  ice,  which  still  doth  hold  15 
Her  heart  congeal'd,  and  makes  her  pity  cold. 
The  ox,  which  lately  did  for  shelter  fly 
Into  the  stall,  doth  now  securely  lie 
In  open  fields  :  and  love  no  more  is  made 
By  the  fire-side ;  but  in  the  cooler  shade        20 
Amyntas  now  doth  with  his  Chloris  sleep 
Under  a  sycamore,  and  all  things  keep 
Time  with  the  season ;  only  she  doth  carry 
June  in  her  eyes,  in  her  heart  January. 

But  more  especially  consult  The  Paradise  of  dayntle  Deviser 
Isted.  1576;  of  which  collection  the  second  poem  is  •' il/, 
Edwardes  May"  and  in  the  edit,  of  1580,  there  is  "  A  Replit 
to  M.  Edwards  May,"  by  M.  S.  [Sackviile.] 

Dolamt/'s  Prmrose,  by  John  Reynolds,  4to.  1606. 
"  When  jffowring  May  had,  with  her  morning  deawcs. 
"  Watred  the  meadowes  and  the  valliei  greene, 
*♦  The  tender  lambcs  with  nimble  footed  eawes, 
"  Came  forth  to  meete  the  wanton  Sommcrs  queene. 
•*  The  lively  kidds  came  with  the  little  fawncs, 
**  Tripping  with  speed  ©vcp  the  pleasant  lawnes,"  &cV 


64 


TO  SAXHAM. 


Though  frost  and  snow  lockt  from  mine  eye* 

That  beauty  which  without  dore  lyes ; 

The  gardens,  orchards,  walkes,  that  so 

I  might  not  all  thy  pleasures  know ; 

Yet  (Saxham)  thou,  within  thy  gate,  ^ 

Art  of  thy  selfe  so  delicate. 

So  full  of  native  sweets,  that  bless 

Thy  roofe  with  inward  happinesse; 

As  neither  from,  nor  to  thy  store. 

Wilder  takes  ought,  or  Spring  adds  more.      10 

The  cold  and  frozen  ayre  had  sterv'd 

Much  poore,  if  not  by  thee  preserv'd  ; 

Whose  prayers  have  niade  thy  Table  blest 

With  plenty,  far  above  the  rest. 

The  season  hardly  did  afford  15 

Coarse  cates  unto  thy  neighbour's  board, 

».  16.   Coarse  cates  unto  thy  Tieighbour'f  board.'}  —  Cates  is  here 
vsed,  in  au  enlarged  sense,  for  food  j  but  it  generally  implie* 


65 

Yet  thou  hadst  daintieB,  as  the  sky 

Had  only  been  thy  volarie  j 

Or  else  the  birds,  fearing  the  snow. 

Might  to  another  deluge  grow,  20 

The  Pheasant,  Partridge,  and  the  Larke, 

Flew  to  thy  house,  &s  to  the  Arko. 

The  wiljing  Oxa  of  himself  caine 

Home  to  the  slaughter,  with  the  J^arnbCi 

And  every  beast  did  thither  briog  93 

Himseife  to  be  an  offering, 

The  scalie  herd  more  pleasjwr^  tool^p, 

Bath'd  ia  thy  dish,  then  m  the  brooke. 

Water,  Earth,  Ayre,  did  all  conspire 

To  pay  their  tributes  to  thy  fire  J  30 

Whose  cherishing  flames  ihefflBelves  divide 

Thro'  every  roome,  where  they  deride 

The  night,  and  cold  abroad  ;  whilst  they 

Like  Suns  within,  keep  endlesse  day. 

that  kind  ««ly  of  s  luKuriou?  iiatui«,  as  in  I^Iiltoii,  Par. 

Reg.  h.  ii-  348. 

**  AIm!  liOMT  siiuplc,  to  tlve«c  p^es  .conip^''i!, 
**  Was  that  crude  apple  that  ilivcrted  Evp." 


66 

Those  chcarfull  beames  send  forth  their  hght,   35 

To  all  that  wander  in  the  night. 

And  seeme  to  beckon  from  aloofe 

The  weary  Pilgrim  to  thy  roofe ; 

Where,  if  refresht,  he  will  away. 

He's  fairly  welcome ;  or,  if  stay,  40 

Farre  more,  which  he  shall  hearty  find. 

Both  from  the  Master  and  the  Hinde. 

The  stranger's  welcome  each  man  there 

Stamp'd  on  his  chcarfull  brow  doth  weare ; 

Nor  doth  this  welcome,  or  his  cheere,  45 

Grow  less,  'cause  he  stayes  longer  here. 

There's  none  observes  (much  less  repines) 

How  often  this  man  sups  or  dines. 

Thou  hast  no  porter  at  the  doore 

T'  examine  or  keepe  back  the  poore ;  50 

».  49 and  the  Hinde.] — Hind  formerly  was 

the  term  for  a  servant,  as  in  Sbakspeare's  Merry  Wives  qf 
Windsor,  act  iii-  sc.  5,  "  A  couple  of  Ford's  knaves,  his 
hinds,  were  called  forth  by  their  mistress,  to  carry  me  in  the 
name  of  foul  clothes  to  Datchet-lane." — It  is  derived  from 
the  Saxon  hine,  famulus,  sercus.  Douglas'  Virgii.  Hynis, 
hinds,  servants^  &c. 


67 

Nor  locks  nor  bolts;  thy  gates  have  beene 

Made  only  to  let  strangers  in ; 

Untaught  to  shut,  thej  do  not  feare 

To  stand  wide  open  all  the  yeare ; 

Carelesse  who  enters,  for  they  know  55 

Thou  never  didst  deserve  a  foe ; 

And  as  for  theeves,  thy  bountie's  such. 

They  cannot  steale^  thou  giv'st  so  much. 


F  2 


6& 


TO  MY  FRIEND  G.  N.  FROM  WREST 


I  BREATHE  (swect  Ghib)  the  temperate  ayre  of 

Wrest, 
Where  I  lio  more  with  raging  stormes  opprestj 
Weare  the  cold  nights  out   by  the  banke  of 

Tweed, 
On  the  bleake  mountains  where  fierce  tempests 

breed. 
And  everlasting  Winter  dwels;  where  milde     5 
Favonius,  and  the  Vernall  winds,  exil'd. 
Did  never  spread  their  wings;    but   the   wild 

North 
Brings  sterill  Fearne,   Thistles,    and  Brambles 

forth. 
Here,  steep'd  in  balmy  dew,  the  pregnant  earth 
Sends  from  her  teeming  wombe  a  flowrie  birth ; 
And  cherisht  with  the  warme  Suns  quickning 

hcate,  1 1 

Her  porous  bosome  doth  rich  odours  sweat; 


69 

Whose  perfumes  through  the  ambient  ayre  diffuse 

Such  native  aromatiques,  as  we  use 

No  forraigne  gums,    nor  essence   fetcht   from 

farre,  1 5 

No  volatile  spirits,  nor  compounds  that  are 
Adulterate  ;  but,  at  Natures  cheape  expence. 
With  farre   more   genuine   sweets   refresh   the 

sense. 
Such  pure  and  uncompounded  beauties,  bless 
This  mansion  with  an  usefuil  comclinesse       20 
Devoid  of  art ;  for  here  the  architect 
Did  not  with  curious  skill  a  pile  erect 
Of  carved  marble,  touch,  or  porphyry. 
But  built  a  house  for  hospitality.  24 

No  sumptuous  chinmey-peece  of  shining  stone 
Invites  the  strangers  eye  to  gaze  upon, 
And  coldly  entertaines  his  sight ;  but  clcare 
And  checrfull  flames,  cherish  and  warmc  him 

here. 

*•  15 ainbient  at/re-'\ — ^Thus  Milton,  Par.  Lost, 

h.  vij.  89. 

*'  the  ambient  ah  w  idc  i  atcrfus^d 

"  Embracing  rouud  thisilurid  caith." 


7# 

No  Dorique,  nor  Corinthian  pillars  grace 
"With  Imagery  this  structures  naked  face  :       30 
The  Lord  and  Lady  of  this  place  delight 
Rather  to  be  in  act,  than  seeme,  in  sight. 
Instead  of  Statues  to  adorne  their  Wall, 
They  throng  with  living  men  their  merry  hall. 
Where,    at  large   tables    fill'd   with  wholsome 

meats,  -^Pfus      35 

The  servant,  tenant,  and  kind  neighbour  eats : 
Some  of  that  ranke,  spun  of  a  finer  thread, 
Are  with  the  women,  steward,  and   chaplaine 

fed 
With  daintier  cates ;  others  of  better  note. 
Whom  wealth,  parts,  office,  or  the  heralds  coat 
Have  sever'd  from  the  common,  freely  sit      40 
At  the  Lords  table,  whose  spread  sides  admit 
A  large  acresse  of  friends  to  fill  those  seats 
Of  his  capacious  sickle,  fill'd  with  meats 

t.44 Jiirdwilh  meats 

Of  choycest  relish,  till  his  oaken  back 
Under  the  load  o,/"  pil'd-up  dishes  crack.'] — Compare 
]Miltou,  Par.  Reg.  b.  ii.  341. 

"  With  dishes pil'dy  aud  meats  of  nMest  sort 
"  And  savour.^' 


71 

Of  choycest  relish,  till  his  oaken  back  45 

Under  the  load  of  pil'd-up  dishes  crack. 
Nor  think,  because  our  piramids,  and  high 
Exalted  turrets  threaten  not  the  sky. 
That  therefore  Wrest  of  narrownesse  complaines. 
Or  streightned  walls;  for  she  more  numerous 

trains  50 

Of  noble  guests  daily  receives,  and  those 
Can  with  farre  more  conveniencie  dispose. 
Than   prouder   piles,    where  the  vaine  -builder 

spent 
More  cost  in  outward  gay  embellishment 
Than  reall  use ;  which  was  the  sole  designc    55 
Of  our  contriver,  who  made  things  not  fine. 
But  fit  for  service.     Amallhea's  home 
Of  plenty  is  not  in  effigic  worne 

V.  57 Amaltheashorne 

Of  plenty ] — Amalthea,  in  tli© 

Heathen  Mythology,  is  the  daughter  of  Melissux,  King  of 
Crcie,  and  nurse  of  Jupiter,  from  whom  she  received  a  goat's 
horn,  whicli  had  (he  power  of  supplying  her  wishes,  and 
from  thence  called  Cornucopia^  or  horn  of  plenty  (sec  Orid). 
Thus  Milton,  Par.  Reg.  ii.  356. 

'*  Fruits  and  flowers  from  Amalthea*8  hora." 


72 

Without  the  gate,  but  she  within  the  (lore 
Empties  her  free  and  unexhausted  store  J         60 
Nor  crown 'd  with  wheaten  wreathe*  doth  Ceres 

stand 
In  stone,  with  a  crook'd  sickle  in  her  hand  : 
Nor  on  a  marble  tunnc,  his  face  besmear'd 
With  grapes,  is  curl'd  uncizard  Bacchus  rear'd. 
Wc  offer  not  in  emblemes,  to  the  eyes,  6J 

But  to  the  taste  those  useful  deities  : 
We  prcsse  the  juicie  God,  and  quafFe  his  blood, 
And  grind  the  yellow  Gocklesse  into  food. 
Yet  we  decline  not  all  the  vrorke  of  Art ;        69 
JBut  where  more  bounteous  Nature  bears  a  part, 

r.  6l.   Ceres.] — Ceres,  in  the  Heathen  Mythology,  is  tb«t^ 
Gotldcsa  of  corn  and  harvests. 

f.  64 atrrd  uncizard  Bacchus']  — Vncixard,  pro» 

hably,  is  the  old  orthography  for  unschsar'ti,  and  rlerived  from 
the  Latin,  inc'uloy  to  cut  oft".  The  same  word  is  to  he  found 
tit  his  Elegy  on  Br.  Donne,  v.  5. 

"  Such  as  th'  uncieard  lectrtr  ft'om  the  Sovi^tr 
"  Of  fading  rhetorick." 

t'.  Gs theyellow  Goddesse.^  —  Cevea  has  geucral(.j 

the  epithet  of  yeiUtw,  in  allusioa  to  ripe  CQrn. 


73 

And  guides  her  handmaid,  if  she  but  dispence 
Fit  matter,  she  with  car^  and  diligence 
Employes  her  skill  j    for  where  the  neighbour 

sourse 
Powers  forth  her  waters,  she  directs  her  course^ 
And  entertaines  the  flowing  streames  in  deepe  75 
And  spacious  channels,  where  they  slowly  creepa 
In  snaky  windings,  as  the  shelving  ground 
Leads  them  in  circles,  till  they  twice  surround 
This  island  Mansion,  which,  i*  th'  centre  plac'd. 
Is  with  a  double  Crystal  heaven  embrac'dj     60 
In  which  our  watery  constellations  floate. 
Our  fishes,  swans,  our  waterman  and  boat, 

».  74 she  directs  her  course. 

And  entertaines  thejloiciug  streames  in  decpe 
And  spacious  channels,  ivkerc  they  slowli/  creepe 
In  tnaki/  vcindimis,  as  the  shelving  ground 
Lends  them  in  circles,  till  they  tuice  surrmnd 

This  island  Mansion ...]— P.  rietchcr"* 

Purple  Island,  c.  ii.  st.  9. 

..• "  for  tbnnsand  brooks 

*'  In  uure  channels  glide  on  silver  sand 

"  Their  serpent  windings,  and  deceiving  crook* 

**  Circling  afumty  vaA  watering  all  the  plain." 


74 

Envy'd  by  those  above,  which  wish  to  slake 
Their  starre-burnt  limbs  in  our  refreshing  lake ; 
But  they  stick  fast,  nayled  to  the  barren  sphcare. 
Whilst  our  encrease  in  fertile  waters  here        86 
Disport,  and  wander  freely  where  they  please 
Within  the  circuit  of  our  narrow  seas. 
With  various  trees  we  fringe  the  water's  brinke. 
Whose  thirsty  roots  the  soaking  moysture  drinke. 
And  whose  extended  boughes  in  equal  rankes  91 
Yield  fruit,  and  shade,  and  beauty  to  the  banks. 
On  this  side  young  Vertumnus  sits,   and  courts 
His  ruddy-cheek'd  Pomona  ;  Zephyre  sports 

».  93.  On  this  side  young  ycrlamaus,  &c]— Vertumnus  was 
the  God  of  tradesmen,  and  had  the  power  of  taking  any 
shape.  His  courtship  of  Pomona  forms  one  of  Ovid's  Hfet. 
In  the  disguise  of  an  old  woman,  he  visited  her  gardens,  and, 
after  artfully  praising  the  fruit,  insinuated  the  pleasure  of  a 
married  life.  Pomona  heard  hira  with  indifference,  having 
already  refused  Pan,  Priapus,  and  Silenus ;  but  when  Ver- 
tumuuB  assumed  the  appearance  of  youth,  the  Goddess  could 
no  longer  i-esist  the  beauties  of  his  person.  — Zephyr,  the  son 
of  Aurora,  is  represented  as  presiding  over  fruits  and  flowers, 
and  married  Flora,  the  Goddess  of  flowers;  thus  alluded  to 
by  Milton,  Par,  Lost,  h.r.  16. 

"  Mild  as  when  Zephyrus  on  Flora  breathes," 
Lycidas,  19. 

**  Zephyr  with  Aurora  playing." 


73 

On  th'  other,  with  lov'd  Flora,  yeelding  there  95 
Sweets  for  the  smell,  sweets  for  the  palate  here. 
But  did  you  taste  the  high  and  mighty  drinke 
Which  from  that  fountaine  flows,  yould  thinke 
The  God  of  wine  did  his  plumpe  clusters  bring. 
And  crush  the  Faleme  grape  into  our  spring; 
Or  else,  disguis'd  in  watery  robes  did  swim  101 
To  Ceres  bed,  and  make  her  big  of  him. 
Begetting  so  himselfe  on  her  :  for  know 
Our  vintage  here  in  March  doth  nothing  owe 
To  theirs  in  Autumne ;  but  our  fire  boyles  here 
As  lusty  liquor  as  the  sun  makes  there.         106 
Thus  I  enjoy  myselfe,  and  taste  the  fruit 
Of  this  blest  place  ;  whilst,  toyl'd  in  the  pursuit 
Of  bucks  and  stags,  th'  embleme  of  warre  you 

strive 
To  keepe  the  memory  of  our  armes  alive.     IIQ. 


Clesiac, 


oJIfjiac. 


EPITAPH  ON  THE  LADY  MARY  VILLERS.* 


The  Lady  Mary  Villers  lies 

Under  this  stone  :  with  weeping  eyes 

TTie  parents  that  first  gave  her  birth 

And  their  sad  friends,  lay'd  her  in  earth. 

If  any  of  them  (Reader)  were  5 

Knowne  unto  thee,  shed  a  teare,  ■ 

Or  if  thyselfc  possesse  a  gemrae. 

As  dearc  to  thee  as  this  to  them  j 

Though  a  stranger  to  this  place, 

Bewayle  in  theirs,  thine  own  hard  case ;         10 

For  thou  perhaps  at  thy  returne 

Maycst  find  thy  darling  in  an  ume. 

*  In  his  epitaph  on  Lady  Mary  VtUers^  be  is  eminently 
pathetic. — Anderson. 


80 


ANOTHER, 


*Fhis^  little  vault,  this  narrow  roome,    •  ^.TlS^i 
Of  Love  and  Beauty  is  the  tombe ; 
The  dawning  beame,  that  gan  to  cleare 
Our  clouded  sky,  lyes  darkened  here. 
For  ever  set  to  us  by  death:    '    •''^'•''''  ^'"'  5 

Sent  to  inflame  the  world  beneath ;  ^^o^i'^  ^^'"^ 
^Twas  but  ai  b\id,  yet  did  contains 
^ore  sweetnesse  thai!  shall  spring  againej 
A  budding  Stafre,  that  might  have  growric     *' 
Into  a  Sun,  when  it  had  blowne :    '  -  ("^  ^'  t6 
This  hopeful]  Beauty  did  create         "^  ''^^^^'  ''^ 
New  life  in  Love's  declining  state  3  '  " 

But  now  his  empire  ends,  and  ^*e  "  ''* 
From  fire  and  wounding  darts  are  frefe;'^*'  '  '    ' 
His  briind,  his  bow,  let  no  man  feare;  15 

The  flames,  the  arrovi'cs,  all  lye  here. 


epistolatp. 


^(:':r;*';'r-"Tr ''''■■ 


4Sjii,$toIatp» 


UPON  MASTER  W.  MOUNTAGUE  HIS 
RETURNE  FROM  TRAY  ELL. 


Leade  the  black  bull  to  slaughter,  with  the  bore 
And  lambe,  then  purple  with  their  nungled  gore 
The  oceans  curled  brow,  that  so  we  may 
The  Sea- Gods  for  their  careful  wastage  pay : 
Send  grateful  Incense  up  in  pious  smoake         5 
To  those  mild  Spirits  that  cast  a  curbing  yoake 
Upon  the  stubbornc  winds,  that  calmely  blew 
To  the  wisht  shore  our  long'd-for  Mountague. 
Then,  whilst  the  Aromatique  odours  bume 
In  honour  of  their  Darlings  safe  returne,         10 

V.  3.  The  oceans  curled  6r«c.]— So  Browne's  Brit.  Past.  b.  i, 
8.  5. 

"  curled  stream.^' 

G   2 


84 

The  Muse's  quire  shall  thus  with  voyce  and  hand 

Bless  the  faire  gale  that  drove  his  ship  to  land. 
Sweetly-breathing  vemall  Ayre, 
That  with  kind  warmth  doest  repayre 
Winter's  ruines;  from  whose  breast        15 
All  the  gums  and  spice  of  th'  East 
Borrow  their  perfumes  ;  whose  eye 
Guilds  the  morn,  and  cleares  the  sky ; 
Whose  dishevel'd  tresses  shed 

Lfoii  Pearles  upon  the  violet  bed ;  20 

oioy  tfji  < 

V  13.  Sweetly -breathing  vemall  Ayre, 

That  with  kind  warmthy  &c.] — Compare  Milton,  Par, 
Lost,  b.  iv.  156. 

i.. ......'. "  Now  gentle  gales, 

"  Fanning  their  odoriferous  wings,  dispense 

"  Native  perfumes,  and  whisper  whence  they  stole 

"Those  balmy  spoils." 

.'^;..'i..u......  I.  264. 

"  airs,  vernal  airs, 

"  Breathing  the  smell  of  field  and  grove." 

v..  18.   Gnildi  the  mom.} — ^Thus  Pope's  il/cswa/;,  v.  99. 
"  No  more  the  rising  Sun  shall  gild  the  wjor«." 

V.  20.    Pearles  upon  the  violet  W.]— See  Note  on  "  The 

Primrose,''* 


85 

On  whose  brow,  with  cahne  smiles  tlrest, 
The  Halcion  sits  and  builds  her  nest; 
Beauty,  Youth,  and  endlesse  Spring, 
Dwell  upon  thy  rosie  wing. 
Thou,  if  stormy  Boreas  throwes  25 

Dounc  whole  Forrcsts  when  he  blowes, 

V.  21.  On  whose  brow,  with  calme  smiles  drest, 

T/ie  Halcion  sits  and  builds  her  nest."] — So  in  Browne's 
Brit,  Past.  b.  ii.  s.  I. 

'*  As  smooth  as  when  the  Halcyon  builds  her  nest." 

The  best  account  of  this  popular  belief  respecting  the 
King  Fisher,  that  I  have  ever  redde  in  any  old  work,  I  here 
extract  from  Mclanchtoh's  Dedicator;/  Epistle  to  the  Duke  of 
Savoy,  prefixed  to  Joyc's  Exposicion  qf' Daniel  the  Prophetc,  ist 
edit.  Geneve,  1545. 

"  For  thci  sayc  that  in  the  most  sharpe  and  coldest  tymc 
of  the  yere,  these  haicions  making  their  nestis  in  the  sea 
rockis  or  sandis,  will  sittc  their  egges  and  hatche  forth  their 
chikens.  And  therfore  the  same  sea  that  harbourcth  these 
fowles  thus  sitting  vpon  their  eggcs,  wil  be  so  cawmc  and 
still  to  her  geistis  for  14  daycs,  that  men  may  scworly  sayl 
without  perel  vpon  her,  not  shaken  nor  molested  with  any 
storme  or  tempeste,  nor  yet  the  nestis  of  theis  birdcs  so 
nighe  the  water  not  once  shaken  nor  hurt  with  any  sourges. 
For  the  seas  wil  not  for  that  tyme  of  these  birdis  sitting  and 
hatching,  decease  her  geistis.  And  therfore  is  this  tran- 
quilitc  of  the  sea  for  that  litle  tyme  as  a  trwce  taking  in  the 
winter,  called  the  haicions  dayes  " 


86 

With  a  pregnant  flowery  birth 

Canst  refresh  the  teeming  earth : 

If  he  nip  the  early  bud,    .    .    . 

If  he  blast  what's  fayre  or  good,  30 

If  hee  scatter  our  choyce  flowers. 

If  he  shake  our  hils  or  bowers. 

If  his  rude  breath  threaten  us ; 

Thou  canst  stroake  great  ^olus. 

And  from  him  the  grace  obtaine  35 

To  bind  him  in  an  iron  chaine. 

Thus,  whilst  you  deale  your  body  'mongst  your 
friends. 

And  fill  their  circling  armes,  my  glad  soule  sends 

This  her  embrace  :  thus  wee  of  Delphos  greet; 

As  lay-men  clasp   their  hands,  we  joyne  our 
'  feet.  40 

e.  34 stroake  great  JEolus.] — Stroake,  to  sootli, 

as  in  Bacon's  Henry  Tth;  Works,  ed.  1765,  vol.  iii.  p,  85, 
•*  There  he  set  forth  a  new  proclamation,  stroking  the  people 
with  fair  promises." 


87 

TO    MY   WORTHY    FRIEND, 

MASTER  GEORGE  SANDS,* 

ON   HIS    TRANSLATION    OF   THE   PSALMS. 


> 


I  PRESSE  not  to  the  quire,  nor  dare  1  greet 
The  holy  place  with  my  unhallowed  feet ; 
My  unvvasht  Muse  polutes  not  things  divine. 
Nor  mingles  her  prophaner  notes  with  thine  : 
Here,  humbly  at  the  porch  she  stayes,  5 

And  with  glad  eares  sucks  in  thy  sacred  layes. 

*  George  Sandys  whs  born  at  Bishop's  Thorp  in  1577,  the 
son  of  F.dwin,  Archbishop  of  York.  He  entered  himself  at 
Mary  Hall,  Oxon,  1589,  but  received  tuition  at  Corpus 
Christi  College,  Cambridge.  In  16 10  he  began  his  travels 
in  the  East,  of  which  an  account  was  published  in  j6lO, 
Bo  much  esteemed,  that  it  passed  through  a  number  of 
editions.  On  his  return,  he  was  appointed  Gentleman  of  the 
Privy  Chaml>er  to  Charles  I.  and  died  in  l643. 

He  translated  the  Psalms  of  David,  1636,  12mo. ;  Grotius' 
Christ's  Passion,  ]640;  Job,  Ecclcsiustrs,  and  Lamentations, 
1638,  folio,  and  1676,  8vo. ;  Solomon's  Song,  1G41,  4to. ; 
and  Ovid's  Metamorphoses,  with  1st  book  of  Virgil's ^ncidj 
Dryden  esteemed  him  the  most  harmonious  writer  of  the  age. 


88 

So,  devout  penitents  of  old  were  wont_, 
Some  without  doore,  and  some  beneath  the  font. 
To  stand  and  heare  the  churches  liturgies. 
Yet  not  assist  the  solemne  exercise :  10 

Sufficeth  her,  that  she  a  lay-place  gaine. 
To  trim  thy  vestments,  or  but  beare  thy  traine; 
Though  nor  in  tune,  nor  wing,  she  reach  thy 
:  V  larke,  /  ■,:*  ^p,^,mrt',  I 

Her  lyrick-feet  may  dance  before  the  Arke, 
Who  knowes,  but  that  her  wandring  eyes  that 

run,  1 5 

Now  hunting  glow-wormes,  may  adore  the  Sun : 
A  pure  flame  may,  shot  by  Almighty  power 
Into  her  brest,  the  earthy  flame  devoure  : 
My  eyes  in  penitentiall  dew  may  steepe 
That  brine,  which  they  for  sensuall  love  did 

weepe.  ,  20 

So  (though  'gainst  Natures  course)   fire  may  be 

quencht 
With  fire,  and  water  be  with  water  drencht ; 
Perhaps  my  restlesse  soule,  tyr'de  with  pursuit 
Of  mortall  beauty,  seeking  without  fruit        24 


89 

Contentment    there,    which   hath   not,    when 

enjoy 'd, 
Quencht   all  her  thirst,   nor  satisfi'd,    though 

cloy'd ; 
Weary  of  her  vaine  search  below,  above 
In  the  first  Faire  may  find  th'  immortal  love. 
Prompted  by  thy  example  then,  no  more 
.  In  moulds  of  clay  will  I  my  God  adore ;        30 
But  teare  those  idols  from  my  heart,  and  write 
What  his  blest  Spirit,  not  fond  Love,  shall  indite  j 
Then  I  no  more  shall  court  the  verdant  Bay, 
But  the  dry  leavelesse  trunke  on  Golgotha; 
And    rather   strive   to   gaine  from  thence  one 

thorne,  35 

Than  all  the  flourishing  wreathes  by  Laureatsi 

worne. 


90 


TO    MY    LORP    ADMIRALL  *,    ON    HIS 
LATE  SICKNESSE  AND  RECOVERY. 


With  joy  like  ours,  the  Thracian  youth  Invades 
Orpheus,  returning  from  th'  Elysian  shades. 
Embrace  the  heroe,  and  his  stay  implore. 
Make  it  their  publike  suit  he  would  no  more 
Desert  them  so,  and  for  his  spouses  sake,         5 
His  vanish 'd  love,  tempt  the  Lethaean  lake  : 
The  ladies  too,  the  brightest  of  that  time. 
Ambitious  all  his  lofty  bed  to  climbe. 
Their  doubtfull  hopes  with  expectation  feed. 
Which  shall  the  fair  Euridice  succeed  ;  10 

Euridice,  for  whom  his  numerous  moan 
Makes   listning   trees  and    savage    mountaines 
groane 

*  George  Villicrs,  DuIjc  of  Buckingham,  the  unfortunate 
favorite  of  Charles  I.  who  fell  by  the  hands  of  Felton.  It  is 
sometimes  unfortunate  to  be  the  favorite  even  of  a  King. 


91 

Through  all  the  ayre,  his  sounding  strings  dilate 
Sorrow  like  that  which  touch'd  our  hearts  of 

late; 
Your  pining  sicknesse,  and  your  restlesse  pain, 
At  once  the  land  affecting,  and  the  mayne.     16 
When  the  glad  newes,  that  you  were  Admirall, 
Scarce  through  the  nation  spread,  'twas  fear'd 

by  all 
That  our  great  Charles,  whose  wlsdome  shines 

in  you. 
Should  be  perplexed  how  to  oh  use  anew  :        20 

V.  1 1.   Euridice,  far  wJtom  his  numerowt  moan 

Makes  lutning  trees  and  satage  mountains  groan 
Through  alt  the  a^re.]— Pope's  Ode  on  St.  Cecilia's  Day, 
V.  113. 

"  Yet  ev'n  ia  death  Eurydice  he  sung, 
**  Eurydice  still  trembled  on  his  tongue, 
"  Eunjdice  the  woods, 
"  Eurydice  the  floods, 
**  Eurydice  the  rocks,  and  hollow  mountaitu  rung." 

f,  19.  Our  great  Charles.]— It  is  to  be  lamented  that  Carcw 
■hould  have  so  ill  apjj'.ied  his  panegyric;  but  the  poets  of 
bis  time  were  too  much  inclined  to  flatter  Princes  at  the 
expence  of  truth.  It  is  only  when  a  Monarch  is  truly  the 
father  of  his  People,  that  he  deserrcs  to  be  praised  by  Men  of 


9^ 

So  more  then  private  was  the  joy  and  grief, 
That  at  the  worst  it  gave  our  soules  reliefe. 
That  in  our  age  such  sense  of  vertue  liv'd. 
They  joy'd  so  justly,  and  so  justly  griev'd. 

Genius ;  a  Tyrant  should  only  have  his  virtues  echoed  by  a 
pensioned  Laureat.  Milton,  the  glorious  boast  of  Britain 
and  her  Sons,  knew  better  the  value  of  Liberty  than  to  laud 
the  greatest  subverter  of  it ;  he 

"  could  contemn 

"  Riches,  though  offer'd  from  the  hand  of  Kings." 

To  some,  this  note  may  appear  out  of  place  ;  but  I  could 
not  suffer  an  opportunity  to  escape  of  declaiing  my  abhor- 
rence of  the  tyranny  of  Charles  I.  I  cannot  forget  that  I 
am  a  Briton,  a  native  of  that 

...'. "Isle, 

**  The  greatest  and  the  best  of  all  the  main." 

And  to  the  last  hour  of  my  existence  I  hope  to  exclaim, 

"  England  !  with  all  thy  faults,  I  love  thee  still— 

"  My  country!  and,  while  yet  a  nook  is  left, 

"  Where  Knglish  minds  and  manners  may  be  found, 

**  Shall  lie  constrained  to  love  thee.     Though  thy  clime 

"  Be  fickle,  and  thy  year  most  part  deformed 

"  With  dripping  rains,  or  withered  by  a  frost, 

*'  I  would  not  yet  exchange  thy  sullen  skies, 

*'  And  fields  without  a  flower,  for  warmer  France 

"  With  all  her  vines."  Cowper. 


93 

Nature,  her  fairest  light  eclipsed/ seemes     25 
Herselfe  to  suffer  in  these  sad  extreames ; 
While  not  from  thine  alone  ihy  blood  retires. 
But   from    those   cheeks    which   all   the  world 

admires. 
The  stem  thus  threatned,  and  the  sap,  in  thee 
Droop  all  the  branches  of  that  noble  tree;      30 
Their  beauties  they,  and  we  our  love  suspend. 
Nought  can  our  wishes  save  thy  health  intend  ; 
As  lillies  overcharg'd  with  rain,  they  bend 
Their  beauteous  heads,  and  with  high  Heaven 

contend, 

V.  33.  As  lillies  overcharg'd  with  rain,  they  bctid 

Their  beauteous  heads.] — This  Ijeautiful  simile  is  to  be 
found  in  Hoiner,  //.  book  viii.  1.  30(3.  Thus  in  Pope's  transl. 
1.  371. 

"  As  full-blown  poppies  overcharg'd  with  raia 

"  Decline  the  head,  and  drooping  kiss  the  plain." 

1 

Compare  also  Fletcher,  Purp.  IsL  can.  xi.  st.  38. 
"  So  have  I  often  seen  a  purple  flower, 
"  Fainting  thrangh  heat,  hang  down  her  drooping  head." 

p.  Fletcher's  Eliza^  part  ii.  st.  6. 

"  like  fainting  flowers  oppressed  with  rain." 


94 

Fold  thee  within  their  snowy  arms,  and  cry     35 
He  is  too  faultlesse,  and  too  young  to  die : 
So,  like  immortals,  round  about  thee  they 
Sit,  that  they  fright  approaching  death  away. 
Who  would  not  languish  by  so  fair  a  train. 
To  be  lamented  and  restor'd  againe  ?  40 

Or  thus  withheld,  what  hasty  soule  would  go. 
Though  to  the  blest  ?     Ore  young  Adonis  so 
Fair  Venus  raourn'd,    and   with  the   precious 

showre 
Of  her  warm  tearse  cherisht  the  springing  flower. 

Milton,  Samp.  Agon.  728. 

"  but  now  with  head  declin'd, 

*'  Like  a  fair  flower  surcharged  with  dew." 

Di-yden,  Avrengiebe. 
"  Your  head  declin'd, 
**  Droops,  like  a  rose  surcharg'd  with  morning  dew." 

Carew,  however,  is  the  first  English  poet  in  whom  the 
idea  is  to  be  found. 

1'.  42 Ore  young  Adonis  so 

Fair  Venus  mourn'd.} — ^Tlius  Spenser's  Momning  Mute 
•f  Tliesti/lis. 

"  Venus  when  she  wuild 

"  Her  deare  Adonis  slaine." 


95 

The  next  support,  fair  hope  of  your  great  name. 
And  second  pillar  of  that  noble  frame,  46 

By  losse  of  thee  would  no  advantage  have. 
But,  step  l^y  step,  pursues  thee  to  thy  grave. 

And  now  relentlesse  Fate,  about  to  end      49 
The  line,  which  backward  doth  so  farre  extend 
That  antique  stock,  which  still  the  world  supplies 
With  bravest  spirits,  and  with  brightest  eyes. 
Kind  Phoebus  interposing,  bade  me  say. 
Such  stormes  no  more  shall  shake  that  house ; 

but  they. 
Like  Neptune  and  his  sea-borne  Neece,  shall  be 
The  shining  glories  of  the  Land  and  Sea,       56 
With  courage  guard,  and  beauty  warm  our  age. 
And  lovers  fill  wiih  like  poetique  rage*. 

*  This  Epistle  has  be«n  erroneously  ascribed  to  Waller. 


£vans,  Printer,  lirintol. 


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