ymPyEDIA OF ^ E T R Y University of California At Los Angeles The Library Form L I G\OI This book is DUE on the last date stamped below ,^R 1 192b MAY 15 1929 MAR 1 3 J93T JUL 3 1931 MAY 5 1934 W aprT m 1 Form L-9-10m-3 "37 ^ c 31^ ENCYCLOPEDIA OF English and American Poetry : KROM C/EDMON AND KING ALFRED'S BOKTHIUS TO BROWNING AND TENNYSON. CONIAINING NI-AKLV TWO THOUSAND OF THE BEST PIECES IN THE I':N( •■ 1 .1 S H LANGUAGE ; WITH SKETCHES OF THE History of the Poetry of our Country iR.\Plllf.\L NOTICE:; OF FIVE EME OF THE POETS. Edited by S. O. BEETON and W. M. ROSSETTL VOT,. I. ''<' ''^ J oft • > • , • ■• l.O X DO N: W ARI). LOCK & TYLER, WARWICK HOUSE. I'A 1 i;rnoster row. P H I L A D !•: L P 1 1 I A : (i V. O. G K P. B I K. 1873. C X Q 9 n ( > * • » » t •' • The Only Authorized Edition. THE subscribers, in submitting to the public the Encyclopaedia of Poetry, beg to acknowledge the courtesy of" the publishers of the works of the American Poets who arc presented in this volume, in permitting them to cir- culate in the United States a work containing numerous copyrighted pieces. Their thanks are especially due to Messrs. James R. Osgood & Co., proprietors of the copyrights of the productions of Longfellow, Whittier, Emerson, Holmes, Lowell, Saxe, Akers, &c. ; Messrs. D. Appleton & Co., Publishers of Bryant, Halleck, &c. ; W. J. Widdleton, publisher of Edgar A Poe ; and others. The public is hereby informed that any copy of the Encyclopaedia of Poetry, offered for sale in this country, without the subscribers' authorization, is without legal warrant, and is consequently liable to seizure under the American Law of Copyright. GEBBJK & BARRIK. Philadelphia, Sept. 7. 187 3. • PREFACE. ^ I THE intention of tlie Frojector of tlie present Book of Poetry was to collect and publish as many poems, or parts of poems, as could be comprised within '^ one large and handsome, but not unwieldy Volume. Beginning with the eariiest known efforts in verse of English writers, the line of our Poets was to be traced ^ from the veiy Fathers of English Poetry, through all the Periods of its greatness CO or decadence, to the Modern Mastei-s of the Divine Art. To compile a work of the scope and magnitude of this collection has not been an easy task. 31ore than tlirice the number of years have been spent in ^ completing the volume than wa.s reckoned would be necessary in the original f^ calculation of time. One of the chief assistants in the work, who looked upon ^ his labours for this compilation as a delight and joy, has passed away from this world within the past twelve months, without seeing the consummation of an undertaking which he ably helped and longed to see brought to a conclusion. In the selection and rejection of poems, difficulties have occurred inse})arable from the presence of a multitude of candidates. It was impossible to pass all as >^ being able to obtain a place, although it was felt that many were omitted which Ni were worthy of admittance, although not destined to the better fortune of those '^V ultimately selected. , . The Earlier Poems have been carefully compared with the best origmals to which access was possible ; the reading of various versions has been collated, and, where differences arose, the criticisms of our first literary guides have been searched, and their judgments consulted before a decision was taken. Smce the first portion of the volume was printed, certain discoveries have been announced concerning English Poetry of the Fourteenth Century, which we have, unfor- tunately, been unable to take advantage of. If it was difficult to deal with the enormous amount of English verse wi-itten up to the end of the last century, the task became infinitely harder as our own times were approached. Tin; rights of property in tlio works of the Imng and dead had to be respected, and the law of copyright considered. In idl cases where we discovered the existence of these rights, application was made to the Y>oct or his representatives for permission to print the desired quotations. In noarlv every instance the jiermission was kindly granted ; and we speciallv have to thank :\[r. Strahan for his very generous reply to our requests ; also Messi-s. Macmillan and Messrs. Moxon, besides many other publishers, for theii- courtesy, as well as ^Messi-s. Warne &, Co. It is, nevertheless, necessary, in our view of the duty we owe to the mterests of literature and to the sentiments of authors in connection with the laws ot copvright, to refer to communications which passed between us and two firms oi pulllisiiers. In the one instance, INIessrs. Longman claimed to be in the possession of tl)e copyright of the poem of Ivrv, or the War of the League, written by Lord Macaulay, and fii-st published in Cbaries Knight's " Quarteriy :\Iagazinc. W e beUeved, upon good grounds as we thought, that the copyright of this piece had IV PREFACE. expired for some yeai-s, and so stated our belief to Messrs. Longman. They, however, insisted tliey were right, and demanded that the electrotype plates containing that particular poem should be destroyed. (Still believing that we were correct, we made further search, and jjroved to Messrs. Longman that they were claiming a light which had expired four or five years. If, however, they had been never so right, we contend that to refuse permission for the insertion in such a collection as our own, of a poem by an author of the rank of Lord !Macaulay, is, at the least, a churlish piece of business, and unworthy of a house whose name stands so high in the estimation of its contemporaries. Surely, the jiossessiou of Lord ]Macaulay's copyrights for the legal term of forty-two years should be suthcient to satisfy the most extortionate. But hei-e we see Messrs. Longman straining to assert their rights long after they had lapsed, and when Lord ^lacaulay's copyright had ceased to be individual property — to become, as the Legislature intended, the property of the nation. In the other instance, Messrs. Bell and Dakly refused to permit the insertion of any poems by Miss Procter. That charming poetess, to our great regret, is absent from these pages ; and wrongly, indeed, tlid they read her wishes who is now no more, when, after several applications on our ])art (e-\'en when we asked for one little poem, so that she should not be entirely unrepresented here), they stUl adhered to their very ungenerous resolution. It becomes, indeed, a matter for the public to find fault Avith, when extreme rights, such as Ave have referred to, are extremely insisted on. There would be no collection of modern pi-ose, or poetry, possible, if firms who happen to be iu the ])ossession of the valuable woi-ks of deceased authors, to whom there is no appeal for assistance against the selfishness of the copyright-holders, should all declare theii- unwillingness to abate a jot of their pretensions even in behalf of the public welfare. ThLs kind of procedure, also, becomes more reprehensible when such houses as we have named, who ought to be foremost in liberality, are the trans- gressors. The eminent men and women whose works they print, would consider that their publishers were ill doing their duty to authors and to literature, if they were systematically to refuse to compilers a reasonable use for popular advantage of their writings. A word remains to say about the arrangement of this volume. Biographical notices of nearly all the Poets whose works are quoted precede the poems of each Period. Prefixed to each Period is a brief sketch of its Poetr3\ Every Poena has the name of tlie Author at its foot, with the date of his Birth and Death. As nearly as possible the Chronological sequence of the poems has been maintained. La.stly, the American Poets are represented in the final sheets of the volume, with as much of their biogi-aphy as we have been able to discover. Many errors of omission and commission will be found in our Book of Poetry. We shall feel exceedingly obliged by critics and correspondents pointing out these blunders, so that we may correct them iu future editions. But we sincei-ely believe that, with all its faults, this Volume stands, in r<;gard to quantity and quality, high above any existing Selections yet made from the inestimable stores of our glorious English Poetic Literature. S. 0. BEETON. Paternoster Eoiu, 1870. INDEX. Names of the Poets, with the Peuiods in which thet Flourished Names of the Poets, with Numbers of Poems... . Names of the Poets, with the Titles of Poems . Alphabetical List of the Poems First Lines of the Poems Biographies of American Poets Names of Ajierican Poets, avitii Numbers of Poems Names of American Poets, with the Titles of Poems Titles of American Poems First Lines of American Poems FAGB vii xi XV sxxv xlix Ixvii Lxvii Ixvii Ixix NAMES OF THE POETS, WITU THE PERIODS IN WHICH TIIEY FLOUrJSnED. fhlllUU Addison, Joseph v Aird, Thomas vii Akonsido, J[ark vi Alexander, William iii Alford, the Veiy Rev. Henry vii Alfred the Great i Alison, Richard iii Ancrum, Earl of iii Anstoj', Christopher vi Arnisfcronsr, John vi Ai-nold, JIatthew vii Atherstone, Edwin vii Aytoun, William vii B. Bailey, P. J vii Baillie, Joanna vii Bampf ylde, John vi Barhauld, Anna Letitia ... vii Barbour, John i Barnard , Lady Anne vi Barnficld, Richard iii Barton, Bernard vii Baxter, Richai-d iv Bayly, Thomas Hayncs ... vii Beattio, James vi Beaumont and Fletcher ... iii Beckford, William vii Behn, Mrs. Aphra iv Belchier, Dahridgecourt... iii Bennett, William Cox ... vii Ki.shop, )>aiiuiol vi Blacklock, Thomas vi Blackmore, Sir Michard ... v Blackstonc, Sir William... vi Blair, Robert vi Blako, William vii Blamirc, Miss Susanna ... vii Blind Harry ii Bloomfield, Robert vii Booth, Barton v Boswell, Sir .Vlexander ... vii Bourd, .Vndrew ii Bowles, William Lisle vii Breton, Nicholas iii Brome, Alexander iii Brown, Thomas iv Browne, William iii Browning, Elizabeth vii lirowning, liobert vii Bruce, Michael vi Burns, Robert vii Rurton, Robert iii Butler, Samuel iv Byrom, John vi Byron, Lord George Gordon vii Brunnc, Robert do i Buckingham.'ihire, John Sheffield, Duke of iv C. Ciedmon i Campbell, Thomas vii Canning, George yii Carew, Thomas iii Carey, Henry vi Carrington, N. T vii Cartwi-ight, William iii Chalkhill, John iii C'hamberlayne, William... iv Chapman, George iii Chatterton, Thomas vi Chaucer, Geoffrey i Chettle, Henry iii Chnrchill, Charles vi Gibber, CoUey vi Clare, John vii Cleveland, John iii Cockburn, ]Mrs vi Coleridge, Samuel Taylor vii Coleridge, Hartley vii Collins, William vi Constable, Henry iii Cook, Eliza vii Corbet, Richard iii Cotton, Charles iv Cotton, Nathaniel vi Cowley, Abraham iv Cowper, William vii Crabbe, George vii Crashaw, Richard iii Crawford, Robert vi Crawfurd, William vi Croker, Right Hon. John Wilson vii Croly, George vii Crowno, John iv Cunningham, Allan vii Cunningham, John vi D. Dale, Rev. Thomas vii Daniel, Samviel iii Darwin, Dr. Erasmus vii Davenant, Sir William ... iii Da^-ies, Sir John iii Davison, Francis iii Dekker, Thomas iii Denham, Sir John iv Dibdin, Charles vii Digb}', George iv Dobell, Sydney (Yendys) vii Doddridge, Phihp vi Dodsley, Robert vi Donne, John, D.D iii Dorset, Earl of iv Douglas, Gawain ii Dowland, John iii Drayton, .Miclip.el iii Drummond, William iii Dryden, John iv Dunbar, William ii Dyer, John vi E. Edwards. Richard ii Elliott, Ebenezer vii Elliot, Sir Gilbert vi EUiot, Miss Jane vi Etherege, Sir George iv F. Fairfax, Edward, B.D. ... iii Falconer, William vi Fanshawe, Sir Richard ... iii Faniuhar. George v Fawkcs, Francis vi Fenton, Elijah v Fergusson, Robert , vi Field, Nathaniel iii Fitzgeffrey, Charles iii Flatman, Thomas iv Fletcher, Giles iii Fletcher, Phincas i'i Ford, John i'i viii NAMES OF THE POETS, W^TH G. Gall, Richard Garth, Sir Samuel II on vii v iii V vii vii i vi iii iii vi iv i vii vi vii v vi V iii iii iii iii vi iii iii vi iii vii vi vii vii ii iii iii vii iii iii vi vii vii vii vii ii vii iii ii vii vii iii vi ii iii Johnson, Dr. Samuel Jones, Ernest Jones, Sir William BSIOD vi vii vi iii vii vii V iii vii vii vii vii vii vii vii vii vi i iv vii vii v vi vii iii vi iii ii iii ii vi vii vii vii vi iii vi iii iii iv vi vii iii vii iii vii vi vi iii vii IV vii iii vii vii vi vi vii iv Moss, Thomas Motherwell, William N. Nabbes, Thomas Nash, Thomas, k Greene, Robert BIOO vi vii iii iii iii vii vii vi vi V vii iv iii iii V vii iii vi vi V iv iii vii iv V iv vii vii V vii ii iv iii V iii i i vi iv vii i iv vi V vi Jonson, .Ren K. Keats, John Keble, John Ken, Bishop King, Dr. Henry Kingsley, Rev. Charles ... King.sley, Henry Knowles, Herbert Ivnox, William Gascoigne, George Gay, John Giflord, William Giltillan, Robert Gloucester, Robert of Glover, Richard Godolphin, Sidney Gotfe, Thomas Goldsmith, Oliver Niccols, Richard Nicoll, Robert Norton, Hon. Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Nugent, Earl 0. Oldys, William Oldmixon, John Opie, Mr.s. Amelia Gould, Robert Gower, John Grahame, James . . . L. Laidlaw, William Lamb, Charles Granger, Dr. James Grant, Mrs Granville, George Gray, Thomas Otway, Thomas Overbury, Sir Thomas ... Oxford, Eari of, Edward Vei'e Green, ^latthew Greville, Fulke H. Habington, William L. E. Landon Landor, Walter Savage ... Langhorne, John Langlande, Robert Lee, Nathaniel P. Parnell, Thomas Patmore, Coventry Peele, George Penrose, Thomas l^ercy. Bishop Philips, Ambrose Lewis, Matthew Gregory . Levden, John Ijillo, George Lloyd, Robert Lockhart, John Gibson ... Lodge, Thomas Hall, Joseph, D.D Hall, John Hamilton, William Harrington, John Logan, John Lovelace, Richard Harrington, Sir John Hart, Joseph Haughton, William Lydgate, John Lyly, John Lyndsay, Sir David Lyttelton, George, Lord... M. Macanlay, Lord Maokay, Charles MacNeill, Hector Macpher.son, .James ^L'litland, Sir Richard Mallett, David -Alarlowe, Christopher Marston, John Marvell, Andrew Mason, William Philips, John Philif)s, Katherine Pollok, Robert Pomfret, John Pope, Alexander Pope, Dr. Walter Praed Winthrop Mack- worth Pringle, Thomas Prior, Matthew Procter, Bryan ^Valle^ ... Q. Quarles, Francis Quarles, John R. Raleigh, Sir Walter Ramsay, Allan Randolph, Thomas Hayley, William Headley, Heury Heber, Bi.shop Hemans, P'elicia Henry.sone, Robert Herbert, George Herrick, Robert Hervey, T. K Heyvrood, John Heywood, Thomas Hill, Aaron Hislop, James Hogg, James Hood, Thomas Houghton, Lord Howard, Henry Howitt, William and Mary Hume, Alexander Hunni.s, William Hunt, .James Henry Leigh Hunter, Mrs I. Ingeland, Thomas J. Jago, Richard James L, King of Scotland James VL,_KiDg Mas.sey, Gerald Massinger, Phillip Mathias, Thomas James... May, Thomas Mayne, John Merrick, .James Mickle, William Julius ... Middleton, Thomas Milman, Henry Hart Milton, .John Moir, JJavid .Macbeth Montgomery, Alexander . Montgomery, .James Montgomery, iiobert Moore, Edward Robert de Tirunne Robert of Gloucester Roberts, William Hay- ward Rochester Earl of Rogers, Samuel Rolle, Richard Roscommon, Earl of Ross, Alexander Rowe, Nicholas Moore, Sir .John Henry ... Moore, Thomas More, Henry Russell, Thomas THE PERIODS IN WHICH THEY FLOUIUSUED. IX SackvUle, Thoinas m Sandys, Georjirc iii tiavage, Kichard vi Scot, Alcxaniler iij Scott, John vi Scott, Sir Walter vii Scdley, Sir Charles iv Seward, Miss Anna vii Scwell, Dr. Coorgo v ShadwcU, Thoinas iv Shakspero, William iii Sheffield, John, Diike of Buckingh.inishiro iv Shelley, Percy Bysshe vii Shenstone, William vi Shirley, James iii Sidney, Sir PhiHp iii Skclton, John ii Smart, Christopher vi Smith, Alexander vii Smith, Mrs. Charlotte ... vii Smith, Horace vii Smith, James vii Smollett, Tohins vi Somerville, William v Sotheby, William vii Southeme, Thomas v Southey, Robert vii Southcy, Mrs vii Southwell, Robert iii Spencer, the Hon. Wil- liam R vii Spenser, Edmund iii Stanley, Thomas iv Stepney, George ..., iv I'UKIUD Still, John iii Stirling, Earl of iii Storer, Thomas iii Suckling, Sir John iii Swain, Charles vii Swift, Jonathan v Sylvester, Joshua iii T. Tannahill, Robert vii Tate, Nahum v Taylor, Bishop Jeremy ... iv Tennant, William vii Tennyson, Alfred vii Thompson, Edward vi Thomson, James vi Thrale, Mrs vi Tickell, Thomas v Tighe, Mrs vii Topladj', Augustus vi Trench, Archbishop vii Tusser, Thomas ii U. Udall, Nicholas iii V. Vanbnigb, Sir John v Vaugbau, Henry iv W. Waller, Edmund iv Walsh, William iv Ward, Edward v Warner, WilUam iii Warton, Joseph vi Warton, Thomas vi Wastall, Simon iii Wat.son, 'i'homas iii Watts, A laric A vii Watts, Isaac vi Webster, John iii Wesley, Charles \i Wesley, John vi West, Gilbert vi White, H. Kirke vii Whitehea.l, P;uil , Vi Whitehead, William vi Wiffen, J. II vii Wilde, Dr iii Wikon, Al-:xander vii Wilson, Professor John ... vii Winchelsea, Anne, Co'jn- • tess of V Wither, George iii Wolcot, John vii Wolfe, Charles vii Wordsworth, William vii Wotton, Sir IIo«ry iii Wy at. Sir Thomas ii Wycherley, William iv Wj'ntoun, Andrew li Yendys, Sydney (Dobell) vii Y'oung, Edward vi NO. OF POEM. Adamson. .John 74:5 Addusoii, Joseph 7ti'-i-770 Akensido i»l)l-9i»3 Alford, Dean 172(J-17;Ht) Alfred, Kin;? 5-12 Alison, Richard 48i) AUingham, William 183S Ancrum, Eai-1 of 395 Anonymous, 94, 95, 510-539, 709-711, 712-733, 735-73(5, 738-739, 74-.>, 744-74t), 1814 Anstey, Christopher 1025 Armstrong, John 924-927 Arnold, Edwin 1757,1758 Arnold, .Matthew ... 1759-17(51 Ayre.s, Philip 707,708 Ayton, Sir Robert 839 Aytoun, W. E 1662-1(5(53 B. Bailey, Philip J 1(572 Baillie, Joanna 1470-1473 Banipfylde, John ... 1(107-1010 Barbauld, Anna L.... 1104-111(2 I Barbour, Johu 32-35 Barnard, Lady Aune 1047 1 Barntield, Richard ^... 121 Barton, Bernard 1453-1459 Baxter, Richai'd 570 Bayly, T. Haynes ... 1500-1502 Beattie 988-993 Be uimont and Fl6tchor,212-220 Beckford, W 1519 Behn, Aphra 704,705 Belchier, Dabridgeoourt... 445 Bennett, \V. C 1764-1778 Bishop, Samuel 10>>2-1006 Blacklock, Thomas ...975-978 Blacknioro 787 Blackstone, Sir William... 936 Blair, Robert 842-849 Blamire, Sus;inna ... 11U2, 1103 Blind Harry 46, 47 Bloomticld, Robert... 1123-1128 Boethius 9-12 Bonar, Horatiu.s 1779,1780 Booth, Barton 83t) Boswell, SirA 1609-1611 Bourd, Andrew 80 Bowles, W. L. 1238-1271 NO OF POBM. Breton, Nicholas ll(j-118 Bristol, Lord 571 Broine, Alexander 381-383 Brooke, Lord _154-157 Brown, Frances 1781-1784 Brown, Thomas 679 Browne, William 285-291 Browninu:, Mi-s 1558-1561 Browning, Robert... 1785-1788 Bruce, Michael 959-961 Bnmne, Ixobert de 14,15 Brydges, Sir Egerton, 1520, 1521 Buchanan, R 1835 Buckinghamshire, Duke of 681 Burns, Robert 1575-1592 Bm-ton, Robert ^ 487 Butler, Samuel... 637-645, 734, 741 BjTom, John 1056,1057 Byron, Lord 1337-1358 C. Ciedmon 1-4 Campbell, Thomas... 1297-1312 Canning, (Jeorge ... 1144-114(i Carew, Thomas 258-270 Carey, Henry 1035 t;arrington, X. T. ... 1513-1518 Cartwright, William... 337-339, 482, 483 Chalkhill, John 3-33-336 Chamberlayne, William, 579-584 Chapman, George 485 Chatterton, Thomas... 940-944 Chaucer 19-28 Chettle 433,434 Churchill 952-958 Cibber, Colley 1033 Clare, John 140.')-]413 Cleveland, John... 377,378, 740 Clough, A. H 1836, 1837 Cock burn, Mrs 1049 Coleridge 1503-1512 Coleridge, Hartley... 1569-1574 Collins, William." 887-892 Constable, Henrv 164 Cook, Eliza '. 1 720-1 725 Corbet, P.i.shop 2.il-253 Cotton, Cbarles 646-649 Cotton, Nathaniel 1024 hO. OF rOBK. Cowley, Abraham 54()-554 Cowper 1077-1088 Crabbe, George 117^^-1179 Crashaw, Richard 297-301 Crawfurd, William... 1028-1030 Crol}', George 1538-1551 Crowne, John.... 695-65*9 Cunningham, Allan... 1617-1627 Cunuingbam, John... 1022, 1023 Cunningham, Thomas 1613 D. Daniel, Samuel 135-140 Darwin, Erasmus ... 1092-109S Davenant, Sir William, 372-374 Davies, Su-John 221-226 Davison, Francis 498-500 Dekker, T 432-438 Denham, Sir John 576-578 Dibdin, Charles 1136-1140 Dickens, diaries 1818 Dobell, Sydney 1671 Doddridge 1058-1063 Dodsley, Robert 1000,1001 Dommett, Alfred 1792 Donne, John 227-2^36 Dorset, Earl of 680 Doi-set, Thomas Sack^'ille, Earl of 96-98 Douglas, Gawain 5(J, 57 Dowland, John 497 Di-ayton, Michael 141-147 Drummond, William... 361-366 Dryden, John 658-665 Dunbar, William 51-55 Dyer, John 880 E-lwards, Richard 91,92 Elliot, Sir Gilbert Iii51 Elliot, Mi.ssJane lu-IS Elliott. Ebenezer ... 1552-1557 Erskine, Ralph 711 Etherege, Sir Geoi-ge... 701-703 Fairfax, E rriii;,'lo, Thomas 1478-1 4S0 Prior, Matthew 747-711 Time's Alteration 512 Loyalty confined 513 Adam Bell 514 The Birth of llohin Hood 515 A Tale of Robin Hood 516 Robin Hood .and AUan-a- Dale 617 Robin Hood rescuing the Widow's three Sons 51 8 Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne 51!> ]!obin Hood and the Curtal Friar 520 How Robin Hood lends a Poor Knight Four Hundred Pounds 521 The Knight releases his Lands and suc- cours a Yeoman 522 Little John in the Service of the Sheriff of Nottingham :..... 523 Kobin Hood reimburses himself of his Loan 524 Robin Hood's Death and Burial 525 Patient Grissell 526 The Twa Sisters o' Binnorie 527 The Hunting of the Cheviot 528 King John and the Abbot of Canter- bury 529 Edom o' Gordon 530 Thomas the Rhvraer 531 The ^Vuter o' Wearie's ^Vell 532 Lord Beichan 533 Love will find out the way 534 The Childe of EUe 535 King Edward IV. and the Tanner of T;imworth 536 The Heir of Linne 537 The Spanish Ijady's Love 538 The Lass of Lochrovan 539 The Young Man's Wish 709 The Midnight Mes.senger 710 Smoking spiritualized 711 The (athohck 712 The Three Knights 713 The Blind Beggar of Bednall Green 714 Lord Delaware 715 The (Jolden Glove 716 King .lames I. and the Tinkler 717 The Keach i' the Creel 718 Sir .lohn Barleycorn 719 The Nobleman's (tenerons Kindness 720 The Bi-avo Earl Brand and the King of England's Daughter 721 The Jovial Hunter of Bromsgrove. 7-2 b NAMES OF THE POETS AND NO. OF rOBM. Ladv Alice 7-3 The" Useful Plow 72i The Fai-mer's Boy 725 The Mow 7-26 The Hitchin May-daj' Song 727 The llavmakers' Soug 728 The tJanlon Gate 729 The New-mown Hay 730 Begone Dull Care 731 When the King comes Home in peace again 732 I love my King and Country well 733 The New Litany 735 The Old Protestant's Litany 736 The Cameronian Cat 738 I thank you twice 730 Praltle your Pleasure imder the llo.se 742 The Cobbler and the Vicar of Braj' ... 7-14 A Country Song intituled the Kestora- tion 745 The Loyal Soldier 74() Time's Song 1814 ANSTEY, CHRISTOPHER. A Public Breakfast 1025 ARMSTRONG, JOHN. Choice of a Rural Situation and De- scription of the Ague 924 Recommendation of a High Situation on the Sea-coast 925 Angling 926 Pestilence of the 15th Century 927 ARNOLD, EDWIN. Almond Blossom 1 757 Woman's Voice 1758 ARNOLD, MATTHEW. Urania 1 759 Philomela 17G0 Euphrosyne 1761 AYRES, PHILIP. To the Nightingale 707 On the Sight of his Mistress's House 708 AYTON, SIR ROBERT. The Church Builder 8-39 AYTOUxV, W. E. Massacre of the Macphersons 16(i2 The Burial March of Dundee 16G3 B. BAILEY, P. Love 1672 BAILLIE, JOANNA. Address to Miss Agnes Baillie 1470 The Black Cock 1471 The New Year's Gifc 1472 The Kitten 1473 BAMPFYLDE, JOHN. Sonnets 1007, 1008, 1009, 1010 BARBAULD, ANNA L. Ode to Spring 1104 To a Lady, with some painted Flowers 1105 Hymn to Content 1106 NO. OF POBM. Washing-day 1107 The Death of the Virtuous 1108 Come unto Me 1109 Praise to God 1110 BARBOUR, JOHN. Apostrophe to Freedom 32 Character of Sir James of Douglas ... 33 Death of Sir Henry de Bohun 34 The Battle of Byland's Path 35 BARNARD, LADY ANNE. Auld Kobiu Gray 1047 BARNFIELD, RICHARD. Address to the Nightingale 121 BARTON, BERNARD. Power and Gentleness 1453 To the Evening Primrose 1454 There be those 1455 Not ours the Vows 1456 Stanzas on the Sea 1457 The Solitary Tomb 1458 Bishop Hubert 1459 BAXTER, RICHARD. The Valediction 570 BAYLY, T. H. To his Wife 1500 Thinknotof the Future 1501 where do Fairies hide their Heads 1502 BEA.TTIE. Opening of the Minstrel 988 Morning Landscape 989 Life and Immortality 990 Retirement 991 The Hermit 992 Ode to Peace 993 BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. Plighting Troth 212 Nature and Love 213 Csesar's Lamentation over Pompey's Head 214 Melancholy 215 Song 216 The Power of Love 217 ToSleep 218 From Rollo 219 SongtoPan 220 BECKFORD, W. Prayer 1519 BEHN, APHRA. Songs 704, 705 BELCHIER, DABRIDGECOURT. The Confession 445 BENNETT, W. C. Invocation to Rain in Summer 1764 To a Cricket 1765 Baby May 1766 Baby's Shoes 1767 The Worn Wedding-ring 1768 Wedding Words 1769 Mother and Son 1770 To a Lady I know, aged One 1771 Cradle Son? s 1772 TITLES OF THK J'OEMS. XVII MO. ov rOBM. ToW. G. B 177;5 The Queen 1774 Sketches from a Painter's Studio ]77r( From India 177'> Tho Hoat-i-aco 1777 The Wife's Appeal 1778 BISHOP, SAMUEL. To Mrs. Bishop 1002, 1003 Epigrams lOUl, 1005, lOOG BLACKLOCK, THOMAS. Flowers i^7J> Terrors of a Guilty Conscience St7<> Ode to A\irora 977 The Author's Picture ^78 BLACKJIORE. Creation . . BLACKSTONE, SIR WILLIAM. A Lawyer's Farewell to his Muse 787 936 BLIND HARRY. Adventure of Wallace in Irvine Water The Death of Wallace . while Fishing 46 47 BLOOMFIELD, ROBERT. Tho Farmer's Life 1123 Banquet of an English Squire 1124 The Soldier's Home 112.'> To his Wife 1126 Song for a Highland Drover returning from England 1127 Lines addressed to my Children 112S BOETHIUS. The Soul in Despair Nothing on Earth permanent . The only Rest The Happy Man BONAR, HORATIUS. A Little While 1779 All Well 1780 BOOTH, BARTON. Song 830 BLAIR, ROBERT. The Grave 842 Friendship 843 The Miser 844 Unprepared for Death 845 Death 846 The Grave 847 The Death of a Good Man 848 Tho Resurrection 849 BLAMIRE, SUSANNA. The Nabob 1102 What ails this Heart o' mine 1103 BOSWELL, SIR A. Jenny dang tho Weaver 1609 Jenny's Bawbee 161U Good Night and Joy be wi' ye a' 1611 BOURD, ANDREW. Characteristic of an Englirlimau SO no. OP POEM. BOWLES, W. L. To Time 123K Hope 12:;'.t Tho Greenwich Pensioners I2)!t Tlie Greenwood 12J1 (Jomo to these Scenes of Pe.ico 1242 On the Funcn-il of Charles 1 1243 At Oxford, 1786 1244 Written at Tynemouth 1245 At BamV>orough Castle 1246 To the River Wensbeck 1247 To the River Tweed 1248 Sonnet 1249 On leaving a Village in Scotland 12.')0 Sonnet 12.')1 On a Distant View of Enghinrl 1252 To the River Cherwell 1253 Sonnet " 1254 April, 17!t3 1255 Netlev Abbey 1256 May. 1793 1257 On Revisiting O.xford 1258 On the Death of the Rev. William Benwell 12.';9 On 1 teviewing the foregoing 1 260 Path of Life 1261 Sunrise 1262 Summer's Evening 1263 Spring. — Cuckoo 1264 Sheep-fold 1265 Primrose 126i) Bird's Xest 1267 Winter. - Redbreast 1268 Butterfly and Bee 1269 Glowworm 1270 Starlight Frost 1271 BRETON, NICHOLAS. Farewell to Town 116 A Pastoral of Phillis and Coridon 117 A Sweet Pastoral 118 BRISTOL, LORD. Song 571 BROME, ALEXANDER. Tho Resolve 381 The Mad Lover '. 382 To a Coy Lady 383 BROOKE, FULKE GREVILE, LORD. Constitutional Limitation of Desjiotism 154 Imagination 155 OfC'hurch 156 Iioality of a True Religion 157 BROWN, FRANCES. If that were true I 1781 Is it come • 1782 Oh ! the pleasant Days of Old ! 1783 Losses 17Si BROWN, THO^L\S. Song 679 BROWNE, WILLIAM. . , Fleming -^[ Evening 2S(! A Night Scene 287 Night 28S Songs 289, 2JM) .\Hdrcss to his Native Soil 291 1.2 NAMES OF THE POETS AND NO. OF POBM. CROWNING, MRS. Oowper's Grave 1.5.^8 The Child and the Watcher 1 ofiK Bertha in the Lano loCi' The Sleep 1501 BROWNING, ROBERT. One Way of Love 1785 In a Year 1786 Soliloquy of the Spanish Cloister 1737 The Lost Leader 1788 BRUCE. MICHAEL. A Rural Scene 959 Happiness of a Country Life iWO Elegy 9S1 BRUNNE, ROBERT DE. The Interview of Vortigem with Rowen 1 i Praise of Good Women 15 BRYDGES, SIR EGERTON. Echo and Silence 1520 To Autumn 1521 BUCHANAN, R. Iris, the Rainbow 1835 BUCKINGHAMSHIRE, DUKE OF. Homer and YLrgil 681 BURNS, ROBERT. To a Mountain Daisy 1.575 Ae Fond Kiss 1576 My Bonnie Mary 1577 Mary Morison 1578 Bruce's Address 1 579 My Heart's in the Highlands 1580 Auld LangSj'ne 1581 Ca' the Yowes to the Knowes 1582 Of a' the Airts the Wind can blaw ... 1583 A Red, Red Rose 1584 Bonnie Leslie 1585 Highland Mary 1586 To Mary in Heaven 1587 My Wife's a Winsome Wee Thing ... 1588 John Anderson 1589 Here's a Health to them that's awa ... 1590 Tarn O'Shanter 1591 The Colter's Saturday Night 1592 BURTON, ROBERT. Abstract of Melancholy 487 BUTLER, SAMUEL. Accomplishm ents of Hudibras 637 Religion of Hudibras 638 Personal Appearance of Hudibras ... 6-39 Hudibras commencing Battle with the Rabble 640 Vicarious Justice 641 Hudibras consulting the Lawyer 642 The Elephant in the Moon 643 Miscellaneous Thoughts 644 To his Mistress 645 The Tub Preacher 734 The Pvoundhead 741 BYRO:^I, JOHN. Careless Content 10.o6 A Pastoral 1057 NO. OF I'OEU. BYRON, LORD. To Thomas i\loore 1337 :Maid of Athens 1338 The Girl of Cadiz 1-339 Stanzas for Music 1340 The Dream 1341 When we two parted 1342 The Destruction of Sennacherib 1343 Song of the Greek Poet 1 344 The Prisoner of Chillon 1345 The Gladiator 1346 Apostrophe to the Ocean 1347 Description of Haideo 1348 Haidee visits the .shipwrecked Don .luan 1349 Haidee and Juan at the Feast 1350 The Death of Haidee 1351 All for Love 13.52 She walks in Beauty 13.53 Elegy on Thyrza 1354 Youth and Age 1355 Vision of Belshazzar 1356 To 1 ielshazzar 1357 The Night before the Battleof Waterloo 1358 C. CiEDMON. The First Day The Fall of the Rebel Angels . Satan's Speech The Temptation of Eve , CAMPBELL, THOMAS. Hope Triumphant in Death Domestic Love ^Maternal Care Battle of Wyoming and Death Gertrude To the Evening Star Song Lochiel's Warning Hohenlinden Ye Mariners of England Battleof the Baltic Lord Ullin's Daughter The Soldier's Dream Hallowed Ground The Parrot Napoleon and the Sailor Adelgitha of 1 2 1297 1-298 1299 1-300 1301 1302 1-303 1-304 1305 1306 1-307 1308 1309 1-310 1-311 1-312 CANNING, GEORGE. The Friend of Humanity and the Knife-grinder 1144 Song by Rogero in "The Rovers" 1145 Lines on the Death of his Eldest Son . 1146 CAREW, THOMAS. Songs 258,2.59,260,262,263 The Compliment 261 Disdain returned 264 On Mr. W. Montague's Return from Travel 265 Persuasions to Love 266 Approach of Spring 267 Epitaph on the Duke of Buckingham . 268 ToSaxham 269 The Primrose 270 CAREY, HENRY. Sally in our Alley 1035 wo. OP POBM. CAKllINGTON, \. T. The Coniraencemeutof " Dartmoor"... I;il3 Dartmoor 1:>'H TheTixiesof Devon l^'l-'' England's Landscape 1.<1*> Bird, Bee, and Buttcrdy 1.^17 Lovoand Nature 1-^18 CARTWKIGHT, WILLIAM. A Valediction 337 ToChloo 338 Love's Darts 339 On the Death of Sir Bevil Granville ... 482 Love's Darts 483 CHALKHILL, JOHN. Descriiition of the Priestess of Diana 333 The Image of Jealousy in the Chapel of Diana 334 The Witches' Cave 33ri The Votaress of Diana 330 CHAMBEllLAVNE, WILLIAM. A Summer Morning 579 Virgin I'lirity -^80 Argalia condemned on False Evidence The Father of I'haronnida discovers her Attachment to Argaiia Argalia Uikeii Prisoner by the Turk.s... The Death of Janusaand Ammurat ... 81 r.S2 583 CHAPMAN, GEORGE. Sonnet 435 CHATTERTON, THOMAS. Morning 940 Spring 941 The Prophecy 942 Bristow Tragedy 943 The Minstrel's Song in Ella 944 CHAUCER, GEOFFREY. The Canterbury Tales— The Prologue The S( (uiere's I'ale The Cuckow and the Nightingale To his Empty Purse The House of Fame Mercy Introduction to the " Flower and the Leaf"...- The Duplicity of Women Praise of W omen The Last Ver.ses of Chaucer 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 2t> 27 28 CHETTLE. Sweet Content 433 Lullaby 434 CHURCHILL. Remorse 952 Smollett 953 Hogarth 9.54 On the I'overty of Poets 9.5.5 Character of a Fribble 956 Characters of Quin, Tom Sheridan, and Garrick 9.57 From the Prophecy of Famine 958 CIBBER, COLLEY. The Blind Boy so. OP POEM. From "the Fate of Amy" 140*5 What is Life 1407 Summer Morning 14<)S The Primrose 140i* The Thrush's Nest 1410 First Love's Recollections 1411 Dawnings of Genius 1412 Scenes and Musings of the Peasant Poet 1413 clevp:land, joiin. His Hatred (jf the Scots 377 On Phillis walking before Sunrise 378 The Puritan 7iO CLOUGH, A. II. I ucitement to Perseverance 1 836 To a Sleeping Child 1S37 CLARE, JOHN. To the Glowworm 1033 1405 COCKBURN, MRS. The Flowers of the Forest 1049 COLERIDGE, HARTLEY. Sonnet l-^'j^ On Shakesnere 1570 Sonnets to a Friend 1571 To certain Golden Fishes 1572 Song yfji November l^ Love in Women (;97 Inconstancy of the Multitude 698 Warriors 699 CUNNINGHAM, ALLAN. Hame, Hame, Hame 1617 MyNanie, 1618 The Young J.Iaxwell 1619 Fragment 1 626 She'sgane to dwell in Heaven 1621 The Poet's Bridal-day Song 1622 A Wet Sheet and a Flowing Sea 1623 The Town Child and Country Child.... 1624 Thou hast vow'd by thy Faith, my Jeanio 1625 Gentle Hugh Herries 1626 The Sun rises bright in France 1627 CUNNINGHAM, JOHN. May Eve 1022 Content 1023 CUNNINGHAM, THOMAS. The Hills o' Gallowa' 16S4 D. DANIEL, SAMUEL. Early Love 105 The Introduction of Foreign Vices de- precated 136 Richard II 137 An Epistle to the Countess of Cumber- land 1.38 The Nobility exhorted to the Patronage of Learning 139 Sonnets 140 DARWIN, ERASMUS. Destruction of Sennacherib's Army ... 1092 The Belgian Lovers and tlie Plague ... 1093 Death of Eliza at the Battle of Minden 1094 Philanthropy — Mr. Howard 1095 Persuasion to Mothers to suckle their own Children 1096 SongtoMay 1097 Song to Echo 1098 DAVENANT, SIR W, Gondibert 372 Song 373 To the Queen 374 DAVIES, SIR JOHN. The Vanity of Human Learning 221 That the Soul is more than a perfection or reflection of the sense 222 That the Soul is more than the tem- perature of the humours of the body 223 In what manner the Soul is united to Body 224 The Immortality of the Soul 22^ An Appeal to the Heart 226 DAVISON, FRANCIS. Psalm XXX 498 Psalm xxiii 499 Psalm xiii 500 TITLES OF THE POEMri. XXI DEKKEIl, T. k WILSON II. The Summer's Queen 110. OT P0E5I. 4:y2 DEKKKIl, CIIETTLP:, & HAUGHTON. Sweet Content 433 Lullaby 431 DEKKEU, T. Virtue and Vice 435 Patience •. 43t) A Contrast between Female Honour and Shame 437 A Description of a Lady by her Lover 43S DENHAM, SIR JOHN. Cooper's Hill 57G On the Earl of Strafford's Trial and Death r>77 Song to Morpheus 578 DIBDIN. CHARLES. The Tar for all Weathers 11 36 Sir Sidney Smith 1137 Lovo and Glory 1138 Nongtongpaw 1139 Tom Bowling 1140 DICKENS, CHAP.LES. The Ivy Green 181S DOBELL, SYDNEY. How'smyBoy? 1071 DODDRIDGE. The Gospel 1058 Evening Hymn 1059 To-morrow, Lord, is Thine 1060 On Recovery from Sickness 1061 Preparing to meet God 1062 A Christmas Hymn 1063 DODSLEY, ROBERT. The Parting Kiss Song DOMMETT, ALFRED. A Christmas Hymn 1000 lOni 1792 DONNE, JOHN. Address to Bishop Valentine 227 A Hymn to the Father 228 A Hymn to Christ 229 The Will 230 Valediction 231 Song 232 The Break of Day 233 The Dream 234 Sonnets 235 Ode -36 DORSET, EARL OF. Song 680 DORSET, THOMAS SACKVILLE, EARL OF. The Induction to the Complaint of Henry, Duke of Buckinjiham 06 Allegorical Personagesdescribediu Hell 97 Henry, Duke of Buckingham, in the Infernal Regions 98 DOUGLAS, GAWAIN. The Shipwreck of the Caravel of (Jraco .^i6 Morning in May ^' DOWLAND, JOHN. Sleep VO. OF POEM. 497 DRAYTON, MICHAEL. Mortimer, Earl (jf March, and the Queen surprised by Edward III. in Notting- ham Castle 141 Description of Morning, Birds, and Hunting the Deer 142 The Ballad of Agincourt 143 David and Goliah 144 To his Coy Love 145 Ballad of Dowsabel 146 Sonnet 147 DRUMMOND, WILLIAM. To a Nightingale 361 To his Lute 362 Spring 363 Think on thy Homo 364 John the Baptist 365 The Praise of a Solitai-y Life 366 | DRYDEN, JOHN. Reason ;• ^oS Palamon and Arcite ; or, the Knight's Tale 659 Mac-Flecknoe 660 Alexander's Feast 661 Character of Shaftesbiu-y 662 Character of Villieis, Duke of Buck- ingham "_6'-' Theodore and Honoria 664 Enjoyment of the Present Hour re- commended 66o DUNBAR, WILLIAM. The Merie and Nightingale 51 The Vanity of Earthly Things 52 No Treasure without Gladness 53 Of Discretion in Giving 54 Of Di-scretion in Taking 55 DYER, JOHN. Grongar Hill. 8SD E. EDWARDS, RICHARD. Amantium ir;e Amoris Redmtegratio gst ' The iiover requesteth some Friendly Comfort, affirming his Constancy. ... 92 ELLl OTT, EBENEZER. To the Bramble Flower i-J^~ The Excursion l'^'-'-^ Pictures of Native Genius I^^* Apostrophe to Futurity !•'.'•>'; A Poet's Epit^iph ]f*: A Poet's Prayer ^^'•^' ELLIOT, SIR GILBERT. ^^.^ Amynta ELLIOT, JANE. „ The Flowers of the I crest lUia XXll NAMES OF THE POETS AND ETHEREGE, SIR GEORGE. SOD'TS NO. OF POlsM. 701, 702, 703 FAIRFAX, EDWARD. Description of Armida and her En- chanted Girdle 148 Rinaldo at Mount Olivet, and the En- chanted Wood 149 FALCONER, WILLIA.M. Character of the Ship's Officers 945 The Ship departing from the Haven... n4() Distress of the Vessel 947 Council of the Officers 948 The Vessel going to Pieces 949 FANSHAWE, SIR RICHARD. The Spring ... 368 A Rose 369 The Saint's Encouragement 370 A Rich Fool 371 FAWKES, FRANCIS. The Brown Jug 1014 FENTON, ELIJAH. An Ode to the Right Hon. John Lord Gower 834 FERGUSSON, ROBERT. Braid Claiih 10.'>2 The Farmer's Ingle 10,03 TotheTron Kirk Bell 10.54 A Sunday in Edinburgh 1055 FIELD, NATHANIEL. Song 488 FITZGEFFREY, CHARLES. Sir Francis Drake 492 To Posterity 493 FLATMAX, THOMAS. For Thoughts 672 Dying 673 The Thought of Death 674 An Evening Hymn 675 FLETCHER, GILES. The Rainbow 310 The Sources of Vain Delights 311 A Hymn 312 The Demand of Justice 313 FLETCHER, PHINEAS. Happiness of the Shepherd's Life 314 Insiability of Human Greatness 315 FORD, JOHN. The Real and the Ideal 4.')6 Summer Sports 457 Beauty beyond the Reach of Art 458 Bridal Song 459 FRERE, J. H. Mr. Murray's Proposal 1294 The Giants and the Abbey 1295 War Song on the Victory of Brunnen- burg 1296 .NO. OF POEM. G. GALL, RICHARD. My onl.y Jo and Dearie 1603 Farewell to Ayrshire 1604 GARTH, SAMUEL. The Dispensary 786 GASCOIGNE, GEORGE. The Arraignment of a Lover 101 Swiftness of Time 102 The Vanity of the Beautiful 103 Good Jlorrow 104 Good Night 105 DeProfundis 106 GAY, JOHN. The Monkey who had seen the World 792 The Painter who pleased Nobody and Everybody 793 The Lion and the Cub 794 The Old Hen and the Cock 79.'; The Goat without a Beard 796 The Sick Man and the Angel 797 The Fox at the Point of Death 798 The Council of Horses 799 The Poet and the Rose 800 The Hare and many Friends 801 Sweet William's Farewell 802 A Ballad 803 The C'ountry Ballad-singer 804 Walking the Sti-eets of London 805 GEM MET, T. M. Ye're a' the WarF to me. Lassie ! 1813 GIFFORD, WILLIAM. The Grave of Anna 1141 Greenwich Hill 1142 To a Tuft of Early Violets 1143 (HLFILLAN, ROBERT. In the Days o' Laugsyne 1646 The Exile's Song 1647 GLOUCESTER, ROBERT OF. The Muster for the First Crusade 13 GLOVER, RICHARD. A Night Scene 997 The Armies at Salamis 998 Admiral Hosier's Ghost 999 GODOLPHIN, SIDNEY. Lore 481 GOFFE, TIIOJIAS. The Madness of Orestes 467 Love without Return 468 GOLDSMITH, OLIVER. Edwin and Angelina 916 Retaliation 917 The Traveller 918 The Deserted Village 919 The Haunch of Venison 920 GOULD, ROBERT. Songs C84, 685 GOWER, JOHN. The Tale of the Coffers or Caskets 29 TITLES OF THE POEMS. xxm KO. OF rOEM. "Rosiphele's Vision of Ladies 30 The Envious Mail aud tho Miser yi GRAHAME, JAMES. Scotland IL.iJ A Sprinff Sabbatb Walk 1L"'7 A Summer Sabbatii Walk nr»8 An Autumn Sabbath Walk Uri'J A Winter Sabbath Walk 1W) The Uurial of the Kifihieous IKil A Scottish Country Wedding llO'i The Impressed Sailor iJoy 1103 To My Son llOi GRANGEll. DIl. Ode to Solitude 1015 GRANT, MRS. As a Sprit; of Heath j.119 The Highland Poor 1120 GRAY. Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College 907 Hymn to Adversity 908 The Bard , 909 Elecv written in a Country Church- yard : 910 Ode on the Spring 911 On Vicissitude 912 GREEN, M.VTTHEW. Contentment ^L' TheSeeker 81(5 GREENE, ROHEUT. Beauty Suing for Love 419 Samela 420 Content 4-21 Sephesiia's Song to her Child 422 The Shepherd aud his Wife 42:3 A Roundelay 424 Philomela's Ode 42.) Jealousy 426 Doi'astus on Fawnia 427 GREET, T. Household Treasures lolo GREVILLE, MRS. Prayer for Indifference 9S7 H, HABERGHAM, MRS. FLEETWOOD. The Seeds of Love 671 HABINGTON, WILLIAM. To Roses in the Bosom of Castara ._ 31ti To Castara 317, 318 A Dialogue between Hope and Fear... 319 To tho Spring 320 To Seymors 321 Description of Castara 322 To Castara 323 To my Noblest Friend, I. C, Esq 324 Nomine Labia mea aperies 325 Panoitatem Dicrum nieorum nuncia mihi 32.J Et exaltavit Humiles •i2/^ Cupio dissolvi 328 no. or roEK. HALL, BISHOP. The lic Discontent of Men with their Condition 2.>3 Lullaby 434 IIAYLEY, WILLIAM. Tribute to a Mother on her Death 10>«9 Inscrii.tion on the Tomb of Cowper ... lOi't) On the Tomb of Mrs. Unwin 1091 HEADLEY. IIKXIIY. From his '• Invocation to Melancholy 1041 HEBER, BISHOP. Passage of the Red Sea ioij From Bishop Heber's Journal 1378 An Evening Walk in Bengal 1379 Epiphany l-'-SU Thou art gone to the Grave 13!^l Spring 1382 HEMANS. MP.S. The Homes of England 14-j<> The Treasures of the Deep 1437 The Voice of Spring 143'? The G raves of a H ousehold 1 4: .9 Marguerite of Franco 1440 Bring Flowei's 1441 Casabianca 1442 The Hour of Prayer 1443 Passing Away 1444 Tho Better Land 144.'> A Father reading the Bible 144»j To a Family Bible 1447 The Child's First Grief. 1448 Willow Song 1441^ The Wandering Wind 14o0 The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathei-s m New England 14.'1 The Adopted ChUd 14o'- HENRYSONE, ROBERT. Robeue and Makyne Dinner given by tho Town Mouse to tho Country .Mouse 4"-' The Garment of Good Ladies oO XXIV NAMES OF THE POETS AXD HO. OP POEM. HERBERT, GEORGE. Sunday 302 Virtue 303 The Flower 304 The Odour 305 Complaining 306 Easter 307 TheCall 308 Man 309 HERRICK, ROBERT. The Kiss, a Dialogue 340 To Blossoms 341 ToDaffodils 342 SoDff 343 To Meadows 344 The Country Life 345 To Primroses tilled with Morning Dew 346 Julia 347 Cherry Ripe 348 A ThanksLci viny for his House 349 To Find God 350 To Corinna to go a-Maying 351 HERVEY, T. K. The Convict Ship 1525 Dr\- up thy Tears, Love 1526 I am All Alone 1527 At his Sister's Grave 1528 Parting 1529 HEY^VOOD, JOHN. Idleness 400 Be Merry, Friends 401 HEYWOOD, THO:\IAS. The Death-bell 469 What is Love 470 Go, Pretty Birds 471 Diana's Nymphs 472 The Lark 473 Shepherd's Song 474 Shipwreck by Drink 475 Search after God 476 Hn.L, AARON. Verses written when alone in an Inn at Southampton 1031 HISLOP, ja:\[es. The Cameronian's Dream 1652 HOGG, JAMES. When the Kye comes Hame 1612 The Skylark 1613 The Moon was a-waning 1614 Kilmeny 1 61 5 To the Comet of 1811 1616 HOOD, THOMAS. Town and Country 1484 Song 1485 A Parental Ode to my Son 1486 Flowers 1487 Autumn 1488 To a Child embracing his Mother 1489 To my Daughter on her Birthday 1490 I Hemember, I Remember 1491 Fair Ines 1492 Ruth 1493 The Dream of I^ugene Aram 1494 The Bridge of Sighs 1495 NO. OF POBM. The Son- of the Shirt 1496 The Death-bed 1497 The Water Lady 1498 Song 1499 HOOK, N. From a Poem entitled Amanda 706 HOUGHTON, LORD. The Brookside 1717 The Men of Old 1718 The Long Ago 1719 HOWITT, MARY. Mountain Children 1653 The Fairies of the Caldoulow 1654 The Monkey 16.55 Little Streams 1656 The Broom Flower 1657 Summer Woods 1658 Little Children 1659 Cornfields 1660 HOWITT, WILLIAM. The Departure of the Swallow 16G1 HUME, ALEXANDER. Early Dawn 391 The Noon-tide of a Summer's Day 392 Evening 393 HUME^ MARY C. Render to Ciesar tne things which are Csesar's 1817 HUMPHREYS, DAVID. Western Emigration 1847 HUNNIS, WILLIAM. The Love that is requited with Dis- dain 93 HUNT, LEIGH. On the Birth of the Princess Royal 1397 ToT. L. il., six years old 1398 To the Grasshopper and Cricket 1399 Chorus of Flowers 1400 The Nun 1401 Abou Ben Adhem 1402 JafFar 1403 Mahmoud 1404 HUNTER, MRS. Songs 1112, 1113 To my Daughter, on being separated from her on her Marriage 1114 The Lot of Thousands 1115 INGELAND, THOMAS. My Fantasy will never turn 397 INGELOW, JEAN. Requiescat in Pace ! 1832 INGRAM, J. K. The Memory of the Dead 1793 TITLES OF TllK POEMS. XXV KO. OP POEM. JAGG, RICHAllD. Liibour amlGonius SSo JAMES I. OF SCOTLAND. Spriii-,' 41 James bewails his Captivity 42 James first sees the Lady Jano 4:3 JAMES VL, KING. Ane schort Poeme of Ty mo 30 1 JOHNSON, SAMUEL. London ^^4 Tho Vanity of 1 luman Wishes 885 On the Death of Dr. ilobort Levett.... 88t) JONES, ERNEST. Moomise 1794 JONES, SIU W. An Ode in Imitation of Alcreus K^ll A Persian Song of Ilafiz 1012 Tetrastie 1013 JONSON, BEN. To the Holy Trinity 237 Cupid 238 Song of Hesperus 239 On Lucy, Countess of Bedford 240 Song 241 Soncr to CeUa 242 A Nymph's Passion 243 Epitaph on the Countess of Pembroke 244 A Celebration of Churls 24.5 A Hymn to God the Father 24tJ Advice to a lleckless Youth 247 K. KE^VTS, JOHN. ,^^^ From "Endvmion" 1819 The Eve of St. Agnes 1820 Ti-ue Beauty in Women 1821 Ode to a Nightingale 1822 Ode on a Grecian Urn 1823 Sonnet 1824 La Belle Dame sans Merci 1825 KEBLE, JOHN. April l"f*» The Elder Scripture 17i:M) St. Peter's Day 1797 Is this a time to Plant and Build? 1798 KEN, BISHOP. Morning Hymn 819 Evening Hvmn 8'20 Midnight Hymn 821 KING ALFRED. The Soul in Desp.iir .'i Nothing on Earth permanent (i The only Rest 7 The Happy Man 8 KING, BISHOP. Song 254 Sic Vita 2o.) Life 25tJ no. OP vohii. KINGSLKY, ('HAULt:S. (), Mary, go and call tho Cattle homo. 1799 Tho Fishermen 1800 KNOWLES, HERBERT. Lines written in the Churchyaid of Richmond, Yorkshire 13S.J KNOX, WILLIAM. Opening of the Songs of Zion 14r> Dirge of Rachel 147.-> A Virtuous Woman 147'j Conclusion of the ' ' Songs of Israel "... 1 47 7 L. LAIDLAW, WILLIAM. Lucy's Flittin' 1G49 LAMB, CHARLES. „.„ To Hester ]--^ A Farewell to Tobacco 1-2-' The Old Familiar Faces l'-3" On an Infant Dying as soon as Bom... P-ol Tho Christening l*-3'- Tho Gipsy's Malison \^-^ Childhood l'-J4 LANDON, L. E. From the Improvisatnce i-V>^' Crescentius 14*>1 The Shepherd Boy 14'.-_ Little Red Riding Hood 14t'3 Night at Sea ]f>i Tho Awakening of Endymion 14b.> Hannibal's Oatb If'.'j The Grasp of the Dead 14t./ The Troubadour H';,^ Last Verses of L. E. L lltJ-' LANDOR, W. S. The Maid's Lament ;^-f.- The Brier ^"-l'^ Children i-fl Iphigenia and Agamemnon i-i_-' To Macaulay ^"-ll.' The One Gray Hair I-'' L-\NGFORD, J. A. , , ,. ,0,,. To the First Cuckoo of tho Year loio LANGHORE, DR. Country Justices and their Duties... Gipsies ■■ An Appeal for the Industrious Poor Mercy should have mitigated Jiistice.. 933 A Vnrpwell to the Valley of Irwan 934 930 i»31 932 A Farewell to the Valley Owen of Carron. LANSDOWNE, GEO. GRANVILLE, LORD Song. 837 LEE, NATHANIEL. fp^f^ ::::::::: 693 Love .£,, Self-murder ^^* LEWIS, M. G. Alonzo tho Imogine.... Bmve and tho Fair 13K NAMES OF THE POETS AND KO. OF POEM. LEYDEX, JOHN. Dyiiig in a Foreign Land 1129 Sonnet on Sabbath Mora 1130 Ode to an Indian Gold Coin 1131 The MeiTuaid 1132 To lanthe 1133 Ode to the Evening Star 1134 Scotland 1135 LILLO, GEORGE. Frona Fatal Curiosity 831 LLOYD, ROBERT. The Miseries of a Poet's Life 9.")0 ^V^etchedness of a School Usher 951 LOCKHART, J. G. Beniardo and Alphonso 1522 Zara's Ear-rings 1 523 The Excommunication of the Cid 1524 LODGE, THOMAS. Beauty 428 Rosalind's Madrigal 42y Rosader's Sonetto 430 Another 431 LOGAN, JOHN. To the Cuckoo 962 Written on a Visit to the Country in Autumn 963 Complaint of Nature 9t)4 LOKER, T. Many, many Years ago 1810 LONGLANDE, ROBERT. Mercy and. Truth 17 C'ovetousness 18 LOVELACE, RICHARD. Song 352 ToLucasta 35-3,354 To Althea 35.5 Song 350 Old England 17-^1 England goes to Battle l^'j- Thcre'.s no Denith of Kindness 17^3 To a Beloved Uuc 17o4 A Wail Ji?^ Oh, lay thy Hand in mine. Dear ! l/i>b MASSIXGEU, PIIILIl'. Welcome to the Forest's Queen 4fij The Sweets of Beauty •l'>-^ Death 465 MAY, THOMAS. The Death of Uosamond 36< MAYNE, JOHN. Logan Braes ^ . "I Helen of ivirkconnel 1^0(3 To the River Xith 1607 Mustering' of the Trades to Shoot for the Siller Gun 1608 MEREDITH, GEORrrE. Love in the Valley 1744 MERRICK, .TAMES. The Chameleon 1016 The Wish 1017 MICKLE. CumnorHall f>2S The Mariner's Wife 920 MIDDLETON, THOMAS. The Three States of Woman 4.o0 What Love is like 4.^1 Happiness of Married Life 4.52 Devotion to Love • ■ 453 Indignation at the Sale of a Wife's H onour 454 Law 455 MILMAN, H. H. Summons of the Destroying Angel to the City of Babylon 1664 The Fair Recluse 1665 The Dav of Judgment 1666 Bridal Song 1667 Hymn 1668 Brother, thou art gone 1669 Chorus 1670 MILTON", JOHN. L'Allegro 603 II Pon.seroso 604 Lycidas 605 Hymn on the Nativity 6(16 Praise of Cha.stity 607 The Lady's Song in Comus 60S The Spirit's Epilogue in Comus 609 On May Morning 610 Sonnet to the XightinL'.ile 611 Sonnet on Age "f Twenty-three 612 Sonnet on his Blindness 613 Sonnet on his Deceased Wife 614 Sonnet on the late Mas.sacre in Pied- mont 615 Samson bewailing his Blindness and Captivity 616 Translation of Horace 617 Athens 618 iro. OF pozx. The Invocation and Introduction to Paradise Lost C19 Satan's Address to the Sun 2 The J omney Onwards l"—''* MORE, HENRY. . „^ The Philosopher's Devotion oi_- Chaiitv and Humility ^'3 XXVlll NAMES OF THE POETS AND NO. OF POBU. The Soul and the Bodj' 574 The Pre-existence of the Soul 575 iMORRIS, WILLIAM. From "The Loves of Guainin" ...1839, 1840 MOSS, THOMAS. The Beggar 1027 MOTHERWELL. Jeanie Morrison 1631 Swonl Chant of Thoretein Raudi 1(332 Thev come ! the Merry Summer Months 1633 The Water, the Water 1634 The Midnight Wind 1635 The Cavalier's Song 1636 The Bloom hath fled thy Cheek, Mary 1637 My Heid is like to rend, Willie 1638 The Covenanter's Battle Chant 1639 When I beneath the cold red earth am sleeping 1640 Song of the Danish Sea-king 1641 :moultrie, johx. The Three Sons 1801 N. NABBES, THOMAS. Song by Love to Physander and Bel- lanima 876 NASH, THOMAS. Spring 439 Tne Decaj' of Summer 440 The Coming of Winter 441 Approaching Death 442 Contentment 443 Despair of a Poor Scholar 444 XICCOLS. RICHARD. Robert, Duke of Normandy, previ- ously to his eyes being put out 496 NICHOLSON, WILLIAM. The Brownie of Blednoch 1G50 NICOLL, ROBERT. Thou^ts of Heaven 1642 We are Brethren a' 1643 Wild Flowers 1644 Death 1G45 NORTON, HON. MRS. Picture of Twilight 1710 The Mother's Heart 1711 To Ferdinand Seymour 1712 We have been Friends together 17] 3 Allan Percy 17].{ Love not 1715 The King of Denmark's Ride 1716 NUGENT, EARL. Ode to Mankind 1044 0, OLDMIXON, JOHN. Song 838 ^o. Ok' roEii. OLDYS, WILLIAM. Song 1021 OPIE, MRS. AMELIA. The Orphan Boy's Tale 1116 A Lament 1117 Song Ills OTWAY, THOMAS. A Blessing 687 Parting 688 Picture of a Witch 689 Song 690 Description of Morning 691 OUSELEY, T. J. The Angel of the Flowers 1811 The Seasons of Life 1812 OVERBURY, SIR THOMAS. The Wife 495 OXFORD, EDWARD, EARL OF. Fancy and Desire 494 PARNELL, THOMAS. A Fairy Tale 808 The Hermit 809 Hymn to Contentment 810 Song 811 Morning Hymn 812 Noontide Hymn 813 Evening Hymn 814 PEELE, GEORGE. ^nonc's Complaint 409 The Song of the enamoured Shepherd. 410 The Aged Man-at- Arms 41 1 England 412 Joab's Description of David _ 413 Joab's Address to David on Death of Absalom 414 King David 415 Beth?abe bathing 416 Bethsabe's Address to the Zephyr 417 David enamoured of Bethsabe 418 PENROSE, THOMAS. The Helmets .981 The Field of Battle 982 PERCY, DR. THOMAS. O Nanny, wilt thou gang wi' me 937 The Friar of Orders Gray 938 PHILIPS, AMBROSE. A Fragment of Sappho 788 Epistle to the Earl of Dorset 789 The First Pastoral 790 To Charlotte Pulteney 791 PHILIPS, JOHN. The Splendid Shilling G6<} PHILIPS, KATHERINE. The Inquiry 384 A Friend 385 POLLOK, ROBERT. Thus stood his Mind 1430 TITLES OF THE POEMS. VO. OP POKM. Hell 1431 A Sceiio of Earlj' Love l-l-i- The Death of the Young Mother 1-1:5:5 Friendship IV-ij Happiness li'iii POMFRKT, JOHN. Custom C77 The Wish 678 POPE, ALEXANDER. The Messiah 776 Satire 777 Toa Lacly 778 The Man of Ross 779 The Toilet 780 Tlie Dyint,' Christian to his Soul 781 The Quiet Life 782 Moonlight 78:i POPE, DR. WALTER. The Old Man's Wish C86 PRAED, \V. M. Twenty-eight and Twenty-nine 1709 PRINOLE, TH0:MAS. Afar in the Desert 1478 The Lion and the (Jiniffe 147» The Emif^rant's Farewell 1 480 PRIOR, MATTHEW. An Ode 747 A Song 748 The despairing Shepherd 749 The Lady's Looking-glass 7f)0 Cupid and Ganymede 751 Cupid mistaken 752 Mercury and Cupid 75:3 The Garland 754 Henry and Emma 755 The Thief and the Cordelier 756 1187 11S8 16 650 (Vil 652 653 xsx NAMES OF THE POETS AND NO. OF rOEM. KOSETTI, DANTE GABUIEL. The Blessed Damozel 1S41 The Portrait 1842 Newborn Death 1S43 ROSS. ALEXANDER, W'oo'd and ^larried and a' 1045 Mary's Dream IWtJ EOWE, NICHOLAS. Coiin's Complaint ^2S The Contented Shepherd 8--^9 Song 830 KUSSELL, THOiLVS. Sonnet to Valclusa 1042 Sonnet, supposed to bo written at Lemnos 1043 S. SANDYS, GEORGE. A Thanksgiving 477 Psalm xlii 478 Psalm Ixviii 479 Chorus of Jewish Women 480 SAVAGE, RICHARD, Remorse 840 The Wanderer 841 SCOT, ALEXANDER. To his Heart 386 Rondel of Love 387 SCOTT, JOHN. The Tempestuous Evening 1 01 S Ode on hearing the Drum 101!* Ode on Privateering 102O SCOTT, SIR WALTER. Description of Melrose Abbey 1314 Love of Country 1 31 .5 Death of Marmion 1316 Young Lochinvar 1317 Jock of Hazeldean 1318 Songs 1319,1320 Border Ballad 1321 Pibroch of Donuil Dhu 1322 Coronach 1323 Hymn of the Hebrew Maiden 1324 Cadyow Castle 132.5 The Outlaw 132H A Serenade 1327 Where shall the Lover rest 1 328 The Maid of Neidpath 1329 The Pride of Youth 1330 Rosabelle 1331 Hunting Song 1332 The Palmer 1333 The Wild Huntsman 1334 Christmas 133.'5 Hymn for the Dead 133G SEDLEY, SIR CHARLES. To a very Young Lady fifi7 Song ''''S Cosmelia's Charms ♦J'iS Song G70 SEWARD, ANNA. The Anniversary 1111 KO. OK POEM. SEWKLL, DR. GEORGE. Verses 835 SHADWELL, THO]\L\S. Inconstancy of Love 700 SHAKSPERE, WILLIAM. INIorcy 165 Night 166 Night and Music 167 Cirief that cannot be comforted 168 Flowers 169 Richard tlie Second's L-.iment 170 Soliloquy of Richard the Second iu Prison 171 Hetspur's Defence 172 Humour 173 Sleep 174 Henry the Fourth's Expostulation with his Son ... 175 The Answer of the Lord Chief Ju.s- tice to Henry V 176 The King'.'? Answer 177 Henry the Fifth's Address to his Sol- diers before Hartleur 1 78 Henry the Fifth's Address at Agin- court 1 79 Henry the Fifth's Soliloquy on the Battle-field ISO Gloster's Soliloquy 181 Wolsey on his Fall ^ 182 Cranmer's Prophecy of Queen Eliza- beth 183 Hamlet's Soliloquy on Death 184 Macbeth before murdering the King... 185 Cassius to Brutus 186 Mark Antony's Oration on the Body of Ca3sar 187 C 1 eopatra 1 88 Life 189 Appearances li*0 The Uses of Adversity 191 A Meditative Fool 192 The World a Stage 193 Adversity 1 94 Beauty 1»5 Ceremony 196 Friends falling off 197 Gold 1S8 Insanity !•'!> Self-inspection 200 Love 201 England 202 Order and Obedience 203 I'roper use of Talents 204 'i'ake the beam oi;t of thine own eye 205 The Voice of the Dying 206 A Good Conscience 207 Good Name 208 Ariel's Song 209 The Fairy to Puck 210 Amiens' Song 211 SHAW, CUTHBERT. From "A Monody to the Memory of his Wife" 103G SHELLEY, PERCYS. Opening of Queen Mab 1359 The Cloud 1360 To a Skylark 1361 Lines to an Indian Air ■'■^^.? I fear thy kisses 1"^^ TITLES OF THE POEMS. XXXl NO. OP POBM. Love's Philosophy 1364 TotheNi^'ht 1365 Tho Flij^ht of Love 1300 Olio Word is too ol'ton profanod 1307 1 iivocation 1 30S Stunza-s written in Uojcction near Naples 1369 Ozyniandias of Etrypt 137't To a Lady, with a CJuitar 1371 Ode to the West Wind 137ii Autumn KJ7 3 The Widow IJird 1371 Hymn to lutelleetual Beauty 137.'> Mutability 1370 SHENSTONE. The Schoolmistress 803 A Pastoral Ballad f?i»4 Ode to Memory ^'05 Written at an Inu at Henley b'M SHIRLEY, JAMES. Upon his Mistress sad 379 Echo and Narcissus 380 Shepherd and Shepherdesses 460 The Comnion Doom 461 The Equality of the Grave 462 SIDNEY, SIR PHILIP. Sonnets 107 SKELTON, JOHN. To Mistress Margaret Hussey C3 SKINNER, JOHN. Tullochgorum 1050 SMART, CHRISTOPHER. Song to David 904 From a Trip to Cambridge 905 Ode oyo SMITH, ALEXANDER. Lady Barbara 1743 SMITH, CHARLOTTE. On the Departure of the Nightingale 1090 Written at the Close of Spring lldO Recollections of English Scenery llOl SMITH, HORACE. Address to the Mummy in Belzoni's Exhibition 1418 Hymn to the Flowers 1419 On the Death of George III 14-20 SMITH, JAMES. The L^pas in JIarylebone-lauo 1417 SMITH, JAMES AND HORACE. The Theatre 1414 The Baby's D6but 1415 A Tale of Drury-lane 1416 SMOLLETT, TOBIAS. Ode to Independence 921 Ode to Levcn Water 922 The Tears of Scotland 920 SOMERVILLE, WITJ,TA:\r. Description of a Harediunt 806 Praise of a Country Life 807 *o. av roBM. SOTHEBY, WILLIAM, Staffa 1225 Approach of Saul and his Guards against the Philistines 1236 Song of the Virgins celebrating the Victory 1237 SOUTIIERNE, THOMAS. Song 827 SOUTIIEY, CAKOLINE. Autumn Flowers 1.530 The Pauper's Deathbed 15;il The l^ust .Journey 1532 Mariner's Hymn 1533 SOUTIIEY, ROBERT. The Widowed Mother 1213 A Moonlight Scene 1214 The Holly-tree 1215 The Alderman's Funeral 1216 Love 1217 The Miser's Mansion 1218 After Blenheim 1219 The Scholar 1220 Youth and Age 1221 The Complaints of the Poor 1222 The Old Man's Comforts 1223 The Inchcape Rock 1224 Bishop liatto 1225 Marv the Maid of the Inn 1226 St. Komuald r227 SOUTHWELL, ROBERT. Love's Servile Lot 108 Look Home 109 Times go by turns 110 The Image of Death Ill Scorn not the least 112 SPENCER, PETER. Lines to Fanny 1807 Sent with a Rose to Rose 1808 A Thought among the Roses 1809 SPENCER, HON. W. R. Beth G6lert 1395 Wife, Children, and Friends 1396 SPENSER, EDMUND. Una and the Redcross Knight 124 ITna followed by the Lion 125 The Scpiiro and tlie Dove 126 Fable of the Oak and the Briar 127 From the Fpithalamiou 128 The House of Riches 129 The Ministry of Angels 130 Prince Arthur's Address to Night l:Jl The (iarden of Adonis 132 The Howerof Bliss 133 Sonnets 134 STANLEY, THOMAS. The Tomb r.O.T Celia Singinc ^>^}}, Speaking and Kissing 567 La Belle Confidante 568 Note to Mosehus 6^9 STEPNEY, GEORGE. To I he Evening Star. 632 xxxu XA^IFS OF THE POETS AND NO. OF POI.M. STEELTXE. EARL OF, WILLI.UI ALEXANDEU. Sonnets 4SI1 STILL, BISHOP. Drinking Sonfj 40'2 STIRLING, R\RL OF. Sonnet 306 STOEEK, THOMAS. Wolsey's Ambition 400 Wolsey's Vision 4'Jl SUCKLING, SIR JOHN. Song 820 A Ballad upon a Wedding. o^il I Constancy 331 Song. 332 SURREY, HOWARD, EARL OF. Imprisoned in Windsor, he recounteth Lis Pleasure there passed 64 No Age Content with liis Own Estate. 6o The Means to attain Happy Life 66 Description of Spring 67 How each Thing, save the Lover, in Spring reviveth to Pleasure 6S Description and Praise of his Loue, Geraldine 69 A Vow to Loue 70 A Lover's Complaint 71 SWAIN, C. The Death of the Warrior-king 1G97 The Voice of the :.Iorning 1(198 The Mother's Hand 1099 The Orphan Boy 1700 Sabbath Chimes 1701 Love's History 1702 SWIFT, JONATHAN. ^Morning 771 I 'escription of a City Shower 772 Baucis and Philemon 773 Verses on his own Death 774 The Grand Question debated 775 SWINBURNE, ALGERNON CHARLES. TheSea 18.33 Meleager Dying 1834 SYLVESTER, JOSHUA. The Soul's Errand 119 To Pceligion 120 TANNAHILL, ROBERT. The Braes o' Balquhither 1503 The Braes o' Gleniffer 1.599 The Flower o' Dumblane 160i) The Midges dance aboon the Burn .... 1601 Gloomy Winter 's no w awa' ] 602 TATE, NAHUM. The Birth of Christ 822 From Psalm civ 823 TAYLOR, BISHOP JEREMY. Of Heaven 555 yo. cF peEU. TENNANT, WILLIAM. From Anster Fair 1628 The Heroine of Anster Fair 1629 Description of the Comers to the Fair 1630 TENNYSON, A. Song of the Brook 1703 The Reconciliation 1704 The Widow and Child 1705 From In ilemoriam 1706 Lady Clare 1707 Dora 1708 TENNYSON, FREDERICK. First of March 1804 The Bridal 1805 The Blackbird 1806 THACKERAY, W. M. The Age of Wisdom 1762 Damages Two Hundred Pounds 1763 TH0?>1PS0N, EDWARD. The Sailor's Farewell 1038 Songs 1039, 1040 THOMSON, JAMES. Showers in Spring 864 Birds Pairing in Spring 865 Domestic Happiness 866 Musidora 867 A Summer Morning 868 A Summer Evening 869 Lavinia : 870 The Harvest Storm 871 Autumn Evening Scene 872 A Winter Landscape. 873 A Hymn 874 From the Bard's Song in the Castle of Indolence 875 Ode S76 Hymn on Solitude 877 The Happy Man 878 Rule Britannia 879 THRALE, MRS. The Three Warnings 1026 TICKELL, THOMAS. Colin and Lucy 784 To the Earl of Warwick on the Death of Addison 785 TIGHE, MARY. The Marriage of Cupid and Psyche.... 1121 The Lily 1122 TOPLADY, A. Love Divine, all love excelling 1072 Deathless Princi])le, arise 1073 Rock of Ages cleft for me 1074 TRAIN, JOSEPH. Song 1651 TRENCH, R. C. Harmosan 1 802 Be Patient 1S03 TUSSER, THOMAS. An Introduction to the Book of Husbandry 81 TITLES OF THE POEMS. XXXIU HO. OF rOKM. A Profaco to the Buyer of his Book oa H usbandry 82 The Ladder to Thrift f>:i Directions for Cultivating a Hop- fjfarden S-t Housewifery Physic <**;'' < iood Husl);md]y Lessons ^'' The Winds t^7 A Christmas Carol ^8 Posies for thino own Bed-chamber 89 Principal Points of Religion W U. XJDALL, NICHOLAS. The Work-girl's Song 308 The Minion Wife 301) UNCERTAIN. Sadness .'j02 The Soul's Errand .'''•S Content 504 The Woodman's Walk 50.', Canzonet 506 The Oxford Kiddle 50? Ambitio Feminini Generis 508 Nee Sutor ultra 509 VANBRUGH, SIR .JOHN. Fable, related by a Beau to .lEsop , 833 VAUGHAN, HENRY. Early Rising and Prayer 5ri6 The Feast 5r.7 The Bee 558 Peace 5.">9 They are all gone 5G0 The Timber 561 The Rainbow 562 The Wreath : 563 The Retreat 564 TERE, AUBREY DE. Early Friendship 1789 Song 1790 Sonnet 1791 W. "^"ALLER, EDMUND. On a Girdle 585 On Love 586 A Panegyric to the Lord Protector 587 At Penshurst 588 The Bud 589 Say, lovely Dream 590 Go, lovely Rose 591 Old Age and Death 592 To Amoret 593 To Phyllis 594 Of the Queen 595 On my Lady Sydney's Ilcturo 596 On niv Lady Isabella playing the Lute 597 To a Lady 598 Love's Farewell 599 no. OP pozK. On Loving at First Sight COO The Self-banished 601 The Night-piece C(J2 WALSH, WILLIAM. Song 083 WARD, EDWARD. Song 835 WARNER, WILLIAM. Tale of Arirentde and Curan 484 WARTON, JOSEPH. To Fancy 974 WARTON, THOMAS. The Hamlet 965 On Revisiting the River Loddou 9W Written on a Blank Leaf of Dugdale's Monasticon 967 Sonnet 968 Inscription in a Hermitage 969 The Suicide 970 Ode sent to a Friend on his leaving a Favourite Village 971 A Panegyric on Oxford Ale 972 The Progress of Discontent 973 WASTELL, SIMON. Man's Mortality 501 WATSON, THOMAS. The Nymphs to theii- May Queen 122 Sonnet 123 WATTS, DR. The Rose 350 A Summer Evening 851 Few Hapijy ^latches 852 The Day of Judgment 853 God known only to Himself 854 WEBSTER, JOHN. A Dirge '. 446 The Madman's Song 447 The Prepai-ation for Execution 448 Death 449 WESLEY, CHARLES. Come, thou Traveller 1064 Weaiy of Wandering 1065 Jcsu, Lover of my Soul 1066 WESLEY, JOHN. From Tersteege 1067 From the German 1063 From Count Zuizendorf 1069 From Scheffler K'^O From the German 1071 WEST, GILBERT. Allegorical Description of Vertu 1032 WHITE. II. KIRKE. To an Eiirly Primrose H'J^ Sonnet ll'''' The Star of Bethlehem 1167 A Hvmn for Family Worship 116S TheChristiad n^j^ The Shipwrecked SoliUry's Song 1 L From Clifton Grove H^l Hymn l^'- C2 NAMES OF THE POETS AND TITLES OF THE POEMS. HO. OF POBM. WHITEHEAD, PAUL. Hunting Song 1037 WHITEHEAD, W. Varioty 9S6 WILDE. DR. A Complaint of a Learned Divine in Puritan Times 257 WILSi^N. A. A Villiire Scold surprising her Hus- banl in an Alehouse 1.50-3 A 1 calar's Story 1594 WILSON, JOHN. To a Sleeping Child 1421 The Sabbath Day 1422 Lines written in a lonely Burial- ground in the Highlands 1423 The -Midnight Ocean 1424 The Evening Cloud 1425 Plague Scenes 142f3 Address to a Wild Deer 1427 Mars- 1428 The'VVidowed Mother 1429 WILSON, R. The Summer's Queen 432 WINCHELSEA, ANXE, COUNTESS OF. A Nocturnal Reverie 817 Life's Progress 818 WITHER, GEORGE. Christmas 271 Sonnet upon a Stolen Kiss 272 The Companionship of the Muse 273 A Prisoner's Lay 274 From "A Dirge" 275 To a Brother Poet 276 The just Indignation of the oppressed 277 A persecuted Poet's Address to his King 278 My Heavenly Father and his erring Child 279 Against hired Flatterers 280 The 148th Psalm paraphrased 281 The Ford of Arle 282 The sequestered Retirement of Bent- worth 283 Prayer for Seasonable Weather 284 WOLCOT, DR. The Pilgrims and the Peas 1147 Dr. .Johnson' .s Style 1148 Advice to Landscape Painters 1149 The Apple Dumplings and a King 1150 Whitbread's Brewery visited by their Majesties 1 1 51 Lord Gregory 11.52 May-Day [[[''_ 115.3 Epigram on Sleep 1]'4 To my Candle II55 WOLFE, CHARLES. The Burial of Sir -John Moore 1.562 The Death of Mary 1.563 Song ;.";.■; 1564 NO. OP FOBM. WORDSWORTH, WILLIAM. London, 1802 1189 The World is too mtich with us 1190 On King's College Chapel, Cambridge 1191 Lines 1192 Lucy 1193 A Portrait 1194 Tintern Abbey 1195 To a HiKhlaudGirl 1196 An Old Man's Reflections 1197 Ode 1198 Yarrow Visited 1199 To a Distant Friend 1200 Tothe Skylark 1201 To the Cuckoo... 1202 Composed at Neidpath Castle 1203 Upon Westminster Biiflge 1204 Admonition to a Traveller 1205 The Reaper 1206 The Daffodils 1207 Tothc Daisy 1208 By the Sea 1209 To Sleep : 1210 Written in Early Spring 1211 The two April Mornings 1212 WOTTON, SIR HENRY. To his Mistress, the Queen of Bohe- mia 158 A Farewell to the Vanities of the World 159 The Good Man 160 A ileditation 161 On the sudden Restraint of the Earl Somerset, then falling from favour... 162 In praise of Angling 16.15 AVYAT, SIR THOMAS. The Lover complaineth of the Un- kindne.ss of his Love 72 The Lover's Lute cannot be blamed, though it sing of his Lady's Un- kindncss 73 The re-cured Lover exulteth in his Freedom and voweth to remain Free until Death 74 That Pleasure is mixed with every Pain 75 A Description of such a one as he would love 76 An earnest Suit to his unkind Mis- tress not to f onsako him 77 To his Mistress 78 He lamenteth that he had ever Cause to doubt his Lady's Faith 79 WYNTOUN, ANDREW. The Return of David II. from Cap- tivity 44 Interview of St. Serf with Sathanas ... 45 YOUNG, EDWARD. Night 855 On Life, Death, and Immortality 856 Thour,^hts on Time 8.57 Procrastination 8,58 The Emptiness of Riches 859 The Love of Praise 860 The Astronomical Lady 861 The Languid Lady 862 The Swearer 863 ALrJIALETlCAL LIST OF THE POEMS. NO. OK rOEM. A Ballad SO:J A Ballad upon a Weddiujj 330 A Blessing (JS7 ABjidalDiryo 1(J91 A Calm Eve ]545 A Colebraiion of Charis 245 A (.'hribtinas Carol 88 A Cliristnias Hymn .. 10G3 A ('hristmas H>nm 171)2 A Contrast between Female Honour and Shame 437 A Country Sonp, intituled the Restoration 745 A Deseription of a Lady l>y her Lover 438 A Description of such a One as ho would lovo 76 A Dialogue between Hope and Fear 319 A Dirge 446 AFairyTale 808 A Farewell to the Vanities of the World... 159 A Farewell to the Valley of Irwan 934 A Farewell to Tobacco 1229 A Father reading the Bible 1446 A Fragment of Sappho 788 A Friend 385 A Funei-al Hymn 900 A Good Conscience 207 A Home in the Heart 1725 A Hymn 312 A Hymn 767 A Hymn 769 A Hymn 874 A Hyion 1172 A Hymn to Christ 229 A Hymn to the Father 228 A Lament 1117 A Lawyer's Farewell to his Muse 936 A Letter from Italy 765 A Little While 1779 A Ijoose Saraband 357 A Lover's Complaint 71 A Lowering Eve 1544 A Meditation 161 A Meditative Fool 192 A ^loonli^ht Scene 1214 A Mother's Love 1390 A Night Scene 2.S7 A Night Scene 997 A Nocturnal Reverie 817 A Nymph's Passion 243 A Panegyric on O.\ford Ale 972 A Panegyric to the Lord Protector 587 A Parental Ode to my Son, aged three years and five months 1486 RO. OF roEX. A Pastoral 1057 A P;istoral Ballad 894 A Pastoral of Phillis and Coridon 117 A I'edlar's Story 1594 A Persecuted Poet's Address to his King.. 278 A Persian Song of Hafiz 1012 A Petition to Time l';94 A Poet's Epitaph 1556 A Poet's Prayer 1557 A Poet's Thought 1693 A Poor Man's Wife 1747 A Portrait 1194 A Preface to the Buyer of his Book ou Husbandry .«2 A Prisoner's Lay 274 A Public Breakfast H>25 A Quack 652 A Red Red liose 1584 A Remembrance 1 726 A RichFool 371 A Rose 369 A Roundelay 424 AKural Scene 959 A Scene of Early Life 1432 A Scholar and his Dog 466 A Scottish Country Wedding 1162 A Serenade 1327 A Song for the Seasons 16S6 A Spring Sabbath Walk 1157 A Summer Evening 851 A Summer Evening 869 A Summer Morning 579 A Summer Morning 868 A Summer Sabbath Walk 1158 A Sunday in Edinburgh 1"55 A Sweet Pastoral 118 A Sylvan Retreat 33 A Tale of Dniry Lano 1416 A Talo of liobin Hood 516 A Thanksgiving 477 A Thanksgiving for his House 349 A Thought among the Roses 1 809 A Valediction o- 337 A Village Scold surprising her Husband in an Alehouse 1593 A Virtuous Woman 1476 A Vow to Loue 70 A Vovage to Ireland in Burlesque •>49 A Wail 1755 A Wet Sheet and a Flowing Sea 1623 A Winter Landscape 873 A Winter Sabbath Walk 1160 A Wish 1185 xxxvi ALPHABETICAL LIST OF POEMS. iro. OF rOT.M. Abou Ben Adhem ...., 1402 Abra's Love for Soloniou 758 Abstract of Melancholy 487 Accomplishments of liudibras 637 Adam and Eve (>-'> Adam Bell 514 Address to a Wild Deer 14-27 Address to Bishop Valentine 227 Address to his Native Soil 291 Address to Lii,'ht 623 Address to Miss Agnes Baillie on her Birthday 1470 Address to the Mummy in Belzoni's Exhi- bition 1418 Address to the Nightingale 121 Address to the Ocean Ifi73 Adelgitha 1312 Admiral Hosier's Ghost 999 Admonition to a Traveller 1205 Adventure of Wallace while Fishing in Ir\-ine Water 46 Adversity 194 Advice to a Keckless Youth 247 Advice to Landscape Painters 1149 Ae Fond Kiss 1576 Afar ill the Desert 1478 After Blenheim 1219 Against False Pride 650 Against Hired Flatterers 280 Against Hope 543 Alexander's Feast 661 All for Love 1352 All Well 1780 Allan Percy 1714 Allegorical Description of Vertu 1032 Allegorical Personages described in Hell... 97 Almond Blossom 1757 Alonzo the Brave and the Fair Imogene ... 1313 Amantinm Irro Amoris Rodintegratio est.. 91 Ambitio Feminini Generis 508 Amiens' Song 211 Amynta 1051 An Appeal for the Industrious Poor 9:j2 An Appeal to the Heart 226 An Author should be sincere 651 An Autumn Sahbath Walk 1159 An Earnest Suit to his unkind Mistress not to forsake him 77 An English Fen— Gipsies 1176 An Epistle to Curio 903 An Epistle to the Countess of Cumberland 138 An Epitaph 701 An Evening Hymn 675 An Evening Walk in Bengal 1379 An Introduction to the Book of Husbandry 81 An Invocation to Birds 1677 An Italian Song 1186 An Ode 747 An Ode 766 An Ode 768 An Ode for St. Cecilia's Day 764 An Ode from Caractacus 913 An Ode in imitation of Alc^eus 1(01 An Old Man's Reflections 1197 An Old Man's Sorrow 10 Anjicreontics 542 And doth not a Meeting like this 1281 Ane Schort Poeme of Tyme 394 Angling 926 Another 431 Answer to a Child's Question 1512 Apollo's Song of Daphne 407 Apostrophe to Fi-eedom 32 NO. OF POKU. Apostrojihe to Futurity 1555 Apo.strophe to the Ocean 1347 Appearances 190 Approach of Saul and his Guards against the Philistines 1236 Approach of Spring 267 Approaching Death 442 April, 1793 1255 April 179a' Argalia condemned on False Evidence 581 Argalia taken Prisoner by the Turks 583' Ariel's Song 209 Arranmore 1289 Aspirations of Youth 1386 Assembling of the Fallen Angels 621 At Bamborough Castle 1246 At his Sister's (irave 1528 At Oxford, 1786 1244 At Penshurst 588 Athens 618- Auld Lang Sync 1581 Auld Robin Gray 1047 Autumn 1373 Autumn 1488 Autumn 1735 Autumn Evening Scene 872; Autumn Flowers 1530 B. Baby 1S27 Baby May 176t> Baby's Shoes 1767 Ballad of Dowsabul '. 146- Banquet of an English Squire 1124 Battle of the Baltic 1306 Battle of Wyoming and Death of Gertrude 1.300 Baucis and Philemon 773 Be Patient 1803 Be Merry, Friends 401 Be Wi.se to Run thy Race 1076 Beauty 195 Beauty 428 Beauty beyond the reach of Art 4.58 Beauty Suing for Love 419' Begone, Dull Care 731 Bel.shazzar and Daniel 979- Bernardo and Alphonso 1522^ Bertha in the Lane 1560 Beth Gelert, or the Grave of the Grey- hound 1395 Bethsabo Bathing 416 Bethsabe's Address to the Zeph} r 417 Bird, Bee, and Buttcrtiy 1517 Bird'.s-nest l-'67 Birds Pairing in Spring 865 Bishop Hatto 1225 Bishop Hubert 1459 Bloom hath fled thy cheek, Mary 1639 Bonnie Leslie ISSS' Border Ballad 1321 Braid Claith 1052 Bridal Song 4.59 Bridal Song 1667 Bring Flowers •■ 1441 Bristovv Tragedi', or the Death of Sir Charles iiawdin 943 Brother, thou art gone 1669 Bruce's Address 1579 Butterfly and Bee 1'269 By the Sea 1-U9 c. NO. OF POEM. Ca' the Yowos to tho Knowos l.")S"2 CaJyow Ciistle l^-^' Ca-'sar's Lamentation over Pompey's Head 214 Canace, confleninoi>y li>'M Casabianca 1442 Cassias to Brutus ISO Celiii Sinping ''^^ Ceremony 1^^ Character of a Fribble t*j)6 Character of Shaftesbury (5152 Character of Sir James, of Douglas 33 Character of the Ship's Officers 945 Character of Villiers, Duke of Luckiu','- ham titJS Chiiractera of Quin, Tom Sheridan, and Garrick P'>" Characteristic of au EogUshman SO Charily and Humility 573 Cherry llipe 348 Chil.lhood 1234 Chil.lrcn 1274 Choice of a Rural Situation and Descrip- tion of tho Ague ^24 Chonis 1670 Chorus of Floft-ers 1400 Chorus of Jewish Women 480 Christ coming to Judgment 62 Christmas 271 Christmas 1335 Claudian's Old Man of Verona 545 Cleopatra 188 Colin and Lucy 784 Colin's Complaint 828 Come, Evenintr Gale ! -^^^1 Con:o, Holy Spirit, come 1075 Come, Thou Traveller 10(54 Come to these Scenes of Peace 1242 Come unto Me 1109 Commencement of " Dartmoor " 1513 Complaining 3('avid enamoured of Bethsabe 41S Dawuings of Genius 1412 Day of Judgment ■''53 De'Profuudis 106 Death 419 Death 4'.55 Death &4'> Death 1645 Death of Eliza, at the Battle of ]\Iinden ... 1094 Death of ^lamiion 131'> Death of Sir Henry de Bohun 34 Deathless Principle, arise ! 1073 Delight in God only 295 Description and Praise of his LoueGeraldine ^69 Description of a City Shower 772 Description of a Hare-hunt 80J Description of Armida and her Encha:ited Girdle 14S Description of Castara ^.. 322 Description of the Comers to the Fair I(i3'i Description of Haidee 1348 Description of Melrose Abbey 1314 Description of Morning 691 Description of Morning Birds and Hunting the Deer 142 Description of Spring 67 Description of Squyre Meldrura W ])escrii)tion of the Priestess of Diana 333 Despair of a Poor Scholar 444 Destruction of Sennacherib 1343 Destruction of Sennacherib's Army 1 < '92 Devotion to Love 453 Diana's Nymphs 472 Dinner given, by tho Town Mouse to the Country Mouse 49 Directions for Cultivating a Hop Garden... 84 Dirge in Cymbeline 891 Dirge of Rachel 1475 Discontent of Men with their Condition ... 250 Disdain lleturncd -'^'4 Distress of the Vessel 947 Dr. Johnson's Style 114S Domestic Happiness SO'ti Domestic Love ^'~^^ Dora I'^O^ Dorastus on Fawnia 427 Drinking Song 4o2 Drv up thy Tears, Love 152t> Dying 673 Dying in a Foreign Land 1129 xxxviu ALPHABETICAL LIST OF POEMS. E. NO. OF FOKM. Early Dawn 391 Early Frieudsbiip 17S9 Early Love 13.T Early Rising and Prayer 5o') Easter 307 Echo and Narcissus 380 Echo and Silence 1520 Echoes 1-291 Edom O'Gordon 530 Edwin and Angelina 916 Edwin and Emma 898 Elegy 961 Elegy on Thyrza 135-i Eleijy written in a Country Churchyard ... 910 England 202 England 412 England 1732 England goes to Battle 1752 England's Landscape 1516 English Liberty 1083 Enjoyment of the Present Hour recom- mended 665 Epigram 1004 Epigi-am 1005 Epigram 1006 Epigram on Sleep 1154 Epilogue 1830 Epiphany 1380 Epistle to Joseph Hill 1088 Epistle to the Earl of Dorset 789 Epitaph, Extempore 759 Epitaph on a Living Author 554 Epitaph on an Infant 1511 lipitaph on Mrs. Mason 915 Epitaph on the Countess of Pembroke 244 Epitaph on the Duke of Buckingham 268 Etexaltavit Humileg 327 Euphrosyne 1761 Eve's Recollections 627 Evening 286 Evening 393 Evening Hymn 814 Evening Hymn 820 Evening Hymn 1059 Evening in Paradise 629 Excommunication of the Ciu 1524 Expubion from Paradise 632 P. Fable of the Oak and the Briar 127 Fable related by a Beau to .iEsop 833 Fair Ines 1492 Faith 294 Fall of the Rebel Angela 2 Fancy and Desire '..... 494 Farewell to Ayrshire 1604 Farewell to the Fairies 253 Farewell to Town 116 Fatal Curiosity 831 Few Happy Matches 852 Fill the Bumper Fair 1280 First Love's iiecoilectiotjs 1411 First of March 1804 Flowers 169 Flower.^ 975 Flowers 1487 Fly to the Desert 1284 KO. OF POKM. For Hope 544 For my own Monument 760 For Thoughts 672 Fragment 1620 Friend of my Soul 1282 Friends falling off 197 Friendship , 843 Friendship 1434 From "ADirge" 275 From a " Monody to the Memory of his Wife" 1036 From a Poem entitled "Amanda" 706 From a Trip to Cambridge, or the Grateful Fair 995 From " Auster Fair" 1628 From Bishop Heber's Journal 1378 From Clifton Grove 1171 From " Conversation" 1080 From "Count Zinzendorf" 1069 From "Endyniion" 1819 From " FrientLship in Absence" 550 From his " Invocation to Jlelancholy" .... 1041 From •' Human Life " 1181 From "In Memoriam" 1706 From India 1776 From "Lilliput Levee" 1826 From"Kollo" 219 From " Scheffler " 1070 From "Tersteege" 1067 From the Bard's Song in the " Castle of Indolence" 875 From the " Bles.sed Damozcl " 1841 From the Epithalamion 128 From the " Fate of Amy " 14(i6 From the German 1068 From the German lo71 From the " Hymn to Light" 547 From the " Improvisatore " 14(50 '■ From the " London Lackpennv " 37 I From the "Loves of Gudrun'' 1839,1840 From the " Muses' Looking-glass " 359 From the Pindaric Odes 548 From the " Pleasures of Memory " 1180 From the "Portrait" 1842 From the " Prophecy of Famine" 958 From the " Voyage of Columbus" 1182 Frost at Midnight 1507 G. Garment of Good Ladies ^0 I Gentle Hugh Herries 1626 GentlestGirl 1731 Ginevra 1183 Gipsies •,'■^1 Gloomy Winter's now awa' 1602 Glo.stei-'s Soliloquy 181 Glow-worm 1270 Go, lovely Rose ! >"'91 Go, pretty Birds ! 471 Go, where Glory waits Thee 1283 God known only to Himself 854 God's Providence 40 Gold 198 Gondibert 372 Good Husbandly Lessons 86 Good-morrow 104 Good Name 208 Good-niL'-ht ! H Good-night! ; 10^ Good-ni^ht, an17 Hamlet's Soliloquy on Death 184 Hannib;d's Oath l-16(i H appincss 1 '^■\-' Hap[>ines.s of a roniitry Life i'SO Happiness of Married Life 452 Happiness of the Shepherd's Life 314 Harinosan 1802 He lamoiitoth that he had ever cause to doubt his Lady's Faith 79 Helen of Kirkconnol ICufi Hell 1«1 Henry and Emma 755 Henry, Duke of Buckingham, in the In- fernal Kefirions 98 Henry the Fifth's Address at A'.'incourt ... 179 Henry the Fifth's Address to his Soldiers before Harfleur 178 Henry the Fourth's E.xpostulation with his Son 175 Henry the Sixth's Soliloquy on the Battle- field 180 Here's a health to them that's awa' 1.^90 Hermione lt>92 Heroine of Anster Fair 1629 Hev, then, up go we 737 Highland -Mary 1586 Highland Poor 1120 Hills o' Gallowa' 1648 His hatred of the Scots 377 Hogarth 9r)4 Huheulinden 1304 Home 1389 Homer and Virgil 681 Honour 552 Hope 1239 Hope triumphant in Death 1297 Hotspur's Defence 172 Household Treasures 1815 Housewifery Physic 85 How each thing, save the Lover,-ia Spring rcvivoth to Pleasure 68 How Robin Hood lends a poor Knight Four Hundred Pounds 521 How's my Boy < 1671 Hudibra.s commencing Battle with the Rabble 040 Hudibras consulting the Lawyer 642 Hunting of the Cheviot 528 Hunting Song 1037 Hunting Song 1332 Hymn l.')37 Hymn (16th Sunday after Trinity) 1668 Hymn before Sunrise in the Vale of Cha- mouni 1504 Hymn for Family Worship 1168 Hymn for the Dead 1336 Hymn of the Hebrew Maid 1324 Hymn on Solitude 877 Hymn on the Nativity 60(5 Hymn to Advcrsit}' 908 xo. or poiic. Hymn to Content llCHj Hvmn to Contentment 810 Hymn to God the Father 24»J Hymn to Intellectual Beauty i:i75 Hymn to the Almighty 676 Hymn to the Father 228 Hymn to the Flowers 1419 Hymn to the Name of Jesus 298 I am all alone 1527 I fear thy Kisses 1363 I love my King and Country well 733 I remcmtier, I remember 1491 I thank you twice 739 lilleuess 400 ] f that were true ! 1781 II Penseroso 604 Imagination 155 Imprisoned in Windsor, he recouuteth his Pleasure there passed 64 In a Year 17J?6 In praise of Angling ]<;3 In >hc Days o' Langsyne 1646 In what manner the Soid is united to the ]5ody 224 Incitement to Perseverance lb'-i89 John the Baptist 365 Journey into France 252 Julia 347 ALPHABETICAL LIST OF POEMS. K. KO. OF POKM. Kilmcnv H>1."> King: ^Vithur's Death ^^ King David 415 King Edward IV. and the Tanner of Tam- worth {;36 KiuLT James I. and the Tinkler 717 King John and the Abbot of Canterbury .^)-29 Kisses 1748 KublaKluin liiOt) L'Allcgro 603 L' Amour Tiii'iido ■■•• 'JSS La Belle Con tidante 508 La Belle Dame sans Merci 1825 Labour and Genius, or the Millstreani and the Cascade fJS'j Lady Alice 72:i Lady Barbara 174:3 Lady Clare 1707 Langsyne Iboa Last Verses of L. E. L 1461) Lavinia ^^70 Law 455 Life 189 Life 25« Life It^yti Life and Immortality 990 Life's Progress 818 Lilliput Levee 1S-3S Lines...-. 1192 Lines addressed to my CliiMren 1128 Lines on the Death of his Eldest Son 114(j Lines to an Indian Air I'-HJ'I Lines to Fanny 1807 Lines written in a Lonely Burial-ground in the Highlands 1423 Lints written in the Churchyard of Rich- mond, Yorkshire 1383 Little Children l'J59 Little John in the Service of the Sheriff of Nottingham 523 Little Red Riding Hood 1472 Love and Glory 1138 Love and Nature 1518 Ijove Divine, all Love excelling 1 072 I-K>ve in the Valley 1744 Love in Women 097 Love of Country 13] 5 Loveof Praise 800 NO. OF POKir. Love not 1735 Lovo will find out the way 534 Love without Return 408 Love's Darts 339 Love's Darts 483 Love's Farewell 599 Love's History 1702 Love's Philosophy 1304 Love's Servile Lot 108 Loyalty confined 513 Lucy 1193 Lucy's Flittin' 1049 Lullaby 434 Lycidas 005 M. Macbeth, before Murdering the King 185 MacFlecknoe 660 Madness of Orestes 407 Mahmoud 1404 Maid of Athens 1338 Man 309 Man's Mortality 501 Many, many Years ago 1810 Marcelia 1074 Marguerite of France 1440 Mariner's Hymn 1533 Markxii. 17 301 Mark Antony's Oration on the Body of Ca3sar 187 Marriage of Cupid and Psyche — Psyche's Banishment 11 21 Mary 142S Mary Morison 1578 Mary of Castle Cary 1597 Mary, the Maid of the Inn 1226 Mary's Dream 1046 ^lassacre of the Macpherson 1602 Maternal Care 1299 May, 1795 1257 May Day 1153 Melancholy 215 Meldrum's Duel with the English Champion, Tiilbart 01 Meleager Dying 1 834 .Memory of the Dead 1812 Mercury and Cupid 753 Mercy 24 Mercy 105 Mercy and Truth 17 Mercy should have mitigated Justice 933 Midnight Hymn 821 Midnight Wind 1635 Miriam's Song 1290 Miscellaneous Thoughts 044 Mr. Murray's Proposal .' 1294 Moonlight 783 Moonriso 1794 Morning '. 285 Morning 771 Morning 940 Morning and Evening 1729 Morning Hymn 812 Morning Hymn 819 Morning in May 57 Morning in Paradise 028 Morning Landscape 989 Mother and Son 1770 Mortimer, Earl of March, and the Qneen, surj.rised by Edward III. in Notting- ham Castle 141 ALPHABETICAL LIST OF POEMS. xli no. oy rojM. Mountain Childron Itj.'io Music's Duel ^'lO M usidora 607 Mustering of the Trades to shoot lor tho SillerGun 160S Mutability 137(5 My Bouiiio .Mary 1577 My FhuIhsv will iiovur turn «jy7 My Heart's in the Highlands 1580 My Heavenly Father antl His erring Child li79 My Held is liko to rend, Willie 1C38 My Nanic, IIJIS My only Jo and Dearie, O l'i"3 M J' own dear Country 173'! My Wife's a winsome, wee Thing 15&S N. Napoleon and tho Sailor 1311 Naseby lyl>7 Nature and Love -13 Nee Sutor ultra ^l^'^ Nehusta's Lover 1 7ti5 Netley Abbey 12y'> Newborn Death 1 !>'i3 Night l«ti Night '288 Night 855 Night 1384 Night l';75 Night and Music , 1'*' Night at Sea 14(i-l Night is nigh gone 3'.JU No Age content, with his own Estate _0.) No JcwoH'd Beauty is my Love 174<3 No Treasure without Gladness i>3 Nomine Labia mea aperies 325 Nongtonsjfpaw 1 1 39 Noon lo4S Noontide Hymn f5l3 Noontide of a Summer's Day 31i2 Not ours the Vows 145tj Note to Moschus ^^>y Nothing on Earth Permanent _ t> Notre Dame 1549 November 1574 Nymph complaining for tho Death of her Fawn 606 0, ! breathe not his Name 12S7 ! Mary, go and call tho Caitjo Home 1799 O ! Nanny, wilt thou gang wi' Me 937 O ! where do Fairies hide their Heads 1502 Ode 236 Ode 876 Ode 888 Ode i^i'S Ode 1198 Ode from 1 1 orace 826 Ode ona Cirecian Urn 1823 Ode on hearing the Drum 1019 Ode on Mankind 1044 Ode on Privateering 102O Ode on the Death of Thomson 892 Ode on the Spring 911 Ode sent to a Friend on bis leaving a favourite Village 971 Ode to a Nightingale 1822 Ode to an Indian Gold Com 1131 no. «r ror.v. Ode to Aurora 977 Ode to Evening sjjg Ode to ludepondenuo 921 Oile to l^ovcn-water 9*^2 Oi-lo to Memory by5 Ode to Memory J<14 Ode to Peace W-i Ode to Pity 887 Ode to Solituilo 1015 Ode to Spring 1104 Ode to the Evening Star 1134 Odo to the Right Hon. John Lord Gowcr Kii Ode to the West Wind 1372 <-Enone's Complaint 409 Of a Precise Tailor li>:l Of a' tho Aii-ts the Wind can blaw 1583 Of(;hurch 1.56 Of l^iscrotion in Giving 54 01 Discretion in Taking 55 Of Fortune 151 Of Heaven 555 Of Mvself 640 Of So'litude 553 OfthoOueen 595 Of Treason 150 Of Writers who carp at other Men's Books 152 Oh! lay thy Hand in mine. Dear ! 1756 Oh, the pleasant Days of Old : 1783 Old Age and Death 592 Old England 1751 On a Distant Prospect of Eton College 907 On a Distant View of England 1252 On a Girdle 585 On a Sprig of Heath 1119 On aTear 1188 On an Infant Dying as soon as bom 1231 On Jiishop Atterbury's Burying the Duke of Buckingham, MDccxx 762 On King's Ciillcye Cha|>el, Cambridge llS'l On leaving a \'illage in Scotland 1250 On Life, IJeath, and Immortality 856 On Love 5S6 On Loving at First Sight OnO On Lucy, Countess of Bedford 240 On May Aloruing 610 On Mr. W. Jlontague's Ketum fiom Tiiivel 2f>5 On Mrs. A. H. at a Concert 1030 On my Lady Isabella playing the Lute 597 On my Lady Sydney's Picture 596 On Phillis VValking before Sunrise 378 On Pecovery (nun Sickness I06 On Shakspere 157il On the Birth of the Princess Royal 1397 On tho Day of Judgment 653 On the Death of George III. 142it On the Death of Sir Bevil Grcnville 482 On tho Death of Dr. Robert Levett 88'; On the Death of the Pev. William Benwell 1259 On the Departure of the Nightingale I(i99 On the Earl of Strafford's Trial and Death 577 Outho Funci-al of Charles 1 124:'. On the Poverty of Poets 9.'<."> On the llcceipt of his Mothers Pictiu-o .... B'Sl On tlie Sight of his Mistress' House 708 On tho Sudden Post mint of the E;irl of So- merset, then falling from favour 162 On tho Tomb of Mrs. Cnwin IWi On Vicissitude 912 One Summer Night ^i'-'? One Waj- of Love 1785 ALPHABETICAL LIST OF POEMS. NO. OP POFM. One Word is too often profaned 1 3(37 Opening; of Queen Mab 13.59 Opening of ttie Minstrel 9SS Opening of the Second Book of the Task... 1086 Opening of the Songs of Zion 147-1 Order and Obedience '20S Owen of Carron t'3.5 Ozymandias of Egypt 1370 Palamon and Arcite ; or, the Knight's Tale fi.iO Paradise b25 Parting 088 Parting l.)29 Passage of the Ilcd Sea 1377 Passing away 1444 Passions 090 Patience ._. 430 Patient Grissell ....'. TriO Path of Life 1201 Paucitatem Dienim meorum nuncia mihi.. 320 Peace 5.">9 Peace! What do tears avail .' 10!)fl Pericles and Aspa'^ia 1 ^)'i8 Persian Song of Hadz 1012 Personal Appearance of Iludibras 039 Persuasion to ^Mothers to Suckle their own Children 1090 Persuasions to Love 200 Pestilence of the Fifteenth Century 927 Phoebe Dawson 1175 Philanthropy — Mr. Howard 109.5 Philomela 17<)0 Philomela's Ode 42.5 Pibroch of Donuil Dim 1322 Picture of a Witch 089 Picture of Twilight 1710 Picture of War 1482 Pictures of Native Genius 1').54 Pixies of Devon 1.51.5 Plague Scenes 1420 Plighting Troth 212 Portrait of a Poor Gallant 249 Posies for thine own Bedchamber 89 Power and Gentleness ; or, the Cataract and Streamlet 1453 Prai.se of a Coimti-y Life 807 Praise of Chastity 607 Praise of Good Women 15 Prai.se of Women 27 Prai.se to God lllO Prattle your Pleasure under the Hose 742 Prayer 1388 Prayer 1519 Pr.iyer for Indifference 987 I'rayer for Seasonable Wtather 284 Pre-e.\istency of the Soul 575 Preparation for Execution 448 Preparing to meet God 1002 Pride of Youth 1330 Primro.se 12<;6 Prince Arthur's Address to-Night 131 Principal Points of Religion 90 Procrastination 858 Proper U.se of Talents 204 Protogenes and Apelles 757 Psalm xiii 500 P.salm xxiii 499 I'salm xxiii., Paraphrase on 77" P.salm XXX 498 Psalm xlii 478 NO. OK POBM. Psalm xlviii 479 Psalm civ 823 Psahn cxlviii. Paraphrased 281 R. Rainbow 310 Reality of a True Religion 157 Reason 658 Rebollion 1543 Recollections of English Scenery 1101 Recommendation of a High Situation on the Sea-coast 925 Reconciliation 1 704 Red, Red Rose 1584 Reflections ; 1178 Reign of Christ on Earth 1392 Religion of Hudibras 638 Remorse 840 Remorse 952 Render to Ca;sar the Things which are Cajsar's 1817 Requiescat in Pace ! 1832 Requirements of a Tutor 248 Retaliation 917 Retirement 991 Richard II., the Jlorning before his Murder 137 Richard the Second's Lament 170 Rinaldo at Mount Olivet and the Enchanted Wood 149 Robene and Maky ne 38 Robert, Duke of Normandy, previously to his Eyes being put out 496 Robin Goodfellow 510 Robin Hood and Allen-a-Dale 517 Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne 519 Robin Hood and the Curial Friar 520 Robin Hood reimburses himself of his Loan 524 Robin Hood rescuing the Widow's three Sons 518 Robin Hood's Death and Burial 525 Rock of Ages, cleft for Me 1074 Rondel of Love 387 Rosabelle 1331 Rosader's Sonetto 430 Rosalind's Madrigal 429 Rosiphele's V'ision of Ladies 30 Rule Britannia 879 Rumour 1' 3 Rural Sounds 10' 9 Ruth 14; 3 S. Sabbath Chi mes Sad n ess St. Pcter'sDay St. Romuald Sally in our Alley Samela Samson bewailing his Blindness and Cap- tivity Sardanapalus Satan Satan meets Sin and De.ath Satan's Address to the Sun Satan's Speech Satire Say, lovely Dream ! Scene of Early Love Scenes and Musings of the Peasant Poet... 1701 502 1797 1227 1035 420 616 1723 1546 622 620 •> t) 777 590 1432 1413 ALPHABETICAL LIST OF POEMS. iliii JtO. OP POKM. Scorn not the Least 112 Scotland 1135 Scotland ll-''6 Search after (!od 47*5 Self-inspection ^**0 Self-munlcr *^^^ Sent with a rose, to Rose 1808 Sophostia's Son),' to her Child ■422 Severed Friendship LOIO She walks in Beauty 1 ^i>3 She's tfane to dwell in Heaven 1 S21 Sheepfold 12t>5 Shepherds and Shepherdesses 4H0 Shepherd's Sonp 474 Sliipwrock by Drink 47.') Shipwreckeil Solitary's Song to the Night . 1170 Showers in Spring 8H4 Sic Vita 255 Sir Fr.ancis Drake 492 Sir.lobn Barleycorn 719 Sir Sidney Smith 1137 Sit down, Sad Soul 1(_>95 Sketches from a Painter's Studio 1775 Sleep 174 Sleep 497 Smoking Spiritualized 711 Smollett '. 95:3 Softly woo away her breath 1688 Solilociuy of Richard the Second in Prison 171 Soliloquy of the Spanish Cloister 1787 Solitarj' Life 395 Song by Love, to Physander and Bellanima 376 Song by Kogcro, in the '• Hovers" 1145 Song for a Highland Drover returning from England 1127 Song for St. Cecilia's Day at Oxford 7t>3 Song for the Seasons 168(3 Song — 3Iay Eve ; or, Ivato of A berdeen . . . 1022 Song of Hesperus 239 Song of Honest Recreation 403 Song of the Brook 1703 Song of the Danish Sea King 1641 Song of the CJ reek Poet 1344 Song of the Virgins celebrating the Victory 1 237 Songof Wood Nymphs 1679 Song— The Blind Bov 1033 Song-The Parting Kiss lOOO Song to Apollo 408 Song to Colia 242 Songto David 994 Song to Echo 1098 Songto May 1097 Song to ^lorpheus 578 SongtoP.an 220 Songs, 216, 232, 241, 254, 258, 2.^9, 260, 262, 2i;3, 289, 290, 2i)6, 329, 332, 343, 3.^)2, 356, 373, 4S8, 571, (i')4, t)5(i, 657, MS, 670, 679, 680, 683, 684, 685, 690, 701, 702, 703, 704, 705, 748, 811, 824, 827, 830, 835, 836. 837, 838, 882, 883, 899, 984, 1001. 1021, 1039, 1040, UV2. 1113, 1118, 1286, 1302. 1319, 1320, 1485, 1499, 1508. 1564, 1573. 1651, 1790. Sonnet made on Isabella Markham 99 Sonnet on a Wet Summer lOdH Sonnet on Ace of Twenty-three 612 Sonnet on His Blindness 613 Sonnet on His late Deceased Wife 614 Sonnet on Sabbath Morn 1130 Sonnet on the Late Massacre in Piedmont 615 Sonnet, supposed to bo written at Lemnos 1043 Sonnet to the Nightingale 611 Sonnet to the Redbreast 1008 JiO. Of rOBK. Sonnet to Valclusa 1042 Sonnet uj")!! a St The Apple Dumplings and a King 1150 The Apple of Life 1^29 The Armies at Salanus P98 The Arraignment of n Lover 101 The Astronomical Lady f*^l The Author's Picture 978 xliv ALPHABETICAL LIST OF POEMS. >"0. OF POBM. The Awakinir of Endymion 1 4'i;> The Halhi'l of Aijincourt l-l;5 The Baby's Debut, by \V. W lU.") TheBarl !>"!• The Brittle of Byland's Path ;5t The Bee ^>->l^ The Besjijar I^-' The Belgian Lovers and the Plague lOW The Bouer Land l-l-i> The Birth of Christ S22 The Birth of Robin Hood ."^0 The Blackbird ISDO The Black-cock 1^"1 The Bhnd Beirgar of Beduall Green 7U The Blood Horse land, and the King of England's Daughter 721 The Break of Day 233 The Bridal 187 The Brown Jug 1014 The Brownie of Blednock I'JoO The Bud 589 The Burial of Sir John Mooro 1.j62 The Burial of the Righteous IKSl The Burial- March of Dundee HHJS The Bush aboon Traquair 1028 The Call '^''S The Cameronian Cat 738 The Cameronian's Dream 1C52 The Canterbury Tales 19 The Catholick 712 The Cavalier's Farewell to his Mistress ... 743 The Cavalier's Song 1636 The Cave 5*39 The Chameleon 1016 The Character of Chatham 1077 The Cherry and the Slae 3S9 The Child and the Mourners 1738 The Child and the Watcher 1559 The Childe of Elle 535 The Child's First Grief 1448 The Christening 1232 The Cliristiad 1109 The Chronicle 5-tl The Church-builder 839 The Cloud 1-300 The Cobbler and the Vicar of Bray 744 The Coming of Winter 441 The Commencement of Dartmoor 1513 The Common Doom 4v VO. OF POBU. The Garland 7.'>4 The Giants and the Abbey 12% The (Jipsy's Malison 12y;J The Girl of Cadiz 1339 The (iladiator., 134') The Gout without a Beard 79tJ The Goldea Aj?e 3!) The Golden (ilovo 71'j The Good Mim IW The Good Time coming 1741 The Gospel K'S? The Grand Question debated 775 The Grasp of the Dead 1467 The Grave 8^2 The Grave 847 The(;i-avo 1385 The Grave of Anna 1141 The Graves of a Household 1439 The Greenland Jlissionarics 1078 The Greenwich Pensioners 1240 The Greenwood 1241 The Hamlot, an Ode 9(55 The Happy Man 8 The Happy Man 878 The Happy Marriaj,'e 1034 The Hnre and many Friends 801 The Harp that once through Tara's Halls . 128.'> The Harvest Storm 871 The Haunch of Vetison 920 The Haymaker's Song 728 The Heirof Linne 537 The Helmets 981 The Hermit 809 The Hermit 992 The Heroine of Auster Fair 1629 The Hitrhland Poor 1120 The Hills o' Gallowa' 1648 The Hitohin :\ray-day Song 727 The Holly Tree 1215 The Homes of England 1436 The Hour of Prayer 1443 The House of Fame 23 The House of Riches 129 The Hunter's Song 1684 The Huntinir of the Cheviot 528 The Husband's Return 1596 The Image of Death Ill The Image of Jealousy in the Chapel of Diana 334 The Immortality of the Soul 225 The Impressed Sailor Boy 1163 The Inchcape Rock 1224 The Induction to the Complaint of Henry, Duke of Buckingham 96 The Inquiry 384 The Interview of Vortigern with Rowen... 14 The Invocation and Introduction to Para- dise Lost 619 The Ivy Green 1818 The Jews' Return to Jerusalem 9S0 The Journey onwards V3^S The Jovial Hunter of Bromsgrove 722 The Just Indic'iiaiionof the Oppressed 277 The Reach i' the Creel 718 The King of Denmark's Ride 1716 The King's Answer 177 The Kiss, a Dialogue 340 The Kitten 1473 The Knight releases his Lands and suc- cours a Yeoman 522 The Lad.ler tu Thrift ^83 The Lady's Looking-glass 750 The Lady's Song in "Comus" 608 VO. OP rOFM. The Land of My Birth 1721 The Lauding ot the I'dgriiii Fatbora 1451 Tho Languid Lady 8^52 The Lark 473 The Lass of Lochroyan 539 The Last Joi:niey 15:52 The Lust Time 1 came o'er the Moor 825 The List Verses of Chaucer 28 The Light of other Days 1292 The Lily 1122 Tie Lion and Giraffe 1479 The Lion and ihe Cub 794 The Long-ago 1719 The Lost Leader 1788 The Lit of Thousands 1115 The Love of Praise fc6<) 'i'he Love that is requited with Disdain _93 The Loved One was not there 1743 The Lover complaineth of the Unkindness of His Love 72 The Lover requesteth some Friendly Com- fort, affirming his Constancy 92 The Lover's Lute cannot be blamed, though it sing of his Lady's Unkind- ness 73 The Loval Soldier 746 The Ma"d Lover 382 The Madman's Song 447 The Madness of Orestes 467 The Maid's Lament 1272 The Maid of Neidpath 1329 The Man of Ross 779 The Mariner's Wife 929 The Marriage of Cupid and Psyche 1121 The Massacre of the Macpherson 1662 'I'he Means to attain Happy Life *'>6 The Memory of the Dead 1793 The Men of Forty-eight 1745 The Men of Old 1718 The Merle and Nightingale 51 The Mermaid 1132 The Messiah 630 The Messiah 776 The Midges dance aboon the Burn 1601 The Midnight Messenger 710 The Midnight Ocean 1424 The Midnight Wind 1635 The Minion Wife 399 The Ministry of Angels 130 The Minstrel'sSong iu Ella 944 The Miser 844 The Miser's Mansion 1218 The M iseries of a Poet's Life 950 The Monkey 1655 The Monkey who had seen the World 792 The Mo(jn was a- waning 1614 The Morning Star 375 The Mothers Hand 1699 The Mother's Heart 1711 The Mother's last Song 16S9 The Mow 726 'I'he Muster for the First Crusade 13 The Nabob IIO'; The New Litany 73o The New-mown Hay '30 The New Year 646 The New Year's Gift 1472 The Night before the Battle of Waterloo... 1308 The Niyhtpioce ; or, a Picttire Drawn in the Dark <»f'2 ThoNiiihtingalo 1506 The Nobility exhorted to the Patronage of Learning 1"" HO. OP roFM. The Nobleman's generous Kindness 7*20 The Noontide of a Summer's Day 3ii- TheNun l-^'J^ The Nutbrown .Maid '•'■* The Nymph's Reply ]\\ The Nymphs to their May Queen 1-; The Odour f^-'^ The Old and Young Courtier )11 The Old Arm-chair l'-<' The Old Familiar Faces I'^^^O The Old Farm-gate 1'-? The Old Hen and the Cock rJ^ The Old Man's Comforts l"2-3 The Old Man's Wish <5S6 The Old Protestant's Litany 730 The Old Water-mill I'ri The One Gray Hair l-< ' The Only Rest ' The Orphan Bov l'"'! The Orphan Boy's Tale HI''. The Outlaw 1^-!:; The Owl 1'^*':,' The Owl and the Bell >-f>i The Oxford Riddle 50/ The Painter lO'*-^ The Painter who pleased Nobody and Every- body 793 The Palmer |l^2^ The Parish Workhouse and Apothecary ... 11/-J The Parrot 1310 The Parting of Lovers 1/3/^ The Passionate Shepherd to his Love H-j The Past ]Vi' The Pauper's Death-bed iJ'^i The Philosopher's Devotion of2 The Pil^nims and the Peas 1147 The Pixies of Devon lol-J The Poet and the Rose 800 The Poet's Bridal-day Song lt)2i The Poet's Hour 1547 The Poet's Song to his Wife 1687 The Power of Love ^17 The Praise of a Solitaiy Life 3bb The Pre-existency of the Soul 57 J The Preparation for Execution 448 The Pride of Youth IpO The Primrose '-'P The Primrose • 140^ The Prisoner of Chillon 1<'4.J The Progress of Discontent 973 The Progi-ess of Love 904 The Prophecy 942 The Puritan '40 The Queen 1774 The Quiet Life '8-J The liainVjow 310 The Rainbow 5b2 The lieal and the Ideal 4.^) The Reaper l^O'j The Jteconcilialion 1704 The Re-cured Lover exulteth in his Free- dom, and voweth to remain Free imtil Death „74 ThePweign of Chri.st on Earth 139J The Resolve 381 The Resurrection 849 The Retirement 648 The Retreat 564 The Return of David IL from Captivity ... 44 The Rime of the Ancient Mariner 1503 The Puose ^f'*,' The lioundhead .- '41 The Sabbath Day 1422 no. OF POBM. The Sailing of Beowulf 9 The Sailor's Farewell 1038 The Sailor's Wife 1742 The Saint's Encouragement 370 The Scholar 1220 The Schoolmistress 893 The Sea 1681 The Sea 18-;^ The Sea in Calm 1683 The Seasons of Life 181^ The Secret Way 1828 The Seeds of Love 671 The Seeker 816 The Self-banished i 601 The seiinestered Retirement of Bent worth 283 The Shepherd and his Wife 423 The Shepherd Boy 1462 The Ship departing from the Haven 946 The Shipwreck of the Caravel of Grace .... 56 The Shipwrecked Solitary's Song 1170 The Sick Man and the Angel 797 The Skylark ■ 1613 The Sleep 1561 The Sleeping Beauty 1184 The Sleeping Figure of Modena 16/6 The Soldier's Dream 1308 The Soldier's Home 1125 The Solitary Tomb 1458 The Song of the Enamoured Shepherd 410 The Song of the Shirt 1496 The Songs of Birds 405 The Sorcerers of Vain Delights 311 The Soul and Body 574 The Soul in Despair 5 The Soul's Errand 119 The Soul'sErrand 503 The Spanish Lady's Love 538 The Spirit's Epilogue ill "Comus" 609 The Splendid Shilling 666 The Spring 368 The Squire and the Dove l-^b The Squiere's Tale 20 The Star of Bethlehem 116/_ The Starry Heavens 1481 The Stormy Petrel 1682 The Stranger and his Friend 1393 The Suicide 9/0 The Summer's Queen 432 The Sun rises bright in France 1627 The Swearer 863 The Sweets of Beauty 464 The Tale of the (Joft'ers or Caskets 29 The Tar for all Weathers 1136 The Tears of Scotland 923 The Tempestuous ?]vening 1018 Tlie Temptation of Eve 4 The Theatre 1414 The Thief and the Cordelier iOb The Thougl)t of Death 674 The Three Knights 713 The Three Sons 1801 The Three States of Woman 4.50 The Three Warnings 1026 The Thrush's Nest 1410 The Timber 501 The Toilet '80 The Tomb ,565 The Town Child and Country Child 1624 'J'he Town Ladies 388 The Traveller 918 The Treasures of the Deep 1437 The Troubadour 1468 The Tub Preacher '34 ALPHABETTCAL LIST OF POEMS. ilvii HO. OF FOBM. The Twa Sisters o' Binnorio 527 The Two April Mornings 1212 The Unknown Grave 1531! The Upas in Marylobono Lane 1417 The U.selul Plow 721 The Uses of Adversity 191 The Valediction 570 The Vanity of Human Learning 221 The Vanity of Human Wishes 88ii The Vanity of the IJoautilul 103 The Vanity of tho World 293 The Vessel going to I'iecos 94!> The Voice of Spring 1438 The Voice of the Dying 20(5 The Voice of the Morning lt)98 The Votaress of Diana 33*i The Waiting-maid 551 Tho Wanderer 841 The W' andoring Wind 1 450 The War of the League 1505 Tho Water! the Water ! 1634 Tho Water Lady 1498 The Water o' Wearie's Well 532 The Widow and Child 17u5 Tiie Widow Bird 1374 The Widowed Mother 1213 The Widowed Mother 1429 The Wife 495 The Wife's Appwxl 1778 The Wife's Funeral 1179 TheWild Huntsman 1334 The Will 230 The Winds 87 The Winter Evening 1084 Tho Wish 540 The Wish 678 The Wish 1017 The Witch's Cave 335 The Wreath 5(i3 The Woodman's Walk 50.'. The Work-girl's Song 398 The World a Stage 193 The World is too much with us 1190 The Worn W^edding King 1768 The Young Man's Wish 709 The Younu' Maxwell 1619 Theodore and Honoria 6t>4 There be those 14.'>5 There is an Ancient Man 1733 There is a Oardcu in her Face 486 There's no Dearth of Kindness 1753 They are all pone 560 They come, the Merry Summer Months ... 1633 Think on tliy Home 364 Think not of the Future 1501 Thomas the Pvbvmer 531 Those Evening Bells 12S8 Thou art gone to the Grave 1381 Thou hast vow'd l)y thy Faith, my Jeanio 1625 Thoughts of Heaven Iii42 Thoui.'hts in a Garden 633 Thoughts on Time 857 Thus stood hisMiud 1430 Time's Alteration 512 Time's Song 1814 Times go by turns 110 Tintorn Abbey 1195 'TisthoLast Rose of Simimor 1278 To a Beloved One 1754 To a Brother Poet 276 To a Child embracing his Mother 1 489 To a Coy Lady 3S3 To a Cricket .^ 1764 ICO. or FOiv. To a Daisy .- 1391 To a Distant Friend 1200 Toa Family liible 1447 To a Highland Girl 119(5 To a Lady 698 To a Lady 778 To a Lady admiring Herself in a Looking- jrlass 358 To a Lady I know, aged One 1771 Toa Lady with a Guitar 1371 To a Lady with some Painted Flowers 1105 To a Mountain Daisy 1575 To a Nightingale 361 ToaSkylark 1361 To a Sleeping Child 1421 To a Sleeping Chil4 1837 To a Tuft of Early Violets 1143 To a very Young Lady 667 To Althea (from Prison) 355 ToAmoret 593 To an Early Primrose 1165 To Autumn 1521 To Belshazzar 1357 To Blossoms 341 ToCastara 317 To (.'a.stara, inquiring why I loved her 318 To Castara (tho Record of Innocent Love) 323 To Certain Golden Fishes 1572 To Cliarlotte Pulteney 791 ToChloe 338 To Corinna 351 To Daffodils 342 To Fancy 974 To Ferdinand Seymour 1712 To find God 350 To Hester 1228 To his Coy Love 145 To his Empty Purse 22 To his Heart 3S6 To his Lute 362 To his Mistress 78 To his Mistress 645 To his Mistress, the Queen of Bohemia ... 158 To his Son Vincent Corbet 251 To his Wife 1126 To his Wife 1500 Tolanthe 1133 To Lucasta (going to the Wars) 353 To Lucasta (from Prison) 354 To Macaulay 1276 To Mary (Mrs. Unwin) 1082 To Mary in Heaven 1587 ToMeadows 344 To Mrs. Bishop 1002 To Mrs. Bishop 1003 To Mistress Margaret Hussey 63 To my Candle 1155 To my Daughter, on being separated from her on her Marriage 1114 To my Daughter, on her Birthday 1490 To my Noblest Friend 324 To my Picture 36'"i TomvSon llt'4 To Phyllis 694 To Posterity 493 To Primroses filled with Morning Dew ... 346 To Religion l^*.) To Roses in the Bosom of Castara 316 ToSaxham 269 To Seymors 321 ; To Sleep 21S [ To Sleep 1210 d xlriii ALPHABETICAL LIST OF POEMS. NO. OF FOBU. ToT. L. H., six 3'ears old, during a Sick- ness 1398 To the Bramble Flower 1552 To the Butterdy 1187 To the Comet of ISll 1016 To the Cuckoo 9')2 To the Cuckoo Ili02 To the Daisy 1203 To the Eai-1 of Warwick on the Death of Addison 785 To the Evening Primrose 1454 To the Evening Star 682 To the Evening Star 1301 To the First Cuckoo of the year 1816 To the Glowworm 1405 To the Grasshopper and the Cricket 1399 To the Holy Trinity 237 To the ISIemory of a Lady 1540 To the Memory of the First Lady Lyttelton 906 To the Night 1365 To the Nightingale 707 To the Passions 890 To the Queen 374 To the Reverend Dr. Ayscough 905 To the River Chenvell 1253 To the River Nith 1607 To the River Tweed : 1248 To the River Wensbeck 1247 To the Skylark 1201 To the Snowdrop" 1678 To the Spring '. 320 To the Tron Kirk Bell 1054 To Thomas Moore 1337 To Time 1238 To Tom Bowling 1140 ToW. G. B 1773 To-morrow, Lord, is Thine 1060 Town and Country 1484 Translation of Horace, Odes, I. .'> 617 Tribute to a Mother on her Death 1089 True Beauty in Woman 1821 Tullochgorum 1050 Tweedside 1029 Twenty-eight and Twenty-nine 1709 Two April Mornings 1212 U. Una and the Red Cross Knight 124 Una followed by the Lion 125 Under the Holly Bough 1739 Unprepared for Death 845 L^pon his Mistress sad 379 Upon Westminster Bridge 1204 Urania 1759 V. Valediction 231 Vanity of Earthly Things 52 Variety 986 Verses 832 Verses on a most stony-hearted Maiden ... 100 Verses on his Own Death 774 Verses written when alone in an Inn at Southampton 1031 Vicarious Justice 641 Virgin Purity , 580 Virtue 303 HO. OF POEM. Virtue and Vice.. 435 Vision of Beishazzar , 1356 W. Walking the Streets of London 805 War Song on the Victoiy of Brunnenbijrg 1296 Warriors 699 Washing-day ....'. ; 1107 We are Brethren a' 1643 We have been Friends together 1713 Weary of Wandering 1065 Wedding Words 1769 Welcome to the Forest's Queen 463 What ails this Heart o' mine ? 1103 What is Heaven? 16 WhatisLife? 292 What is Life? 1407 What is Love? 470 What Love is like 451 What might be done 1740 When I beneath the cold red Earth am sleeping , 1640 When the King comes Home in Peace again 732 When the Kye comes Hame 1612 When we two parted 1342 Where shall the Lover Rest ? ." 1328 Whitbread's Brewery visited by their Majesties 1151 Wife, Children, and Friends 1396 Wild Flowers 1644 William and Margaret 897 Willow Song 1449 Winter Evening in the Country 1085 Winter Redbreast 1268 Wishes for Obscurity 695 Wolseyon his Fall 182 Wolsey's Ambition 490 Wolsey's Vision 491 Woman's Voice 1758 Woo'd and married and a' 1045 Work-girl's Song 398 Wreathe the Bowie 1279 Wretchedness of a School Usher 951 Written at an Inn at Henley 896 Written at the Close of Spring 1100 Written at Tynemouth, Northumberlamd, after a Tempestuous Voyage 1245 Written in a blank leaf of Dugdale's "Monasticon" 967 Written in Early Spring 1211 Written on a Visit to the Country in Autumn 963 Yarrow Visited 1199 Ye Mariners of England 1305 Ye're all the Woriil to me, Lassie 1813 Young Lochinvar 1317 Young Love 6i55 Youth and Age 1221 Youth and Age ....,„, 1355 Zara's Ear-rings..,.. ,=..,: 1523 NO. OF FOBM. A band, a bobwig, and a feather 833 A braco of sinners, for no trood 1147 A broad stream, smooth with deep-gras's'd fields 1775 A chieftain to the Highlands bound 1307 A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun 1425 A cobbler and a curate once disputed 509 A country life is sweet ! 724 A curious eye 334 A curse upon that faithless maid 704 A face that should content mo wondrous well J6 A fair }'oimg May went up the street 718 A flock of sheep that leisurely pass bj' 1210 A fool ! a lool ! 1 met a fool i' the forest 192 A fox, in life's extreme decay 798 A gentle knight was pricking on the plain 124 A gentle maid, of rural breeding 986 A gentle srjuire would gladly entertain 248 A good Pope was thilk time at Rome that hecht Urban 13 A happy bit hame this auld world would be 1643 A jewel for my lady's ear 1769 "A knife," dear girl, "cuts love," they say! 1002 A Icarn'd society of late 643 A little child, beneath a tree 1738 A little onward lend thy efuiding hand 616 A mighty pain to love it is 542 A monkey, to reform the times 792 A mother's love — how sweet the name ! . ... 1390 A noble marquess 526 A nobleman lived in a village of late 720 A parmt from the Spanish main 1310 A poor wayfaring man of grief 1393 A quack (too scandalously mean to name) 652 A star has left the kindling sky 1469 A steed I a steed of niatchlcss speed 1636 A tailor, thought a man of upright dealing 153 A thousand miles from laud are wo 1682 A thousand jiretty ways we'll think upon... 550 A tree grew in .lava, whoso pestilent rind... 1417 A veteran gambler, in a tempest taught... 1006 A wandering orphan child wiis I 1690 A warrior so boM and a virgin so bright... 1313 A wealthy young squire of Tamworth, we hear 716 A weary lot is thine, fair maid 1320 A wet sheet and a (lowing sea 1623 A widow bird sate niourninc: for her love... 1374 A wretch had committed all manner of evil 839 A! fredome is a nobill thing 1 32 .NO. OP POEM. Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase I) 1402 Acta;on lost, in middle of his sport 123 -Vdieu, farewell earth's bliss 442 Adieu to Ballyshannon ! where I was bred and born 1838 Ae fond kiss, and then we sever I.'"i76 Afar in the desert I love to ride 147.5 ASr\c is all the sun's, and as her earth ISfd After giving, I speak of taking 55 Again, how can she but immortal be ? 225 Again, sweet siren, breathe again 1133 Again the chief th' instructive draught ex- tcndt M8 Ah ! Chloris, that I now could sit 667 Ah! Count}' (Juy, the hour is nigh 1327 Ah ! fi-om mine eyes the tears mibidden start 12.'52 Ah ! I remember well (and how can 1 135 Ah, lovely Lichfield ! that so long hast shono 1111 Ah, me ! full sorely is my heart forlorn ... 893 Ah, me ! the little tyrant thief 357 Ah, mourn, thou loved retreat ! Is'o more 971 Ah, ope. Lord Gre^iory, thy door :. 1152 Ah, the poor shepherd's mournful fate 883 Ah, were she pitiful as she is fair 427 .\h ! what a weary race my feet have run 966 Ah! what is love ; It is a j)retty thing ... 424 Ah ! who can tell how hard it is to climb... 988 Alas! in how grim 5 -Mas ! that moon should ever beam 149S Alas ! they had been friends in youth 1510 Alexis .shunned his fellow-swains 749 All human thing-s are subject to decay 660 All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd 802 All June I boini44 All ye, who far from town, in rural hall — 1009 All ve Woods, and trees, and bow'rs 220 Alm"ighty Father ! let Tliy lowly child I'.'T Alone she was, her head against the w:dl .. 1 ^'.'.' Along the garden walk I stra\'d ]^"7 Along the mead Europa walks ."'V.) Amang the birks sae Mithe and gay 164S 4'J An old song made bj' an aged old pate f)!! And are ye sure the news is true ? D-O And doth not a meeting like this make amends 1 281 And down the cliff the island virgin came 1349 And eke this house hath of entries 23 And first within the porch and jaws of hell 97 And hast thou sought thy heavenly home... 1534 And is the swallow gone? 1661 And is there care in heaven ? And is there love 130 And is this the old mill-stream that ten years ago 1 724 And is this. Yarrow ? — this the stream 1199 And now before young David could come in 144 And now, lashed on by destiny severe 949 And now, philanthropy ! thy rays divine... 1095 And now, to be brief, let's' pass over the rest 717 And now, imveiled, the toilet stands dis- played 780 And Rachel lies in Ephrath's land 1475 And so I glad^ of the season sweet 25 And the night was dark and calm 1466 And then came Covetise, can I him not descrive? 18 And thou art dead, as young and fair ... 1354 And thou hast walk'd about (how strange astory') 1418 And well our Christian sires of old 1335 And what is life ? An hour-glass on the run 1407 And what's a life ? — a weary pilgrimage . . . 292 And when the king wist that they were ... 34 And where have you been, my Mary 1654 And wherefore do the poor complain? 1222 And wit thou leave me thus 77 And with that word she smiled, and ne'er- theless 148 Anger, in hasty words or blows 586 Another nymph, amongst the many fair ... 758 Are they not senseless, then, that think the soul 222 Ariel to Miranda : — Take 1371 Array'd a half-angelic sight 1232 Art thou a thing of mortal birth 1421 Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slum- ber? ? 433 As after noon, one summer's day 752 As at the approach of winter all 644 As bird in cage debarr'd the use of wings. . . 496 As, by some tyrant's stern command 936 As by the shore at break of day 1286 As chaos which by heavenlydoom 1416 As doctors give physic by way of preven- tion 760 As due by many titles, I resign 235 As fireflaucht hastily glancing 62 As fresh Aurore to mighty Tithon spou.se 57 As homeward by the evening star 1263 As I walked forth one summer's morn 730 As I was pansing in a morning aire 394 As in an evening, when the gentle air 286 As it fell upon a day 121 As near Porto-Brillo lying 999 As on a summer's day 829 As one who, long by wasting sickness worn 1254 As Rochefoucault his maxims drew 774 As slow I climb the cliff's ascending side... 1245 .NO. OP POKM. As slow our ship her foamy track 1293 As through the laud at eve we went 17ii4 As virtuous men pass mildly away 231 As we bene on the high hills situate 56 As when, to one, who long hath watch'd the morn 1007 Ask me no more where Jove bestows 260 Ask me why 1 send you here 270 At iJ((f«^/'.'>' bar as I (lid stand 101 At length escapej' Venus fi.\'(l aliove (J82 Bright .sun bad in his ruddy robes been di-ht 940 Brightest and best of the suns of the niorning 1380 Bring flowers, young flowers, for the festal board 1-141 Brother, thou art gone before us 1 t)H9 Busk ye, busk ye, my bonny bonny bride 881 Busy, curious, thirsty fly 1021 But all our praises why should lords en- gross? 779 But happy they ! the happiest of their kind! 866 But how shall we this union well express? 224 But if the breathless chase o'er hill and dale 926 But see the fading many- colon r'd woods ... 872 But sith 'tis so there isa tres{);iss done ... 24 But slili, forgot the grandeur of thy reign 932 But wood and wild, the mountain and the dale 1161 By Logan .streams that rin saedeep 160") By jiainful ste]>s at last we labour up 681 By sylvan waves that westward tlow 1702 By this had chanticleer, the village cock... 285 C. Ca' the yowcs to the knowcs 1582 Cajlia is cruel : Sylvia, thou 685 Call for the robin-redbreast and the wren 446 Can gold calm passion, or make reason shine? 8r)9 Can you paint a thought ? or number 458 Care-channor slee)>, son of the sable Night 140 C;xro-charming sleep, thou easer of all woes 218 Careful obscrvere may foretell the hour ... 772 Careful sorrowing 10 Cea.se to blame my melancholy 9S4 Cecilia, who.se exalted hymns 763 Celia and I the other day 7")0 Chockc thy forward thoughts, and know... 319 Cheeks as soft as J uly peaches 1 766 Cherry ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry 348 Chei-well ! how pleased along thy willow'd hedgo 1253 Child amiilst the flowers at play 1443 Child of the country ! free as air 1624 ChiM of the potent spell and nimble eye... 1041 Child of the sun ! pursue thy rapturous flight 1187' Children are what the mothers are 1274 Chloe, why wish you that your years 338 Chloris, yourself you so excel ..•. 598 Clarinda came at last 336 Close in the covert of an hazel copse 867 Cly.sdalo, as thy romantic vales I leave 1250 Cold is the senseless heart that never strove 1010 Come, all j-e feathery people of mid air ... 1677 Come all ye jolly shcpbents 1612 Come, all yo youths whoso hearts e'er bled 690 Come back, come back together 1463 Come, come away 745 Come, eveniuge gale I the crimsonne rose 1541 Come, Evening, once again, se;u>on of peace 10S5 NO. OF POEM. Come, gentle sleep ! attend thy votarj's prayer 1154 Come, gentle zephyr, trick'd with those perfumes ilj Come, gie's a sang, Montgomery cried 10.V> Come here, come here, and dwell li)7y Come, Holy iSpirit, come JoJ;", Come, list and hark, the bell doth toll 4" '.• Come, listen to me, you gallants so free ... 517 Come, little infant, love mo now 635 Come, live with me and bo my love 113 Come, my Way, my Truth, n.y Life ! 30S Come, come, with sacred lays 281 Come, thou traveller unknown 1004 Come, said Jesus' .sacred voice 1109 Come, sleep, O sleep, the certain knot of peace 107 Come to these scenes of peace 1212 Come, ye brown oaks, and stooii your heavy boughs 1543 Come ye into the summer woods 1658 Comes" next from lioss-shiro and from Sutherland 1C30 Comforts lastinir, loves cncre:ising 4.')S Condemn'd to Hope's delusive mine SS6 Connubial Fair ! whom no fond transport warms 1^*96 Contentmi-nt, j/arent of delight 815 Cosmolia's charms inspire my lays 669 Crowns, ihereforo keep your oaths of coronation 154 Cupid and my Campaspe played 404 Cursed with unnumber'd groundless fears 976 Custom, the world's great idol, we adore... 677 D. Darkness, which fairest nymphs disarms... 602 Daughter of Jove, relentless power 908. Daughter of Time, sincere Posterity 41)3 Daughters of Israel ! praise the Lord of Hosts! 1237 Day stars ! that ope your eyes with morn to twinkle 1419 Dazzled thus with height of place 162 Dear Agnes, gleam'd with joy and dash'd with tears 1470 Dear Chloe, while the busy crowd 1024 Dear Fanny, nine long years ago 1490 Dear is my little native vale 1186 Dear Joseph, five and twenty j-ears ago ... li'SS Dear to my heart as life's warm stream ... 1114 Dear Tom, this brown jug that now foams with mild ale 1014 Death, bo not proud, though some have called thee 23.^ Deathless principle, arise ! 1073 Death's shafts fly thick! Here falls the village swain 847 Deem as you list upon good cause 79 Deem not devoid of elegance the sage 967 Defeating oft the labours of the year 871 Decrenerato Douglas ! Oh the unworthy lord! 1203 Delightful is this loneliness ; it calms ll.>8 Despairing beside a clo;\r stream 828 Didst thou but know the inly touch of love 201 Dim as the boirow'd beams of moon and stars 6»>8 Do 1 not know a groat man's power and might 277 lii- THE FIRST LINES OF THE POEMS. NO. OF POEM. Do not beguile mj' heart 306 Do not unjustlj' blame G45 Do you ask me what the birds say ? The sparrow, the dove 1512 Down to the vale this water steers 1107 Drink to me, only with thine eyes 242 Drop, drop, slow tears, and bathe those beauteous feet 312 Dry those fair, those crystal eyes : 25 1 Dry up thy tears, love ! — I fain would be gay! 1526 Dwellers by lake and hiil ! 1053 E. Each opening season, and each opening scene 1-113 Earl Gawain woo'd the Lady Barbara 17-13 Earth has not anything to show more fair. 1201 Enjoy the present smiling hour 665 Equipp'd -and bent for heaven I left yon world 1421 Ere sin could blisrht or sorrow fade 1511 Ero yet the fell Plantagenets had spent ... 927 Eternal spirit of the chainless mind ! 1345 Ethereal minstrel ! pilgrim of the sky ! ... 1201 Even now his eyes with smiles of rapture glow 989 Even the lag flesh 849 Even thus amid thy pride and luxury 1666 Evening and morning — those two ancient names 1729 Evening, as slow thy placid shades descend 1249 Faintly bray'd the battle's roar 982 Fair and soft, and gay and young 684 Fair as unshaded light or as the day 374 Fair daffodils, we weep to see 342 Fair J]cho, rise ! .sick-thoughted nymjih, awake 380 Fair Fidelia, tempt no more 743 Fair flower that shunn'st the glare of day 1454 Fair is thy level landscape, England fair ... 1516 Fair is my love, and cruel as she's fair 140 Fair lady, when you see the grace 358 Fair pledges of a fruitful tree 341 Fair Rosomond within her bower of late ... 367 Fair stood the wind for Franco 143 Fair summer droops, droop men and beasts therefore 440 Fair! that you may truly know 593 Faire mistresse of the Earth, with garlands crown'd 320 Fall'n pile ! I ask not what has been thy fate 1256 False v/orld, thou ly'st : thou canst not lend 233 Famous was Beowulf 9 Fancies are but streams 456 Far have I clambered in my mind 573 Far in a wild, unknown to public view 809 Far in the country of Arden 146 Far in the windings of a vale 898 Farewell, a long farewell to all my great- ness ! 182 Farewell rewards and fairies 253 Farewell, sweet groves to you ! 27-5 FareweU the fields, of Irwan's vale 934 NO. OF POEM. Farewell, thou busy world, and may 648 Farewell to Lochaber, farewell to my Joan 824 ' Farewell, ye gilded follies ! pleasing trou- bles 159 Father in heaven ! who gave me breath ... 1537 Father, wake, the storm is loud 1734 Few arc thy days and full of woe 964 Few have lived 1727 Fhairshon swore a feud 1662 Fight on, brave soldiers, for the cause 370 Fill the bowl with ro.sy wine 642 Fill the bumper fair 1 1280 First shall the heavens want starry light... 431 First think, my soul, if I have foes 274 First-love will with the heart remain 1411 Five j^ears have pass'd ; five summers, with the length 1195 Flower of the waste ! the heath-fowl shuns 1119 Flowers to the fair ; to you these flowers I bring 1105 Fly from the press, and dwell with soth- f astness 28 Fly to the desert, fly with me 1284 Follow a shadow, it still flies you 241 Fond man, that looks on earth for happiness 315 Foolish Prater, what dost thou .-. 542 For his religion, it was fit 638 For many a coal-black tribe and cany spear 1377 For me who feel, whene'er I touch the lyre 1089 For sure in all kinds of hypocrisy 157 For, this ye know well, tho' I wouldin lie... 27 Forget not yet the tried intent 78 Fortitude then stood .steadfast in his might 39 Fortune, men say, doth give too much to many 151 Friend of my soul ! this goblet sip 1282 Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears 187 Friendship, like love, is but a name 801 From an extempore prayer and a godly ditty 735 From Ashur's vales when proud Sennache- rib trod 1092 From depth of doole wherein my soule doth dwell 106 From frozen climes, and endless tracts of snow 7SS From fruitful beds and flowery borders ... 558 From Oberon in fairy land 510 From Pembroke's princely dome, where mimic art 968 From that rich valley, where the angels laidhim 491 From Tuskane came my ladies worthy race 69 Full of tho art of brewing beer 1151 G. Gamarra is a dainty steed 1680 Gane were but the winter cauld 1620 Gather ye rosc-bnds, while ye may 343 Genius of the forest shades 1128 Gentle nymphs, be not refusing 289 Gentlefolks, in my time, I've made many a rhyme 1137 Gentlest girl 1731 Get up, get up for shame, the blooming morn 351 Give me more love, or more disdain 262 Gloomy winter's now awa' 1602 THE FIRST LINES OP THE POEMS. l..i MO. OF POKM. Go, blushing flow'r ! ' 180S Co, fetch to mc a ijiut o' wino 1577 Co, lovely rose ! ^-.'l (!o, my Willy, get thee yono 270 (io, seek in tho wild glen l*j-'i Go, soul, the body's guest H'^* Go to your bosom ^Oa Go where glory waits thee VIS'S Go, youth beloved, in distant glades 1118 God hath a thoupatid hand(!S to chastise ... 40 God sondcth and giveth both mouth and meat » 86 God, who the universe doth hold 499 (Joldon slumbers kiss your eyes 4o4 Good husbandmen must moil and toil bl Good huswife provides, ore a sickness do come S-^ Good-morrow to thy sable beak 1471 Good muse, rock me asleep 118 Good name in man and woman, dear, my Lord 208 Good-night, and j oy be \vi' ye a' 1 (Jl 1 (Jr-r-r — tbt'ro go, my heart's abhorrence! 1787 (JreatGod, whose sceptre rules the earth... 670 Great Straflord, worthy of that name, though all 577 Green little vaulter in the sunny grass 1399 Grieve not, foud man, nor let one tear 4(38 H. Had Cain been Scot, God would have changed his doom 377 Haidee and Juan carpeted their feet 1350 Hail, beauteous Dian, queen of shades 472 Hail, beauteous stranger of the grove !...'... 962 Hail, Bishop Valentine ! whoso day this is 227 Hail, gentle stream ! for ever dear 1G07 Hail, holy Light, ofifspriug of Heaven, firstborn '^2.3 Hail, mildly pleasing solitude 877 Hail, old patrician trees, so great and good 5.^3 Hail, progeny divine ! 1063 Hail thou, my native soil ! thou blessed plot .".....» 201 Hail to the Lord's anointed 1392 Hail to thee, blithe spirit ! 13(!1 llanie, hanie, hauie,hame, faiu wad I be... I45 Happy the man whose wish and wire 782 Happy those early days, when I !>M Hark! .ah, the Nightingale I 1760 Hark! hark! the clash .and clang 123<) Hark! now everything is still 448 Hark ! tho cock crows, and yon bright star 040 Hark ! 'tis the twanging horn o'er yonder bridjze 1084 Harp of Zion, pure and holy 1474 Hast thou a charm to stay the morning star 1."j04 Haunts of my youth ! 1101 .Having this day my horse, n)y hand, my lance • 107 Haymakers, rakers, ron pers, and mowere... 457 He comes ; thy God, O Isruel, coinos 1062 He ended ; and tho Aichangol soon drew niszh 03-2 He is jiono ou the mountain 1323 NO. or POKM. He, o'er his sceptre bowing, rose 030 He raised the golden cup from tho board 1468 Ho that loves a rosy cheek 264 He that of such a height halt built hia mind 138 Ho was bot twintio yeiris of ago 60 He's not the happy man to whom ia given 878 Hear me, God ! 216 Hear me, ye nymphs, and every swain 10*28 Hear, sweet spirit, hear the spell 1508 Hear ye, la90 Hey, now the day 's dawning o90 High in the airy element there hung 310 High mounted on an ebon throne on which 581 High peace to the soul of the dead 1540 High thoughts ! 1642 Higher, higher, will we climb 1386 His golden locks time hath to silver turned 411 His tawny beard was th' equal grace 039 Ho ! pretty page, with the dimpled chin... 1762 Ho, sailor of the sea ! 1671 Home they brought her warrior dead 1705 Hope! of all illsthat men endure...'. 544 Hope ! whose we.ak being ruin'd is 543 Hot son, cool fire, tempered with sweet air 416 Household treasures, household treasures 1815 How are Thy servants ble*t, O Lord ! 768 How beautiful is night ! 1213 How blest has my time been ! what joys Lave I known 1034 How l>lest the man who, in these peaceful plains 960 How calmly, gliding through tho dark blue sky : 1214 How cheerfully th' unpartiall sunne 327 How custom steels the human breast 1020 How dazzling white the snowy scene ! deep, deep llfiO How delicious is the winning 1302 How fair is the rose ! what a beautiful flower .; 850 How tine has tho day been, how bright was the sun ^51 How fond are men of rule and place <5'4 How fresh, Lord, how sweet and clean... 304 How gaily is at first begun 818 How happy is ho born and tancht 160 How long must women wish in v.ain 700 How lovely is this wilder'd scene 1016 How many summers, love 1687 How many tliousanil of my poorest subjects 171 How miserable a thing is a great man C95 liv THE FIRST LINES OF THE POEMS. NO. OF POBM. How mournfully this burial-ground U'2o How near am I now to a bappiuess 452 How pleasant came tby rushing, silver Tweed! 115G How shall I meet thee, summer, wont to till 1257 How shocking must thy summons be, O Death ! S45 How short is life's uncertain space ! 1017 How sleep the brave, who sink to rest 8SS How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth 612 How soothing is that sound of f ar-ofi wheels 173.'> How sweet the answer echo makes 1291 How sweet the harmonies of Afternoon ! ... 180(5 How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank l*]? How sweet thy modest light to view 1134 How sweetly doth My Master sound !— Jly Master 305 How vainly men themselves amaze 633 How wicher'd, perish'd seems the form ... 1122 How wonderful is Death 1359 I am all alone ! and the visions that play... 1527 I am an Englishman, and naked I stand here 80 I am as I am, and so will I be 74 I am content, I do not care .• 1056 I arise from dreams of Thee 1362 I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers 1360 I cannot change as others do 655 I chanced, my dear, to come upon a day... 489 I come from haunts of coot and hern 1703 I come, I come ! ye have calTd me long ... 1438 I disdain all pomp when thou art by 693 I do not love thee for that fair 261 I envy not in any moods 1706 I fear thy kisses, gen tie maid 1363 I had a vision : evening .sat in gold 1543 I hate that drum's discordant sound 1019 I hate the man who builds his name 800 I hate these potent madmen, who keep all 699 1 have a son, a little sou, a boy just five years old 1801 I have an eye for her that's fair 706 1 have been in love, and in debt, and in drink 382 I have been studying how to compare 171 I have had playmates, I have had com- panions 1230 " I have no hopes," the duke he says, and dies 762 I have no muses that will serve the turn ... 280 I hear iheespeak of the better land 1445 I heard a sick man's dying sigh 1709 I heard a thousand blended notes 1211 I hold as faith 712 I know not that the men of old 1718 I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus ... 186 I lately vow'd, but 'twas in haste 838 I lent my gossop my meir to fetch hame coals 59 I'll not such favour to rebellion show 698 I look'd upon his brow— no sign 1461 I love (and have some cause to love) the earth 295 I love, and he loves me again 243 I love it, I love it ; and who shall dare 1720 NO. OF POKM. I love my king and country well 733 I loved him asyoung Genius loves 1460 I loved him not ; and yet, now he is gone... 1272 I met a traveller from an antique land 1370 I mot four chaps yon birks amaug 1610 1 must not grieve, my love, whose eyes would i-oad 140 I must not say that thou wert trvie 1761 I never hear the sound of thy glad bells ... 1258 I never loved ambitiously to climb 443 1 never sawe my Ladye laye apart 71 I own I Uke not Johnson's turgid style 1148 I pity, from my soul, unhappy men 651 I pray thee, cease thy counsel 168 I pray thee, love, love me no more 145 I prithee leave this peevish fashion 383 I prithee send me back my heart 332 I remember, I remember 1491 I remember well one summer's night 1728 I. rise, dear Mary, from the .soundest rest... 1126 I'sail'd from the Downs in the " Nancy"... 1136 I saw him last on this terrace i)roud 1420 1 saw where in the shroud did lurk 1231 1 sing the name which none can say 298 I sought Thee round about, Thou my God! .._ 476 I sowed the seeds of love, it was all in the spring 671 I swear, Aurora, by thy starry eyes 396 1 tell thee, Dick, where I have been 330 I then did use the person of your father ... 176 I thirst, thou wounded Lamb of God 101)8 1 turn these leaves with thronging thoughts, andsay 1260 I've a letter from thy sire 1742 I've a proposal here from Mr. Murray 1294 I've heard the lilting at our yowe-milking 1048 I've often wished that I had clear 777 I've seen, indeed, the hopeful bud 299 I've seen the smiling 1049 I've wander'd East, I've wander'd West ... 1631 1 wander'd by the brook-side 1717 I wander'd lonely as a cloud 1207 1 v,-as a scholar : seven useful springs 466 I wont from England into France 252 I wha stand hei-e, in this bare scowry coat 1594 I will go l)8Lck to the great sweet mother ... 1833 1 will not have the mad Clytie 1487 1 wish I had a cottage snug and neat 1628 I wish I was where Anna lies 1141 I wish I were where Helen lies 1606 I wot not how the world's degenerate 2.50 If all the world and love were young 114 If aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song ... 889 If dumb too long, the drooping muse hath stay'd 785 If heaven the grateful liberty would give... 678 if I could but attain my wish 709 If r had thought thou couklst have died... 1563 If 1 live to grow old, for I find I go down 686 if in that breast, so good, so pure 983 If she doth then the .subtle sense e.Kcel ... 223 If the quick spirits in your eye 263 If thou shouldst ever come by choice i-r chance 11S3 If thou wert i)y my side, my love 1378 If thou wouldst view fair Melrose aright ... 1314 If we no old historian's name 384 If we, O Dor.set 1 quit the city throng 790 If you become a nun, dear ._ 1401 Illu-strions England, ancient seat of kings 412 linage of her whom I love more than she 234 Imperial bird, who wont to .soar 996 THE FIRST LINES OF THE POEMS. MO. OF POtM. In a croniquo thus I redo -" In^ ilet-p vision's intclloctutil scene 5i"J In a (hc-aoi of the niyht 1 was' wafted away ^'j'? In a howm whose bouisy bumio lii'Jii In ;i maiden time prolessed 4.j(J In a melancholy simiy i^-^T In ancient times, as story tells 77(; In Uedfordshiro there dwelt a knight 744 In IJiitain's isle and Artlini's liays 8ll,S In days of old. there li\el, of njighty fame 659 In eddyingr course when leaves began to tly.. .... 1520 In going to my naked bod, as one that would have slept i'l In haste he sent to gather fresh recruits ... 1828 In heaven, one holiday, you read 751 In martial sports I hud my cinuing tried... 107 In May as that Aurora did iipspring 51 In my jioor mind it is most sweet to muse 12o4 In pride of wit, with high desire of fame... 147 In Uome no temple was so low t)44 In search of things that secret are my mated muse began ... 9-3 In such a night, when every louder wind... 817 In sullen humour one day Jove 75:! In summer time, when leaves grow green 53t> In summer when the shawes be sheno 516 In sunlight and in shade 1514 In the days o' langsyno when we carles were young Ifi46 In the hollow tree, in the old gray tower... lt)85 In the merry montli of June 728 In the Parliament House, a great rout has been there 715 In the summer time, when leaves grow green 520 In those low paths which poverty sur- rounds 1412 In vain you tell your parting lover 748 In Ver, that full of virtue is and good 41 In walks of humour, in that cast of style !'54 I:; what torn ship soever I embark 22!) In Xanadu did Kubla Khan 15(i9 In yonder brake there is a nest 1267 In yonder grave a Druid lies S92 r the thrang of stories tellin* 1593 luterr'd beneath this marble stone 761 Interval of grateful shade 1U59 Invidious grave ! how dost thou rend in sunder 843 Iphigenia, when she heard her doom 1275 Is chance a guilt, that my disastrous hu.art 84<' Is it come? they said, on the banks of the Nile _ 1782 "Is there n-) hope ?" the sick man said ... 797 Is there, or do the schoolmen ilream 1044 Is this a dagger which I see before me ... 185 Is this a time to plant and build 1798 It fell about the 5lartiiim.is 530 It is a beauteous evening, calm and free ... 1209 It is a place where poets ciovvn'd 1558 It is an ancient mariner 1503 It is not that I love you lots 601 It is the midnight hour : the beauteous sea , 1424 It is written on the rose 1444 It standeth so ; a deed is do' 94 It was a beauteous lady richly dress'd 1714 It was a dreary place. The shallow brook 1674 It was a friar of orders giiiy 938 It was a summer evening 1219 It was an eve of autumn's hulitst mood ... 1482 jro. or poEjf It was near a thicky shade 423 It wa« not by vile loitering in ease 875 It Was not in the winter 1485 It was the calm and silent idght ! 1792 It. was the time when 'gainst the breaking day 149 It was the time when the still moon 548 It was the winter wild 606 It WHS when from Spain across the Main the Cid had come to Home 1524 JaflTar the Barmecide, the good vizier 104.3 Jesu, Lover of my soul l Like to the clear in highest sphere 42S Like to the falling of a star 255 Lips, lii's, open ! 1837 Lithe and listen, gentlemen 537 Lithe and ly.stcu, gentylmen 521 Little streams are light and shadow 1656 KO. OFPOBil Lo ' at the coucli where infant hcauty sleeps 1299 Lo : in the west, ftist fades the lingering light 1^71 Lo ! now on earth is he ^ Lo what is it to luve 387 Lo ! where the rosy-bosom'd Hours 91 1 Lochiel, Lochiel, beware of the day 1303 Lone upon a mountain, the pine-trees wail- ing round hira •• 1^°^ Long he wooed a maid all innocence and truth 1:^18 Long in thy shackles, liberty ^•^■i Long of yore, on the mountain, the voice 1830 Look back ! a thought which borders on despair ;••.••■■ " • Look, how the flower which lingnngly doth fade 36* Look, how the industrious bee in fragrant May ^^'^ Look on these waters with how solt a kiss l5io Look once more ere we leave this specular mount 618 Look out, bright eyes, and bless the an- ! . . . 21b Look up to Pentland's towering top 82S Look what immortal floods the sunset pours 1683 Look where my dear Hamilla smiles 1030 Loose every sail to the breeze 1040 Lord ! as the hart embost with heat 478 Lord, how long, how long wilt thou 500 Lord, should the sun, the clouds, the wind 284 Lord, Thou hast given me a cell 349 Lord, to Thee while I am living 498 Lord Beichan was a noble lord 533 Lord Konald courted Lady Clare 1707 Love divine, all love excelling 1072 Love in fantastic triumph sat 70.:) Love in my bosom, like a bee 429 Love is by fancy led about 837 Love is like a lamb and love is like a lion. . . '451 Love is the happy privilege of the mind ... 1672 Love is too great a happiness 644 Love mistress is of many minds 108 Love, nature's plot, this great creation's soul 38£> Love not ! love not ! ye hapless sons of clay! 171.'5 Love 'still has something of the sea 668 Love thy motJier, little one ! 1489 Love's heralds should be thoughts 201 Lovely Devonia ! land of flowers and songs ! 1513 Lovely, lasting peace of mind 810 Ivow in a glen 1163 Low walk.s'the sun, and broadens by degrees 869 Lullaby— lullaby, baby dear! 1772 Ly th and lysten, gcntyll men 523 M. Magnificence of ruin ! what has time 1539 Magnificent creature ! so stately and bright! 1427 INIaid of Athens, ere we part 1 338 ]Man ! foolish man ! 747 Man 's a poor deluded bubble 1001 March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale! ... 1321 Margarita first possest 541 Mark the soft-falling snow 1058 ^lartial fne things that do attain <>'> 3IaytheBabyloni.shcnr.se 1229 Meantime, the moist malignity to shun ... 92.'i Meanwhile, the adversary ot God and man 622 NO. OF POEM. Melancholy, hence, and get 379 ^Melpomene, the muse of tragic songs 409 jMeny it was in the green forest «jl4 Merrv Margaret ••••• 63 Methinks I can remember when a shade ... lUo Methinks I could have borne to live my days 1/30 Methinks it is good to be here loW Methought I heard a butterfly 1209 Methouuht I saw my late espoused saint... 614 'Mid the cloud-enshrouded haze 1835 Mild oflspring of a dark and sullen sire ! ... 116o Milton ! thou shouldst bo living at this hour 1189 Mine be a cot beside the hill 1485 Mistress Matrossa hopes to be a lady 508 Mona on ynowdon calls ^13 Monkey, little merry fellow 16o3 I\Iorn on the waters ! and purple and bright 152.J Morpheus, the humble god, tbat dwells ... 578 ilost earnest was his voice ! most mild his look ^}-''<, Mother of Wisdom ! thou whose sway 914 " Mother, the storm, how it shrieks without!" 1770 Mother's wag, pretty boy 4^2 ]\Iourn, hapless Caledonia, mourn 92d Mournfully! mournfully 1635 :Muses, that sing Love's sensual empirie ... 485 My boat is on the shore 1337 :My brier that smelledst sweet 1273 My brother Jack was nine in May 1415 My Daphne's hair is twisted gold 407 :\Iy days among the dead are passed 1220 My days have been so wondrous free 811 My dear mistress has a heart 657 My early love, and must we part ? 1529 Jiv ear-rings ! my ear-rings ! they've dropi 'into the well 1523 My father was an auld man and an hoar ... 58 My God, I heard this day 309 My God, now I from .sleep awake 821 My God, Thv service well demands 1061 My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains 1 82-^ My heart leaps up when I behold 1192 My heart's in the Highland.s, my heart is not hero 1580 My heid is like to rend, Willie Io3o My Infelice's face, her brow, her eye 438 My liege, I did deny no prisoners 172 My lov-ed, my honour'd, much-respected friend! 15^2 My lute, awake ! perform the last /2 Mv lute, be as thou wert when thou didst gro w ""*' ]My own dear country ! thy remembrance comes 1'"" My sheep I neglected, I broke my sheep- hook 1051 My soug hath closed, the holy dream 14/7 My soul, there is a country -''o^ My time, ye Muses, was happily spent... lO.'j/ My untried Muse shall no high tone assume 1125 N. Xapoleon's banners at Boulogne 1 31 1 Needy knife-grinder ! whither are you froiticr ? 1 m Never any more ^i'-^ THE FIRST LINES OF THE POEMS. Irii BO. OV PORM. Next to these ladies, but in nougat allied... 1174 Night is tlio time fur rest 138-1 Ni'ht ! thou foul mother of annoyance 8°ad 131 No cloud, no relict of the sunken day ...... l;)0(j No jewcU'd beauty is my lovo 1746 No, my fair cousin 179 No plate had John and Joan to hoard 1004 No seas again shall sever 1780 No season this for counsel or delay ! 'J47 No sooner had the Almighty ceased, but all '■■24 No stir in the air, no stir in the sea 1224 Noble the mountain stream 14.^3 Nobles and heralds, by your leave 7.o9 Noe monument of me remaiue 325 Nor rural sights alone, but rural sounds... 1079 North-east, not far from this great pool, there lies •■•• 282 North winds send hail, south winds bring rain 87 Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note 1502 Not a leaf of the tree which stood near me was stirr'd 14i/8 Not caring to observe the wind COO Not in the swaying of the summer trees ... 17.')8 Not ours the vows of such as pli|,'ht 145(3 Not to be wrought by malice, gain, or pride 482 Not unremember'd is the hour when friends 1*34 Nothing did make me, when I loved them best 4.37 Nothing is to man so dear ^15 Nothing so true as what you once let fall. . . 778 Nought is there under heaven's wide hol- lo .vnoss ■■■ 12o Now came still evening on, and twilight gray ^29 Now dawns the morn, and on :Mount Olivet 980 Now faro thee well, England : no further I'll roam ^i"^ Now, from his eastern couch, the sun Itoi Now, gentle sleep hath closed up those eyes zt"^ Now, glory to our England J- ' o- Now, glory to tho Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories are .- l^^a Now, golden Autimm from her open lap... fcOb Now great llvperion left his golden throne 287 Now, hardly" here and there a hackney cciii.c\x ....• ,,.,,»......•••■• ' I ■^ Now, 'mid the general glow of opening blooms 110^ Now morn her rosy steps in th' eastern clime .••••• ^"r^ Now morn, with rosy-coloured finger, raised V/ .i Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile ... 191 Now, mv fairest friend I'>9 Now our work 's done, thus we feast T-b Now, sober industry, illustrious power ! ... 959 Now that tho winter 's gone, the earth hath lo.st ,-■•■•■• 2G7 Now the bright morning star, days har- binger 6|f; Now the colden mom aloft J-i- Now the" third and fatal conllict for tho Persian throne was done 1^2:f Now to thv silent presence. Night! 1(5/0 Now westward Sol had spent the richest so. beams 300 Now what is love I will thee tell 470 Nowe is the knvght went on his way ^21. OF roEV. 0! Arrknmore, loved Arranmore 12^9 O beauteous (Jod ! uncircumscribcd treasure Wm O blithe new comer ! Ihaveheaid 1201- Brignall banks are wild and fair IJ"-^ come away ^'J, O cruel love, on thee I lay 4«^» day most calm, most bright oV-' O did you ever heai- of the brave Earl ^ Brand • •■• ^'zh faithful love, by poverty embraced ! *yi O for a lodge in some vast wilderness l/g»; O gentle, gentle summer rain 1464 gentle love, ungentle for thy deed ] irive me, kind Bacchus, thou God of the vine '-■'•' happy, if ye knew your happy state fc07 O hai ip'y persecution, 1 embrace thee 4.53 O happy Thames, that did.st my Stella bear 107 hard condition, and twin-born with great- ^0gg i yti O Holy, blessed, glorious Trinity 237 ignorant poor man ! what dost thou bear 2-26 O lady, leave thy silken thread 1499 O, let us howl some heavy note 447 O'listen, listen, ladies gay ! 1331 Lord ! another day is tlown llfiS lx)rd, my (!od, in mercy turn 1172 O lovers' eyes are sharp to see 1329 Mary, go and call the cattle home 1799 O Memorj' ! celestial maid ! ■• 895 0, my heart, my heart is sick awishing and awaiting ■ "l^^."- 0, ray hive's like a red, red rose l.')S4 Nanny, wilt thou gang wi' me 5137 O ni<^htingale, best poet of the grove 870 nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray.. fiU O parent of each lovely muse 1 974 perfect light, which shed away 391 O saw ye bonnie Leslie 1585 saw ye not fair Ines ? 1492 O sav not that mv heart is cold l:M Osay! what is that thinir call'd light 1033 O! sing unto my roundelay 944 O Solitude, romantic maid ! 1<^15 O sun ! thou o'er Athenian towers 99S talk not to me of a name great in story . 13.52 the broom, the vellow broom i057 the month of May, the merry month of May • f^ thou great Power ! in whom we move ... 1<.1 thou, that sitt'st upon a throne 994 O thou, that, with surpassing glory crown d 620 O thou, the friend of man assign'd 887 thou, the nvmph with placid eye ! 11oi Of a' the airtslho wind can blaw 1583 Of all deeds yet this strikes the deepest wound 454 Of all the cities in Romanian lands 604 Of all the girls that are so smart l<'o5 Of all the kings that ever here did reigu ... I(i7 Of all the thoughts of God that are 15fJl Of all the torments, all the cares :.... CS3 Of comfort no man speak 170 Of Israel's sweetest singer now I sing 415 Of Jupiter thus I find y-writ. 31 Of Leinster, famed for maidens fair 784 Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit tJiy Of Nelson and the North 1306 Of old, when Scarron his comjianions invited 917 Of these the false Acliitophel was first 6()"2 Of time and nature eldest born 977 Oft am I by the women told.. 542 Oft has it been my lotto mark Inl6 Oft in the stilly night I'iO^ Oft I've implored the gjds in vain 987 Oft that wild untutor'd race would draw... 12<,>5 Oh ! a dainty plant is the ivy gi-een 1818 Oh ! ask not a home in the mansions of pride 1725 O'n I breathe not his name ! let it sleep in the shade 1287 Oh! call my brother back to me ! 1448 Oh, come you from the Indies, and, soldier, can you tell 1776 Oh I do not wrong my honest simple truth 212 Oh, don't go in to-night, John ! 1778 Oh ! hadst thou never shared my fate 151 lO Oh how this spring of love resembleth 201 Oh ! I shall not forget, until memory depart 1457 Oh, lay thy hand in mine, dear ! 1756 Oh Lord, in sickness and in health 1261 Oh, Mary, at thy window bo 1578 Oh I my black soul, now thou art sum- moned 23.5 Oh ! my golden days of childhood 1810 Oh! my Jove's a winsome lady 1749 Oh! my love's like the steadfast sun 1622 Oh, never talk again to mo 1339 Oh, reader I hast thou ever stood to see ... 1215 Oh, sunny curls ! oh eyes of blue ! 1771 Oil that the chemist's magic art 1188 Oh that those lips had language I Life has pass'd 1081 Oh the bells ' the morning bells ! 1805 Oh the pleasant days of old, which so often people praise ! 1783 Oh! the sad day 674 Oh those little, those little blue shoes ! 1767 Oh, thou conqueror 214 Oh twilight ! Spirit that doth render birth 1710 Oh ! weep not that our beauty wears 1483 Oh I well may the poets make a fuss 14S4 Oh ! what is this which shines so bright.... 1270 Oh! when 'tis summer weather 1241 Oh! who hath tasted of Thy clemency 477 Oh! why left I my hame ■/ 1647 Oh, voung Lochinvar is come out of the we'st 1317 Old Sir Kobert Bolton had three sons 7-2 NO. OF POEM. On a hill there grows a flower 117 On Carron's side the jirimrose pale 935 On either side is level fen, a prospect wild and wide 1176 On Jura's heath now sweetly swell 1132 On Loven's banks, while free to rove 922 Ou Lit.den, when the sun was low 1304 On i>arcut knees, a naked new-born child.. 1013 On yunday, here, an alter'd scene 1055 I On sure foundations let your fabric rise ... 650 : On that deep, retiring shore 1719 ' On this lone isle, whose rugged rucks af- \ fright 1043 I On Trinity Monday in the morn 95 ■ On Wednesday the false Southron furth ; brocht 47 On yonder hill a castle stands 535 I Once in the flight of ages past 1387 ' Once more unto the breach, dear friends, I once more 178 I Once on a time, a monarch, tired with whooping: 1150 ' One (lay, it matters not to know 1227 ' One kinti wish befure we part 1000 I One kiss more, sweet ! 1748 I One more Unfortunate 1495 I One word is too often profaned 1367 i Open the door, some pity to show ! 1333 I Open your ears : for which of you will stop 173 I Our bark is on the waters deep, our bright 1 blades in our hand 1641 j Our bugles sang truce ; for the night-cloud I had lower'd 1308 I Our life is twofold ; sleep hath its own I world 1341 Our native land — our native vale 1480 • Our sighs were nunierou.s, and jirofuseour i tears 1433 I Our task is done !— on (kmga's breast 1379 Out of her swoone when she did abbraide.. 36 Out of the west coast, a wench, as nie- thought 17 Out iipon it, I have loved 331 Over hill, over dale 210 Over the mountains 534 Oxford and Cambridge shall agree 732. P. Pack clouds away, and welcome day 473 Patience ! why, 'tis the soul of peace 436 Patriots, alas" ! the few that have been found 1077 Peace, heaven-descended maid ! whose powerful voice 99t^ Peace! what can tears avail ? 1690 Phyllis! why .should we delay 594 Pibroch of Donuil Dhu 1322 Pipe, merry Annot ■ 398 Pity the sorrows of a poor old man ! 1027 Placed, by false Manto, in a closet, which 584 Poor robin sits and sings alone 1268 Pope, to whose reed beneath the beechen shade 904 Praise to God, immortal praise 1110 Pray thou thy days be long before thy dearh ...... 1834 Prayer is the soul's sincere desire 13SS Prepare the hallow'd strain, my muse 764 Pretty firstling of the year ! 1678 Prince of the fallen ! around thee sweep... 1546 VO. OF rOBIil. Proud Maisie is in the wood 1<1<1" Pursuing beauty, men descry ^^7 Put the broidery-lrumo iiway 1^9 Red rows the Nith 'tween bank and brae... 1618 Religion, thou life of life 120 Remember us poor Mayers all ! 727 Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow 918 Render to Ciesar things which C;csar's are 1817 Restless forms of living light 1572 Restrain your child ; you'll soon believe ... 7->i> Retired thoughts enjoy their own delights 109 Rise, heart! thy Lord is risen. Sing His praise «jO' Rise, lady ! Mistress, rise ! -188 Rise ! sleep no more ! 'Tis a noble morn 1684 Rise, then, Aristo's son, assist my muse ... 575 Robene sat on gud greno hill 48 Rock of Ages, cleft for mo 1074 Roses, in breathing forth their scent 566 Rosy child, with forehead fair 1712 ",Ruin seize thee, ruthless king 909 Sad is our youth, for it is ever going 1791 St. Agnes' Eve— Ah, bitter chill it was ! ... 1820 Satan harang^ued ■ • ■ 3 Saw ye my wee thing, saw ye my ain thing 1597 Say, dearest friend, how roll thy hours away ? ?05 Say, Irom what golden quivers of the sky 547 Say, lovely dream ! where couldst thou find 590 Say, mighty love, and teach my song 852 Say not the struggle nought availeth 1836 Say, why was man so eminently raised 901 Scenes of woe and scenes of pleasure 1604 Scots, wba hae wi' AVallace bled 1579 See, brother, how the wicked throng and crowd 359 See, how fair Corinna lies 702 See, see! 571 See ! stretch'd on nature's couch of grass 1005 See the chariot at hand here of love 245 See the star that leads the day 812 Seest thou how gaily my young master goes 249 Seest thou not, in clearest days 273 Set me whereas the sunne doth parche the grene '0 Shalll tell you whom 1 luvo 290 She comes adown the i>ale blue depths of heaven 1811 She dwelt among the untrodden ways 1193 She is a winsome wee thing 15SS xo. or roBic She loves, and she conresses too 552 She rose, and all enchanteil gazed 1121 She smiles and smilo.s, ami will not sigh ... 1759 She stood breast-high amid tlie com — 1493 She walks in beauty, like the night 1353 She was a phantom of delight 1194 She's gaue to dwell in heaven, uiy lassie ... 16"J1 Should auld acquaintance be forgot 1581 Silent nymph, with curious eye 680 Silent with passion, which his eyes in- Hanied 582 Silver Phccbe spreads 997 Since 1 did leave the presence of my love... 134 Since 1 in storms most used to be 563 Sing aloud ! His praise rehearse 572 Sing forth, sweeto cherubin (for we have choice ■ 317 . . . Sing, heavenly muse ! 666 Sing the old song, amid the sounds dis- persing 1 ; 90 Sing to Apollo, god of day -108 Sir, I hate the coun trie's durt and manners, yet.... ^{-j Sit down, sad soul, and count 109j Sitting by a river'sside 42u Slave of the dark and dirty mine ! 1131 Sleep breathes at last from out thee 1398 Sleep, downy .sleep, come close my eyes ... 675 Sleep on, and dream of heaven awhile 1184 Sleep on, baby, on the floor li'>^9 Sleep 1 The ghostly winds are blowing !... 1689 Slowlv, with measured tread 1532 So cruel prison how could betide, alas b4 So now is come our joyful'st feast 271 So on a time he desired to play 46 So on he fares, and to the border comes ... 625 So on he passed, till he comen hath 1<|32 So she rose, and went forth thro' the city... 1829 So stood Eliza on the wood-crown'd height 1094 Softly woo awav her breath 1688 Some ask'd me where the rubies grew ...... 347 Some men delight huge buildings to behold 489 Some nvmphs prefer astronomy to love ... b61 Some of their chiefs were princes of the land ?,g Some witis of the borowstoun ■ ^^o Sometimes briskly, sometimes Haggin ... iwo Soul, not yet from heaven beguiled 17/.J Sound the fife, and cry the slogan J^Oi Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt s dark sea! -^r^ Sow in the morn thy seed •■•■•• 1^94 Speak, go.ldess ! since 'tis thou that best ^^ canst tell /^" Special J urymen of England ! who admue _ ^ your country's laws l/6o Sp'ccch is morning to the mind 692 Spirit of light and life ! when battle rears 1482 Si-it in my face, you Jews, and pierce my side •. )r^ Spite of his spite, which that m vain Mi Sporting through the forest wide lOoJ Siting, the sweet spring, is the years pleas.ant king j^^ Statfa, 1 scaled thy summit hoar 1-*^ Stand and adore : how glorious He 6o4 Sur that bringest home the bee 1301 Suiv, lady. Slay, for mercy's sake lUo Slav. sweet ! and do not rise -o^ Still Herald of tho Morn ! whose ray ...... 3«& Still young and fine, but what is still in view ■-,; 562 Stop, mortal ! Here thy brother lies IjoO NO. OF POKM. Sublimer strains, rustic muse ! prepare S04 yiich moviug sounds from such a careless touch ! 597 Such was Philoclea, and such Doras' Uame ! 696 Suck, baby, suck ! mother's love grows by giving 1233 Summer is i-cunien in 12 Sunk was the sun, and up the eastern heaven 1G65 Sure such a wretcli as I was never born . . . 995 fcjm-e the last end 8iS Sure there arc poets which did never dream 576 Sure thou didst flourish once, and many springs 501 Sure 'tis a serious thing to die ! My soul 846 Sweet are the charms ot her 1 love 836 Sweet are the thoughts that savour of con- tent ; 421 Sweet Auburn ! loveliest village of the plain 919 Sweet bird, that sing'st away the early hours 361 Sweet coimtry life, to such unknown 345 Sweet daughter of a rough aud stormy sire 1104 Sweet day ! so cool, so calm, so bright 303 Sweet Echo ! sleeps thy vocal shell 1098 Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen 608 Sweet flowers ! that from your humble beds 1143 Sweet Highland girl ! a very shower 1196 Sweet is the rose, but grows upon a brero 134 Sweet is the scene when virtue dies ! 1108 Sweet maid, if thou wouldst charm my sight : :... 1012 Sweet poet of the woods, a long adieu ! ... 1099 Sweet, solitary life ! lovely dumb joy 395 Sweet spirit of my love ! ..: 1750 Sweet Spring, thou com'st with all thy goodly train 363 Sweetest Love, 1 do not go 232 Swiftly walk over the western wave 1365 Take, holy earth ! all that my soul holds dear 915 Take, oh ! take those lips away 219 Tasteful illumination of the night 1405 Tax not the royal saint with vain expense 1191 Tell me not of a face that's fair 381 Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind 353 Tell me, great all- knowing God ! 326 Tell me what is a poet's thought i 1693 Thalestris triumphs in a manly mien 863 Thanks, my lord, for your venison, for finer orfaiter 920 That day of wrath, that dreadful day 653 That day of wrath, that dreadful day 1330 That house's form within was rude and strong 129 That rock 's his haunt. There's not in all our hills 1542 That sound bespeaks salvation on her way 1078 That thou wilt be pleased to grant our requests 7.36 That which her slender waist confined 585 The air which thy smooth voice doth break 567 The All-powerful had 2 The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold 1343 The autumn is old ■ 1488 NO. OF POEM. The awful shadow of some unseen power... 1375 The barge she sat in like a buruish'd throne 188 The beum-repeliing mists arise 814 The bee is humming in the sun 1264 The bell strikes one. We take no note of time 857 The blessed Damozel lean'd out 1841 The bloom hath fled thy cheek, Mary 1637 The blushing rose aud purple tiower 464 The boy stood on the burning deck 1442 The breaking waves dashed liiL^h 1451 The bride cam' out o' the byre 1045 The iJrutons thus departed hence, seven kingdoms here begone 484 The budding floweret blushes at the light 941 The castle clock had toU'd midnight 1243 The course of true love never did run smooth 201 The curfew tolls the knell of parting day... 910 The cu.sbat crouds, the corbie cries 389 The daisies pce]i from every field 1153 The day goeth down red darkling 1755 The day was spent, the moon shone bright 729 The dew is on tie summer's greenest grass 1 6 45 The dews of summer night did fall 928 The dreamy rhymer's measured snore 1276 The emphatic speaker dearly loves to oppose 1080 The farmer's life displays in every part ... 1123 The feather'd songster chanticleer 943 The feeling is a nameless one 1528 The flower that smiles to-day 1376 The flowers the sultry summer kills 1406 The flowers were blooming fresh and lair... 1810 The fountains mingle with the river 1364 The frost performs its secret ministry 1507 The garlands fade that Sfjring so lately wove 1100 The gates were then thrown open 1290 The gentle season of the year 502 The Gipsy race my pity rarely move 931 The glories of our blood and state 462 The god of love and benedicite 21 The golden sun that brings the day 506 The half-seen memories of childish days ... 1789 The harlot muse, so passing gay 950 The harp that once through Tara's halls ... 1285 The heath this night must be my bed 1319 The heavens on high perpetually do move 102 The hierarchy is out of date 739 The hinds how blest, who ne'er beguiled... 965 The hour is come ! the hour is come ! With voice 1664 The house's form within was rude and strong 129 The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece !... 1344 The king to Gondibert is grown so kinde... 372; The King was on his throne 1356 The languid lad}^ next appears in state ... 862. The lark has sung his carol in the sky 1181 The lark now leaves his watery nest 373 The lark, that shuns on lofty boughs to build 595 The last and greatest herald of heaven's King 365 The last time I came o'er the moor 825 The lift was clear, the morn serene 1608 The lives of frail men are compared by the sagcs 649 The lopped trees in time may grow again... 110 The Lord my pasture shall prepare 770 THE FIRST LINES OF THE POEMS. bci BO. OF FORM. The lovely purple of tbo noon's bcstow- ing •. 1-^'i-* The lovely young Lavinia once had friends N I) Tho mellow year is hiistinf,' to its close l.';7i Till) midges dance aboon tho burn ItJi'l Tho moon had climb'd tho highest hill lOlti The moon shines bright :— In such a night as this V'*' The moon was a-waning I'Jl'l Tho morning hatli not lost her virgin blush dlU 'i'ho iiiorniug pc-arls 5^0 'J'ho Moslem spears wcro gleaming 1-110 Tuo niouiitaius high, whoso lofty tops do meet the haughty sky 02 The Muses are tui-n'd gossips ; they have lost 1107 The night-helm grew dusky 11 The north-east spends his rage ; ho coiY shut up 8 The rapid motion of the spheres 480 Tho readei-s and tho hearers like my books l.o2 The room is old— the night is cold 1700 The roses grew so thickly 1809 The sable mantle of the silent night 288 The sails were furl'd ; with many a melting close 1182 The sea ! the sea ! the open sea! 1681 The seal is set. — Now welcome, thou dread power ! 134b The seas are quiet when the winds give o'er 592 The season coau's when tirst wo met 1112 The sheep were in tho fold at night 1265 The shcryf dwelled in Notynghamo 524 The silver moon at midnight cold and still 1129 The silver moon's enaraour'd beam 1022 The shigtrish morn as yet undress'd 378 The smiling morn, the breathing spring ... 899 The social laws from insult to protect 930 The soit green grass is growing 1812 The soote season, that bud and bloom forth brings ^67 The soul of man is larger than the sky 1570 The soule which doth with Crod unite 328 The spacious firmament on high 766 The spearmen heard the bugle sound 139.> The stars are shining overhead 1271 The stately homes of England 1436 The summer and autumn had been so wet 1225 The .sun from the east tips the moiintains with gold 1037 The sun had set behind yon hills 725 The sun has gone down o'er the lofty Ben Lomoi^l 1600 The sue IS swiftly mounted high 813 The sun is warm, the sky is clear 1369 Tho sun rises bright in France 1627 The sun was sinking on tho mountain zone 1550 The sun's bright orb, declining all serene 94i> The thirsty earth soaks up the rain 542 The time so tranquil is and clear 392 The tongues of dying men 20G Ths topsails .shiver in the wind 1038 The tree of deepest root is found 1026 The troops exulting sat in order round 783 Tho truest ch;iracters of ignorance 644 . . . The Turks had ought 5S3 The twentieth year is well nigh past 1082 vo. ct rocu. The voice of tho morning in calling to childhood lOOS T tie wanton troopers riding by 63'J The warm sun is failing, the bleak wind ia wailing 1373 Tho water! the water! 1634 The Wildgravc winds his bugle bom i;i34 The wind is up, the field is bare 939 The wind, the wandering wind H.V) The wi.-;est of tho wi.so 1277 The world is too much with us ; late and soon 1190 The world is still deceived with ornament 190 The wrathfuU winter prochinge on a pace 9'! "Thee, Mary, with this ring 1 wed" 10O3 Thee, senseless stock, because thou'rt nehlygilt 371 Thee will I love, my strength, my tower... 1070 Theirs is yon house that holds the parish poor 1173 . . . their harboury was tane 49 Then came the jovial dav, no streaks of red .' 1121 Then clariouns and trumpets blew 61 I'hen died, lamented, in the strength of life ;. 117» Then tirst came Henry, Duke of Bucking- ham 98 Then Gudrun turned 1849 Then hear me, bounteous Heav«n 687 Then may 1 trust her body with her mind 495 Then wisdom ag.iin 6 Ther is lyf withoute ony deth 16 There are noble heads bowed down and pale 1697 There are twelve months in all the year ... 51S There be none of beauty's daughters 1340 There be those who sow beside 1455 There cam a bird out o' a bu.sh 532 There cam a strange wight to our town-en' 1650 There came a man making his h:isty moan 1404 There came three men out of the west 719 There did three knights come from the west 713 There dwells a people on the earth 507 There grew an aged tree on the green 127 There had not here as yet _1 There is a book, who runs may read 1796 There is a calm for those who weep 13S5 There is a flower, a little flower 1391 There is a garden in her face 486 There is a gloomy grandeur in the sun 1544 There is a iewel which no Indian mine can buy .... S04 There is a land, of every land tho pride... 13S9 There is a pleasure in the pathless woods... 1347 There is a willow grows ascaunt the brook 19'.> There is an ancient man who dwells 1733 There is an old proverb which all the world knows 742 There is continual spring and harvest there 1 :j2 There she sits in her Island home 1751 There the most dainty paradise on ground l">:'i There was a C^amoronian cat 73,"' There was a sound of revelry by night lo5S There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream llP^ There was an eye whoso partial glance 111^ There were twa sisters s;it in a Iww'r 527 "There, win the cup, and you shall have my girl ^'~' i Tliere's a good time cominir. boj-» 1(41 There's a magical tie to the land of our home l''-l Ixii THE FIRST LINES OF THE POEMS. >o OF ri'iii. There's glorj' on thy mountains, prou I Bengal ] •">-^l There's grandeur iu this soiiuiliiig storm IdlS There's music in the morning air U'll There's no dearth of kindness 17"'-j There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away 1 3')0 These are great maxims, sir, it is confess'd (J97 These, as they change, Almighty Father, these 874 These thoxights, night I are thine 8o5 They answer in a joint and corporate voice 197 They are all gone into the world of light... SHO They are tlown 1515 They course the glass, and let it take no rest ] 0.3 They grew in beaut}', side by side 1 4:5!) They rose iu freedom's rare sunrise 174.J They seized the keys, they jtatrolled the street 182(5 They sin who tell us love can die I217 Think not, 'cause men flatt'ring say 20G Thiuk not of the lutiu-e, the prospect is uncertain '. loOl This battle fares like to the morning's war ISO . . . This gentleman and I 47."> This Indian weed, now withered (juite 711 This is her picture as .she was 1842 This m;in of half a million 121() This morning, timely rapt with holy fire ... 240 This only grant me, that my means may lie 540 This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd Isle 202 This said, with hasty rage, he snatch'd ... G40 This song 's o^ a beggar who long lost his ■ sight 714 This truth of old was sorrow's friend 942 This was the ruler of the lancl 1538 This wavering warld's wretchedness 52 This world is full of variance 26 Those evening bells I those evening bells ! 1288 Those few pale autumn flowers 1530 Those whiter lilies which the early morn ... 368 Thou angel sent amongst us, sober Law ... 455 Thou art gone to the grave — we no longer deplore ihee 1381 Thou askest what has changed my heart... 1476 Thou blushing rose, within whose virgin leaves 369 Thou earnest with kind looks, when on the brink 12',9 Thou t.'allant court, to thee farewell ! Hi Thou happy, happy elf ! ]4,S(5 Thou hast beauty bright and fair 1 (',92 Thou ha-st vow'd by thy faith, my Jeanio 162.') Thou hidden love of God, whose height ... 10()7 Thou ling'ring star,- with le.ss'ning ray 1587 Thou lone companion of the spectred night ! 1155 Thou maid of gentle light ! thy straw-wove vest 1521 Thou mouldering mansion, whose embat- tled side 1218 Thou spirit of the spauL'led night ! 1170 Thou still unravi.shed brideof quietness !... 1823 Thou thrice denied, yet thrice beloved 1797 Thou, to whose eyes I bend, at whose com- mand 755 Thou wealthy man of larg-e poss^essions here 710 Though clouds obscureil the morning hour 1142 Though frost and snow lock'd from mine eyes 269 NO. OF POEU. Thouirh grief and fondness in my breast rebel 884 Though short thy span, God's unimpeach'd decrees 1146 Thoughts! what are they ? ()72 Three days before my Mary's death 1428 Three fishers went sailing out into the west 1800 Tlu'ice happy he who by some shady grove 36G Thrice has the spring beheld thy faded fame 903 Thrice, thrice happy shephenl's life and state! : 314 Through a close lane as I pursued my jour- ney 689 Through a fair forest as I went 505 Through the gaunt woods the winds are shrilling cold 1804 Through the hushad air the whit'ning shower descends 873 Through winter .streets to steer j'our course aritjht 805 Thus Eve replied : "0 thou for whom 627 Thus far have I pursued my solemn theme 1169 Thus, having in few images exprest 156 Thus spoke to my lady the knight full of care 775 Thus stood his mind when round him came acloud 1430 Thus were they fechtand in the pass 35 Thus when the plague, upborne on Belgian air 1093 Thy cheek is o' the rose's hue 1603 Thy fruit full well the schoolbo}' knows ... 1552 Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear , 200 Thy maid ! Ah ! find some nobler theme 551 Tiiy pencil traces on the lover's thought ... 1298 Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought 175 Thy spirit, independence,* let me share ... 921 Till at the last, among the bowes glade ... 38 Timely blossom, infant fair 791 Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmj"^ sleep ! 856 'Tis affection but dissembled 481 'Tis certain, that the modish passions 796 'Tis chastity, m J' brother, chastity (i07 'Tis long ago — we have toil'd and traded... 1781 'Tis not the gray hawk's flight o'er moun- tain and mere 1632 'Tis past ! no more the summer blooms ! . . . 963 'Tis past : the iron north has spent his rage 961 'Tis sweet to hoar the merry lark 1573 'Tis sweet to meet the morning breeze 140S 'Tis sweet to view from half-past five to six 1414 'Tis the first primrose ! see how meek 1266 'Tis the hourof even now 1459 'Tis the last rose of summer !... 1278 To all you ladies now at land 680 To battle! To battle ! 1639 To be, or not to be, that is the question ... 184 I'o fair Fidcle's grassy tomb 891 To one who has been long in city pent 1824 To pray to God continually 90 To speak of gifts and alnios deeds '? 54 'J'o take thy calling thankfully 83 To the brook and the willow that heard him complain 830 To the deep woods 865 To the ocean now I fly 609 To the sovmd of timbrels sweet 1667 To thee, fair Freedom, I retire 896 To view these walls each night I come alone 708 THE FIRST LINES OF THE POEMS. ixiH NO. OF FOEU. To you, my purse, and to none other witfht 22 To-day Death scorns to rae an infant child 1843 Together will ye walk through long, long streets 1420 To-morrow, Lord, is Thine 10(50 Too late, alas ! I iinist confess <)M Touch us pently, Time I lfit'4 Tread softly ! bow the head 1531 Treading the {lath to nobler ends 5i'9 Treason doth never prosper ; what's the reason ? 1 ■'>0 True Thomas lay on Huntley bank 531 Trusting in God with all her heart and mind 1091 " Turn, gentle hermit of the dale 916 Turn I my looks unto the skies 430 'Twas at tho royal feast for I'ersia won . . . 661 'Twas at the silent, solemn hour 897 'Twns early day, and sunlight stream'd 1446 'Twas in the battle-field, and the cold, pale moon 1 467 'Twas in the prime of summer time 1494 'Twas midnight — every mortal eye was closed 981 'Twas when the seas were roaring 803 'Twas when the wan leaf frae tho birk- tree was fa'in 1649 Twenty lost years have stolen their hours away 1031 Twice has the sun commenced his annual round 1164 Twilight's soft dews steal o'er the village green 1180 Two boys, whose birth beyond all question springs 958 Two of far nobler shape, erect and tall 626 Two pretty rills do meet, and meeting make 283 Two summers since I saw at Lammas fair 1175 U. Under yonder beech tree, standing on the green sward 1744 Underneath this myrtle shade 542 Underneath this sable herse 244 UnfadinL' Hope ! when life's last embers burn 1297 Unnumber'd objects ask thy honest care... 933 Upon a conch of silk and gold 1676 Upon a time a neighing steed 799 Upon tho white sea-sand 1784 Upon two stony tables, spread before her 313 Vain world, what is in thee ? 570 Vengeance will sit above our faults 236 Venomous thorns that are so sharp and keen 75 Victorious men of earth no more 461 Virtue's branches wither, virtue pines 435 Vital spark of heavenly flame 781 ^'oice of summer, keen and shrill 1765 W. NO. OF FOIlf. Wake now, my love, awake ; for it is time 128 Waken, lords and ladies gay 1332 Walking in a sbady grove 445 Wanton droll, whose harmless play 1473 Wanwordy, crazy, dinsomo thing 1054 Was not Christ our Saviour 88 We are born ; we laugh ; we weep 1696 Wo arc the sweet Mowers 14fX) Wo gather'd roimd the festive board 172^5 We have been dwellers in a lovely land ... 1732 We have been friends together 1713 We love the king who loves the law 1083 We oft by Ughtning read in darkest nights 696 We saw and woo'd each other's eyes 323 We that have known no greater state 474 We walk'd along, while bright and red 1212 Wo watched her breathing thro' the night 1497 Weary of wand'ring from my CJod 1065 Weave no more the marriage chain ! 1691 Wee, modest, crinison-tipp6d flower 1575 Weep, weep, you Argonauts 467 Weep you no more, sad fountains 497 Weigh me the tire ; or, canst thou find 350 Welcome, palo primrose ! starting up be- tween 1409 Welcome, thrice welcome, to this shady green 463 Welcome, welcome, happy pair 376 Well, children of men 7 Well obser\-e the nde of Xot too much 631 Well said tho wise man, now proved true by this 126 Weil, then ; I now do plainly see 546 Were I at once empower'd to show 951 Whan gloamin grey out owre the welkin keeks 1053 Whanno that April with his shoures soto . 19 What ails this heart o' mine ? 1103 What art thou, Mighty One ! and where thyseat? 1166 What beauties does Flora disclose ! 1029 What bird so sings, yet so does wail 405 What blessings attend, my dear mother, all those 1025 W bat constitutes a state ? 1011 What creature 's that, with his short hairs 741 What heart can think, or tongue express . 400 What hidest thou in thy treasure caves and cells 1437 What household thoughts around thee, as their shrine 1447 What I shall leave thee none can tell 251 What ! irks it, David, that the victor breathes 414 What is the existence of man's life 256 What is 't to us if taxes rise or fall ? 955 Wiiat lookest thou herein to have _S2 What miu'ht be done if men wero wise 1740 What pleasure, then, to walk and see 393 What slender youth, bedewed with liquid odours 5 \Miat stands upon tho highland ? 1794 What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted 207 What then is taste, but these internal powers • •" '- What though, Vftlclusa, the fond bard be tied lU42 e Ixiv THE FIRST LINES OF THE POEMS. NO. OF POBSI. ■\M3at torments are allotted those sad spirits 69i What tunes, what words, what looks, what wonders pierce 418 What was 't awaken'd first the untried ear 15C9 What will not men attempt for sacred praise 1 860 What wisdom more, what better life, than pleaseth God to send 89 What would I have you do ? I'll tell j'ou, kinsman 247 What would it pleasure me to have my throat cut 449 What's hallowed gi'ound ? Has earth a clod 1309 Whate'er you wish in landscape to excel... 1149 When age hath made me what I am not now 360 When all the fiercer passions cease 1178 When all thy mercies, my God 767 When Britain first, at Heaven's command. 879 When by God's inward light a bappj' child 1422 WTien cbapman billies leave the street 1591 When civil dudgeon first gi-ew high 637 When come was the month of May 30 When, cruel fair one, I am slain 565 When day is done, and clouds are low 1547 When, doff'd his casque, he felt free ah- ... 1316 When evening listen'd to the dripping oar 1240 When first thou earnest, gentle, shy, and fond 1731 When first thy eyes unvail, give thy soul leave .- 556 When from my humble bed I rise 1262 When gods had framed the sweets of woman's face 426 When homeward bands their several ways disperse 1159 When hope lies dead within the heart 1115 When I beneath the cold red earth am sleeping 1640 When I consider how my light is spent ... 613 When I first came to London, I rambled about 816 When I go musing all alone 487 When in the crimson cloud of even 991 When in the field of Mars we lie 746 When Israel of the Lord beloved 1324 When love with unconfined wings 355 When maidens such as He.ster die 1228 When marshall'd on the nightly plain 1167 When Music, heavenly maid, was young ... 890 When now mature in classic knowledge ... 973 When on my sick bed I languish ()73 When on the breath of autumn breeze ... 16t)() When our heads are bow'd with woe 16G8 When Phillis watched her harmless sleep . 703 When Phoebus lifts his head out of the winter's wave 1 42 When poets wrote, and painters drew 757 When princely Hamilton's abode 1325 When rising from the bed of death 769 When Robin Hood and Little John 525 When shaws be sheen, and swards full fair 519 When silent time wi' lightly foot 1102 When spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil 1382 When that the fields put on their gay attire 1008 When the black-letter' d list to the gods was presented 1,396 When the fierce north wind, with his airy forces 8.o3 When the lamp is shatter'd 1366 NO. OF POEM. When the merry lark did gild 1686 When the sheep are in the fauld, and the ky e at hame 1047 When this old cap was new 512 When thou has spent the lingi-ing day in pleasure and delight 105 When travels grete in matters thick 403 When we two parted 1342 When we were idlers with the loitering rills 1571 When wert thou born, Desire ? In pride and pomp of May 494 When Windsor walls sustain 'd my wearied arm 68 Whence comes my love ? Ob, heart disclose ; 99 Whence could arise this mighty critic spleen 953 Whene'er with haggard eyes I view 1145 Where am 1 ? Sure I wander 'midst en- chantment 688 Where gang ye, thou silly auld carle ? 1619 Where is that learned wretch that knows . 483 Where shall the lover rest 1328 Where the bee sucks, there lurk 1 209 Where the remote Bermudas ride 634 Where, where is the gate that once served to divide 1722 Where words are weak and foes encoun- t'ring strong 112 Where yonder ridgy mountains bound the scene 1120 Whereas in ward full oft I would bewail ... 42 Where'er I turn my eyes 1036 Whether in crowds or solitudes, in streets 1435 Whether the soul receives intelligence 137 While here my muse in discontent doth sing 278 While in my matchless graces wrapt I stand , 978 While in this park I sing, the list'ning deer 588 While on those lovely looks I gaze 654 While St. Serf, in til a stead 45 While shepherds watched then* flocks by night 822 While slowly wanders thy sequester'd stream 1247 While that the armed Hand doth fight abroad 203 V/hile with a strong and yet a gentle hand 587 While you, my lord, the rural shades admire 765 WhiLst in this cold and blustering clime ... 647 Whilst some affect the sun, and some the shade 842 Whither goest thou ? Here be woods as green 213 Who fears to speak of Ninety-eight ? 1793 Who has e'er been at Paris must needs know the Grevc 756 Who is yonder poor maniac, whose wildly fix'd eyes 1226 Who should this stranger be ? And then this casket 831 Who sleeps below ? — Who sleeps below ? . . . 1536 Who so to marry a minion wife 399 Who thus were ripe for high contemplating 1819 Whom fancy persuadeth, among other crops 84 Whoso was that gentle voice, that whisper- ing sweet 1255 Why art thou silent ? Is thy love a plant . 1200 Why art thou slow, thou rest of trouble, death 465 THE FIRST LINES OF THE POEMS. Ixr so. OF POEU. Why do JO weop, sweet babes ? Can tears 346 Why, Damon, with the forward day 8:32 Why (lid my parents send mo to the schools 221 Why didst thou raise suuh wooful wail 100 Why doth the stubbonio iron prove 313 Why is't damnation to despair and die .... 444 Why, little charmer of the air 7o7 Why should j-ou swear I am forsworn 3.52 Why so palo and wan, fond lover ! 329 Why, then I do but dream on sovereignty Ibl Why this will lug your priests and servants trom your sides 103 Why weep j-e by the tide, ladyo 1318 Why wouldst thou leave me, O gentle child .' 14.'J2 Wi' drums ami pipes the elachan rang 16.51 Will you heara Spanish lady 5-iS Willow! in thy breezy moan 1449 Wilt Thou fon,dve that sin where I begun 228 Wine, wine, in a morning G79 Wish'd morning 's come ; and now upon the plains 601 With cheerful step the traveller 1221 Willi face and fashion to bo known 7:54 With face and fashion to bo known 740 With farmer Allan at the farm abode 1703 With fingers weary and worn 1496 With fragrant Howers wo strew the way ... 122 With how sad steps, moon, thou climb'st the skies 107 With little hero to do or see 1208 With quieken'd step 868 With silent awe I hail the sacred mom lliJO With some good ten of his chosen men, Bernardo hath appear'd 1522 With that low cunning, which in fools supplies n,')6 Within a little silent grove hard by 333 Within a thick and spreading hawthorn bush 1410 Within the castlo bath the queen devised.. 141 Within tlie hall, neither rich nor yet poor 37 Woman ! when I behold thee, flippant, vain 1821 Woodmen, shepherds, come away 460 Word was broufjht to the Danish king- 1716 Would my good lady love me best 50 Would you know what's soft ? I dare 2.'i9 Wouldst thou view the lion's den ? 1479 Wreathe the bowl 1279 Y, KO. or FOBU. Ye banks, and braos, and streams around , 1."jS(J Ye distant spires, ye antique towers 907 Ye have been fresh and green 314 Ye holy towers that shade the wave-worn steep 1 246 Ye little birds that sit and sing 471 Ye mariners of England 1305 Ye midnight shades ! o'er Nature spread... 900 Ye nymphs of Solyma ! begin the song ... 776 Ye quenchless stars ! so eloquently bright I4S1 Ye rocks ! ye elements ! thou shoreless main 1555 Ye shepherds of this pleasant vale 882 Ye shepherds so cheerful and gay 894 Ye wha are fain to hae your name 1052 Ye who amid this feverish world would wear 924 Ye who have scom'd each other 1 739 Ye who with warmth the pubhc triumph feel 1090 Yee blushing virgins happie are 316 Yes ! there are real mourners. — I have seen 1177 Yes, there is holy pleasure in thine eye !... 1205 Ye.s, wife, I'd be a throned king 1774 Yet, as through Tagus' fair transparent streams 490 Yet, I confess, in this my pilgrimage 279 Yet in prison was King Davy 44 Yet once more, ye laurels, and once more 605 " You are Old Father William," the young man cried 1223 You are right, justice, and you weigh this well 177 You ask us why the soil the thistle breeds 787 You earthly souls that count a wanton flame 563 Yon mansion, made by beaming tapers gay 841 You meaner beauties of the night 158 You mighty lords that with respected grace 139 You that haue spent the silent night 104 You were used to say 194 Young Henry was as brave a youth 1138 Your weddiog-riiig wears thin, dear wife ; ah, summers ".ot a few 1763 e2 BIOGPtAPIIIES OF THE AMERICAN POETS. Adams, John Quincy. AUstun, Wasliiugton. Barlow, Joel. Bryant, William CuUen. Clifton, William. Dwight, Timothy. Emorson, Ralph WalJo. English, Thomas Dunn. Frencau, Phillip. Halleck, Fitz-Greene. Hoflfman, Charles Fenno. llolmos, Oliver WemJell. Ilonoywood, St. John. Ilopkinsoii, Joseph. Humphreys, David. Liiland, Charles G. Longfellow, Henry WadsworLh. Lowell, James Russell. Morris, George P. Foe, Edgar Allan, liead, Thomas Buchanan. Schoolcraft. Henry Pvowe. Stoddard, R. H. Taylor. Bayard. Trumbull, johi;. Tuckorman, Henry Theodore. Whittier, John Greenleaf. Willi.s, N. P. NAMES OF AMERICAN POETS WITE NUMBERS OF POEMS. NO. OP POKM. Adams, John Quincy 1850 Akers, Elizabeth 1I)3&-104.5 Allston, Washington 1853 Barlow, Joel 1848 Bryant, William Cullen 1855-1859 Clark, Willis G 1898 Clifton, William 1852 Dwight, Timothy.. 1846 Emerson, Ralph Waldo 1864-1870 English, Thomas Dunn .... 1918 Freneau, Phillip 1844 VO. OF POEM. Halleck, Fitz-Greeno 1860-186-2 Hoffman, Charles Fenno... 1871 Holmes, Oliver Wendell 1889-1897 Honeywood, St. John 1849 Hopkinson, Joseph 1851 Humphreys, David 1847 Leland. Charles G.... 1921-1923 Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth 1872-1883 Lowell, James Russell 1911-1917 Morris, George P 1863 J Poe, Edgar Allan.... 1899-1908 NO. OF POKM. Read, Thomas Buchanan i;»19, 1920 Saxe, J. G 1936,1937 Schoolcraft, Henry Rowe.. 1854 Stoddard, R. H 19.32-1935 Taylor, Bavard 1924-1931 Trumbull, John 1845 Tuckerman, Henry Theodore ■ 1909, 1910 Whittier, John Greenleaf 1885-1888 Willis, N.P 1884 NAMES OF AMERICAN POETS AVITH THE TITLES OF POEMS. HO. OF rOBM. ADAMS. JOHN QUINCY. The Wants of Man 1S50 AKERS, ETJZ.\BETH. Broken Faith 1938 Time 1939 Endurance 1940 SineiHg in the Rain 1941 HO. OF POBM. A Dream 19J2 Kisses ]lf Rock me to Sleep ]l*l Lost l^-*^ ALLSTON, WASHINGTON. America to Great Britain i^-'-'i Isviii AMERICAN POETS. KO. OF rOEM. BARLOW, JOEL. Burning of New England Villages IS-iS BRYANT, WILLIAM CULLEN. The Prairies IS.w Forest Hymn 1^56 The Antiquity of Freedom 18.")7 Oh Mother of a Mighty Race ISnS Song of Marion's Wen 1859 CLARK, WILLIS G. Euthanasia 1S9S CLIFTON. WILLIAM. To WUliam Gitf ord, Esq 1852 DWIGHT, TIMOTHY. England and America 18-16 EMERSON, RALPH WALDO. "Good-bye, Proud World !" 1864 To the Humble Bee 18(^5 The Snow-Storm 18(36 The Problem 1867 The Poet 1868 Dirge 1869 The Mountain and the Squirrel 1870 ENGLISH, THOMAS DUNN. Ben Bolt 1918 FRENEAU, PHILIP. Tne Dying Indian 1844 HALLECK, FITZ-GREENE. Burns 1860 Alnwick Castle 1861 Mai-co Bozzaris 1862 HOFFMAN, CHARLES FENNO. The Origin of Mint Juleps 1871 HOLMES, OLIVER WENDELL. On Lending a Punch-Bowl 1889 An Evening Thought 1890 La Grisette 1891 The Treadmill Song 1892 Latter- Day Warnings 1893 The Old Man's Dream 1894 What we :dl Think 1895 The Last Blossom 1896 Contentment 1897 HONEYWOOD, ST. JOHN. Crimes and Punishments 1849 HOPKINSON, JOSEPH. Hail, Columbia ! 1851 HUMPHREYS, DAVID. Western Emigration 1847 LELAND, CHARLES G. Theleme 1921 A Dream of Love 1922 The Three Friends 1923 LONGFELLOW, HENRY WADSWORTH. _ Nuremhurg 1872 The Arsenal at Sjiringfield 1873 The Skeleton in Armour 1874 A Psalm of Life 1875 NO. OF POEM. Eudymion 1S76 The Boieagured City 1877 It is not always May 1878 Midnio:ht Mass for the Dying Year 1879 Maidenhood 1880 The Children's Horn- 1881 A Spring Landscape 1882 The Wreck oi the Hesperus 1883 LOWELL, JAMES RUSSELL. To the Dandelion 1911 The Poet 1912 The Sirens 1913 An Incident in a Railroad Car 1914 The Heritage 1915 To the Future 1916 The Fountain 1917 MORRIS, GEORGE P. Woodman, Spare that Tree 1863 POE, EDGAR ALLAN. Annabel Lee 1899 Ulalume: A Ballad 1900 Dream-land 1901 Lenore 1902 Israfel 1903 The Bells 1904 To F. S. 1905 For Annie 1906 The Raven 1907 The Conqueror Worm 1908 READ, THOMAS BUCHANAN. The Brickmaker 1919 My Hermitage 1920 SAXE, J. G. The Way of the World 19.36 Ye Tailyor-man 1937 SCHOOLCRAFT, HENRY ROWE. Geehale : An Indian Lament 1854 STODDARD, R. H. Leonatus 1932 The Shadow of the Hand 1933 Invocation to Sleep 1934 At Rest 1935 TAYLOR, BAYARD. Bedouin Song 1924 The Arab to the Palm 1925 Kubleh 1926 The Poet in the East 1927 Kilimandjaro 1928 An Oriental Id.vll 1929 Hassan to his Mare 1930 The Phantom 1931 TRUMBULL, JOHN. Character of McFingal 1845 TUCKEPvMAN, HENRY THEODORE. Mary 1909 Florence 1910 WHITTIER, JOHN GREENLEAF. The iiallad of Cassandra Southwick... 1885 Pentucket 1886 Randolph of Roanoke 1887 Democracy 1888 WILLIS, N. P. April Violets 1884 TITLES OF THE AMERICAN POEMS. KO, OF FOBM. Alnwick Castlo 18<_31 America to Great Britain 1853 Annabel Lee 1899 Antiquity of Freedom, The 1857 April Violets 1884 Arab to the Palm 1925 Arsenal at Springfield, The 1873 Atlicst 1935 Ballad of Cassandra South wick, The 1885 Bedouin Sonp: 1924 Beleatrured City, The 1877 Bells, Tbe 1904 Ben Bolt 1918 Brickmaker, The 1919 Broken Faith 1938 Burning of New England Villages 1848 Burns 18G0 Character of McFingal 1845 Children's Hour, The 1881 Conquei-or Worm, The 1908 Contentment 1897 Crimes and Punishments 1849 Democracy 1888 Dirge 1869 Dream, A 1942 Dream of Lore, A 1922 Dreamland 1901 Dying Indian, The 1844 Endurance 1940 Endymion 1S76 England and America 1846 Euthanasia 1898 Evening Thought, An 1890 Florence 1910 Fountain. The 1917 For Annie 1906 Forest Hymn 1856 Geehale : an Indian Lament 1S54 " Good-bye, Proud World !" 1864 Hail, Columbia ! '.... 1851 Hassan to his Mare 19o0 Heritage, The 1915 Incident in a Railway Cai*, An 1914 Invocation to Sleep 1934 Israfel 1903 It is not always May 1878 Kilimandjaro 1928 Kisses 1943 Kubleh 1926 LaGrisette 1891 Last Blossom, The 1896 VO. OF POBW. Latter-day Warnings 1S9:J Lenore W>-2 Leonatus 1932 Lost 1945 Maidenhood 18S0 Marco Bozzaris 18')2 Mary 19(^i;t Midnight Mass for the Dyincr Year 1879 Mountain and the Squirrel, The 1870 My Hermitage 1920 Nuremburg 1S72 Oh Mother of a Mighty Race 1858 Old Man's Dream, The 1894 On Lfudinir a Punch-Bowl 18S9 Oriental Idyll, An 1929 Origin of Mint Juleps, The 1871 Penttickct 1886 Phantom, The 1931 Poet in the East, The 1927 Poet, The 1868 Poet, The 1912 Prairies, The 1855 Problem, The 1867 Psalm of Life, A 1875 Randolph of Roanoke 1887 Raven, The 1907 Rock me to Sleep 1944 Shadow of the Hand, The 1933 Skeleton in Armour, The 1874 Singing in the Itain 1941 Sirens. The 1913 Snow-Storm, The 1866 Song of Marion's Men 1859 Spring Landscape, A 1SS2 Theleme 1921 Three Friends, The 1923 Time 1939 To F. S. 1905 To the DandeUon 1911 To the Future •. 1916 To the Humble Bee 1865 To William Gifford, Esq 1852 Treadmill Song, The 1892 Ulalume: a Ballad 1900 Wants of M.in, The 1850 W.ay of the World, The 1936 Western Emigration 1847 What wo all Think 1895 Woodman, Spare that Tree 1863 Wreck of the Hesperus, The 1SS3 Ye Tailyor-man 1937 Ixx AMERICAN POETS. FIRST LINES OF AMERICAN POEMS. N'O. OP POKM. Ac^iu I sit within the mansion 1 931 Ah, broken is the golden bowl 1902 Ah, Clemence, when I saw thee last 1891 All hail ! thou noble land 1853 Announced by all the trumpets of the sky IBGtJ A silver javelin which the hills 1929 At midnight, in his guarded tent 1862 A youth would marry a maiden 1936 Back again, darling/ day of delight !.... 1912 Backward, turn backward, Time, in your flight 1944 Between the dark and the daylight 1881 Buds on the apple-boughs 1938 By a route obscure and lonely 1901 Come, my beauty ! come, my desert darling! 1930 Dear, common flower, that grow'st beside the way 1911 Don't you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt? 1918 Draw the curtains round your bed 1934 Fine humble-bee ! fine humble-bee ! 1865 For this present, hard 1868 From the desert, I come to thee 1924 Good-bye, proud world ! I'm going home.. 1864 Hail, Columbia ! happy land 1851 Hail to thee, monarch of African mountains 1928 Hear the sledges with the bells 1904 Here are old trees, tall oaks, and gnarled pines 1 857 He spoke of Bums ; men rude and rough.. 1914 Home of the Percy's high-born race 1861 How much the heart may bear, and yet not break! 1940 How sweetly on the wood-girt town 1886 I dream'd I lay beside the dark blue Rhine 1922 If sometimes in the dark blue eye 1890 I have found violets. April hath come on. 1884 I have read in some old marvellous tale 1877 I have three friends, three glorious friends, three dearer could nut be 1923 I like a church, 1 like a cowl 1867 In heaven and earth a spirit doth dwell ... 1903 la the old days of awe and keen-eyed wonder 1912 In the valley of Pegnitz, where across broad meadow lands 1872 In these cold shades, beneath these shift- ing skies 1852 Into the sunshine 1917 I sat one night on a palace step 1921 It was many and many a year ago 1899 It was the schooner Hesperus 1883 Knows he who tills this lonely field 1869 Let the blinded horse go round 1919 Little I ask; my wants are few 1897 Lo! 'Tis a gala night 1908 Maiden! with the meek, brown eyes 1880 Man wants but little here below 18.50 Methinks, when on the languid eye 1898 Next to thee, fair gazelle 1925 Of crimes, empoison'd eourco of human woes 1819 NO. OF POBM. Oh, faire.st born of love and light 1888 Oh for one hour of youthful joy ! 1894 Oh, mother Earth ! upon thy lap 1887 Oh mother of a mighty race 1858 0, Land of Promise I from what Pisgah's height 1916 Once upon a midnight dreary 1907 On yonder lake I spread the sail no more 1844 Our band is few, but true and tried 1859 Princes, when soften'd in thy sweet cm- brace 1910 Right joUie is ye tailyor-man 1937 Soon tleets the sunbright form, by man adored 1846 " Speak ! speak ! thou fearful guest ! " 1874 Tell me not in mournful numbers 1875 Thank Heaven ! the crisis 1906 That age was older once than now 1895 The blackbird is singing on Michigan's shore 1 S.')4 The black-eyed children of the Desert drove 1926 The fair boy Leonatus 1932 The green trees whisper'dlow and mild 1882 The groves were God's first temples 1856 The kiss of friendship, kind and calm 1943 The mountain and the squirrel 1870 The poet came to the land of the East 1927 The rich man's son inherits lands 1915 The rising moon has hid the stars 1876 The sea is lonely, the sea is dreary' 1913 These are the gardens of the desert, these 1855 The skies they are ashen and sober 1900 The stars are rolling in the sky 1892 The sun is bright, the air is clear 1878 The word has come ; — go forth 1945 This ancient, silver bowl of mine, it tells of good old times 1889 This is the arsenal. From floor to ceiling 1873 Though young no more we still would dream 1896 Thou would'st be loved? — then let thy heart 1905 Through solid curls of smoke, the bursting fires 1848 Tis said that the Gods, on Olympus of old 1871 To the God of all sure mercies let my blessing rise to-day 1885 What though the name is old and oft re- peated 1909 When legislators keep the law 1893 When Yankees, skill'd in martial rule 1845 Where the elm-tree branches by the rain arestirr'd 1941 Wild rose (if Alloway, my thanks 1860 With all that's ours, together let us rise... 1847 With folded hands the lady lies 1935 Within a wood one summer's day 1920 Woixlmau, spare that tree! 1S63 Yes, the year is growing old 1879 You see the tree that sweeps my window pane? 19.39 You were very charming, madam 1933 THE FIRST PEHIOD, FEOM THE EARLIEST PERIOD TO THE YEAR UOO. «c T)ELO"VED indeed," says dear old genial Dil)iin, "is the poetry of our own countrj'." Jj It expresses all the great changes England has undergone. It tells of its manners and customs, of its thoughts and feelings, of its hopes and fears, of its inner and outward life. One cannot read it \\4thout gaining an insight into the evcry-day experience of our forefathers. AMiatever is keenly felt is sure to manifest itself in language of touching verse. And thus it has been in times gone by ; the real life of the people, of the prince and the peasant, has found an utterance in the poetry of our gifted bards. Indeed, more of true history may bo learnt from even the slight and almost despised Ballad, sung about the streets, than from the moro dignified and solemn narrative of the historian. Ho takes generally what is called a deep and philosophical \-ie\v of events and men ami manners, but one little song sung by a few strolling minstrels before the houses of the rich or poor tells us more of what Engknd \yas, and what were England's feelings, than all this pomp and parade of philosophic learning. Just indeed as one may know a man for years, and never, notwithstanding admiration for his intellect and accomplishments, get one glimpse of his heart, and yet in some unforeseen moment of sudden joy or sorrow learn for the first time the deep tenderness of his heart ; so with the poetry of any land ; it opens up the unselfish soul of a nation ; it shows that there is the freshness of spring, when all seems sear and withered with frost and snow and sleet and winter ; it reveals the love of the holy and the best, and brings down to earth, as it were, heaven in its purity and sweetness, and divine, untainted loveliness and glory. And also, poetry reveals the darker doings of mankind, opens up the terrible passions of mankind, shows human nature as it too often is, thoroughly regardless of the pure and the beautiful and the good. Yet, tliis is but exceptional, its spirit is rather to breathe s^yeet and loving accents, to gather together eai-th's beauties, to depict scenes of fairest loveliness, to tell of holiest sacrifices, to bring down as it were the very glories of a world beyond to a ■world which knows sorrow and pain and sickness and death. This oiu- earliest period is characterized by many features which make it essentially different to all the rest. Its poetry is the rude utterance of a rudo but brave people. A few mission- aries of Christ were almost the only ones who helped to a purer faith and feeling. Then camo wars, and invasions, and mLxturo of races ; still the old primitive British Church, planted likely by the Apostle St. Paul, maintained her hold upon the affections of the people and influenced even her conquerors. But Eome camo and conquered, Augustine came ; — then attacks from Danes, then William the Korman ; thus the language became inundated with words from other nations, our own early speech was considered \Tilgar, the conquerors' speech prevailed. Yet notwithstanding aH this confusion, the early speech of our old forefathers maintained a bold which to this day has not been lost. The poetry therefore of this period will be found to bo of a varied nature, exhibiting great force and vigour, and sometimes verses of touching sweetness and beauty. BIOGEAPHICAL NOTICES. CiEDilON. CcEdmon is considered the earliest of otir English poets. Ho was a man sprung from the people, and at one time in his life was a mere cowherd. Ho was, however, addressed one night by a stranger, as ho thought, in his sleep, and asked to sing a song. He replied that he covdd not, when the stranger urged that he could, and that ho could sing the "Creation." Cffidmon then, wondering at himself, began to sing most beautiful verses. Ho soon afterwards awoke, and went im- mediately to the Keeve of Whitby, who, \viso and good man that ho was, took him to tho abbey and told the wondrous story to tho Abbess Hilda. He recounted tho last night's adventure and repeated tho verses, which at once obtained tho admiration of the persons present. They then esphuncd to him other BIOGEAPHICAL NOTICES. [First Period.— From the parts of Holy Scripture, whereupon lie went home and produced a beautiful poem. At tlio request of the abbess ho became a monk, and continued to ^vrite poems founded on Sacred History. Our readers will notice the striking re- semblance between Cfedmon's account of " The Fall of Man," &c., and portions of Milton's " Paradise Lost." Conybeare, in his " Illustrations of Au'^lo-Saxon Poetry," says — " The pride, rebellion, and punishment of Satan and his princes have a resemblance to Milton so remarkable, that most of this por- tion mijrht be almost Uterally translated by a cento of lines from the great poet." The time of Caedmon's death is uncertain, probably about 680. ALFEED THE GEEAT. Alfred the Great was the youngest son of Ethelwolf, king of the AVest Saxons, and Osburga, daughter of Oslac the Goth, who inherited the blood of the sub-kings of the Isle of Wight. At the age of five he was sent to Eome, whore Leo IV. anointed him with the royal unction. When only twenty-two years of age he found himself the monarch of a distracted kingdom. After several un- fortunate battles with the Danes, he dis- banded his followers and wandered about the woods, and finally found shelter in the cottage of a herdsman naracd Denulf, at Athelney, in Somersetshire. Here occurred the interesting event which has pleased so many boys and girls — the burning of the cakes. Ecceiving information that Odun, Earl of Devon, had obtained a victory over the Danes in Devonshire, and had taken their magical standard, he disguised himself as a harper and obtained admission to the Danish camp, where his skill was so much admired that ho was retained a considerable time, and was admitted to play before King Gorm, or Guthrum, and his chiefs. Having, by these means, gained a knowledge of his enemy, he collected his vassals and nobles, surprised the Danes at Eddington, and completely defeated them, in May, 878. The king behaved with great magnanimity to his foes, giving up the kingdom of East Anglia to those of the Danes who embraced the Christian religion. Ha now put his kingdom into a state of defence, and greatly increased his navy, and Viy his energy, activity, bravery, and wisdom the country became exceedingly prosperous. He is said to have fought fifty-six battles by sea and land, although hi» valour as a warrior has excited loss admiration than his wisdom as a legislator. He composed a body of statutes, instituted trial by jury, divided the kingdom into shires and tithings. He was 80 exact in his government that robbery was unheard of, and gold chains might be left in the highways untouched. He also formed a parliament, which met in London twice a year. There was so little learning in his time, that from the Thames to the Humbor hardly a man could bo found who understood Latin. To remedy this state of things, he invited learned men from all parts, and endowed schools throughout the kingdom ; and if indeed he was not the founder of the University of Oxford, he raised it to a reputation which it had never before enjoyed. Among other acts of munificence to that seat of learning he founded University College. Ho himself was a learned prince, composed several works, translated the historical works of Orosius and Bede, some religious and moral treatises, perhaps iEsop's Fables and the Psalms of David ; also the Metres of Bocthius. Ho divided the twenty-four hours into three equal parts ; one he devoted to the service of God, another to public affairs, and the third to rest and refresliment. In private life ho was benevolent, pious, cheerful and affable ; the story of his giving the poor beggar half his loaf when famished himself is one of the many things which have won for him the love and admiration of all true Englishmen. He was bom at Wantage in Berkshire, 849 ; died 900. — See Beeton's Universal Biocjraphy, p. 50. EOBEET OF GLOUCESTEE. Eobert of Gloucester lived during the reigns of Henry III. and Edward I. ; and comiTOsed, in verse, "The Chronicle of English Affairs," from the earliest to his own times. He was a monk of Gloucester Abbey ; hence he is called Eobert of Gloucester. Warton describes the work as alike destitute of art and imagination, and in many parts even less poetical than the prose history by Geoffrey of Monmouth, from which most of the events were taken. Another critic, however, speaks of his poem as in gcncrp,l appropriate and dramatic, proving not only his good sense, but also his eloquence. There are several copies of his v/ork, which was edited by Hearne and pub- lished in 1724. — Sec Chamhers, vol. i. p. 6. EOBEET DE BEUNNE, Eobert de Brunnc, or Eobert Mannyng, a native of Brunne, in Lincolnshire, was a canon of the Gilbertine order, and resident in the priory of Sempringham ten years in the time of Prior John of Camclton, and five years with John of Clyntone. In 1303 he began his translation, or rather paraphrase, of "Manuel Peche," or " Manuel des Peches," that is, " The Manuel of &iins." It is along production, treating of the Decalogue and the Seven Deadly Sins, which are illustrated by many legendary stories. It was never printed, but is preserved in the Bodleian Library MSS., No. 415, and in the Harleian MSS., No. 1,701. In this work he remonstrates upon the introduction of foreign terms into the Earliest Times to 1400.] BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. lan^age : " I seko," saj's he, " no straungo Yn-lyss." But a more important work of his is "A Metrical Chronicle of England." The former part is a translation from an old French poet, called Maister Wace, or Gasse, who copied Geoffrey of Monmouth in a poem called "Koman des Eois d'Angleterre." The second part of " De I'ninne's Chronicle," beginning from Cadwalladcr, and ending with Edward I., is translated principally from a chronicle by Peter Langtoft, an Angrustine canon of Bridlington, in Yorkshire, who is supposed to have died in the reign of Edward II., and was therefore a contemporary of Do Brunno. Heamo edited De Bninuo, but suppressed much of the translation. Both Ellis and Warton refer to tliis poet. — Alibonc, vol. i. p. 269. KICILVED EOLLE. Eichard Eolle, a hermit of the order of St. Augustine and doctor of divinity, who lived a Bolitarj' life near the nunnery of Hampole, four miles from Doncaster. He wrote metrical paraphrases of certain parts of Scripture, and an original poem of a moral and religious nature, entitleil, " Tlie Pricks of Conscience ;" but of the latter work it is not certainly Icnown tliat ho composed it in English, there being some reason for believing that, in its present form, it is a translation from a Latin original written by him. — Cluimhcrs, vol. i. p. 11. EOBEET LANGLANDE. Eobert Langlando was one of the first disciples of Wickliffe, and composed a curious poem, entitled " The Visions of Piers Plow- man," intended as a satire on almost every description of men, but especially the clergy. It is written in blank verse, with vdt and humour, in an alliterative measure. — (See liccton's Dictionary of Univosal Biograj)hy, p. 627.) Chambers says of this work : " ' The Vision of Pierce Plowman,* a satirical poem, ascribed to Robert Longlande, a secular priest, also shows very expressively the progress which was made, about the middle of the fourteenth century, towards a literary style. This poem, in manj' points of view, is one of the most import-ant works that appeared in England previous to the invention of printing. It is the popular representative of the doc- trines whicli were silently bringing about the Eeformation, and it is a peculiarly national poem, not only as being a mucli purer specimen of the English language th.in Chaucer, but as exhibiting the revival of the same system of al- literation which characterized the Anglo-Saxon poetry. It is, in fact, both in this peculiarity and in its political character, characteristic of a great literary and political revolution, in which the language as well as tho independence of the Anglo-Saxons had at last gained tho ascendency over those of the Normans. Pierce is represented as falling asleep on the Malvern Hills, and as seeing, in hi.s nleep, a series of visions ; in descriliing these, he ex- poses the corruptions of society, but particu- larly the dissolute lives of the religious orders, with much bitterness." — C/iaxif/c;-;)-, vol.i. p. 11. GEOFFEEY CHAUCEE. Geoffrey Chaucer, 1328—1400, the father of English poetry, was a native of London. His parentage and early life are involved in great obscurity, and the honour of his education is claimed by both Universities. He was a great favourite at the court of Edward III., and a devoted .adherent to the celebrated John of Gaunt. Duke of Lancaster, whoso sister-in-law. Philippa de Kouct, ac- cepted tho offer of his hand. By this connec- tion the poet became linked with the good or ill fortune which attaches to greatness. But tliis generally received nan-ative has been doubted bj' some critics. In 13oG we find Chaucer bearing arms in the expedition of Edward III. against Franco. For some time he was held as a prisoner of war by the enemy. In 13G7 he was allowed an annual pension of twenty marks, between two or three hundred pounds of our present money; and in 1373 v/as employed in an embassy to Genoa on affairs of the State. A year later than this ho was appointed Comptroller of the Customs of Wool, &c. It was during this visit to Italy — he had before travelled on the Continent — that ho enjoyed some delightful converse with Petrarch, to which he alludes in the Prologue to the Clerke's Talc : — " I wol j'ou tell a talc, which that I Learned at Padowe of a worthy clerk, As proved by his wordes and his wcrk ; Fitiunceis Petrark, the laureat poetc, Highte this clerk whos rhetorike sweto Enlumined all It.aillc of poetrie. As Ljmj-an did of philosophic," &c. Mr. TjTwhitt is inclined to doubt this meeting of the poets, but De Sala promi.'-cd to prove its occun-ence. He died before he fulfilled the pledge. Four years before this acquaintance, Chaucer had added to the evidence of his own poetical talents by tho Lament for tho Death of Blanche, Duchess of Lancaster, entitled " The Book of tho Duchessc." In the early part of the reign of Eichard II. our poet became involved in the political religioustroubles of the day, espousing the cause of John Comberton (John do Northampton), a warm cl.ampion of the doctrines of "Wickliffe. Comberton was im- prisoned, while Chaucer escaped the Fame fate by a precipitate flight to the Continent. Of course he lost his place in the Cu.-toms. He was so imj rudont as to return to Loudon BIOGEAPHICAL NOTICES. [First Pekiod. within a short period ; was committed to the Tower, and only released by disclosing the names and projects of his late associates. For this breach of confidence he subsequently ex- perienced great remorse, and composed his " Testament of Love," in which he complains of the change in his fortunes and of the disgrace in which his conduct had involved him. Campbell, in his " Specimens of the British Poets," says, " It is not known what he revealed; certainly nothing to the prejudice of John of Gavmt, since that prince continued to be his friend. To his acknowledged partisans, who had betrayed and tried to starve him during his banishment, he owed no fidelity. It is true that extorted e\'idence is one of the last ransoms which a noble mind would wish to pay for liberty ; but before we blame Chaucer for making any confession, we should con- sider how fair and easy the lessons of uncapitulating fortitude may appear on the outside of a prison, and yet how hard it may be to read them by the light of a dungeon. As far as dates can be guessed at in so obscure a transaction, his liberation took place after Richard had shaken off the domineering party of Gloucester, and had begun to act for himself. Chaucer's political errors — and he considered his share in the late conspiracy as an error of judgment, though not of intention — had been committed while Richard was a minor, and acknowledgment of them might seem less humiliating when made to the monarch himself, than to an usurping faction ruhng in his name. He was charged too, by» his loyalty, to make certain disclosures im- portant to the peace of the kingdom ; and his duty as a subject, independent of personal considerations, might well bo i)ut in competi- tion with ties to associates already broken by their treachery." — Campbell, j). 2. In 1389 his great patron returned from abroad, and Chaucer's fortunes improved. He was appointed Clerk of the Works at West- minster, and soon after to those at Windsor. He retained these offices scarcely two years, when he retired, at the age of sixty-four, to Woodstock, at which quiet town he composed liis immortal " Canterbury Tales." In 13S-1 he received a pension of ,£20 per annum, and during the last year of Richard's reign ho was granted yearly a tun of wine. These vrere continued under the new reign, with an additional pension of forty marks. He did not long live to enjoy this accession of for- tune, for on the 25th of October, 1400, he died. He was buried in Westminster Abbey. " Chaucer's forte," writes a poet and critic, " is description ; much of his moral reflection is superfluous ; none of his painting charac- teristic. His men and women are not mere ladies and gentlemen, like those who furnish apologies for Boccaccio's stories. They rise before us minutely traced, profusely varied, and strongly discriminated. Their features and casual manners seem to have an amusing cougruity with thoir moral characters. He notices minute cu-cumstauces as if by chance ; but every touch has its effect on our con- ception so distinctly, that we seem to live and travel vnth his personages throughout the journey." JOHN GOWER. John Gower, 132.5 (?)— 1402, was con- temporary and friend of Chaucer. He was a student of law in the Inner Temple, a man of substance, much esteemed, and lost his sight about three years previous to his death. Be- yond these particulars nothing further is known. His monument is still to be seen in St. Saviour's Chm-ch. As to his poems, it may truly be said, " that even in the lighter strains of his muse he sought to be the in- structor of the dark age in which his lot was cast." Peacham, iu his " Compleat Gentle- man," says, " His verses are full of good and brave morabtie." " Indeed," as Warton remarks, " if Chaucer had not existed, the compositions of Gower would have been sufficient to rcsciie the reigns of Edward III. and Richard II. from the imputation of barbarism." JOHN BARBOUR. John Barbour, Barber, Barbere, or Barbar, Archdeacon of Aberdeen, died 1396, is one of the earliest Scottish poets and historians. The date and place of his birth are un- known. He wrote a metrical chronicle, entitled "The Bruce," which recounts the heroic deeds of Robert I. in support of his country's independence. Some writers affirm that the work was undertaken at the request of Robert's son and successor. He wTote another work, in which he gives a genealogical history of the kings of Scotland, and traces their origin to the Trojan colony of Brutus. In 1357 we find that he received from Edward III., of England, a safe-conduct in these words : " John Barber, Archdeacon of Aberdeen, with three scholars in his company. Coming in order to study in the University of Oxford, and perform his scholastic exer- cises." A learned writer says, " Our Arch- deacon was not only famous for his extensive knowledge in the philosophy and divinity of those times, but still more admired for his admirable genius for English poetry ; in v/hich he composed a history of the life and glorious actions of Robert Bruce — a work not only remarkable for its copious cir- cumstantial details of the exploits of that illustrious prince and his brave companions in arms, Randolff, Earl of Moray, and the Lord James Douglas, but also for the beauty of its style, which is not inferior to that of his contemporary Chaucer." THE BOOK OF POETRY. FIRST PERIOR From Vie Earliest Times to 1400. I.— THE FIEST DAT. Theee had not here as yet, Save cavem-shade, Aught been ; But this wide abyss Stood deep and dim, Strange to its Lord, Idle and useless ; On which looked with his eyes The King firm of mind, And beheld those places Void of joys ; Saw the dark cloud Lower in eternal night. Swart under heaven, Dark and waste, Until this worldly creation Through the world existed Of the Glory-King. Here first shaped The Lord eternal, Chief of all Creatures Heaven and earth ; The firmament upreared, And this spacious land Established, By His strong Powers, The Lord Almighty. The earth as yet was Not green with grass ; Ocean co>'ered, Swart in eternal night, Tax and wide. The dusky ways. Then was the glory-bright Spirit of heaven's Guardian Borne over the deep "With utmost speed : The Creator of angels bade, The Lord of life, Light to come forth Over the spacious deep. Quickly was fulfilled The high King's behest ; For him was holy light Over the waste, As the Maker bade. Then sundered The Lord of triumphs Over the ocean-flood Light from darkness. Shade from brightness, Then gave names to both The Lord of life. Light was first Through the Lord's word Named day ; Beauteous, bright creation ! "Well pleased The Lord at the beginning The procreative time. The first day saw Tlie dark shade Swart prevailing Over the wide abyss. Cadmon, J>y Benjamin Tliorpc. — About 6ti0. CiEDMON-.] FALL OF THE EEBEL ANGELS. [First Period.— Front the 2.— THE FALL OF THE EEBEL ANGELS. The All-po-werful had Angel-tribcs, Throug-h might of hand, The holy Lord, Ten established. In whom He trusted well That they His service "Wonld foUow, Work His -(vill ; Therefore gave he them wit, And shaped them with his hands, The holy Lord. He had placed them so happily, One He had made so powerful, So mighty in his mind's thought, He let him sway over so much. Highest after himself in heaven's kingdom. He had made him so fair, So beauteous was his form in heaven, That came to him from the Lord of Hosts, He was like to the light stars. It was his to work the praise of the Lord, It was his to hold dear his joys in heaven, And to thank his Lord For the reward that He had bestowed on him in that light ; Then had He lot him long possess it ; But he turned it for himself to a v»rorsc thing, Began to raise war upon Him, Against the highest ruler of heaven, "VMio sitteth hi His holy seat. Dear was he to our Lord, But it might not be hidden from Him That His angel began To be presumptuous, Eaised himself against his Master, Sought speech of hate, "Words of pride towards him, Would not serve God, Said that his body was Light and beauteous. Fair and bright of hue : He might not find in his miad That he would God In subjection. His Lord, serve : Seemed to himself That he a power and force Had greater Than the holy God Could have Of adherents. Many words spake The angel of Presumption ; Thought, through his own power. How he for himself a stronger Scat might make. Higher in heaven : Said that him his mind impelled, That he west and north Would begin to work, Would prepare structures : Said it to him seemed doubtful That ho to God would Be a vassal. " "VVhy shall I toil ? " said he ; " To me it is no whit needful To have a superior ; I can with my hands as many Wonders work ; I have great power To form A diviner throne, A higher in heaven. Why shall I for his favor serve, ■ Bend to him in such vassalage ? I may be a god as he. Stand by mo strong associates, ■\\Tio will not fail me iu the strife. Heroes stern of mood. They have chosen me for chief, Eenowned warriors ! With such may one devise counsel, With such capture his adherents ; They arc my zealous friends. Faithful in their thoughts ; I may be their chieftain, Sway in this realm : Thus to me it seemeth not right That I in aught Need cringe To God for any good ; I will no longer be his vassal." When the All-powerful it All had heard. That his angel devised Great presumption To raise up against his Master, And spake proud words Foolishly against his Lord, Then must he expiate the deed, Share the work of war. And for his punishment must have Of all deadly ills the greatest. So doth every man Who against his Lord Deviseth to war. With crime against the great Euler. Then was the Mighty angry, The highest Euler of heaven Hurled him from the lofty seat ; Hate had he gained at his Lord, His favor he had lost. Incensed with him was the Good in his mmd. Therefore must he seek the gulf Of hard hell-torment. For that he had warred \vith heaven's Euler. He rejected him then from his favor, And cast him into hell. Into the deep parts, "Where he became a devil : The fiend with aU his comrades Fell then from heaven above. Through as long as three nights and days, The angels from heaven into heU ; And them all the Lord transformed to devils, Because they his deed and word Would not revere ; Therefore them in a worse light, Under the earth beneath, i earliest Times to 1400.] SATAN'S SPEECH. [C^dmo:;. 1 Almighty God His dire punishment. | : Had placed triumpliles3 Then spake he the words : — 1 1 In tho Hwart hell ; " This narrow place is most nnliko ' There thcj' have at even, That other that we ere knew, 1 Immeasurably long', High in heaven's kingdom, . \ Each of all tho fiends, Wliich m}' Master bestowed on mo, j A renewal of lii-e ; Though wo it, for the All-powerful, j Then cometh ere dawn May not possess. ! Tho eastern wind, Must cede our realm. j Frost bitter cold. Yet hath he not done rightly, Ever fire or dai-t ; That he hath struck us down Some hard tonnont To the fiery abyss They must have, Of the hot hcU, It was wroujrht for them in punishment, Bereft us of heaven's kingdom. Their world (life) was changed : Hath it decreed For their sinful course ^Vith mankind He filled hell witli tho apostates. To people. The angels continued to hold That of sorrows is to mc the greatest, Tho heights of heaven's kingdom, That Adam shall, Those who ero God's pleasure executed; "WTio of earth was wrought, The others lay fiends in the fire, My strong WTio ere had had so much Seat possess ; Strife with their liider : Be to him in delight Torment they suft'cr, And we endiu-e this torment, — Burning heat intense, Misery in this hell. In midst of hell Oh ! had I power of my hands. Fire and broad flames ; And might one season So also the bitter reeks, Be without, Smoke and darkness, Be one winter's space. For that they the service Then with this host I Of God neglected, But around me lie » Them their folly deceived ; Iron bonds ; The angel's pride Presseth this cord of chain, — They would not the AU-powerful's I am powerless ! "Word revere, Me have so hard They had great torment : The clasps of hell. Then were they fallen So firmlj' gi-asped ! : To the fiery abyss. Here is a vast fii-e Into the hot hell, Above and underneath. Through frenzy Never did I see And through pride ; A loathier landskip ; Tliey sought another land. The flame abatcth not ; That was void of light Hot over hell. ^Vnd was full of flume, Me hath the clasping of these rings, A great receptacle of firo. This hard-polished band. Ca'dmon, bi/ BeTijamin Tlioiyc. — About 660. Impeded in my course, Debarred me from my way ; My feet are bound. My hands manacled ; Of these hell-doors aro 3.— SATAN'S SPEECH. Satan harangued, The ways obstructed, Sorrowing spake. So that with aught I cannot He who hell henceforth From these limb-bonds escape ; Should rule. About mo lie Govern the abj-ss. Of hard iron He was erst Gods angel, Forged with heat. Fair in heaven, Hugo gratings. Until him his niind urged. AVith which mc God And his jn-ido Hath fastened by tho neck. Most of all, Thus perceive I that he knowcth my mind, That he would not And that know also The Lord of host's The Lord of hosts. Word revere. That should us, through Adam, Boiled within him Evil befall His thought about his heart, About the realm of heaven. Hot was without him "Where I had power of my hands. C^DMOX.] THE TEMPTATION OF EVE. [First Period. — From the Biit we now suffer chastisement in hoU, ■UTiicli is darkness and heat, — Grim, bottomless ; God hath us himself Swept into these swart mists, Thus he cannot us accuse of any sin That we against him in the land framed evil ; Yet hath he deprived us of the light, Cast us into the greatest of all torments : AVe may not for this execute vengeance, Eeward him with aught of hostility, Because ho hath bereft us of the light. He hath now devised a world "Where he hath wrought man After his own likeness, "With whom he will re-people The kingdom of heaven with pure souls ; Therefore must we strive zealously That we on Adam, if we ever may. And likewise on his offspring, our wrongs repair, Corrupt him there in his wUl, If we may it ra auy way de\-ise. Kow I have no confidence farther iu this bright state, That which he seems long destined to enjoy. That bliss with his angel's power. "\Ye cannot that ever obtain. That we the mighty God's mind weaken ; Let us avert it now from the children of men, That heavenly kingdom, now we may not have it ; Let us so do that they forfeit his favour, That they pervert that which he ■\vith his word commanded. Then with them wUl he be wroth in mind, Will cast them from his favor ; Then shall they seek this heU, And these grim depths ; Then may we them have to ourselves as vassals The children of men in this fast durance. Begin we now about the vi^arfare to con- sult : — If to any follower I Princely treasures Gave of old, "While we in that good realm Happy sat, And in our seats had sway. Then me he never, at time more precious, Could with recompense My gift repay ; If in return for it he would He stood by the mast. There was a treasure, Won from afar. Laden on board. Ne'er did I hear Of a vessel appointed Better for battle. With weapons of war. And waistcoats of wool. And axes and swords. Modernized by W. Taylor. — About 900. lo.— .VN OLD IMAN'S SORROW. Careful, sorrowing. He seoth in his son's bower The wine-hall deserted. The resort of the wind noiseless. The knight slecpcth ; The warrior, in darkness. There is not there Anonymous.] GOOD NIGHT. [First Period. — From the ~1 Isoiso of the harp, Joj' in the dw filings, As there was before. Then dcparteth he into songs, Singeth a lay of sorrow, One after one ; — All seemed to him too wide, The plains and the dwelling-place. Modernized l»j John M. Kcmhle. — About 900. II.— GOOD NIGHT. The night-helm grew dusky, Dark over the vassals ; The court all rose, The mingled-haired Old Scylding Would visit his bed ; The Ge^t wished the Renowned warrior to rest Immeasurably well. Soon him the foreigner. Weary of his journoj', The hall-thane guided forth, "Who, after a fitting maimer, Provided all that The thane needed, "Whatsoever that day The sailors over the deep Should have. The magnanimous warrior rested. The house rose aloft, Cars-ed and variegated with gold ; The stranger slept therein "Until the pale raven, Blithe of heart, Announced the joy of heaven, The bright sun, to be come. Modernized hy John M. Kenible. — Ahout 900. 12.— SUMMEE IS I-CUMEN IN.* Summer is i-cumen in, Llude sing cuccu ; Groweth sed, and bloweth med. And springth the wde nu. Sing cuccu, cuccu. Awe bleteth after lomb, Lhouth after caluo cu ; Bulluc sterteth. bucke vcrteth ; Murie sing cuccu, Cuccu, cuccu. Wei singes thu cuccu, Ne smk thu nauer nu ; Sing cuccu nu, Sing cuccu. About 900. • This 19 the most ancient English song that appears in oar manuscripts with the musical notes annexed. The music is of that species of composition which is called Canon in the L'yiisort, and i8 suppoaed to be of the fifteenth century. — Waeios's " Ilistory of English Poetry." The Song of Summer. Summer is a coming in, Loud sing, cuckow ; Groweth seed, and bloweth mead. And Hpringeth the wood now, Sing, cuckow, cuckow. Ewe bleateth after lamb, Loweth calf after cow, Bullock starteth, buck departeth. Merry sing, cuckow, Cuckow, cuckow. Well singeth the cuckow. Nor cease to sing now ; Sing cuckow, now, Sing cuckow. Modernized hy Warton, — Ahoxd 1785. 13.— THE MUSTER FOE THE FIRST CRUSADE. A good pope was thilk time at Rome, that hecht Urban, That preached of the creyseric, and creyscd mony man. Therefore he send preachers through all Christendom, And himself a-this-sido the mounts and to France come ; And preached so fast, and with so great wisdom, That about in each lond the cross fast mo nome. * In the year of grace a thousand and sixteen. This gi'eat creyserie began, that long was i-seen. Of so much folk nymo the cross, no to the holy land go, Me ne see no time before, ne suth nathcmo. For self women ne beloved, that tlicy ne wend thither fast, Ne young folk [that] feeble were, the while the voyage y-last. So that Robert Curthoso thitherward his heart cast, And, among other good knights, no thought not be the last. He wends hero to Englond for the creyserie. And laid William his brother to wed Nor- mandy, And borrowed of him thereon an hundred thousand mark. To wend with to the holy lond, and that was somedcal stark. * * The Earl Robert of Flanders mid him wond also, And Eustace Earl of Boulogne, and mony good knight thereto. There wend the Duke Geoffrey, and the Earl Baldwin there. And the other Baldwin also, that noble men were. And kings ayth all three of the holy lond. The Earl Stephen do Elois wend eke, that great power had on hond, earliest Times to 1400.] WHAT IS HEAVEN ? [ElCIIAED iloLLE. And liobert's f-istcr Curtho-io cppouscd had to wive. There wend j-ot other knights, tho best that were alive ; As the Earl of St Giles, tho good Raymond, And Niel tho kincr's brother of Franco, and the Earl Beanmond, And Tancred his nephew, and tho bishop also Of Podys, and Sir Hugh tho groat earl thereto ; And folk also without talc, of all this west end Of Englond and of Franco, thitherward gan wend. Of Normandj-, of Denmark, of Norway, of Britain, Of Wales and of Ireland, of Gascony and of Spain, Oi Provence and of Saxony, and of Alemain, Of Seotlond and of Greece, of Home and Aquitain. * * Rolert of Ghitcestcr.—Abov.t 12C0. 14.— THE INTERVIEW OF VORTIGERN WITH ROWEX. Hengist that day did his might. That all were glad, kin? and knight. And as they wcro best in glading, And well cup-shotten, knight and king, Of chamber Rowenon so gent. Before the king in hall she went. A cup with v;ine she had in hand, And her attire was well farand. Before the king on knee set. And in her language she him gret ' Laverd king, wassail ! ' said she. The king asked, What should be. On that language tho king ne couth A knight her language Icrid in youth, Bregh hight that knight, born Breton, That lerid the language of Saxon. This Bregh was the latimer. What she said told Vortiger. ' Sir,' Bregh said, ' Rowen you greets, And king calls and lord you leot^. This is their custom and tlioir gest, "When they are at tho ale or feast, Hk man that loves where him think. Shall say Wassail ! and to him drink. He that bids shall say, Wassail ! The tother shall say again, DriukJtail ! Tliat says Wassail drinks of the cup, Kissing his fellow he gives it up. Drinkhail he says, and drinks thereof, Kissing him in bourd and skof.' The king said, as tho knight gan ken, ' Drinkhail,' smiling on Rowenen. Rowen drank as her list. And gave the king, sjTie him kissed. There was the first wassail in dede, And that first of fame gaod. Of that wassail men told great tale, And wassail when they were at ale, And drinkhail to them that drank, Thus was wassail ta'cn to thank. Fell sithcs that maidin ying Wassailed and kissed the king. Of Ijody sho was right avcnant. Of fair colour \vith sweet semblant. Her attire full well it seemed, Jlervclik tl;e king she quoomcd. Of our measure was he glad. For of that maidin he wax all mad. Drunkenness the fiend wrought, Of that pacn was all his thought. A mischance that time him led. He asked that paen for to wed. Hengist would not draw o lite, Bot granted him all so tite. And Hors his brother consented soon. Her friends said, it were to done. They asked the king to give her Kent, In dowcry to take of rent. Upon that maidin his heart was cast ; That they asked the king made fast. I ween the king took her that day. And wedded her on paen"s laj'. Robert Be Brunnc. — About 1320. 15.— PRAISE OF GOOD WOilEX. Nothing is to man so dear As woman's love in good manner. A good woman is man's bliss, Wliere her love right and stedfast is. Th.cre is no solace under heaven, Of all that a man may ncven. That should a man so much glow. As a good woman that lovcth true : Ne dearer is none in God's liurd. Than a chaste woman with lovely wurd. EobcH Be Brunne.— About 1320. 16.— V.'HAT IS HEAVEN? Thcr is Ij-f withoute ony deth. And ther is youtho ^vithout ony elde ; And ther is alio manner welthe to weldo : And ther is rest without ony travaUle ; And ther is pees without ony strife. And ther is alio manner lykinge of lyf : — And ther is bright somer ever to so. And ther is nevero v.'yntcr in that countric : — And ther is more worshipo and honour, Then evere hade kj-nge other emperour. And thcr is grcto meloilio of aungeles songe, And ther is preysing hem amongo. And ther is alio manner frendshipe thatmay be, And ther is evere perfect love and charite ; .tind ther is wisdom without folye, And ther is honestc without viloneyc. Al these a man may joycs of hevene call : Ac j-utte the most soverc\-n joyo of alio Is the sighte of Goddes bright face. In wham restcth alle manere grace. Richard RoUc.— About 1350. EOBEKT LONGLANDE.] MEECY AND TEUTH. [First Period. — From the 17.— MEECY AWD TEUTH. Out of the west coast, a wench, as me thought, Came walking in the way, to hell-ward she looked ; Mercy hight that maid, a meek thing withal, A full benign burd, and buxom of speech ; Her sister, as it seemed, came soothly walking. Even out of the east, and westward she looked, A full comely creature, Tnith she hight. For the virtue that her followed afeard was she never. T\Tien these maidens mette, Mercy and Truth, Either axed other of this great wonder, Of the din and of the darkness, &c. Robert Longlande. — About 1350. 18.— COVETOUSXESS. And then came Covetise, can I him not de- scrive, So hungrily and hollow Sir Herrey him looked ; He was beetle-browed, and babber-lipped also, With two bleared een as a blind hag, And as a leathern purse loUed his cheeks, WeU syder than his chin, they shriveled for eld : And as a bondman of his bacon his beard was bedriveUed, "With an hood on his head andalousyhat above. And in a tawny tabard of twelve winter age, Al so-tom and baudy, and full of lice creeping ; But if that a louse could have loupen the better, She should not have walked on the welt, it was so threadbare. Robert LonglanOx. — About 1350. 19.— THE CANTEEBUEY TALES. THE PROLOGUE. Whanne that April with his shoures sote The droughte of March hath perced to the rote, And bathed every veine in swiche licour, Of whiche vertue engendred is the flour ; Whan Zephirus eke with his sote brethe Enspired hath in every holt and hetho The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne Hath in the Eam his halfe cours jTronne, And smale foules maken melodic, That slepen aUe night with open eye, So priketh hem natTire in hir corages ; Than longen folk to gon on pilgrimages. And palmeres for to seken strange strondes, To serve halwes couthe in sondry londes ; And specially, from every shire's endo Of Englelond, to Canterbiiry they weude. The holy Vjlisful martyr for to seke, That hem hath holpen, whan that they were seke. Befelle, that, in that seson on a day, In Southwerk at the Tabard as I lay, Eedy to wenden on my X)ilgrimage To Canterbury with dcvoute corago, At night was come into that hostelrie Wei nine and twenty in a compagnie Of sondry folk, by aventure yfalle In felawship, and pilgrimes were they alio. That toward Canterbury woldca ride. The chambres and the stables weren ■wide, And wel we weren esed atte beste. And shortly, whan the sonnewas gon to resto, So hadde I spoken with hem everich on, That I was of hir felawship anon, And made forword erly for to rise. To take oure way ther as I j^ou devise. But natheles, while I have time and space, Or that I forther in this tale pace, Me thinketh it accordant to reson, To teUen you aUe the condition Of eche of hem, so as it semed me, And vv'hiche they weren, and of what degre ; And eke in what araie that they were inno : And at a knight than wol I firste beginne. A Knight ther was, and that a worthy man, That fro the time that he firste began To riden out, he loved chevalrie, Trouthe and honour, fredom and curtesie. Ful worthy was he in his lordes werre, And therto hadde he ridden, no man ferre, As wel in Cristendom as in Hethenesse, And ever honoured for his worthinesse. At Alisandre he was whan it v^as wonne. Ful often time he hadde the bord begonne Aboven alle nations in Pruce. In Lettowe hadde he reysed, and in Euce, No cristen man so ofte of his degre. In Gernade at the siege eke hadde he be Of Algesir, and ridden in Belmarie. At Leyes was he, and at Satalie, Whan they were wonne ; and in the Grete see At many a noble armee hadde he be. An mortal bataillcs hadde he ben fiftene. And foughten for our faith at Tramissene In Ustes thries, and ay slain his fo. This ilke worthy knight hadde ben also Somtime with the lord of Palatie, Agen another hethen in Turkie : And evermore he hadde a sovereine pris. And though that he was worthy he was \viso, And of his port as meke as is a maydo. He never yet no vilanie ne sayde In alle his Uf , unto no manere wight. He was a veray parfit gentil knight. But for to tellen you of his araie. His hors was good, but he ne was not gaie. Of fustian he wered a gipon, Alle besmotred with his habergeon. For he was late ycome fro his vivige, And wentc for to don his pilgi'image. With him ther was his sone a yonge Squier, A lover, and a lusty bachelor. With lockes cruU as they were laide in presse. Of twenty yere of age he was I gesse. Of his stature he was of even lengthe, And wonderly deliver, and grete of strengthe. And he hadde be somtime in chevachie. In Flaundres, in Artois, and in Picardie, And borne him wel, as of so litel space, In hope to stonden in his ladies grace. Embrouded was he, as it were a mede Alle ful of freshe floures, white and rede. earliest Times to 1400.] THE CANTEBBUEY TALES. [Chaucee. Sin^ng he was, or floyting all the day, Ho waH as froshe as is the moneth of May. Short was his gounc, with sieves lon>,' and wide. Wcl coudo ho sitte on horn, and fayro rido. He coudo songes make, and well cndito, Juste and eke dance, and wcl pourtraie and write. So hoto ho loved, that by nightcrtale. He slop no more than doth the nij,ditingale. Curtois he was, lowly, and scrvisable, And carf before his fader at the table. A Yeman haddo ho, and scrvantes no mo At that time, for him luste to ride so ; And he was cladde in coto and hode of grcno A shcfe of peacock arwes bright and keno Under his belt ho bare ful thriftily. Wcl coudo ho dresse his takel yemanly : His arwes drou])cd not with fethcres lowe. And in his bond ho bare a mighty bowe. A not-hed haddo ho, with a broune visage. Of wood-craft coude he wel alio the usage. Upon liis arme he bare a gaio bracer. And by his side a sword and a bokeler, And on that other side a gaio daggere, llarneised wel, and shar|ie as point of sperc : A Cristofrc on his breste of silver sheno. An homo he bare, the baudrik was of grene. A forster vias he sothely as I gesso. Thcr was also a Nonne, a Peioresse, That of hire smiling was ful simple and coy ; Hire gretest othe n'as but by Seint Eloy ; And she was cleped madamo Eglontine. Ful wel she sange the service devine, Entuned in hire nose ful swetely ; And Frenche she spake ful fajTO and fetisly, After the scole of Stratford atte bowe, I'or Frenche of Paris was to hire unknowe. At mete was she wel ytaughte withalle ; She letto no morsel from hire lippes falle, No wotte hire fingres in hire sauce dope. "Wel coude she carie a morsel, and wel kepe, Thatte no drope ne fell upon hire brest. In curtesie was sette fid mocho hire lest. Hire over lippo wiped she so clone. That in hire cuppo was no fcrthing seno Of grcse, whan she dronken haddc hire draught. Ful semely after hire mete she raught. And sikerly she was of groto disport, And ful plesant, and amiable of port. And pcined hire to contrefeten chore Of court, and ben estatelich of manere, And to ben holden digne of reverence. But for to spoken of hire conscience, She was so charitaldo and so pitous, She wolde wepe if that she saw a mous Caughte in a trappe, if it were dod or bledde. Of smalo houndes hadde she, that she fedde With rested flesh, and milk, and wastcl brede. But sore wept she if on of hem were dodo. Or if men smote it with a ycrde snierte : And all was conscience and tondre hertc. Fill semoly hire wimple ypinchcd was ; Hire noso trotis ; lior eyen grey as glas ; Hiro mouth f nl smalo. and Iherto soft and red ; But sikerly she hadde a fayro forehed. It was almost a spanne bi-ode I trowe ; For hardily she was not undergrowe. Ful fetiso was hire cloke, as I was ware. Of smale corall aboute hire arm nhe Ijaro A pair of bodes, gauded all with grene ; And thereon hong a broche of gold ful shenc, On whiche was first ywriten a crouned A, And after, A inor vincit otnnia. Another Nonne also with hire hadde she That was hire chappelline, and Pkeestes thrc. A Monk ther was, a fayre for the maistrie, An out-rider, that loved venerie ; A manly man, to ben an aVjbot aV)le. Ful many a deinte hors hadde he in stable : And whan he rode, men mighte his bridel here Gingeling in a whistling wind as clere. And eke as loudo, as doth the chapell belle, Ther as this lord was keper of the celle. The reule of seint Maure and of seint Beneit, Because that it was olde and sondele streit, This ilko monk lotto olde thinges pace. And held after the newe world the trace, He yave not of the text a pulled hen. That saith, that hunters ben not holy men ; No that a monk, whan he is rekkeles, Is like to a fish that is waterles ; This is to saj', a monk out of his cloistrc. This ilke text held he not worth an oistrc. And I say his opinion was good. What shulde he studie, and make himselvcn wood, Upon a book in cloistre alway to pore, Or swinken with his hondes, and laboure. As Austin bit ? how shal the world be ser^-ed ? Let Austin have his swink to him reserved. Therefore he was a prickasoure a right : Grcihoundes he hadde as swift as foul of flight: Of pricking and of hunting for the hare Was all his lust, for no cost wolde he spare. I saw his sieves purfiled at the hond With gi-is, and that the finest of the lond. And for to fasten his hood under his chinno, He hadde of gold j-wrought a curious pinne : A love-knotte in the greter ende ther was. His hod was balled, and shone as any glas, And eke his face, as it hadde ben anoint. He was a lord fid fat and in good jioint. His eycn stepe, and rolling in his hod, That stemed as a forneis of a led. His bootes souple, his hors in gret estat, Now certainly he was a fayre prelat. He was not pale as a foqjined gost. A fat swan loved he best of any rost. His palfrey was as broune as is a bcry. A Frere ther was, a wanton and a mery, A Limitour, a ful solcmpuo man. In all the ordi-es foure is non that can So moclio of dalianc!© and fayre langngc. He hadde ymade ful many a mariago Of yonge wimmen, at his owcn cost. Until his ordre he was a noble post. Fid wel beloved, and familior was he With frankeleins over all in his contrco, Chaucer.] THE CATERBURY TALES. [FiK9T Period. — From the And eke with worthy wimmen of the toiui : For he had power of confession, As saide himsclfe, more than a curat, For of his ordre ho was licentiat. Ful swetely herde he confession, And plesant was his absolution. He was an esy man to give penance, Ther as he wiste to han a good pitance : For unto a poiu-e ordre for to give Is signe that a man is well yshrivo. For if he gave, he dorste make avant, He wiste that a man was repentant. For many a man so hardo is of his herte, He may not wepo although him sore smerto. Therefore in stede of weping and praieres, Men mote give silver to the poure freres. His tippet was a,y farsed ful of knives, And pinnes, for to given fayre wives. And ccrtaiulj- he hadde a mery note. "Wei coude he singe and plaien on a rote. Of yeddinges he bare utterly the pris. His nekke was white as the flour de lis. Thereto he strong was as a champioun, And Icnew wel the tavernes in every toun, And every hosteler and gay tapstero, Better than a lazar or a beggere. For unto swiche a worthy man as lie Accordeth nought, as by his faciilte. To haven with sike lazars acquaintance. It is not honest, it may not avance, As for to dclen with no swiche pouraille, But all with riche, and sellers of vitaille. And over all, ther as profit shuld arise, Curteis he was, and lowly of servise. Ther n'as no man no wlier so vertuous. He was the beste begger in all his hous : And gave a certaine ferme for the grant, Non of his brethren came in his haunt. For though a widdewe hadde but a shoo, (So plesant was his In irrincipio) Yet wold he have a ferthing or he went. His pourchas was wel better than las rent. And rage he coude as it hadde ben a whelp. In lovedayes, ther coude he mochel help. For ther was ho nat like a cloistererc, With thredbaro cope, as is a poure scolcre. But he was like a maister or a pope. Of double worsted was his semicope, That round was as a belle out of the prcsse. Somwhat he lisped for his wantonnesse, To make his English swete upon his tonge ; And in his harjoing, whan that he hadde songo, His eyen twinkeled in his hed aright. As don the sterres in a frosty night. This worthy limitour vv'as cleped Huberd. A Marchant was ther with a forked herd. In mottelee, and highe on hors he sat, And on his hed a Flaundrish bever hat. His bootes elapsed fayre and fetisly. His resons spake he ful solempnely, Souning alway the encrese of his winning. He wold the see were kept for any thing Bet^vixen Middleburgh and Orewell. Wel coud he in eschanges sheldes sclle. This worthy man ful wel his wit bcsette ; Ther wiste no wight that he was in dette, So stedefastly didde he his governance. With his bargeines, and with his chevisancc. Forsothe he was a worthy man withalle. But soth to sayn, I n'ot how men him callc. A Clerk ther was of Oxenfordo also. That unto logiko hadde long ygo. As lene was his hors as is a rake, And he was not right fat, I undertake ; But loked holwe, and therto soberlj'. Ful thredbare was his overest courtepy, For he hadde goten him j'ct no benefice, Ne was nought worldly to have an office. For him was lever han at his beddes hed Twenty bokes clothed in blake or red, Of Aristotle, and his philosophic. Than robes riche, or fidel, or sautrie. But all be that ho was a phdosophre, Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofro But all that he might of his frcndes hento, On bokes and on lerning he it spente. And besdy gan for the soules praie Of hem, that yave him whorwith to scolaio. Of studie toko he mosto cure and hede. Not a word spake he more than was node ; And that was said in forme and reverence. And short and quike, and ful of high sentence. Souning in moral vortue was his speche, And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly techo. A Sergeant or the Lawe ware and v/isc. That often hadde ybon at the paruis, Ther was also, ful riche of excellence. Discrete he was, and of gret reverence : He semed swiche, his wordes were so wise. Justice he was ful often in assise, By patent, and by pleine commissioun ; For his science, and for his high renoun. Of fees and robes had he many on. So grete a pourchasour was no wher non. All was fee simple to liim in effect, His pourchasing might not ben in suspect. No wher so besy a man as he ther n'as. And yet he semetl besier than he was. In termes hadde he cas and domes alio, That fro the time of king WiU. wercn lalle. Thereto he coude cndite, and make a thing, Tlier coude no wight pinche at his writing. And every statute coude he plaine by rote. He rode but homely in a medlee cote. Girt with a seint of sUk, with barres smale Of his array tell I no lengcr tale. A Frankelein was in this compagnie •- "V^Hiite was his herd, as is the dayesie. Of his eomj)lexion ho was sanguin. Wel loved he by the morwe a sop in win. To liven in delit was ever his wone. For he was Epicure's owen sone. That held opinion, that plein delit Was veraily felicite parfite. An housholder, and that a grete was he ; Seint Julian he was in his contrec. His brede, his ale, was alway after on ; A better envyned man was no wher non. earliest Times to 1400.] THE CANTEEBUEY TALES. [Chadceh. Withouten biiko moto never was his hous, Of fish and flesh, and that so jdenteous, It snowed in his hous of meto and drinke, Of alio deintecs that men coud of thiukc. After the sondry scsons of the j'cre, So changed ho his meto and his spupero. Fill many a fat partrich hiulde he in mewo, And many a bremc, and many a luce in stewc. Wo was his coke, but if his sauce were Poinant and sharpe, and rcdy all his gcrc. His table dormant in his hallo alway Stodo redy covered alio the longe day. At sessions ther was ho lord and su-e. Ful often time he was knijrht of the shii"c. An anclaco and a gipciere all of silk, Heng at his girdel, white as morwo mUk. A shcrevc haddc he ben, and a contour. Was no wher swichc a worthy vavasour. An Haberdasher, and a Carpenter, A Weube, a Deyer, and a Tapiseu, Wore alio yclothed in o livore, Of a solempne and grctc fraternite. Ful frosho and newe hir gcre ypikcd was. Hir knives were ychaped not with bras, But all with silver, wTought fill clone and wcl, Hir girdeles and hir pouches overj- del. Wcl semed echo of hem a fayre bnrgeis, To sitten in a gild hallo, on the dois. Evcrich for the ■wisdom that he can. Was shapclieh for to ben an alderman. For catel haddcn they ynough and rent. And cko hir wives wolde it wel assent : And elles certainly they were to Vdamo. It is ful fayrc to ben ycleped madame, And for to gon to vigiles all before, And have a mantel rcallich ybore. A Coke they hadden with hem for the nones, To boil tho chikenes and the mario bones. And iioudre marchant, tart and galingale. Wel coudo he knowe a draught of London ale. Ho coudo roste, and setlie, and broile, and fric, Maken mortrcwcs, and wel bake a pic. But grot harm was it, as it thonghte me, That on his shinno a mormal hadde ho. For blauc manger that made ho with tho best. A Shipman was ther, woned for by West ; i For ought I wote, ho was of Dertemouth. Ho rode upon a rouncio, as he coiithe. All in a goune of fidding to tho knee. A dagger hanging by a las hadde heo About his nckke under his arm adoun. Tho hote sommerhaddemadehis howc al broun. And certainlj' he was a good felaw. Fill many a draught of win he hadde draw From Burdeux ward, while that the chapmen slepc. Of nice conscience toko he no kope. If that he faught, and hadde the higher hand. By water he sent hom homo to every land. But of his craft to reken wel his tides, His stromes and his sti-andes him besides. His herberwe, his mono, and his lodemanage, Ther was non swiche. from Hidl unto Cartage. Hardy ho was, and wise, I undertake : "With many a tempest hady his free assent, Ho saido ; " Sithen I shal bcg-in this game, AVhat, wolcomo bo the cutto a GoiWcs namo. Now lot us rido, and herkcnoth what I say." And with tliat word wo ridcn forth our way ; And ho bej,'au with ri^dit a mcry chcro, His talc anon, and saidc as yo shul hero. Chaucer.— Abotit 1380. 20.— THE SQUIEEES TALE. At Sarra, in tho lond of Tartaric, Thcr dwelt a kinj^ that weiTcied Eussic, Thurgh wliich thcr died many a doughty man : This noble king was doped CambuRcan, ^\^uch in his time was of so gret ronoun, That thor n'as no whcr in no regioun, So excellent a lord in alio thing : Him lacked nought that longoth to a king, As of the socto of which that he was borne. He kept his lay to which ho was ysworno, And thorto ho was hardy, wiso, and richc, And pitous and just, and alway ylicho, Trowo of his word, bcnigno and honourable ; Of his corage as any centre stable ; Yong, fresh, and strong, in aimes desirous, As any bachelor of all his hous. A fairo person ho was, and fortunate, And kept alway so wcl real cstat, That ther n'as no whcr swicho another man. This noble king, this Tartro Cambuscan, Haddo two sones by Elfcta his wif, Of which the oldest sono highto Algarsif, That other v/as yclcpcd Camballo. A doughter had this worthy king also. That yongest was, and hightc Canaco : But for to tellcn you all hire beautcc. It lith not in my tongo, ne in my conning, I dare not undertake so high a thing : Min English oko is unsufficient. It mustc ben a Eothor excellent, That coude his colours longing for that art, If ho shuld hire doscriven ony part : I am not swiche, I moto spoke as I can. And so befell, that whan this Cambuscan Hath twenty winter borne his diadcme, As ho was wont fro ycro to j'cre I dome, Ho let tho festo of his nativitoo Don crion, thurghout SaiTa his citeo. The last Idus of March, after tho yero. Phcbus the sonno fill jolif was and cloro, For he was nigh his exaltation In Martes face, and in his mansion In Aries, the coloriko hoto signo : Fill lusty was the wether and bcnigno For which tho foulos again tho sonno shcno, What for tho seson auo the yongo grone, Fid loiide songen hir afTcctions : Hom semed han gotten hem protections Again tho swerd of winter kcno and cold. This Cambuscan, of which I have you told, In real vestimonts, sit on his dois With diadcme, ful high in his paleis ; And liolte his feste solempne and so richc, That in this world no was ther non it licho, Of which if I shal toUen all the array, Than wold it occupio a fiomers day ; And eke it nedeth not for to deviso At every cours tho order of hir 6cr\'ice. I wol not tellen of hir strange sewos, No of hir swannes, no hir heronscwes. Eko in that lond, as tellen knightes old, Ther is som moto that is ful deintce hold. That in this lond men reecho of it ful smal : Ther n'is no man that may reporten al. I wol not taricn you, for it is prime, And for it is no fruit, but losse of time. Unto mj' purpose I wol have recours. And so befell that after tho thriddo cours While that this king sit thus in his nobley, Herldng his ministralles hir thingos ploy Beforne him at his bord dcliciously. In at the halle dore al sodenly Ther came a knight upon a stedo of bras, And in his bond a brod miiTour of glas ; Upon his thombo ho had of gold a ring. And by his side a naked swerdo hanging : And up ho ridcth to the liighe bord. In all the halle no was ther spoke a word. For mervaillo of this knight ; him to behold Ful besily they waitcn yong and old. This strange knight that come thus sodonly Al armed save his bed ful ricliel}', Salueth Icing and queue, and lordes alio By order, as they saten in the hallo. With so high reverence and observance, As wel in spoche as in his contenance, That Gawain \vith his oldo curtesie, Though he were come agon out of Faerie, Ne coudo him not amendon \vith a word. And after this, bcforn the highe bord He with a manly voJs sayd his me.-jsage, After the forme used in his langago, Withouten vice of siUablo or of letter. And for his tale shuldo seme tho bettor, Accordant to his wordcs was his chore, As tccheth art of specho hem that it Icrc. Al bo it that I cannot souue his stile, Ne cannot climbon over so high a stile, Y'et say I this, as to comun cntcnt. Thus much amounteth all that ever he ment, If it so be that I have it in mind. Ho sayd ; " The Idngof Arabic and of Indo, My liege lord, on this solempne day Salueth you as ho best can and may. And sendoth you in honour of your festo By mc, that am al redy at your hcste. This stode of bras, that esily and wel Can in tho space of a day naturel, (This is to sajTi, in fom* and twenty houres) "\Micr &o you list, in drought or cllos shourcs, Boron your body into every phvcc. To which your hcrto willcth for to paco, Withouten wemmo of you. thurgh foulc or f aire. Or if you list to flcen as high in tlio aire, As doth an cgle, whan him list to sore. This same stedo shal bore you evermoro Withouten harrao, till ye be ther you lest, (Though that ye slo]icn on his back or rest And turno again, with writhing of a pin. Ho that it Wought, ho coude many a gin ; Chaucer.] THE CANTERBUEY TALES. [First Period. — From the He waited many a constellation, Or he had don this operation. And knew ful many a sele and many a bond. " This mirroivr eke, that I have in min hond, Hath swiche a migfht, that men may in it see, "\Mian ther shal falle ony adversitee "Unto your rejnie, or to your.self also, And openly, who is your frend or fo. And over all this, if any ladj- bright Hath set hire herte on anj^ maner wight. If he be false, she shal his trcson see. His newe love, and aU. his subtUtee So openl\% that ther shal nothing hide. " AVlierfore again this lusty somer tide This mirrour and this ring, that ye may se, He hath sent to my lady Canace, Your excellente doughter that is here. " The vertue of tliis ring, if ye wol bere, Is this, that if hire list it for to were Upon hire thombe, or in hire purse it here, Ther is no foule that fieeth under heven, That she ne shal wel understond his steven, And know his mening openlj^ and plaine, And answere him in his langage again : And every gras that groweth upon rote She shal eke know, and whom it wol do bote, All be his woundes never so depe and wide. "This naked swerd, thathangeth bymyside, Swiche vertue hath, that what man that it smite, Thurghout his armure it wol kervc and bite, "Were it as thicke as is a braunched oke : And what man that is wounded with the stroke Shal never be hole, t'l that you list of grace To stroken him \vith the platte in thilke jjlaco Ther he is hurt ; this is as much to sain, Ye moten with the platte swerd again Stroken him in the wound, and it wol close. This is the veray soth withouten glose. It failleth not, while it is in your hold." And whan this knight hath thus his tale told, He rideth out of hallo, and doun he light : His stede, which that shone as sonne bright, Stant in the court as stiUe as any ston. This knight is to his chambre ladde anon, And is unarmed, and to the mete ysette. Thise presents ben ful richelich yfette, This is to sain, the swerd and the mirrour. And borne anon into the highe tour. With certaia officers ordained therfore ; And unto Canace the ring is bore Solempnely, ther she sat at the table ; But sikerly, withouten any fable. The hors of bras, that may not be remued ; It stant, as were to the ground yglued ; Ther may no man out of the place it drive For non engine, of windas, or polive : And cause why, for they con not the craft, And therfore in the place they han it laft. Til that the knight hath taught hem the mancre To voiden him, as ye shal after here. Gret was the prnes that swarmed to and fro To gauren on this hors that stondeth so : For it so high was, and so brod and long. So wel proportioned for to be strong, Right as it were a stede of Luml)ardie ; Therwith so horsly, and so quik of eye, As it a gentil Poileis courser were : For certes, fro his tayl unto his ere Nature ne art ne coud him not amend In no degree, as all the peple wend. But evermore hir moste wonder was, How that it coude gon, and was of bras ; It was of faerie, as the peple semed. Diverse folk diversely han domed ; As manj' heds, as many wittes ben. They murmiu-cd, as doth a swarme of been, And maden skilles after liir fantasies, Rehorsing of the olde poetries. And sayd it was ylike the Pegasee, The hors that hadde winges for to flee. Or elles it was the Grekes hors Sinon, That broughte Troye to destruction. As men moun in thise olde gestes rede. " Min herte," quodon, " is evermore in di-ede, I trow som men of armcs ben therin, That shapen hem this citee for to win : It were right good that al swiche thing were know." Another rowned to his felaw low, And sayd, " He lieth, for it is rather like An apparence ymade by som magike. As jogeloui-s plain at thise festes gi'ete." Of sondry doutes thus they jangle and trete. As lewed peple demen comunly Of thinges, that ben made more subtUly Than they can in hir lewednesse comprehende. They demen gladly to the badder ende. And som of hem wondred on the mirrour, That born was up in to the maister tour, How men mighte in it swiche thinges see. Another answered, and sayd, "Itmightwel be Naturelly by compositions Of angles, and of slie reflections ; " And saide that in Rome was swiche on. They speke of Alhazen and Vitellon, And Aristotle, that writen in hir lives Of queinte mirrours, and of prospectives, As knowen they, tJiat han hir bookes herd. And other folk han wondred on the swerd. That wolde j)ercen thurghout every thing : And fell in speche of Telephus the king. And of Achilles for his queinte spere, For he coude with it bothe hele and dero, Right in swiche wise as men may with the swerde. Of which right now ye have yourselven herd. They speken of sondry harding of mctall. And speking of medicines therwithall, And how, and whan it shuld yharded be. Which is unknow algates unto me. Tho speken they of Canacees ring, And saiden all, that swiche a wonder thing Of craft of ringes herd they never non, Save that ho Moises and king Salomon Hadden a name of conning in svdcho art. Thus sain the peple, and drawen hem apart. But nathelos som saiden that it was Wonder to maken of feme ashen glas, And yet is glas nought like ashen of feme, But for they han yknowen it so feme, Therfore ceseth hir jangling and hir wonder. As sore wondren som on cause of tlionder. ey.rlicst Times to 1400.] THE CANTERBURY TALES. [Chaccbb. On ebbo and floud, on gossomer, and on mi.st, And on all thinj»', til that the cause ia wist. Thus janj,'-l(,'n they, and demen and devise, Til that tho kinjr pran fro his bord arise. Phobus hatli loft tho anj^le meridional, And j'ct ascending was tlio beste real, Tho gentil Leon, with his Aldrian, AVlian that this Tartre king, this Cambuscan, Rose from his bord, thor as he sat fid hie : Bcforno him goth tho loudo minstralcie. Til ho come to his chanibro of imrenicnts, Thor as thej* sounden divers instruments, That it is like an hevcn for to here. Now daunoon lusty Venus children dero For in the Fish hir lady set ful hie, And lokoth on hem with a frondly ej'e. This noble Idng is set upon his trone ; This straunge knight is fet to him ful sone. And on the daunce he goth with Canace. Hero is the revell and the jolitee, That is not aVile a dull man to devise : He must han knowen love and his scrvisc, And ben a festlich man, as fresh as May, That shulde you de^nsen swicho array. Who coude tcllen you the forme of daunces So uncouth, and so frosho contcnaunces, Swacho subtil lokings and dissimulings, For dred of jalous mennes apperccivings ? No man but Laiuicelot, and he is ded. Therfore I passe over all this lustyhed, I say no more but in this jolinesse I Ictc hem, til men to the souper hem dresse. The steward bit tho spices for to hio And eke the vrin, in all this melodie ; The ushers and the squierio ben gon, The spices and the ■\v'in is come anon : They etc and drinke, and whan this had an end, Unto tho temple, as reson was, they wend : Tho service don, they soupen all l)j- day. "What nedoth j-ou rehcrsen hir array ? Echo man wot wel, that at a kinges fest Is plentee, to the most and to the lest. Ami deintees mo than ben in my knowing. At after souiier goth this noble king To seen this hors of bras, with all a route Of lordcs and of ladies him aboute. Swiche wondring was ther on this hors of bras, Tliat sin tho gret assege of Troye was, Thor as men wondred on an hors also, Ne was ther swicho a wonilring, as was tho. But finally the king asketh tho knight The vertue of this courser, and the might. And praicd him to toll his govemaunce. This hors anon gan for to trip and daunce, Wlian that the knight lai And hath conceived in his wit ariglit Tho manor and tho forme of all this thing, Ful glad and blith, this noble doughty king liSpaireth to his revel, as beforne. Tho bridel is in to the tour yl)omo. And kept among his jewels lefe and derc : The hors vanisht, I n'ot in what manero, Out of hir sight, ye get no more of me : But thus I leto in lust and jolitee This Cambuscan his lordcs festoying. Til that wol nigh the day began to spring. Paes Secunda. The norice of digestion, the slepe, Gan on hem -n-inko, and bad hem taken kepe. That mochel drinke, and labour wol have rest i And with a galping month hem all ho kest. And said, "that it was time to lie adoun, For blood was in his dominatioun : Chorisheth blood, natures frond," quod he. They thankcn him galping, bj' two V)y tlircc ; And everj' wight gan drawe him to his rest. As slepe hem bade, thej- toko it for the best. Hir dremes shul not now bo told for me ; Ful were hir hedes of fumositee. That causeth dreme, of which ther is no charge. Thej' slepen til that it was prime large, The moste part, but it were Canace ; She was ful mesurable, as women be. For of hire father had she take hire love To gon to rest, sone after it was eve ; Hire liste not appalled for to be, Nor on the morwe unfestliche for to sco ; And slept hire firste slepe. and than awoke. For swiche a joye she in hire hert« toke Both of hire queinte ring, and of hire mirrour. That twenty time she chaunged hire colour ; And in hire slope right for the impression Of hire mirrour she had a vision. ANHicrfore, or that the sonno gan up glide. She clepeth upon hire maistresso hire beside. And saide, that hire luste for to arise. Thise old women, that ben gladly wise. As is liire maistresso, answered hire anon, And said : " Madame, whider wol ye gon Thus erly ? for the folk ben all in res^" "I wol," quod she, " arisen (for mo lest No longer for to slope) and walken abonto." Hire maisti'csse clepeth women a grot route. And up they risen, wel a ten or twelve ; Up riseth frosho Canace hiroselve. As rodj' and bright, as the yonge sonno, That in tho R;im is fonrc degrees >Tonnc ; No higher was he, when she rcdy was ; And forth she walketh esily a pas, Chaucek.j THE CANTEEBURY TALES. [First PEniOD. — From tli.e Arrayed after the lusty seson soto Lightely for to playe, and walken on foto, Nongrht but with live or sixo of her nicmio ; And in a trenche forth in the park goth yho. The vapom-, which that fro the crthe glodc, Makcth the soune to seme rody and brodc : But natheles, it was so fairc a sight, That it made all hir hertcs for to light, TVhat for the seson, and the morwening-, And for the foidcs that she herdc sing. For right anon she wiste what they ment liight by hir song, and Icnew al hir entent. The knotte, why that every talc is tolde, If it bo taricd til the lust be colde Of hem, that han it lierkened after yore, The savour passcth ever lenger the more, For fulsumnesse of the prolixitee : And by that same reson thinkoth mo I shidd imto the knotto condescendc, .\jid maken of hire walking sone an endc. Amidde a tree for-dry, as white as chalk, As Canace was playing in hire walk, Ther sat a faucon over hire hed ful hie. That vnth a pitous vols so gan to crie. That all the wood resouned of hire cry, And beten had hireself so pitoasly With bothe hire -(\'inges, til the rede blood Ean cndelong the tree, ther as she stood. And ever in on alway she cried and shriglit, And with hire bek hireselven she so twight. That ther n"is tigrc, ne no cruel best, That dwelleth other in wood, or in forest. That n'olde han wept, if that he wepen coudc. For sorwe of hire, she shright alway so loude. For ther was never yet no man on live. If that he coude a faucon well doscrive. That hcrdo of swiche another of fayroncssc As wel of plumage, as of gentilcsse. Of shape, of aU that might yrekened be. A faucon peregrine semed she Of fremde lend, and ever as she stood, She swouned now and now for lack of blood. Til wel neigh is she faUen fro the tree. This faire kingcs doughtcr Canace, That on hire finger bare the queinte ring, Thurgh which she understood wel every thing That any foule may in his Icden sain. And coude answere him in his leden again. Hath understonden what this faucon seyd, A.nd wel neigh for the routhe almost she dcyd : And to the tree she goth ful hastily, And on this faucon loketh pitously, And held hire lap abrode, for wel she wist The faucon muste fallen from the t^vist "VVTian that she swouned next, forfauteoi blood. A longe while to waiten hire she stood. Til at tUfe last she spake in this manerc Unto the hauk, as ye shrJ after here. " What is the cause, if it be for to teU, That ye ben in this furial peine of hell ? " Quod Canace unto this hauk above ; " Is this for sorwe of deth, or losse of love ? For as I trow, thise be the causes two. That causen most a gcntil herte wo. Of other harme it nedeth not to spoke. For ye yourself upon yourself awrekc. Wliich prevoth wel, that other ire or drede Mote ben cnchoson of your cruel dode. Sin that I se non other wight you chace. For the love of God, as doth yourselvcn grace : Or what may be your helpe ? for west ne est Ne saw I never er now no brid ne best, That ferde ^vith himself so pitously. Ye sle me with your sorwe veraily, I have of yon so gret compassioun. For Goddcs love come fro the tree adoun ; And as I am a kingcs doughter trewe, If that I veraily the causes knewe Of your diseso, if it lay in my might, I v/old amend it, or that it were night, As wisly help mo the gret God of kind. And herbes shal I right ynongh yfind, To elen with your hurtes hastily." Tho shright this faucon yet more pitously Than ever she did, and fell to ground anon. And lith aswoune, as dcd as lith a ston. Til Canace hath in hire lappe hire take. Unto that time she gan of swoune awake : And after that she out of swoune abraidc, Eight in hire haukes leden thus she saydc. " That pitec ronncth sone in gcntil hcrtc (Fciing his similitude in peines smerte) Is proved alle day, as men may see. As wel by werke as by auctoritee. For gentil herte kitheth gentillesse. I see wel, that ye have on my distrcsse Compassion, my faire Canace, Of vcray womanly benignitee, That natirre in your principles hath set. But for non hope for to fare the bet. But for to obey unto your herte free. And for to maken other yware by me, As by the whelpe chastised is the Icon, Eight for that cause and that conclusion. While that I have a leiser and a space, Min harme I wol confessen er I pace." And ever while that on hire sorwe told. That other wept, as she to water wohl. Til that the faucon bad hire to be still, And with a sike right thus she said hire till. " Ther I was bred, (alas that ilke day !) And fostred in a roche of marble gray So tendrely, that nothing ailed mo. I ne wist not what was adversitee. Til I coud flee ful high under tho skie. " Tho dwelled a tercelet me faste by, That semcd welle of aUe gentillesse, Al were he ful of troson and falsenesse. It was so -HTapped under humble chore. And under hew of trouth in swiche mancro. Under plesance, and under besy peine, That no wight coud have wend he coude fciue. So dope in greyn he died his coloures. Eight as a serpent hidetli him under flourcs, Til he may sec his time for to bite ; Eight so this god of loves hypocrite Doth so his ceremonies and obeisance. And kepeth in semblaunt alle his observance, That souneth unto gontiUnesse of love. As on a tombe is alle the fairc above. And under is the corps, swiche as ye wotc ; Swiche was this hypocrite both cold and bote. earliest Times to 1400.] THE CANTERIiURY TALES. [C'HAUCEB And in tliis wise he t-ervoJ his entcnt, That, Hiivo the fend, non wistc what he mont : Til ho KO lon^ had wejicd and comphiiiied, And many a yero his ^lervicie to me faintd, Til that min hcrte, to pitous and to nice, Al innocent of liis crowned malice, For-fored of his doth, as tlioughto me, Upon his othes and his scuretcc, Graunted him love, on this conditioun, That overmo min honour and rcnoun Were saved, bothe privee and apcrt ; This is to Ray, tliat, after liis desert, I yavo him all min lierte and all my thought, (God wote, and lie, that other wayes nouj,'ht) And toko his herte in channjro of min for ay. But soth is said, gon sitlien is many a day, A trcwo wight and a theef thinkcn not on. " And whan ho saw tlio thing so fer ygon, That I had granted liim fully my love, In swicho a guise as I have said above, And j'evou him my trewe hcrte as free As he sworo that ho yaf his hcrte to mo, Anon this tigre, ful of doublenesse, Fell on his knees with so gi"et humblcsso, With so high reverence, as by his chcrc, Ko liko a gcntil lover of manerc. So ravished, as it somed, for the joyo, That never Jason, no Paris of Troye, Jason ? ccrtes, no never other man, Sin Lamech was, that alderfirst began To lovcn two, as wi-iten folk bcforne, No never sithen the first man was borne, No coudo man by twenty thousand part Contrefeto the sophimes of his art ; Xe were worthy to nnboclo his galoche, Ther doublenesse of faining shuld approcho, No coudo so thanko a wight, as he did me. His manor was an hoven for to see To any woman, were she never so wise ; So painted he and kempt, at point devise, As wel his wordes, as his contenance. And I so loved him for his obeisance, And for the troutho I domed in his herte. That if so were that any thing him smcrto, Al v.-ero it never so lite, and I it wist, JIo thought I felt doth at myn horto twist. And shortly, so ferforth tliis thing is went, That my -will was his willes instrument ; This is to saj-, my will obeied his will In alio thingo, as fer as reson fill, Keping the boundes of my worship ever : No never had I thing so lefe, no lever. As him, God wot, no never shal no mo. " This lastcth longer than a yero or two, That I supposed of him nought but good. But finally, thus at the last it stood. That fortune woldo that ho musto twin Out of that place, which that I was in. Whor mo was wo, it is no question ; I cannot make of it description. For o thing dare I tollcn boldcly, I know what is the peine of deth therby, S^vicho harmo I felt, for ho no miglit bylcvo. " So on a day of me ho toko his levo, So sorweful eke, that I wend veraily, That he had felt as mochel harme as I, Whan that I herd him Epeko, and nawo liis hewe. But natholes, I thought ho was ko trewo. And eke that he repairen shuld again Within a litel while, soth to sain, And roson wold eke that he musto go For his honour, as often liappeth eo, That I made vertue of necessitee, And toke it wel, sin tliat it musto be. As I best might, I hid fro him my sorwc, And toko him bj' the hond, Seiut John to borwo. And said liim tlius ; ' Lo, I am youres all, Beth swicho as I have ben to you and sliall.' " What he answerd, it nedoth not reherso ; Wlio can say bet than he, who can do worse ? Whan lie hath al wel said, than hath ho done. Therfore behovcth him a ful long spone, Tliat slud cte with a fend ; thus herd I say. " So at the laste he musto forth his way. And forth he flecth, til ho come ther him lest. Whan it came him to purpos for to rest, I trow that ho had thilke text in mind. That alio thing repairing to his kind Gladeth himself ; thus sain men as I gesso : Men lovcn of propro kind newefangelncs.-5e. As briddes don, that men in cages fede. For thougli thou night and day take of hem hedo. And strew hir cage faire and soft as silke, And give hem sugre, hony, bred, and milke. Yet I'iglit anon as that his dore is up. He with his feet wol simmen doun his cup. And to the wood he wol, and wormes eto ; So nowcfangel ben they of hir mete. Anil lovcn novelteos of proprc kind ; No gentillosso of blood ue may hem bind. " So ferd this tercelet, alas the day ! Though he were gentil borne, and fresh, and And goodly for to seen, and humble, and free. Ho saw upon a time a kite flee, And sodenly he loved this kite so. That all his love is clone fro me ago : And hath his trouthe falsod in this wise. Thus hath the Idte my love in liire service, And I am lorn withouten romcdj'." And witli that word this faueon gan to cry. And swouneth eft in Canaccos barmo. Grot was the sorwo for that haukes harme, That Canace and all hire women made ; Thoj' n'iston how they might the faueon glade. But Canace horn boreth hire in hire lap. And softely in piastres gan liiro wrai>. Tlier as she ■\\'ith hire bok had hurt hircselvc. Now cannot Canace but herbes delve Out of the ground, and maken salves newo Of herbes precious and fine of hewe. To helon with this hank ; fro ointod grone. In which were pointed all thi>o false foules, As ben thise tidifcs, tercclottcs, and owles ; Chaucee.] CUCKOW AND NIGHTINGALE. [First Period.— Fron? tlie And pies, on hem for to cry and chide, Eight for despit wore pointed hem beside. Thus lete I Canaco hire hank koping. I wol no more as now speke of hire ring, TU it come eft to pnrpos for to sain. How that this faucon gat hire love again Repentant, as the story telleth us, By mediation of Camballus The kinges sone, of which that I you told. But hennesforth I wol my processe hold To speke of aventures, and of batadles. That yet was never herd so grot mervailles. First wol I tellen you of Cambuscan, That in his time many a citee wan : And after wol I speke of Algarsif , How that he wan Theodora to his -vvif, For whom ful oft in gret peril he was, Ne had he ben holpen by the hors of bras. And after wol I speke of Camballo, That fought in listes ^N-ith the brethren two For Canaco, er that he might hire -wonne, And ther I left I wol again beginne. # # * * Chaucer. — About 1380. 21.— THE CUCKOW AND THE NIGHTIN- GALE. The god of love and benedicite. How mighty and how great a lord is he, For he can make of low hertes hy, And of high low, and like for to dy, And herd hertes he can maken free. He can make within a little stound Of sicke folke hole, fresh, and sound, And of hole he can make seeke. He can bind and vnbindcn eke That he woU have bounden or -vnbound. To tell his might my wit may not suffice, For he can make of wise folke full nice, For he may do all that he woll devise, And lithy folke to destroyen vice, And proud hertes he can make agrise. Shortly all that ever he woll he may, Against him dare no wight say nay. For he can glaxl and greve whom him liketh. And who that he woll, he loughcth or silccth. And most his might he shedcth ever in May. For every true gentle herte free. That with him is, or thinketh for to be, Againe May now shall have some storing. Or to joy or els to some mourning. In no season so much, as thinketh me. For whan they may here the birds sing. And see the fioures and the leaves spring, That bringeth into hir remembraunco A manner ease, meddled with grevaunce. And lustie thoughts full of great longing. And of that longing commeth hcvinesso, And thereof growoth of great sicknesse, And for lacke of that that they desire. And thus in May ben hertes set on fire, So that thoy bronncn forth in great distresso. I speake this of feeling truly, If I bo old and vnlusty. Yet I have felt of the sicknesse through May Both hote and cold, and axes every day. How sore ywis there wote no wight but I. I am so shaken with the fevers white, Of all this May sleepe I but a lite, And also it is not like to me. That any hcrto should sleepy be, In whom that Love his firy dart woU smite. But as I lay this other night waking, I thought how lovers had a tokening, And among hem it was a commune tale, That it were good to hero the nightingale, Eather than the leud cuckow sing. And than I thought anon as it was day, I would go some where to assay If that I might a nightingale here, For yet had I none hoard of all that ycre, And it was th® the third night of May. And anone as I the day aspide, No longer would I in my bed abide. But vnto a wood that was fast by, I went forth alone boldely. And hold the way downe by a brooke side. Till I came to a lavmd of white and green. So faire one had I never in been. The ground was green, ypoudred with daisic. The floures and the greues like hy. All greene and white, was nothing els scene. There sate I downe among the faire flom-s, And saw the birds trip out of hir hours, There as thoy rested hem all the night. They were so joyfuU of the dayes light. They began of May for to done honours. They coud that scruice all by rote. There was many a louely note, Some song loud as they had plained. And some in other manner voice yfained. And some all out with the fuU. throte. They proyned hem, and made hem right gay, And dauncedon and lepten on the spray, And euermore two and two in fore. Eight 80 as they had chosen hem to yere In Feuerere vpon saint Ualentines day. And the riuer that I sate vpon. It made such a noise as it ron, Accordaunt with the birds armony. Me thought it was the best melody That might ben yheard of any mon. And for dclito I wote neuer how I fell in such a slomber and a swow, Nat aU asleepe, ne fvdly waking. And in that swow me thought I heard sing The sorry bird, the Icaud cuckov/. earliest Times to I'lOO.] CUCKOW AND NIGHTINGALE. [Chaucee. And that was on a tree ritrht fast by, But who was than ouill apaiil but I : " Now God," quod I, "that died on the crois Yeue sorrow on tliec, and on tliy loaud vols, Full little joy haue I now of thy cry." And as I with the cuckow thus gan chide, I heard in the next bush bosido A nightingale so lustely suig. That with lier clero voice she made ring Through all the grceno wood wide. "Ah, good nightingale," quod I than, " A little hast thou ben too long hen, For here hath ben the leaud cuckow, And songen songs rather than hast thou, I pray to God ouill fire her bren." But now I woU you toU a wonder thing, As long as I lay in that swouning. Mo thought I wist what the birds ment, And what they said, and what was hir entcnt. And of .hir speech I had good knowing. There heard I the nightingale say, " Now, good cuckow, go somewhere away, And let vs that can siugen dwcUen here. For ouery wight eschoueth thee to here, Thy songs be so elengo in good fay," "What," quod she, "what may thee aylen now. It thinketh me, I sing as well as thou, For my song is both true and jdaine, And though I cannot crakcU so in vainc, As thou dost in thy throte, I wot ncucr how. " And euery wight may vnderstand mce, But nightingale so may thoy not done thee, For thou hast many a nice queint cry, I haue thee heard saine, ocy, ocy. How might I know what that should be ? " "Ah! foole," quod she, " wost thou not what it is, Whan that I say, ocy, ocy, ywis. Than meane I that I would wonder faine, That aU they were shamefvdiy yslaiuc. That meanen ought againe loue amis. " And also I would that all tho were dodo. That thinkc not in loue hir life to Icdc, For who so that wol not the god of loue serue, I dare well say he is worthy to steruo. And for that skill, ocy, ocy, I grede." " Eye," quod the cuckow, " this is a quoint law. That euery wight shall loue or be to draw, But I forsake all such companie. For mine entcnt is not for to die. No neuer while I Uuo on Loues yoke to draw. " For louers ben tho folke that ben on line. That most disease haue, and most vnthriuc, And most endure sorrow, wo, and care. And least feelen of welfare, "WTiat nedcth it ayenst trouth to striuc." " What," quod she, " thou art out of thy mind, How might thou in thy churlenesse find To speako of Loues seruaunts in this wise, For in this world is none so good sc-ruiso To euery wight that gentle is of kind, " For thereof truly commeth all goodncsse, All honour and all gentlenesso. Worship, ease, and all hertes lust, Parfite joy, and full assured trust, lolitie, pleasauncc, and freshnessc, " Lowlyhead, largesse, and curtesic, Semel3'heatl, and true companie, Drede of shame for to done amis : For ho that truly Loucs seruaunt is. Were lother be shamed than to die. " And that this is soth that I sey, In that belecue I will Hue and dey. And cuckow so I redo that thou do ywis : " " Than," quod he, " lot me neuer haue blisse If euer I vnto that counsaile obey. " Nightingale thou speakest wonder fairo. But for all that is the sooth contraire. For loue is in yong folke, but rage. And in old folke a great dotage. Who most it vseth, most shall enpairo. " For thereof cometh disease and heuinesse. So sorow and care, and many a great sicknessc Despite, debate, anger, and enuie, Deprauing, shame, vntrust, and jelousie. Pride, mischeefe, pouerty, and woodncsse : " Louing is an office of despaire. And one thing is therein that is not faire. For who that getteth of loue a little blisse, But if he be alway therewith ywis. He may full soone of age haue his haire. " And, nightingale, therefore hold thee ny, For leuo me well, for all th}' queint cry. If thou be ferro or long fro thy make. Thou shalt be as other that been forsake, And than thou shalt hoten as doe I." " Fie," quod she, " on thy name and on thee, Tho god of loue ne let thee neuer j-thee, For thou art worse a thousand fold than wood. For many a ono is fidl worthy and full good, That had be naught ne had loue ybce. " For euermore Loue his soruants amcnattle gart he wccl an-ay. He rade upon a little palfrey, Laweht and joly aiTayand His battle, with an ax in hand. And on his bassinet he bare An hat of tjTC aboon ay where ; And, thereupon, into takin, Ane high croAvn, that he was king. And when Gloster and Hereford were With their battle approachand near. Before them all there came ridand. With helm on heid and spear in hand. Sir Henry the Boon, the worthy, That was a wicht knicht, luul a hardy, And to tho Earl of Hereford cousin ; Armed in arms gudc and fine ; John Barbour.] BATTLE OF BYLAND'S BATH. [First Feriod. Came on a steed a bowshot near, Before all other that there were : And knew the king, for that he saw Him sae range his men on raw, And by the crown that was set Also upon his bassinet. And toward him he went in hy. And the king sae apertly Saw him come, forouth all his fears. In hy till him the horse he steers. And when Sir Heni-y saw the king Come on, foroutin abasing. Till him he rode in great hy. He thought that he should weel Uchtly Win him, and have him at liis will, Sin' he him horsit saw sae ill. Sprent they samen intUl a lyng ; Sir Henry missed the noble king ; And he that in his stirrups stude. With the ax, that was hard and gude, With sae great main, raucht him a dint. That nouther hat nor helm niicht stint The heavy dush, that he liim gave. That near the head till the hams clave. The hand-ax shaft frushit in tway ; And he down to the yird gan gae All fiatlings, for him failit micht. This was the first straik of the ficht, That was performit douchtUy. And when the king's men sae stoutly Saw him, richt at the fii'st meeting, Forouten doubt or abasing. Have slain a knicht sae at a straik, Sic hard'mcnt thereat gan they tak, That they come on richt hardilj'. When Englishmen saAv them sae stoutly Come on, they had great abasing ; And specially for that the king ^ Sae smartly that gude knicht has slain, That they %vithdrew them everilk ane. And durst not ane abide to ficht : Sae dreid they for the king's micht. * When that the king repairit was, That gart his men all leave the chase, The lordis of his company Blamed him, as they durst, greatumly. That he him put in aventure. To meet sae stith a knicht, and stour. In sic point as he then was seen. For they said weel, it micht have been Cause of their tynsal everilk ane. The king answer has made them nane, But mainit his hand-ax shaft sae Was with the straik broken in tway. John Barbour. — About 1390. 35.— THE BATTLE OF BYLAND'S PATH. Thus were they fechtand in the pass. And when the king Eobert, that was Wiss in his deid, and anerly, Saw his men sae right doughtily The path upon their fayis ta' ; And saw his fajds defend them sae ; Then gart he all the Irishry That were intill his company. Of Argyle and the Isles alsua, Speed them in great hy to the brae. And bade them leave the path haly And climb up in the crags hy ; And speed them fast the height to ta' : Then might men see them stoutly gae. And climb all gate up the height. And leave not for theii- fajis might. Maugre their fayis, they bare them sae That they are gotten abune the brae. Then might men see them fight felly ; And rusche their fayis sturdily. And they that till the pass were gane, Maugi-e their fayis, the height has tane ; Then laid they on ^vith all their might ; There might men see them felly fight. John Bwrbowr. — About 1390, THE SECOND rERIOD, FROM 1400 TO 1558. WARTON, with groat beauty and justice, compares the appearance of Chaucer in our langTiajjo to a premature day in an Enj^lish spring ; after which the gloom of winter rotoms, aud the buds and blossoms, which have been called forth by a transient sunshine, are nipped by frosts and scattered by storms. The causes of the relapse of our poetry, after Chaucer, seem but too apparent in the annals of English history, which during five reigns of tlic fifteenth century continue to display but a tissue of conspiracies, proscriptions, and blood- shed. Inferior even to Franco in literary progress, England displays in the fifteenth century a still more mortifying contrast wth Italy. Italy, too, had her religious schisms and public distractions ; but her arts and literature had always a sheltcring-jilace. They were even cherished by the rivalship of indopcndont communities, and received encouragement from tho opposite sources of commercial and ecclesiastical wealth. But ice had no Nicholas the Fifth, nor house of Mcdicis. In England, tho evils of civil war agitated society as one mass. Thero was no refuge from them — no inclosurc to fence in the field of improvement — no mound to stem tho torrent of public troubles. Before the death of Henry VI., it is said that one half of tho nobiUty and gentry in the kingdom had pei-ished in the field, or on the scaffold. "Whilst in England the public spirit was thus brutalized, whilst the value and security of life were abridged, whilst the wealth of the rich was employed only iu war, and the chance of patronage taken from tho scholar ; in Italy, princes and magistrates vied wth each other in caUing men of genius around them, as tho brightest ornaments of their states and coiu-ts. Tlio art of printing came to Italy to record the treasures of its literaiy attainments ; but when it came to England, with a very few exceptions, it could not be said, for the purpose of diflFusiug native literature, to bo a necessary art. A circumstance, additionally hostile to the national genius, may certainly bo traced in tho executions for religion, which sprang up as a horrible novelty in onr country in the fifteenth century. The clergy were determined to indemnify themselves for tho exposures which they had mot with in the preceding age, and the unhallowed com- promise wliich Henry IV. made with them, in return for supporting his accession, armed them, in an evil hour, \vith the torch of persecution. In ono point of improvement, namely, in tho boldness of religious inquiry, the North of Europe might already boast of being superior to the South, wth all its learning, wealth, and elegant acquirements. The Scriptures had been opened by Wickliff'o, but they were again to become "a fountain scaled, and a spring shut up." Amidst tho progress of letters in Italy, the fine arts threw enchantment aroimd superstition ; and tho warm imagination of the South was congenial to tho nature of Catholic institutions. But tho E.iglish mind had already shown, even amidst its comparative barbarism, a stern independent spirit of religion ; and from tliis single proud and elevated point of its character, it was now to bo crushed and beaten ilown. Sometimes a baffled ."struggle against oppression is more depressing to tho human faculties than continued submission. Our natural hatred of tyranny, and wo may safely add, tho general test of history and experience, would dispose us to believe religious persecution to be necessarily and essentially bancfiU to the elegant arts, no less than to the intellectual piirsuits of mankind. It is natural to think, that when punishments are let loose upon men's opinions, they will spread a contagious alarm from the understanding to the imagination. They will make the heart grow close and insensible to generous feelings, where it is unaccustomed to express them freely ; and the graces and gaiety of fancy will bo dejected and appalled. In an ago of persecution, even tho li\Tng study of his own species must be comparatively darkened to tho poet. Ho looks round on the characters and countenances of his fellow-creatures ; and instead of tho naturally cheerful and eccentric variety of their humours, he reads only a sullen and oppressed uiiiformitj'. To the spirit of poi'try wo should conceive such a period to be an impassablo Avcrnus, whore she would droi) her wings and expire. Undoubtedly this inference will be 94920 THE SECOND PERIOD.— FKOM 1400—1558. found warranted by a general survey of the history of Genius. It is, at the same time, im- possible to deny, that wit and poetry have in some instances flourished coeval -with ferocious bigotry, on the same spot, and under the same government. The literary glory of Spain was posterior to the establishment of the Inquisition. The fancy of Cervantes sported in its neighbourhood, though ho declared that he could have made his writings still more enter- taining if he had not dreaded the Holy Office. But the gro%vth of Spanish genius, in spite of the co-existence of religious tjTanny, was fostered by uncommon and glorious advantages in the circumstances of the nation. Spain (for we are comparing Spain in the sixteenth with England in the fifteenth century) was, at the period alluded to, great and proud in an empire on wliich it was boasted that the sun never set. Her language was wddcly diffused. The wealth of America for a while animated aU her arts. Eobertson says that the Spaniards dis- covered at that time an extent of political knowledge which the English themselves did not attain for more than a century afterwards. Religious persecutions began in England at a time when she was comparatively poor and barbarous, yet after she had boon awakened to so much intelligence on the subject of religion as to make one half of the people indignantly impatient of priestly tyranny. If we add to the political troubles of the age, the circumstances of religious opinions being silenced and stifled by penal horrors, it will seem more wonderful that the spark of literature was kept alive, than that it did not spread more widely. Yet the fifteenth century had its redeeming traits of refinement, the more wonderful for appearing in the midst of such unfavourable circumstances. It had a Fortescue, although he wandered in exile, tmprotected by the constitution which he explained and extoUed in his ^vritings. It had a noble patron and lover of letters in Tiptoft, although he died by the hands of the executioner. It witnessed the foimding of many colleges in both of the universities, although they were still the haunts of scholastic quibbling ; and it produced, in the venerable Pccock, one con- scientious dignitary of the church, who -wished to have converted the Protestants by appeals to reason, though for so doing he had his books, and, if he had not recanted in good time, would have had his body also, committed to the flames. To these causes may be ascribed the back- wardness of our poetry between the dates of Chaucer and Spenser. I speak of the chasm extending to, or nearly to, Spenser ; for, mthout undervaluing the elegant talents of Lord Surrey, I think we cannot consider the national genius as completely emancipated from oppressive circumstances, till the time of Elizabeth. There was indeed a commencement of our poetry under Henry VIII. It was a fine, but a feeble one. English genius seems then to have come forth, but half assured that her day of emancipation was at hand. There is something melancholy even in Lord Surrey's strains of gallantry. The succession of Henry VIII. gave stability to the government, and some degree of magnificence to the state of society. But tyranny was not yet at an end ; and to judge, not by the gross buffoons, but by the few minds entitled to be called poetical, which appear in the earlier part of the sixteenth century, we may say that the English Muse had stiU a diffident aspect and a faltering tone. * * * * The Scottish poets of the fifteenth, and of a part of the sixteenth century, would also justly demand a place in any history of our poetry that meant to be copious and minute ; as the northern "makers," notwithstanding the difference of dialect, generally denominate their language " Inglis." Scotland produced an entire poetical version of the jEneid, before Lord Surrey had translated a single book of it ; indeed, before there was an English version of any classic, excepting Boethius, if he can be called' a classic. Virgil was only known in the English language through a romance of the Siege of Troy, published by Caxton, which, as Bishop Douglas observes, in the prologue to his Scottish iEneid, is no more Uke Virgil than the devil is like St. Austin. Perhaps the resemblance may not even be so great. But the Scottish poets, after all that has been said of them, form nothing like a brilliant revival of poetry. They are on the whole superior, indeed, in spirit and originality to their English contemporaries, which is not saying much ; but their style is, for the most part, cast, if possible, in a worst taste. The prevailing fault of English diction, in the fifteenth century, is redimdant ornament, and an affectation of Anglicising Latin words. In this pedantry and use of " aureate terms," the Scottish versifiers went even beyond their brethren of the south. Some exceptions to the remark, I am aware, may be found in Dunbar, who sometimes exhibits simplicity and lyrical terseness ; but even his style has frequent deformities of quaintness, false ornament, and alliteration. The rest of them, when they meant to be most eloquent, tore up words from the Latin, which never took root in the language, like children making a mock garden with flowers and branches stuck in the ground, which speedily wither. — CampheWs Essay on English Poetry. BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. JOHN LYDGATE. John Lyilgato, who flourished abont the year 1430, was an Augustine monk of St. Ed- mund's Bury. "His muse," says Warton, "was of universal access, and ho was not only the poet of the monastery, but of the world in pcneral. If a disguising was intended by the company of Goldsmiths, a mask before His Majesty at Eltham, a May-game for the sheriffs and aldermen of London, a mumming before the Lord Mayor, a procession of pageants from the creation for the festival of Corpus Christ i, or a card for the corona- tion, Lydgate was consulted and gave the poetry." He travelled in Franco and Italy. He kept a school for pupils of the higher classes in versification. He wrote, according to Ritson, in his " Bibliographica Poetica," no fewer than 251 works. He was a good mathematician and also an accomplished scholar. Boru 1375, died 14G1. the Green," the "King's Quhair," and " Peebles at the Play," which exhibit no mean degree of intellectual power and literary skill. — Bccton's Universal Biography, p. 548. JAMES I. James I., King of Scotland, the son of Robert III., was taken by the English on his passage to France, and kept in confinement eighteen years. In 1423 he obtained his li- berty on Marrying Joanna Beaufort, daughter of the Earl of Somerset, with whom he had fallen in love from seeing her walking in the royal gardens at "Windsor while ho was a prisoner there, and who is believed to be the lady alluded to in James's pleasing poem of the "King's Quhair." On his retiom to Scotland ho severely punished his uncle, the Duke of Albany, and others, who had mis- governed the country in his absence, in con- sequence of which a conspiracy was formed, and ho was murdered in his private apart- ments in 1437. James I. was a most accom- plished gentleman, and a poet of no little merit. Ho invented a sort of plaintive melody, which wa.s greatly admired and imi- tated in Italy, in which country he was, in consequence, long remembered with respect. He was one of the most skilful harpers of his time, and excelled all competitors in the use of that instrument. Throe comiiositions of his have come down to us, " Christ's Kirk on ANDREW A\nrNTOUN. Andrew Wj-ntoun lived in the early part of the 15th century. He was a priest of St. Serf's monastery in Lochleven. He wrote a chronicle of his country in rhyme. It ia " valuable as a jjicture of ancient manners, as a repository of historical anecdotes, and as a specimen of the literary attainments of our ancestors. It contains a considerable number of fabulous legends, such as we may suppose to have been told beside the parlour fire of a monastery of those days." — Chaiuhers's Cyclo- poedia of English Literature, vol. i. p. 28. BLIND HARRY. Blind Harry, or Henry the ^Minstrel, lived about the close of the 15th century. He sang the adventures of Wallace, and the poem, in eleven books, is full of animated descriptions of battle and heroic deeds. William Hamilton of Gibertfield paraphrased it into modem Scotch. In its new dress it has been exceed- ingly popular among the peasantry, and tended greatly to kindle the genius of Bums. ROBERT HENRYSONE. Little is known of this poet's liistory. He was a schoolmaster at Dunfermhne, and a monk of the Benedictine order. Ho wrote a number of poems, the chief of wliich are "The Testament of Cresseido," being a sequel to Chaucer's Troilus and Cresseide " Fabils," thirteen in number. His best fable is the " Vpoulands Mouse and the Burgesse Mouse ; " but his most esquisito production is "Robene and Makyne," which is probably the earliest specimen of pastoral poetry in the Scottish language. Dr. David Irs-ing, in his "Lives of the Scottish Poot:^," thus speaks of him : — " The various work* of BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. [Second Period.- Hcnrysonc afford so excellent a specimen of the Scottish lan^iage and versification, that a complete collection, printed with due accuracy and accompanied with proper illustrations, could not fail to be highly acceptable to the lovers of our early literature. The poems of Henrysone are given in the collections of Hailes, Pinkerton, Eamsay, Sibbald, Irving, and EUis." He died some time before the year 150S. general — prolix, though sometimes animated, descriptive of sensible objects." Warton speaks of liim as highly poetical ; and Irving as a bold and energetic writer, WILLIAM DUNBAR. "William Dunbar, born 1465, died 1530. Dunbar was a native of Salton, East Lothian, Scotland. He received his education at the University of St. Andrew. He became a Franciscan friar, and preached in Scotland, England, and France. James IV. gave him residence at the court, and employed him in diplomatic services. He wi'ote " The Tliistle and Eose," an allegory celebrating the marriage of James IV. of Scotland ^vith Margaret, daughter of Henry VII. ; " The Dance of the Seven Deadly Sins through Hell;" and "The Golden Terge." His "Merle and Nightingale" exhibits much beauty. " The Two Married Women and the Widow" is in a rich vein of humour: it is however indelicate. Sir Walter Scott ex- presses a very high opinion of Dunbar ; he says, "that he is unrivalled by any poet that Scotland has yet produced ; " and Ellis speaks in equally high terms : " Dunbar's peculiar excellence is much good sense and soimd morality, expressed with force and concise- ness. His style, whether grave or humorous, whether simple or ornamented, is always energetic ; and though all his compositions cannot be expected to possess equal merit, we seldom find in them a weak or redundant stanza." His poems were pubUshed with notes by Sir Da\"id Dalrymple. Strange to say that, with a very slight exception, aU his writings remained in manuscript till the beginning of the last century. GAWAIN DOUGLAS. Gawain Douglas, bom at Brechin 1475, died 1522. He was the third son of Archi- bald, fifth Earl of Angus, and became Bishop of Dunkeld. He was educated at the Univer- sity of Paris, and having entered the church, he was ever regarded as a lover of peace. He was a poet of considerable power, and his I)rincipal production, " The Palice of Honour," win often remind the reader of Bunyan's POgrim's Progress. He is, however, best known for his translation of Virgil's .^neid into Scottish verse : the first version of any classic author into the British language. Hallam, in " Introduction to Literary History," says " the character of Douglas's original poetry seems to be that of the middle ages in SIR DAVID LYNDSAY. Sir David Ljmdsay was born about 1490- He served King James V. in a variety of ofiices, as sewer, carver, cupbearer, pitrse. master, and was afterwards appointed Lord Lyon King at Arms. Ho was given to hu- mour and satire ; and though so intimately connected with the court, yet he boldly de- nounced its foibles and abuses. The clergy, Avho then led for the most part very dissolute lives, he strongly assailed. His writings doubtless contributed in no little degree to help forward the Reformation in Scotland. He died about the year 1555. JOHN SKELTON. John Skelton was born either in Cum- berland, or more probably in Norfolk, about 1460. He was educated at Oxford, and after- wards became Rector of Diss. His conduct was very unsuitable for a clergyman, although some allowance must be made for the general laxity of the times. Through an attack in his poem " Why come ye not to Court ? " on Cardinal Wolsey, then in the zenith of power, he was compelled to seek refuge with Islip, the Abbot of Westminster. With this kind and faithful friend he lived till his death, in 1529. His works consist chiefly of satires and sonnets : there are also some severe remarks on Lily, a noted grammarian at that period. The Rev. Alexander Dyce has published his poems. HENRY HOWARD. Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, born 1518, died 1547. He was the third son of Thomas, Earl of Surrey, and third Duke of Norfolk, by his second duchess, Elizabeth, daughter of Stafford, Duke of Buckingham. He was the companion of Henry Fitzroy, Duke of Rich- mond, Henry VIII. 's natural son. Both were sent to Cardinal College, now called Chi-ist Church, Oxford. Ko married in 1535 Lady Frances Vere. In 1542 he served under his father in Scotland. Two years aftenvards he was appointed Field-Marshal of the English army on the Continent. He distinguished him- self greatly at the sieges of Landrecy and Boulogne. He became Ixighly popular, and de- servedly so, as his valour, skill, and accom- plishments were g^reat. But this the jealous Henry could lU brook. He was recalled from the Continent and imprisoned immediately on his arrival in England. He was then charged, From 1400 ti, 1558.] BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. on tho most trifling and flimsy pretences, with high treason. Ho was convicteil, and on the 19th January, 1547, this brave, frenerous, noble-hearted man was beheaded on Tower Hill, through tho caprice of a relentless tj'rant. He left two sons and three daughters. Robert Chambers rightly describes tho poetry of Surrey as " remarkable for a flowing melody, correctness of stylo, and purity of expression. Ho was the first to introduce tho sonnet and blank verse into English poetry. Tho gentle and melancholy pathos of his stylo is well oxempUficd in the verses which ho wrote during liis captivity in Windsor Castle." He was celebrated by Drayton, Dryd(^ Fenton, and Pope ; and Sir Walter Raleigh says, " he was no less valiant than learned, and of excel- lent hopes." Lodge, in " Biographical Ac- counts of tho Holbein Portraits," states that " the character of Henry, Earl of Surrey, re- flects splendour even upon the nameof Howard. Ho revived, in an age too rude to enjoy f\illy those beauties which mere nature could not but in some degree relish, the force of expression, the polished style and the passionate senti- ments of tho best poets of antiquity." Hallam, in liis " Literary History of Europe," writes, "the taste of this remarkable man is more than his poetical genius. He did much for his ovm. country and his native language." SIR THOMAS ■\\^^AT. Sir Thomas Wyat the Elder was. born at Allington Castle, in Kent, in 1503. Ho was educated at the University of Cambridge. Ho married early, and was in great repute ■with Henry VIII., who sent him on many difficult missions, in all of which he showed great ^visdom and knowledge of mankind. It is believed that he was attached to Anne Boloyn before her marriage mth the king. His poems were one of the last works read by tho ill-fated queen. Once AVj'at seems to have lost his influence at court, for he was committed to tho Tower ; but though imfairly tried, was honom-ably acquitted. He once again became a favourite with the capricious and tyrannical monarch. " In the autumn of 1542, he received orders to meet the Spanish Ambassador, who had landed at Falmouth, and to conduct him to London. In tliis journey he overheated himself \vith riding, and was seized at Sherborne vfith a malignant fever, which carried him off", after a few days' illness, in his thirty-ninth year." — {Campbell's Specimens of the British Poets.) Ho ■mrote many beautiful songs and sonnets, principally at his paternal seat of Allington. He also translated David's Psalms into English verse. ANDREW BOURD. Andrew Bourd, born about 1500, died 1549. was a native of Sussex, and educated at Oxford. Heamo tells ns that he " frequented markets and fairs where a conflux of people used to get together, to whom he prescribed, and to induce them to flock thither the more readily, he would make humorous Hpeeches." He jjublished " Pryncyjdes of Astronomye " in 1.540; in 1542 he issued "Tho First Boke of the Introduction of Knowledge, the which doth tciich a man to speake jjart of al manor of languages, and to know the usage and fashion of al manor of couutrycs, &c.," of which work Dibdin says, " Probably tho most curious and generally interesting volume ever put forth from tho press of the Coplands." He wrote the well-known and celebrated " ilcrrie Tales of the Mad Men of Gotham." This "was accounted a book fidl of vrit and mirth by scholars and gentlemen. Afterwards being often printed, is now sold only on the stalls of ballad-singers." — (Atlien. Oion.) He \vrote " The Breviarie of Healthe for all Manner of Sicknesses and Diseases," &c., 1547, which was approved by tho University of Oxford. In the dedicatory Epistle to the College of Physicians he thus writes : " Egregious doctors and masters of the eximious and arcane science of physic, of your urbanity exas- perate not yourselves against mo for making this little volume of physic." See Wood's " Athon. Oxon.," Bliss's edit. ; Warton's "Eng- lish Poetry"; Dibdin's "Ames"; "Brit. Bibliog. " ; Kitson's " Bibliog. Poet. " ; Dodd's "Ch. Hist.," vol. i. ; Cooper's "Muses' Library " ; Phillips's " Theatrum Poet. Angl. " ; Heame's " Pref. to Benedictus Abbas Petroburg" ; Chalmers's " Biog. Diet." THOMAS TUSSER. Thomas Tusser, born 1523, died 1580. Little is known of tliis poet beyond that " ho was well educated, commenced life as a courtier under tho patronage of Lord Paget, but became a farmer, pursuing agriculture at Ratwood, in Sussex, Ipswich, Fairstead in Essex, Norwich, and other places ; that ho was not successful, and had to betake himself to other occupations, such as those of a cho- rister, fiddler, &c. ; and that finally he died a poor man in London, in the year 1580. Tusser has left only one work, pubhshed in 1557, entitled 'A Hundred Good Points of Hus- bandrie,' ^vrittcn in simple, but at the same time strong verse. It is our first, and not our worst didactic poem." — Geo. Giljillan's Specimens, ivith Memoirs of the less known British Poets. mCKARJ) EDW.VRDS. Richard Edwards, 1523— 15(.;0. One of the earliest dramatic writers, educated at Conms Christi College, and Christchurch, Oxford. Ho was ono of tho contributors of tho " Paradyso of Daj-nty Dc^•ise»." author of BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. [Second Period- '"Damon and Pythias." Tliis "Damon and Pythias " was the foremost of English dramas On classical subjects, and was) acted before Queen Elizabeth in 1566. He \\Tote also the comedy of " Pali\3mon and Arcyte," which was performed in the hall of liis former college, Christchurch, in the same year ; and Wood, in "Athen. Oxon.,"' Bliss's edit., i. 353, gives a most interesting account of the acting thereof in the presence of Roj-altj-, when the cry of the hounds was so well imitated that many of the scholars " were so much taken and surprised, supposing it had been real, that they cried out, ' There, there — he's caught, he's caught ! ' All which the queen merrily beholding, said, ' Oh, excellent ! those boys in very truth are ready to leap out of the windows to follow the hounds.' " Edwards's madrigals and other poetical productions were ver}- popular. Sec Puttenham's " Arte of Eng. Poets " ; Wood's " Annals " ; Sir E. Erydges's edit, of Phillips's "Theatrum Poetarum " ; " Brit. Bibliog." vol. iii. j Hawkins's " Hist, of Music" ; Ellis's " Spec. Eng. Poet."; Warton's "Hist, of Eng. Poet."; " Biog. Dramat. " ; Collier's "Hist, of Dram. Poet." ; and Drake's " Shakspeare and his Times." WILLIAM HUNNIS. William Hunnis was chapel-master to Queen Elizabeth. Ho wrote " Certaj-no Psalms in English Metre," 1550 ; also in 1578 a " Hyvo full of Hunny, containing the First Booko of Moses called Genesis turned into English Metre." Ho published "Seven Sobs of a SoiTowful Soulo for Sinne," &c., in 1585; "Recreations," in 1588, and other works. See "Bibl. Anglo. Poet."; Lowndes's " Bibl. Man."; Brydges's "Brit. Bibliog."; Camp- beU's " Spec, of Eng. Poets" ; Dibdin's "Lib. Comp.," ed. 1825, G55 ; Hallam's "Lit. Hist, of Europe," ed. 1854, ii. 120; ColUer's "Annals of the Stage," vol. i. p. 235. i SECOND r E E I D. From 1400 to 1558. 36.— CANACE, CONDEMNED TO DEATH BY HER FATHER ^OLUS, SENDS TO HER GUILTY BROTHER MACAREUS THE LAST TESTIMONY OF HER UN- HAPPY PASSION. Out of her swoone when she did abbraide, Knowing no mean but death in her distresse, To her brotlu'r fidl ]iiteouslie slio said, "Cause of my sorrowe, rootc of my heavinesse, That whikim were the soursc of my ghidnesso, AVhfii botli our joycs by willc were so di^^posed, Under one key our hearts to be enclosed. This is mine end, I may it not astarte ; brother mine, there is no more to saye ; Lowly beseeching with mine whole heart For to remember specially, I prayc, If it befall my littel sonne to dye, That thou mayst after some mind on us have, SufVer us both bo buried in one grave. 1 hold him strictly twene my amies twein, Thou and Nature laido on me this charge ; He, guiltlesse, muste with me suffer paine, And, sith thou art at freedom and at large, Let kindnesse ouro love not so discharge, But have a minde, wherever that thou be, Once on a day upon my child and me. On thee and me depcndcth the trespuce Touching our guilt and our great offence, But, wclaway ! most j'lngelik of face Our childe, young in his pure innocence. Shall agayn right suffer death's violence, Tender of limbes, God woto, full guiltclesso The goodly faire, that lieth here speechless. A mouth he has, but wordis hath ho none ; Cannot complaiuo alas ! for none outrage : Nor grutcheth not, but lies here all alone Still as a lambe, most meko of his visage. What heart of stole could do to him damage, Or suffer him dye, \)eholding the manerc And looke benigue of his twein cyon clere." — "Writing her letter, awhapped all in dredo. In her right hand her pen ygan to quake. And a sharp sword to make her henrtt^ blcde, In her left hand her father hath her take, And most her sorrowe was for her childea sake, Upoji whose fac^ in her barme sleepynge Full many a tore she wept in cGmpluyning. After all this so as ^he stoode and quoke. Her child beholding mid of her peines smart, AVilliout abode the sharj)*- sword she toohe. And rove herselfi' even to the hearto ; Her childe fell down, Avhich mightcnot astert. Having no help to succour him nor save, But in her blood theselfe began to bathe. John LijJ'jate.— About 1420. 37.— FROM " THE LONDON LACK- PENN^''." Within the hall, neither rich nor yet poor Would do for me aught, altho' I should die, Y>'liich seeing I gat me out of the door, Where Flemings began on me for to cry, " Master what will you kopen or buy r Fine felt hats, or spectacles to read ? Lay down your silver and here may you speed. " Then to Westminster gate I presently went. When the sun it was at high prime : And cooks to me they took good intent. And proffered me bread, with ale and wine. Ribs of beef, both fat and full tine, A fair cloth they 'gan for to spread. But, wanting monej', I might not be sped. Then unto London I did me hie. Of all the land it beareth the price. " Hot peascods ! " — one began to cry, '• Strawberry ripe, and cherries in the rise." One bade me draw near and buy some spice. Pepper and saffron they 'gan me bid, But, for lack of monej-, 1 might not speed. Then to the Cheepe I 'gan me drawn, Where much people I saw for to stand. One offered me velvet, silk, and lawn : Another ho taketh me by the hand, — '• Here is Paris thread, the tinest in the laiu'."' I never was used to such things indeed. And, wanting money, I might not speed. Then went I forth by London Stone, Through out all Canwyko Street. Drapers much cloth mo offered anon. Then comes me one cried — ■Hotshecp'sfeet." One cried " Mackrell ! " — " Rysscs gi-een ! " another "gan greit. ions Ltdgate.] A SYLVAN RETREAT. [Second Period. — One bade me buy a liood to cover my bead, But, for want of money, I niigbt not be sped. Then I hied mc unto East Chccpe. One cries ribs of beef, and many a pie. Pewter pots they clattered on a heap. There was harp, pipe, and minstrally. " Yea, by cock ! nay, by cock ! " — some 'gau cry. Some san J of Jenkin and Julian for their meed. But, for lack of money, I might not speed. Then iuto ComhUl anon I yodc, "Where was much stolen gear ; among I saw where hung mine own hood. That I had lost among the throng. To buy my o^ti hood I thought it wrong ; I knew it, well as I did my creed. But, for lack of money, I could not speed. The taverner took me by the sleeve, " Sir," says he, " will you our wine assay ? " I answered, " That cannot much me grieve, — A penny can do no more than it may." I drank a pint, and for it did pay : Yet sore a hixngered from thence I yede, And, wanting money, I could not speed. John Lydgate. — About 1420. 38.— A SYLVAN RETREAT. Till at the last, among the bowes glade. Of adventure, I caught a pleasant shade ; Full smooth, and plain, and lusty for to seen. And soft as velvet was the yonge green : Where from my horse I did alight as fast, And on the bow aloft his reine cast. So faint and mate of weariness I was, That I me laid adown upon the grass, Upon a brinke, shortly for to tell. Beside the river of a crystal well ; And the water, as I reherse can. Like quicke silver in his streams y-ran, Of which the gravel and the brighte stone. As any gold, against the sun y-shono. Jolai Lydrjato. — Ahout 1420. 39.— THE GOLDEN AGE. Fortitude then stood steadfast in his might ; Defended widows ; cherished chastity ; Knighthood in prowess gave so clear a light, Girt with his sword of trath and equity. John Lydgate. — About 1420. 40.— GOD'S PROVIDENCE. God hath a thousand handcs to chastise ; A thousand dartt's of punicion ; A thousand bowes made in divers wise ; A thousand arlblasts bent in his dongeon. John Lydgate. — About 1420. 41.— SPRING. QUHAIR: CANTO II. In Vcr, that full of virtue is and good. When Nature first beginncth her emprise, That whilom was, by cruel frost and flood, And r.howers sharp, oppressed in many wise : And Cynthius beginneth to arise High in the east, a morrow soft and sweet. Upwards his course to drive in Ariete ; II. Passit but midday four 'gi'eis, even Of length and breadth his angel wingis bright He spread upon the ground do-wn from the heaven ; That for gladness and comfort of the sight, And %vith the tickling of his heat and light, The tender flowris opeuit them and sprad. And in their natiu'e thankit him for glad. James I. of Scotland. — Ahout 14:20. 42.— JAMES BEWAILS HIS CAPTIVITY. CANTO II. VII. Whereas in ward full oft I wonl 1 bewail, My deadly life full of pain and pennance, Sajing right thus: — ^'"What have I guilt, to fail My freedom in this world and my pleasaunce ? Since every wight thereof has sufRsance, That I behold, — and I, a creature Put from all this : — ^hard is min© aventure. VIII. " The bird, the beast, the fish eke in the sea, They live in freedom, everich in his kind, And I, a man — and lacketh liberty ! ■^Miat shall I sayn ? What reason may I find That fortune should do so ? " Thiis in my mind ; My folk I would argewe — but all for nought — Was none that might that on my paines rought. James I. of Scotland. — Ahout 1420. 43.— JAMES FIRST SEES THE LADY JANE. Bewailing in my chamber, thus alone, Despaired of all joy and remedy, For-tired of my thought, and woe-begone. And to the window gan I walk in hy To see the world and folk that went forbye. As, foi' the time, though I of mirthis food Might Lave no more, to look it did me good. Now was there made, fast by the towris wall, A garden fair ; and in the corners set Ane arbour green, -with wandis long and small Railed about, and so with trees set Was all the place, and hawthorn hedges Icnet That lyf was none walking there forbye, That might -svithin scarce any mght espy. r,-o,n ItOO to 1558.] THE RETURN OF DAVID II. [Andhew Wyntoun. 30 thick tlio Vioti^'liirt and tho leavis prccn BoKhadod all tliu alleys that thoro wore, And niids of cvorj' arbour mi^dit bo seen The Hharpo greeue sweeto junii)cr, Growing ho fair with branches licro and there, That as it seemed to a lyf without, Tho boughis spread the arbour all about. And on tho Bmallo greono tmstis sat, The little swcote nightingale, and Hiing So loud and clear, the hymnis conscorat Of lovis use, now soft, now loud among. That all tho gardens and tho wallis rung Right of their song. * * Cast I down mino eyes again, Where as I saw, walking under tho tower. Full secretly, new comen here to plain, Tho faii-ist or the freshest youngo flower That ever I saw, mcthought, before that hour, For which sudden abate, anon astart, Tho blood of all my body to my heart. And though I stood abasit tho a lite, No wonder was ; for why ? my wittis all Were so ovcrcomo with pleasance and delight. Only through lotting of my eycu fall. That suddenly my heart became her thrall, For ever of free will, — for of menace There was no token in her sweeto face. And in my head I drew right hastily, And cftcsoons I leant it out again. And saw her walk that very womanly. With no wght mo', but only women twain, i Then gan I study in myself, and sayn, " Ah, sweet ! are ye a worldly creature. Or heavenly tiling in likeness of nature ? Or arc ye god Cupidis o^vn princess, And comin are to loose me out of band ? Or are ye very Nature the (loddcss. That have dcpaintedivith your heavenly hand, This garden full of fiotvers as they stand ? What shall I think, alas ! what reverence Shall I mister unto your excellence ? If ye a goddess be, and that ye like To do mo pain, I may it not astart : If yo bo warldly wight, that doth me sike. Why list God make you so, my dearest heart, To do a secly i)risonor this smart. That loves you all, and wot of nought but wo? And therefore morcy, sweet ! sin' it is so." * Of her aiTay tho form if I shall wTito, Towards her golden hair and rich attire, In fretwiso eouchit with poarlis white And gi-oat balas learning as tho fire. With raony ano emeraut and fair sapphire ; And on her head a chaplet fresh of hue, Of plimiis parted red, and white, and blue. Full of quaking spangis bright as gold, Forged of shape like to tho amorets. So new, so fresh, so pleasant to behold, The plumis eke like to the flower jonots ; And other of shape like to the flower jonets ; And above all thin, there woh, well I wot, Beauty cnomjh to make a world to doat. About her neck, white as tho fire amail, A goodly chain of small orfevory, Whereby there hung a ruby, without fail, Like to ano heart shapen verily. That as a spark of low, so wantonly Seemed burning upon her white throat. Now if there was good party, God it wot. And for to walk that fresh May's morrow, Ano hook she had upon her tissue white, That goodlier had not been seen to-forow, As I suppose ; and girt she was alite, Thus halflings loose for haste, to such delight It was to see her youth in goodlihcilo. That for rudeness to speak thereof I dread. In her was youth, beauty, with humble aport, Bounty, riches, and womanly feature, God better wot than my pen can report : Wisdom, largess, estate, and cunning sure. In every point so guided her measure. In word, in deed, in shape, in countenance. That nature might no more her child avance I # # « * And when she walked ha bo Icill, Qiihilo I may luil", l)ut Ictt. Novor to faill, as utheris faill, Onhat grace that ovir I get. Robeno, with the I will not (leill, AdfW ! for thus wo raott. XVI. Makyno went hame blytho aneuchc, Attouro the holtis hair ; Eobono nmrnit, and MakjTie louch, Scho sang, ho sichit sair. And so left hiTn baith wo and wrench, In doloiir and in cair, Kepand his hird under a heuch, Amang the holtis hair. Ituhcrt Hcnrysone. — About 1490. 49. — DINNER GWEN BY THE TOWN MOUSE TO THE COUNTRY MOUSE. * * * their harboury was tane Intill a spenco, where victual was plenty, Baith cheese and butter on lang shelves richt hie, With fish and flesh enough, baith fresh and salt. And pockis full of groats, baith meal and malt. After, when they disposit were to dine, Withouten grace they wuish and went to meat, On every dish that cookmen can divine, Mutton and beef stricken out in tclyies grit ; Ane lordis faro thus can they counterfeit. Except ane thing — they drank the water clear Instead of wine, but yet they made gudc' cheer. With blyth upcast and merry countenance, Tho elder sister then spier' d at her guest, Gif that sho thoucht by reason difference Betwixt that chalmer and her sairy nest. '• Yea, dame," quoth sho, " but how lang wiU this last?" " For evermair, I wait, and langor too ; " " Gif that bo true, yo are at ease," quoth sho. To eik tho chfcr, in plenty furth theybroucht A plate of groatis and a dish of meal, A thrcif of cakes, I trow sho spared them noucht. Abundantly about her for to deal. Furmago full fine sho broncht instead of jcil, A white candle out of a coffer staw. Instead of spico, to crcish their teeth witha'. Thus made they merry, while they micht nao mair. An Hail Yulo, hail ! " they cryit up on hie ; But after joy aftcntinios comes care, And trouble after grit prosperity. Thus as they sat in all their solity, Tho Spenser cam with keyis in his hand. Opened the door, and them at dinner fand. They tarried not to wash, as I suppose, 13ut on to gae, wha micht the foremost win ; Tho burgess had a hole and in sho goes, Her sister had nao place to hide her in ; To SCO that silly mouse it was great sin, Sao desolate and wiM of all gudc rode. For very fear sho full iu swoon, near dead. Then as God wald it fell in happy case, Tho Spenser had nao leisure for to bide, Nowthcr to force, to seek, nor scare, nor chase, But on ho went and cast tho door up-wido. This burgess mouse his passage weel has spied. Out of her hole sho cam and cried on hie, " How, fair sister, cry peep, where'er thou be." The rural mouse lay flatlings on tho ground, And for the doid slio was full dreadand. For till her heart strake mony waeful stound. As in a fever trembling foot and hand ; And when her sister in sic plight her fand, For very ])ity sho began to greet, Syno comfort gave, with words as honey sweet. " Why lie ye thus ? Rise up, my sister dear, Come to your meat, this peril is o'erpast." The other answered with a heavy cheer, I may nought cat, sae sair I am aghast. Lever I had this forty dayis fast. With water kail, and green beans and peas. Then all your feast with this dread and disease. With fair 'treaty, yet gart she her rise ; To board they went, and on together sat. But scantly had they drunken anes or twice. When in cam Gib Hunter, our jolly cat. And bade God speed. The burgess up then gat. And till her hole she fled as fire of flint ; Bawdrons the other by the back has hent. Frae foot to foot he cast her to and frao. While up, while down, as cant as only kid ; While wald he let her run under the strae While wald he wink and play with her buik- hid; Thus to the silly mouse gi-eat harm he did ; While at the last, through fair fortune and hap. Betwixt the di'osser and the wall she crap. Syne up iu haste behind the paneling, Sae hie sho clam, that Gilbert might not get her. And by the cluiks craftily can hing. Till he was gane, her cheer was all the better : Syno down sho lap, when there was nane to let her ; Then on tho burgess mouth loud couth sho cry, " Fareweel sister, hero I thy feast defy. " Thy mangery is minget all with care. Thy guise is gude, thy gane-full sour as gall ; The fashion of thy feris is but fair, So shall then find hcrcafterward may fall. I thank yon curtain, and yon'parpane wall. Of my defence now frao yon cruel beast Almighty God, keep me frae sic a feast ! ^ • Robert Henrysone.] THE GARMENT OF GOOD LADIES. [Second Period.— " Were I into the place that I cam frao, For wecl nor wao I should ne'er come acrain." "With that sho took her leave, ami forth can While through the corn, while through the plain. "VMien she was furth and free she was right fain, And merrily linkit unto the muir, I cannot toll how afterward sho fiirc. But I heard sj-ne she passit to her den, As warm as woo', suppose it was not grit, Full bcinly stuffit was baith butt and ben, AVith peas and nuts, and bcan.s, and rye and wheat ; AVhene'er sho liked, sho had enough of meat, In quiet and ease, withouten [ony] dread, But till her sister's feast nae mair sho gaed. From the Moral. Blissed be simple life, withouten dreid ; Blissed be sober feast in quiete ; "SMia has eneuch of no more has he neid, Though it be little into quantity. Grit abundance, and blind prosperity, Oft timis make ane evil conclusion ; The sweetest life, theirfor, in this country, Is of sickerness, with small possession. Robert Henrysone. — About 1490. 50.— THE GARMENT OF GOOD LADIES. Would my good lady love me best, And work after my will, I should a garment goodliest Gar make her body tUl. Of high honour should be her hood, Upon her head to wear. Garnish' d with governance, so good Na deeming should her deir. Her sark should be her body next, Of chastity so white : With shame and dread together mixt. The same should be perfyte. Her kirtle should be of clean Constance, Lacit with lesum love ; The mailies of continuance, For never to remove. Her gown should be of goodliness, Well ribbon'd with renown ; Purfill'd with j)leasurc in ilk place, Furrit with fine fashioun. Her belt should be of benignity, About her middle meet ; Her mantle of humility, To thole both wind and weit. Her hat should be of fair having. And her tippet of truth ; Her patelet of good pausing, Her hals-ribbon of ruth. Her sleeves should be of csperancc, To keep her fra despair : Her glovis of good governance. To hide her fingers fair. Her shoen should be of sickerness, In sign that she not slide ; Her hose of honesty, I guess^ I should for her provide. Would she put on this garment gay, I durst swear by my seill. That she wore never green nor gray- That set her half so wool. Robert Henrysone. — About 1490. 51.— THE MERLE AND NIGHTINGALE. In May, as that Aurora did upspring, With crystal een chasing the cluddes sable, I heard a Merle with merry notis sing A sang of love, with voice right comfortable. Again' the orient beamis, amiable, Upon a blissful branch of laurel green ; This was her sentence, sweet and delectable, A lusty life in Lovis service been. Under this branch ran down a river bright. Of balmy liquor, crystalline of hue. Again' the heavenly azure skyis light. Where did upon the tother side pursue A Nightingale, with sugared notis new, Whose angel feathers as the peacock shone ; This was her song, and of a sentence true, AH love is lost but upon God alone. With notis glad, and glorious harmony. This joyful merle, so salust she the day, While rung the woodis of her melodj^, Saying, Awake, ye lovers of this May ; Lo, fresh Flora has flourished every spray. As nature has her taught, the noble queen, The field been clothit in a new array ; A lusty life in Lovis service been. Ne'er sweeter noise was heard with li-ving man, Na made this merry gentle nightingale ; Her sound went with the river as it ran. Out through the fresh and flourished lusty vale ; O Merle ! quoth she, O fool ! stint of thy tale, For in thy song good sentence is there none, For both is tint, the time and the travail Of every love but upon God alone. Cease, quoth the Merle, thy preaching. Night- ingale : Shall folk their youth spend into holiness ? Of young Sanctis, grows auld feindis, but table; Fye, hypocrite, in yeiris tenderness, Again' the law of kind thou goes express. That crookit age makes one with youth serene. Whom nature of conditions made diverse : A lusty Life in Lovis service been. I Prom 1400 to 1558.J NO TREASUIIE WITHOUT GLADNESS. [William Dunbar. Tho Nijrhtingalc .«ai(], Fool, remember thee, That both in youth and cild, and every hour, Tho love of God nios^t dear to man huM bo ; Tliat him, of nought, wrought like his own figour, And died himself, fro' dead him to auecour ; O, whotlier was kj-thit there true love or none? Jle is most true and steadfast jiaramour, And love is lost but upon him alone. Tho Merle said, "Why put God so preat beauty In ladies, with sic womanly having, T'.ut gif he would that they suld lovit be ? To love eke nature gave them inclining, And Ho of nature that worker was and king, Would notliing frustir put, nor let be seen, Into his creature of his own making; A lusty life in Lovis service been. The Nightingale said, Not to that behoof Put God sic beauty in a lady's face, That she suld have the thank therefor or luve, lint He, the worker, that put in her sic gi-ace ; Of beauty, bounty, riches, time, or space. And every gudeness that been to come or gone The thank redounds to him in every place : All love is lost, but upon God alone. O Nightingale ! it were a story nice, That love suld not depend on charity ; And, gif that virtue contrar be to vice. Then love maun be a virtue, as thinks me ; For, aye, to love envy maun contrar' be : God bade eko love thy neighbour fro tho spleen ; And who than ladies sweeter neighbours be ? A lusty life in Lo\-i3 scr%"ice been. Tho Nightingale said, Bird, Avhy docs thou rave ? ;Man may take in his lady sic delight. Him to forget that her sic virtue gave, And for his heaven receive her colour white ; Her golden tressit hairis redomite. Like to Apollo's bcamis tho they shone, Suld not him blind fro' love that is perfite ; All love is lost but upon God alone. Tho Merle said, Love is cause of honour aj-e, Love makis cowards manhood to purchase, Love makis knichtis hardy at essay, Love makis \vTetches full of largeness, Love makis sweir folks full of business, Love makis .sluggards fresh and well be seen. Love changes \-ice in virtuous nobleness ; A lusty life in Lovis service been. Tho Nightingale said, True is the contrary ; Sic frustis love it blindis men so far, Into their minds it makis them to vary ; In false vain-glory they so dnmkon are, Their wit is wont, of woe they are not waur, WHiile that all worship away bo fro' them gone. Fame, goods, and strength ; wherefore well say I daur. All love is lost but upon God alone. Then said the Merle, Mine error I confess : This frustis love is all but vanity : Blind ignorance me gave sic hardiness, To argue so again' the verity ; Wherefore I counsel every man that ho With love not in the feindis net be tone. But love the love that did for his lovo die : All lovo is lost but upon God alone. Then sang they both with voices loud and clear, Tho Merle sang, Man, love God that has thee wrought. The Nightingale sang, Man, love tho Lord most dear. That thee and all this world made of nought. The Merle said, Love him that thy love has sought Fro' heaven to earth, and here took flesh and bone. Tho Nightingale sang. And mth his dead thee bought : All love is lost, but upon him alone. Then flew thir birdis o'er the boughis sheen. Singing of lovo amang the leavis small ; Whose eidant plead yet made my thouglitis • grein, Both sleeping, waking, in rest and in travail : Me to recomfort most it does avail, Again for love, when love I can find none. To think how sung this Merle and Nightin- gale ; All love is lost but upon God alone. William Dunbar. — AhoiU 1505. 52.— THE VANITY OF EARTHLY THINGS. This wavering warld's -vvretchednesa Tho failing and fruitless business. The misspent time, the service vain. For to consider is ane pain. The sliding joy, the gladness short. The feigned lovo, the false comfort. The sweir abade, the slightful train, For to consider is ane pain. Tho suggared mouths, with minds therefra, The figured speech, with faces tway ; The pleasing tongues, with hearts unplain. For to consider is ane pain. Williavi Dunhar. — About 1505. 53.— NO TREASURE WITHOUT GLAD- NESS. Be merry, man, and tak nought far in mynd The wavering of this wretched world of sorrow. To God bo humble, to thy friend be kind, William Dunbar.] OF DISCRETION IN GIVING. [Second Period. — And witti thy neighbours gladly lend and borrow ; His chance to-night it may be thine to- moTToyi. Be blythe in heart for ony aventure ; For with wj'sane it hath been said aforrow, Without gladness availeth no treasiire. Mak the gude cheer of it that God thee sends ; For warld's -WTack but weilfaro nought avails, Na gude is thine, save only but thou spends — Remenant aU, thou bruikis but with bails Seek to solace when sadness thee assails, In dolour lang thy life may not endure ; ^\^le^efore of comfort set up all thy sail, Without gladness availi's no treasure. Follow on pity ; flee trouble and debate ; With famous folkis hold thy company. Be charitable and humble in thine estate. For wardly honour lestis but a cry. For trouble in earth take no melancholy ; Be rich in patience, if thou in goods be poor. "Who livis merry he lives mightily ; Without gladness availis no treasure. Williayn Dunlar. — About 1505. 54.— OF DISCRETION IN GIVING. To speak of gifts and almos deeds ; Some gives for merit, and some for meeds ; Some wardly honour to uphie ; Some gives to them that nothing needs ; In Giving sould Discretion be. Some gives for pride and glory vain • Some gives with grudging and with pain ; Some gives on prattick for supplie ; Some gives for twice as gude again : In Giving sould Discretion be. Some gives for thank, and some for threat ; Some gives money, and some gives meat ; Some givis wordis fair and slie ; And gifts fra some may na man treit : In Giving sould Discretion be. Some is for gift sae lang required, AMiile that the craver be so tired, That ere the gift delivered bo, The thank is frustrate and expired ; In Gi\'ing sould Discretion be. Some gives so little full wretchedly, That all his gifts are not set by. And for a hood-pick haldcn is he. That all the warld cries on him, Fye ! In Giving sould Discretion be. Some in his giving is so large, That aU o'erladen is his barge ; Then vice and prodigalitie, There of his honour does discharge : In Giving sould Discretion be. Some to the rich gives his gear, That might his giftis weel forbear ; And, though the poor for fault sould die, His cry not enters in his car : In Giving sould Discretion be. Some gives to strangers with faces new, That yesterday fra Flanders flow ; And to auld servants list not see. Were they never of sae great virtue : In Giving sould Discretion be. Some gives to them can ask and pleinyie. Some gives to them can flatter and feignie ; Some gives to men of honestie. And halds all janglers at disdenyie : In Gilding sould Discretion be. Some gettis gifts and rich arrays, To swear all that his master says. Though all the contrair wool knaws he ; Are mony sic now in thir days : In Gi\'ing sould Discretion be. Some gives to gude men for their thews ; Some gives to trumpoui-s and to shrews ; Some gives to knaw his authoritie. But in their office gude fund in few is ; In Giving sould Discretion be. Some givis parochiaes full wide. Kirks of St. Bernard and St. Bride, The people to teach and to o'ersee, Though he nae wit has them to guide : In Giving sould Discretion be. William Dunhar. — About 1505. 55.— OF DISCRETION IN TAKING. After Giving I speak of Taking, But little of ony gude forsaking ; Some takes o'er little authoritie. And some o'er mickle, and that isglaiking In Taking sould Discretion be. The clerks takes benefices with brawls, Some of St. Peter and some of St. Paul's ; Tak he the rents, no care has he. Suppose the devil tak all their sauls : In Taking sould Discretion be. Barons taks fra the tenants puir All fruit that growis on the fur, In mails and gersoms raisit o'er hie ; And gars them beg fra door to door : In Taking sould Discretion be. Some merchands taks unloosome wine, AVliilk maks their packs oft time full thin, By their succession as ye may see, That ill-won gear 'riches not the kin : In Taking sould Discretion be. Some taks other mennis tacks, And on the puir oppression maks. And never remembers that he maun die, Till that the gallows gars him rax : In Taking sould Discretion be. From 1400 to 1558.] MORNING IN MAY [Gawain Douqlab. Some taks by sea, and some by land, And never fra takinp can hald their hand, Till ho be tyit up to ane tree ; And syne they g'ar him understand, In Taking sould Discretion bo. Some wald tak all his neitfhbour's gear ; Had he of man as little fear As he has dread that God him see ; To tak then sould lie never forbear : In Taking sould Discretion be. Some wald tak all this warld on brcid ; Ajid yet not satisfied of their need. Through heart unsatiable and gicodie ; Some wald tak little, and can not speed : In Taking sould Discretion be. Great men for taking and oppression, Arc set full famous at the Session, And puir takers are haugit hie, Shawit for ever, and their succession : In Taking sould Discretion be. William Dunbar. — About 1505. 56.— THE SHIPWRECK OF THE CARA- VEL OF GRACE. part III. stanza VII. As we bene on the high hills situate, "Look down," quoth she, "conceive in what estate Thy wretched world thou may consider now ! " At her command, ^vith nieiklo dread, God wait, Out ourc the hill sac liideous, high, and strait I blent adown, and felt my body grow : — This brukil earth, sae little tUl allow, Methought I saw burn in a fiery rage Of stormy sea whilk might nac manner 'suage. VIII. That terrible tempest's hideous wallis huge Were maist grislie for to behald or judge. Where neither rest nor quiet might appear ; There was a perilous place folk for to lodge. There was nae help, support, nor yet refuge. Innumerable folk 1 saw flottcrand in fear, "NVhilk perished on the weltering wallis weir. And secondly I saw a lustie barge Ourcset with seas and many a stormj- charge. IX. This goodly Carwell, taiklit traist on raw. With blanched sail, milk-white as ony snaw. Right souer, tight, and wonder strangly beildit. Was on the bairilin wallis quite o'crthraw. Contrariously the blusterous winds did blaw In bubbis thick, that nao ship's sail might wield it. Now sank she low, no^v high to heaven up- heildit ; At every part sae (the) sea windis draif, ^Vhilo on ano sand the ship did burst and claif. X. It was a piteous thing, — alaik, alaik ! To hear the doleful cry when that she straik ; Maist lamentable the perisheil folk to see! Sao famist, drowkit, mait, forwrought, and walk; Some on ane plank of fir-tree, and some of aik ; Some hang upon a takill, some on ano tree ; Some frae their grip soon washen by the sea ; Part drownit, part to the rock fleit or swam On raips or buirds, sj-ne up the hill they clam. XI. Tho at my nymph briefly I did enquire. What signified that fearfiU wonders seir ; " Yon multitude," said slie, " of people drownit. Are faithless folk, whilkis, while they are here, Miskuawis God, and follows their pleseir. Wherefore they shall in endless fire be brint. Yon lusty ship thou sees perished and tint. In whom yon people made ane perilous race, She hccht the Carwell of the state of Grace." XII. Ye bene all born the sons of ire, I guess, SjTie through baptism gets grace and faith- fulness ; Tlien in you Carwell surely ye remain. Oft stormosted ^vith this warld' s bruckleness, "WTiile that ye fall in sin and ■svretchedness. pain, Then ship-broke shall ye dro^\^l in endless Except by faith ye find the plank again, By Christ working good works, I understand ; Remain therewith; thir shall you bring to land. Qawain Douglas. — About 1510. 57.— MORNING IN MAY. As fresh Aurore, to mighty Tithon spouse, Ishcd of her saffron bed and ivor house, In eram'sy clad and grained violate. With sanguine cape, and selvage piu-purate, Unshet the windows of her large hall. Spread all with roses, and fidl of balm royal, And ckc the heavenly portis chrystalline Unwarps braid, the warld till illumine ; The twinkling streamers of the orient Shed purpour spraings, with gold and azure mcnt Eons, the steed, with ruby harness red. Above the seas liftis furth his head. Of colour sore, and somedeal browni as berrj-, For to alichten and glad oiir cmispcry ; Tho flame out-bur^ten at the nei.^thirls. So fast Phaeton ^^•ith the whip him wliirls. * • Gawain Douglas.] MORNING IN MAY. [Second Period. * * their ■While shortly, w-ith the blcczand torch of day Abulyit in his lomand fresh array, Furth of his palace royal ishit Phoebus, "With f^olden crovra and visajro glorious. Crisp hairs, bricht as chrysolite or topaz ; For whase hue inicht nane behald his face The auriate vaues of his throne sovcrane "With plitterand glance o'erspread the oceane ; The largo fludes, lemand all of licht, 33ut with ane blink of his supernal sicht. For to behald. it was ano glore to see The stabled windis, and the calmed sea, The soft season, the firmament serene, The loune illuminate air and firth ameno. * * And lusty Flora did her bloomis spread Under the feet of Phcebus' sulyart-steed ; The swarded soil embrode mth selcouth hues. Wood and forest, obnumbratc with bews. * * Towers, turrets, kirnals, and pinnacles hie, Of kirks, castles, and ilk fair citie, SUide painted, every fane, phiol, and stage. Upon the plain ground by their awn umbrage. Of Eolus' north blasts harand no dreid. The soil spread her braid bosom on-breid ; The corn-crops and the beir new-braird "With gladsome garment revesting the ycrd. * The prai besprent with springand sprouts dispers For caller humours on the dewy nicht Rendering some place the gerse-piles licht ; As far as cattle the lang summer's day Had in their pasture eat and nip away ; And blissful blossoms in the bloomed yerd, Submits their heids to the young sun's safe- guard. Ivy leaves rank o'erspread the barmkin wall ; The bloomed hawthorn clad his pikis all ; Furth of fresh boiurgcons the wine grapes Endland the trellis did on twistis hing ; The loukit buttons on the gemmed trees O'erspreadand leaves of nature's tapestries ; Soft grassy verdure after balmy shouirs. On curland stalkis smiland to their flouirs. * * The daisy did on-breid her crownal small. And every flouer unlappit in the dale. * * Sore downis small on dentilion sprang, The young green bloomed strawberry leaves amang ; Jimp jeryflouirs thereon leaves unshet. Fresh primrose and the purpour violet ; * * Heavenly lilies, with lockerand toppis white, Opened and shew their crestis redcmitc. * * Ane paradise it seemed to draw near Thir galyard gardens and each green hcrboro ;Maist amiable wax the cmeraut meads ; Swarmis souchis through out the respand reeds. Over the lochis and the fludis gray, Searchand by kind ane place where they should lay. Phoebus' red fowl, his cural crest can steer. Oft streikand furth his heckle, crawand clecr. Amid the wortis and the rutis gent Pickand his moat in alleys where he went, His ^\-ivis Toppa and Partolet him by — A bird all-time that hauntis bigamy. The painted powne pacand ynth plumes gym, Kcst up his tail ane proud plosand wheol-rlm, Ishrouded in his feathering bright and sheen, Shapand the prent of Argus' hundred een. Amang the bowis of the olive twists. Sere small fowls, workand crafty nests, Endlang the hedges thick, and on rank aiks Ilk bird rejolcand with their mirthful makes. In corners and clear fenostres of glass. Full busily Arachnc wcavand was, To knit her nettis and hor wobbis slie. Therewith to catch the little midge or flie. So dusty powder npstours in every street, Wliile corby gaspit for the fervent heat. Under the bowis bene in lufely vales, "Within fermance and parkis close of pales. The busteous buckis rakis furth on raw, Herdis of hertis through the thick wood-shaw. The young fawns foUowand the dun daes. Kids, skippand through, runnis after raes. In leisurs and on leyis, little lambs Full tait and trig socht bletand to their dams. On salt streams wolk Dorida and Thetis, _ By rinnand strandis, Nymphis and Naiadis, Sic as we elope wenches and damysels. In gersy graves wanderaud by spring wells ; Of bloomed branches and flowers white and red, Plettand their lusty chaplets for their head. Some sang ring-songes, dances, leids, and rounds. With voices shrill, while all the dale resounds. Whcreso they walk into their caroling. For amorous lays does all the rockis ring. Ano sang, " The ship sails over the salt faem. Will bring the merchants and ray loman hamo.' ' Some other sings, " I will be blythe and licht, My heart is lent upon so goodly wicht." And thoughtful lovers rounis to and fro. To leis their pain, and plein their jolly woe. After their guise, now singand, now in sorrow, With heartis pensive the lang summer's mor- row. Some ballads list indite of his lady ; Some livis in hope ; and some all utterly Dcspairit is, and sae quite out of grace. His purgatory ho finds in every place. * * Dame Nature's monstrals, on that other part Their blissfull lay intoning every art, * * And all small fowlis singis on the spray, Welcome the lord of licht, and lampe of day. Welcome fosterer of tender hcrbis green, AVelcome quickenor of flourist flouirs sheen. Welcome support of every rute and vein, Welcome comfort of all kind fruit and grain, Welcome the birdis bcild upon the brier, Welcome master and ruler of the year, Welcome weelfare of husbands at the plows, Welcome repairer of woods, trees, and bews. Welcome depaiiiter of the bloomit meads. Welcome the life of every thing that spreads. Welcome storcr of all kind bestial, Welcome be thy bricht beamis gladdand all.* * Gawcm,n Douglas. — About 1510. From 1400 to 1558.] DESCRIPTION OF SQUYRE MELDRUM. [Sir David Lyndsay. 58.— GRIEVANCES OF A SCOTTISH PEA- SANT OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. ^a^t2■>cr. My father was an auld man and ano hoar, And was of affc four score (of) years or more. And Maid, my mother, was four score and fifteen. And with my hihour I did them baith sustene. Wo had ano moir that carryit salt and coal, And over ilk year she brought us hamo :inc foal. Wo had throe ky, that was baith fat and fair, Nano tidier into the toun of Ayr. My father was sao waik of bluid and bane That ho deit, wherefore my mother made proat mano ; Then slie doit within ano day or two, And there began my poverty and wo. Our glide grey meir was baitand on the field, And our land's laird took her for his heryield. The vicar took the best cow by the heid Incontinent, when my father was deid. And when the vicar heard tell how that my mother Was deid, fra hand, ho took till him the other. Th(!U Meg, my wife, did murn baith even and morrow. Till at the last she deit for veric sorrow ; And when the vicar heard tell my ^vife was deid. The thrid cow ho cleiket by the head. Their upmost clais, that was of raploch grey. The vicar gart his dark bear them away. When all was gano, I micht mak nao debeat, But with my bairns passed for till beg my meat. Now have I tauld you the black veritie, How I am brocht into this misery. Diligence. How did the parson ? was ho not thy gude freend ? Pa iiper. ho curst mo for my tiend. And halds mo yet under that same process, That part mo want the sacrament at Paschc. In gude faith, Sir, thocht ho wad cut my throat, I have nao gear except ano English gi'oat, Whilk I purpose to give ane man of law. Diligence. Thou art the daftost fulo that e'er I saw. Trows thou, man, by the law to get remeid Of men of kirk y Na, nocht till thou be deid. Paiqjer. Sir, by what law, toll mo, wherefore or why ? That ano vicar should tak fra me throe ky ? Diligence. Thoy have nao law excepting consuetude, Whilk law to them is sfiflBcient and {rudo. Pauper. Ane consuetude aganes the common woil, Should be nao law, I think, by Kwcct Sanct GcUl. Whaur will yo find that law, tell gif ye can, To tak three ky fra ano puir husband man ? Ane for my father, and for my wife ano other. An the thrid cow he took for Maid, my mother. Diligence. It is their law ; all that they have in uso, Thocht it be cow, sow, ganer, gryce, or guso. Paiqyer. Sir I wad speir at you ane question ; Behald some prelates of this region — Diligence. Hald thy tongue, man, it seems that thou were mangit. Speak thou of priests, but doubt, thou will bo hangit. /S'iV David Lyndsay. — Aluut 1520. 59.— THE EXACTIONS AND DELAY OF THE LAW. Panper. I lent my gossop my meir to fetch hamo coals, And he her droun'd into the querrel holes. And I ran to the consistory for to idenye, And there I happened amang ano greedy menye. They gave me first ane thing they call ci- tandum ; Within aucht days I gat but libellandiim ; Within ano month I gat ad opponeAdvm ; In ane half year I gat inter loquendum ; An syne I gat — how call ye it ': — ad ropli- candum; But, I could never ano word yet understand him. An then, they gart mo cast out mony placks, And gart mc pay for four and twenty acts ; But or thoj' camo half gate to concludendum, The ficnt a plack was left for to defend him. Thus they postpon'd mo twa year, with their train, SjTio, Iwdic ad ortn, bade mo come again. An then thir rooks they roupit wonder fast, For sentence silver they cryit at the last. Of pronunciandutn they made mo wonder fain ; But I gat ne'er my gude grcj- meir again. Sir David Lyndsay.— About 1520. 60.— DESCRIPTION OF SQUYTIE MEL- DRUil. Ho was bot twintic yciris of ago, Quehen he began liis vassalage : Proportionat weill, of mid stature : Feirio and \\'icht and micht onduro Sir David Lyndsay.] MELDRUM'S DUEL. [Second Period. — Ovirset Avith travoll both nicht and day, Eicht hardie baith in ernist and play : Bl%'ith in countenance, richt fair of face, And stude weill ay in his latlies grace : For he was wondir aniiabill, And in all deidis honourabiU ; And ay his honour did advance, In Ingland first and syne in France And thare his nianhcid did assaU. Under the kingis great admirall, Quhen the greit navy of Scotland PaSsit to the sea againis Ingland. Sir David Lijndsaij. — About 1520. 6 1.— MELDRUM'S DUEL WITH THE ENGLISH CHAMPION TALBART. Then clariouns and trumpets blew, And weii'iours many hither drew ; On eviry side come mony man To behald wha the battel wan. The field was in the meadow green, Quhare everie man micht weil be seen : The heraldis pat tham sa in order, That na man past within the border. Nor preissit to com within the green, Bot heraldis and the campiouns keen ; The order and the circumstance Wer lang to put in remembrance. Quhen thir twa nobill men of weir Wer Weill accouterit in their geir. And in thair handis strong burdounis. Than trumpcttis blew and clariounis. And heraldis cryit hie on hicht, Now let thame go — God shaw the richt. # * * # # Than trumpettis blew triumphantly. And thay twa campiouns cagerlie, Theyspurrit their hors with spcironbreist, Pertly to prief their pith they preist. That round rink-room was at utterance, Bot Talbart's hors with ane mischance H < outterit, and to run was laith ; C^uharof Talbart was wonder wraith. The Squyer furth his rink he ran, Coramendit weill with every man, And him discharget of his spcir Honestlie, like ane man of weir. ***** The trenchour of the Squyreis speir Stak still into Sir TalVjart's geir ; Than everie man into that steid Did all beleve that he was dede. The Squyer lap richt haistUlie From his coursour deliverlie, And to Sir Talbart made support, And humillie did him comfort. When TalVjart saw into his schield Ane otter in ane silver field, This race, said he, I sair may rew, For I see weill my dreame was true ; Methocht yon otter gart me bleid. And buir me backwart from my sted ; But heir I vow to God soverane, That I sail never just agane. And sweitlie to the Squiyre said, Thou knawis the cunning that wc made, Quhilk of us twa suld tyne the field. He suld baith hors and armour j'ield Till him that wan, quhaii-fore I will My hors and harness geve the till. Then said the Squyer, courteouslie, Brother, I thank you hartfullie ; Of you, forsooth, nothing I crave. For I have gotten that I would have. Sir David Lyndsay. — About 1520. 62.— CHRIST COMING TO JUDGMENT. As fireflaucht hastily glancing, Descend shall the maist heavenly King. As Phoebus in the orient Lightens in haste the Occident, Sae pleasandly he shall ai)pear Amang the heavenly cluddis clear. With great power and majesty. Above the country of Judie ; As clerkis doth conclude in halll, Direct above the lusty vale Of Josaphat and Mount Olivet : All prophecy there shall complete. The angels of the orders nine En\dron shall that throne Divine With heavenly consolation, Making him ministration. In his presence there shall be borne The signs of cross and crown of thorn, Pillar, naillis, scourgis, and spear. With everilk thing that did him deir. The time of his grim passion ; And, for our consolation, Ajipear shall, in his hands and feet And in his side, the print complete Of his five woundis precious, Sliining like rubies radious. Sir David Lyndsay. — About 1520. 63.— TO MISTRESS MARGARET HUSSEY. Mcri-y Margaret, As midsummer flower, Gentle as falcon. Or hawk of the tower ; With solace and gladness. Much mirth and no madness. All good and no badness ; So joyously. So maidenly. So womanlj% Her demeaning. In everything. Far, far passing That I can indite. Or suffice to write. Of merry Margaret, As midsummer flower, Gentle as falcon Or hawk of the tower ; From 1400 to 1558.] NO AGE CONTENT. [Howard, E. of SuHKEt. As patient and as still, And as full of goodwill, As fair Isiphil, C'oliandcr. Sweet Pomander, Good Cassander ; Stedfast of thought, AN'oU made, woU \vT0uj.'lit Yivc may be Kought, Kre you can find So courteous, sc kind. As morry Margaret, This midsummer flower. Gentle as falcon, Or hawk of the tower. John Skelton.— About 1520. 64.— IMPRISONED IN WINDSOR, HE RE- COUNTETH HIS PLEASURE THERE PASSED. So eruel prison how could betide, alas ! As i)roud Windsor ? Where I in lust and joy, With a king's son. my childish years did pass, In greater feast than Pi-iam's sons of Troy ; Wliere each sweet place returns a taste full sour. The largo green coui-ts, where we were wont to rove, With eyes upcast unto the maiden's tower. And easy sighs, such as folk draw in love. The stately seats, the ladies bright of hue, The dances short, long tales of great delight ; With words and looks that tigers coidd but rue, "When each of us did plead the other's right. The palm play, where dosported for the game, With dazed eyes oft we, by gleams of love, Have miss'd the ball, and got sight of our dame. To bait her eyes, which kept the leads above. The gravell'd ground, with sleeves tied on the helm. On foaming horse \vith swords and friendly hearts ; With cheer as though one shoidd another whelm , ■^^^lere we have fought, and chased oft with darts. With .■silver drops the meads yet spread for ruth ; In active games of nimbleness and strength, Where we did strain, trained with swarms of youth. Our tender limbs that yet shot up in length. The secret groves, which oft we made rosomid Of pleasant plaint, and of our ladies' praise ; Recording oft what grace each one had found, What hojio of speed, what dread of long delays. The wild forist, the clothed holts with green ; With reins avail'd, and swift ybreathod horse, With cry of hounds, and merry blasts between, "NMicro we did chase the fearful hart of force. The void walls eke that harbour' d us each night : Wherewith, alas ! revive ^vithin my breast The sweet accord, siich sleeps as yet delight ; The pleasant dreams, the quiet bed of rest ; The secret thoughts, imparted with Buch trust ; The wanton talk, the divers change of play ; The friendship sworn, each promise kept so just. Wherewith we past the winter nights away. Ami with this thought the blooi forsakes the face ; The tears berain my cheeks of deadly hue : The which, as soon as sobbing sighs, alaa ! Upsujiped have, tlius 1 my plaint renew : place of bliss ! renewer of my woes ! Give me account, where is my noble fure r Whom in thy walls thou didst each night enclose ; To other lief : but mito me most dear. Echo, alas ! that doth my sorrow rue, Eetui-ns thereto a hollow sound of jjlaint. Thus I alone, where all my freedom grew. In prison pine, with bondage and restraint : And with remembrance of the greater grief. To banish the less, I find my chief relief. lloa-anl, Earl of Surrey. — About 1535. 65._XO AGE CONTENT WITH HIS OWN ESTATE. Laid in my quiet bed. In study as I were, I saw within my troubled head, A heap of thoughts appear. And every thought did show So lively in mine eyes, Tliat now I sighed, and then I smiled, As cause of thoughts did rise. I saw the little boy. In thought how oft that he Did wish of God, to scape the rod, A tall young man to be. The young man eke that feels His bones with pains opprest, How he would bo a rich old man, To live and lie at rest : The rich old man that sees His end draw on so sore. How he woidd be a boy again. To live so much the more. Whereat full oft I smiled. To see how all these three. From boy to man, from man to boy. Would chop and change degree : And musing thus, I think. The case is very strange. That man from wealth, to live in woo, Doth ever seek to change. Thus thoughtful as I lay, I saw my withered skin, Kow it doth show my dented thews, The flesh was worn so thin : Howard, E. of Surrey.] TO ATTAIN HAPPY LIFE. [Second Period.' And eke my toothless? chaps, The gates of my right way, That opes and shuts as I do speak, Do thus unto mo say : The white and hoarish hairs, The messengers of age. That show, like lines of true belief, That this life doth assuage ; Bids thee lay hand, and feel Them hanging on ray chin. The which do write two ages past, The third now coming in. Hang up, therefore, the bit Of thy young wanton time ; And tliou that therein beaten art. The happiest life define : "Whereat I sighed, and said, Farewell my wonted joy, Truss up thy pack, and trudge from mo, To every little boy ; And tell them thus from me. Their time most happy is, If to their time they reason had, To know the truth of this. Howard, Earl of Surrey. — About 1535. 66.— THE MEANS TO ATTAIN HAPPY LIFE. Martial, the things that do attain The happy life, be these, I find. The riches left, not got with pain ; The fruitful ground, the quiet mind, The equal friend ; no grudge^ no strife, No charge of rule, nor governance ; Without disease, the healthful life ; The household of continuance : The mean diet, no delicate fare ; True wisdom joined -with simpleness ; The night discharged of all care ; Where wine the wit may not oppress. The faithful wife, without debate ; Such sleeps as may beguile the night ; Contented vnth thine own estate, Ne ^vish for death, ne fear his might. Howard, Earl of Surrey. — About 1535. 67.— DESCEIPTION OF SPEING. The soote season, that bud and bloom forth brings, With green hath clad the hill, and eke the vale. The nightingale with feathers new she sings ; The turtle to her make hath told her tale. Summer is come, for every spray now springs. The hart hath hung his old head on the pale ; The buck in brake his winter coat he flings ; The fishes fleet with new repaired scale ; The adder all her slough away she flings -, The swift swallow pursucth the flies small ; The busy bee her honey now she mings ; Winter is worn that was the flower's bale. And thus I see among these pleasant things Each care decays, and yet my sorrow springs. Howard, Earl of Surrey. — About 1535. 68. — HOW EACH THING, SAVE THE LOVEE, IN SPEING EEVIVETH TO PLEASUEE. "When Windsor walls sustain'd my wearied arm; My hand my chin, to ease my restless head ; The pleasant plot revested green mth warm ; The blossom'd boughs ttdtli lusty ver yspread ; The flower'd meads, the wedded birds so lato INIine eyes discover ; and to my mind resort The jolly woes, the hateless short debate, The rakehcU life that longs to love's disport. "Wherewith, alas ! the heavy charge of care Hcap'd in my breast, breaks forth against my will In smoky sighs that overcast the air. My vapour' d eye such dreary tears distil, The tender green they quicken where they fall ; And I half bend to throw mo down mtlial. Hoivard, Earl of Surrey. — Aboiit 1535. 69.— DESCEIPTION AND PEAISE OF HIS LOUE GEEALDINE. From Tuskane came my ladies worthy race : Faire Florence was sometime her auncient seate The western y\e, whose plesant shore doth face "Wilde Cambers clifs, did gyve her liuely heate : Fostred she was with milko of Irish brest ; Her sire, an Erie ; her dame of princes blood ; From tender yeres, in Britain she doth rest With klnges childe, where she tasteth costly fool. Honsdon did first present her to mine yien ; Bright is her hcwe, and Geraldine she hight ; Hampton me taught to wishe her first for mine : And Windsor, alas, doth chase me from her sight. Her beauty of kind, her vertues from aboue ; Happy is he, that can obtaine\or loue ! Howard, Earl of Surrey. — About 1535. 70.— A VOW TO LOUE. Set me whereas the sunne doth parche the grene. Or where his beames do not dissolue the yse i In temperate heate where he is felt and sene : In presence prest of people maddo or wise ; From 1400 to 1558.] THE LOVER'S LUTE. [SiE Thomas Wyat. Set me in hyo, or yet in low degree ; In longest nij,'ht, or in the shortest daye : In clearest skie, or whore cloude.s thickest be ; In lusty youth, or when my hceres are prayc : Set me in heauen, in earth, or els in hell, In hyll or dale, or in the foming flood, Thrall, or at larg'o, aliue wheroso I dwell, Sicke or in health, in onill fame or pood : Hers will I bo, and onely with this thouj^'ht Content my self, although my chauiicc be nought. Howard, Earl of Surrey. — About 1535. 71.— A LOVER'S COMPLAINT. I never sawc my Ladyo lave apart. Her cornet blackc, in coldo nor j-ct in hcate, Sith fjTst she know my griefe was growen so groato ; ■\Vhiche other fansies driueth from my hart That to my self I do the thought reseruc. The which iinwarcs did wound my woeful brcst : But on her face mine eyes mought nouer rest : Yet sins she knew I did her louc and scrue. Her golden tresses cladde alway with blackc ; Her smyling lokes that hid thus eucrmore. And that rcsti-aines whiche I desire so sore : So dothe thys coi'uet goucrne me alacko ; In somer, sunne : in winters breathe, a froste : "W'hcrby the light of her fairo lokes I lost. Howard, Earl of Surrey. — About 1535. 2. — THE LOVER COMPLAINETH OF THE UNKINDNESS OF HIS LOVE. My lute, awake ! perform the last Labour that thou and I shall waste. And end that I have now begun ; For when this song is sung and past, My lute bo still, for I have done. As to be heard where ear is none, As lead to gi-avo in marble stone. My song may pierce her heart as soon : Shoidd wo then sing, or sigh, or moan ? No, no, my lute ! for I have done. The rocks do not so cruelly Repulse the waves continually. As she my suit and affection ; So that 1 am past remedy ; "Whereby my lute and I have done. Proud of the spoil that thou hast got Of simple hearts, thorough Love's shot, By whom, nnkind 1 thou hast them won : Think not he hath his Ixpw forgot. Although my lute and I have done. Vengeance shall fall on thy disdain, That mak'st but game of earnest pajTic. Think not alone under the sun, Umiuit the cause thy lovers plaine, Although my lute and I have done. May chance thee lye withred and old, In winter nights that are so cold, Playning in vain imto the moon ; Tliy wishes then dare not be told ; Care then who list ! for I have done. And then may chaunce thee to repent The time that thou hast lost and spent, To cause tliy lovers sigh and swoon ; Then shalt thou know beauty but lent, And wish and want, as I have done. Now cease, my lute ! this is the last Labour that thou and I shall waste, And ended is that I begun ; Now is this song both sung and past ; My lute I be still, for I have done. Sir Thomas Wyat. — About 1535. 73.— THE LOVER'S LUTE CANNOT BE BLAMED, THOUGH IT SING OF HIS L^U)YS UNKINDNESS. Blame not my Lute ! for he must sound Of this or that as liketh me ; For lack of wit the Lute is bound To give such tunes as pleaseth me ; Though my songs be somewhat strange. And speak such words as touch my change, Blame not my Lute ! My Lute, alas ! doth not offend. Though that per force he must agree To sound such tunes as I intend. To sing to them that heareth me ; Then tliougli my songs be somewhat plain. And toucheth some that use to feign. Blame not my Lute I My Lute and strings may not deny, But as I strike they must obey ; Break not them then so wrongfidly. But wreak thyself some other way ; And though the songs whii-h I indite. Do quit thy change with rightful spite. Blame not my Lute ! Spite asketli spite, and changing change. And falsed faith, must needs be kno^^^l ; The faults so great, the case so strange ; Of right it must abroad bo blo^vn ; Then since that by thine ovra desert My songs do tell how true thou art, Blame not my Lute ! Blame but thyself that hast misdono, And well deserved to have blame ; Change thou thy waj-, so evil begone. And then mj- Lute shall soimd that same j But if till then my fingers play, By thy desert their wonted way. Blame not my Lute I SiE Thomas Wtat.] THE EE-CURED LOVER EXULTETH. [Second Period.— Farewell ! nnknown ; for though thou break My strings in spite with great disdain, Yet have I found out for thy sake, Strings for to string my Lute again : And if perchance this silly rhyme. Do make thee blush at any time, Blame not my Lute ! Sir Tlwmas Wyat— About 1535. 74.— THE RE-CURED LOVER EXULTETH IX HIS FREEDOM, AND VOWETH TO REMAIN FREE UNTIL DEATH. I am as I am, and so will I be ; But how that I am none knoweth truly. Be it ill, be it well, be I bond, be I free, I am as I am, and so ■will I be. I lead my life indifferently ; I mean nothing but honesty ; And though folks judge full diversely, I am as I am, and so will I die. I do not rejoice, nor yet complain. Both mirth and sadness I do refrain. And use the means since folks will feign ; Yet I am as I am, be it pleasant or pain. Divers do judge as they do trow, Some of pleasure and some of woe. Yet for all that nothing they know ; But I am as I am, wheresoever I go. But since judgers do thus decay, Let every man his judgment say ; I will it take in sport and play. For I am as I am, whosoever say nay. Who judgeth well, well God them send ; Who judgeth evil, God them amend ; To judge the best therefore intend. For I am as I am, and so will I end. Yet some there be that take delight. To juilge folk's thought for en\'y and spite ; But Wiiether they judge me wf ong or right, I am as I am, and so do I write. Praying you all that this do read. To tru.st it as you do your ci-eed ; And not to think I change my weed, For I am as I am, however I speed. But how that is I leave to you ; Judge as ye list, false or true, Ye know no more than afore yo knew. Yet I am as I am, whatever ensue. And from this mind I will not flee. But to j'ou all that misjudge me, I do protest, as ye mcy see, That I am as I am, and so will be. Sir Tluymas Wyat.— About 1535. 75.— THAT PLEASURE IS MIXED WITH EVERY PAIN. Venomous thorns that are so sharp and keen Bear flowers, we see, full fresh and fair of hue. Poison is also put in medicine, And unto man liis health doth oft renew. The fire that all things eke consumeth clean, May hurt and heal : then if that this bo true, I trust some time m3' harm may bo my health, Since every woe is joined Avith somo wealth. Sir Thomas Wyat. — About 1535. 76.— A DESCRIPTION OF SUCH A ONE AS HE WOULD LOVE. A face that should content me wondrous well. Should not be fair, but lovely to behold With gladsome cheer, all grief for to expell ; With sober looks so would I that it should Speak without words, such words as none can tell; The tress also should be of crisped gold. With wit and these, might chance I might be tied, Ajid kait again with knot that should not slide. Sir Thomas Wyat.— About 1535. 77._AN EARNEST SUIT TO HIS UNICTND MISTRESS NOT TO FORSAKE HIM. And wilt thou leave me thus ? Say nay ! say nay ! for shame ! To save thee from the blame Of all my grief and grame. And wilt thou leave me thus ? Say nay ! say nay ! And wilt thou leave me thus ? That hath lov'd thee so long ? In wealth and woo among : And is thy heart so strong As for to leave me thus ? Say nay ! say nay ! And wilt thou leave me thus ? That hath given thee my heart. Never for to depart. Neither for pain nor smai-t. And wilt thou leave me thus ? Say nay ! say nay ! And wilt thou leave me thus ? And have no more pity Of him that lovoth thee ; Alas ! thy cruelty ! And wilt thou leave me thus ? Say nay ! say nay ! Sir Thomas Wyat. — About 1535. From 1400 to 1558.] INTRODUCTION TO BOOK OF HTSBANDRY. [Thomas Tussee. 78.— TO HIS MISTRESS. Forget not yet the tried intent Of such a truth as I have meant ; My great travail so glavith good pot-herbs, should follow the plough. Get water of fumitory, liver to cool, And others the like, or else lie like a fool. Conserves of barbary, (luinces, and such, With sirops, that eascth the sickly so much. Ask Mcdicus' counsel, ere medicine yo take, And honour that man for necessity's sake. Though thousands hate physic, because of the cost, Yet thousands it hclpcth, that else should be lost. Good broth, and good keeping, do much now and than : Good diet, with wisdom, best comforteth man. In health, to bo stirring shall profit thee best ; In sickness, hate trouble ; seek quiet and rest. Remember thy soul ; let no fancy prevail ; Make rcatly to God-ward ; let faith never quail : The sooner thyself thou submittest to God, The sooner ho ceaseth to scoui-go with his rod. Tkomas Tusser. — About 1557. 86.— GOOD HUSBANDLY LESSONS, Worthy to be followed 0/ such as xuould thrive. CHAP. X. 1. God eendcth and givcth, both mouth and the meat. And blesseth us all with his benefits great: Then servo wo the God, v.'ho so richly doth give. Shew love to our neighbours, and lay for to live. 2. As bud, by appearing, bctok'neth the spring. And leaf, by her falling, the contrary thing ; So youth bids us labour, to get as we can, For ago is a burden to labouring man. 3. A competent living, and honestly had. Makes such as are godly, both thankful and glad : Life, never contented, ^N-ith honest estate, Lamented is oft, and repented too late. 4. Count never well gotten, what naughty is got, Nor well to account of, which honest is not : Look long not to prosper, that weighest not this, Lest prospering failcth, and all go amiss. 5. True wedlock is best, for avoiding of sin ; The bed undofilcd, much honour doth win : Though love bo in choosing, far better than gold, Let love come with somewhat, the better to hold. G. Where couples agree not, is rancour and strife. Whore such bo together, is seldom good life; ■\\linre couples in wedlock do lovely agree, There f oison remainoth, if wisdom there bo. 7. "VMio lookcth to marry, must lay to keep house. For love may not alv,-ay be plaj-ing ^vith douse ; If children increase, and no stay of thino own, "What afterward follows is soon to bo known. 8. Once charged with children, or likely to bo, Give over to sojourn, that thiukcst to thee ; 5 Thoiias Tusser.] GOOD HUSBANDLY LESSONS. [Second Period. Lest grndging of hostess, and craving of nivrse, Be costly and noisomo to thee and thy purse. 0. Good husbands that lovcth good houses to keep. Are oftentimes careful when others do sleep : To spend as they may, or to stop at the first. For running in danger, or fear of the worst. 10. Go count with thy coffers, when harvest is in, "WTiich way for thy profit to save or to win : Of t'one or them both, if a savour we smell, House-keeping is godly, wherever we dwell. 11. Son, think not thy money, purse bottom to burn. But keep it for profit, to serve thine own turn : A fool and his money be soon at debate, AVhich after, with sorrow, repents him too late. 12. Good bargain adoing, make privy but few, In selling, refrain not, abroad it to shew : In making, make haste, and away to thy pouch. In selling, no haste, if ye dare it avouch. 13. Good landlord, who findeth, is blessed of God,— A cumbersome landlord is husbandman's rod; He noyeth, destroyeth, and all to this drift. To strip his poor tenant of farm and of thrift. ,14. Eent-com, whoso payeth, (as worldlings would have, So much for an acre) must live like a slave ; Eent-com to bo paid, for a reas'nable rent. At reas'nable prices, is not to lament. 15. Once placed for profit, look never for ease. Except ye beware of such michers as these, — TJnthriftiness, Slothfulness, Careless and Hash, That thrusteth thee headlong, to run in the lash. 10. Make Money thy drudge, for to follow thy work. Make Wisdom comptroller, and Order thy clerk : Provision cater, and Skill to bo cook. Make Steward of all, pen, ink, and thy book, 17. Make hunger thy sauce, as a med'cine for health. Make thirst to bo butler, as physic for wealth : Make eye to be usher, good usage to have, Make bolt to be porter, to keep out a knave. 18. Make husbandry bailiff, abroad to pro\'ide. Make huswifery daily, at home for to guide : Make coffer, fast locked, thy treasure to keep. Make house to be siier, the safer to sleep. 19. Make bandog thy scoutwatch, to bark at a thief, Make courage for life, to be capitain chief : Make trap-door thy bulwark, make beU to be gin, IMake giinstono and arrow, shew who is within. 20. The credit of master, to brothel his man, And also of mistress, to minikin Nan, Be causers of opening a number of gaps. That letteth in mischief, and many mishaps. 21. Good husband he trudgeth to bring in tho gains. Good huswife she drudgoth, refusing no pains. Though husband at home, bo to count, ye wot what, Tet huswife, within, is as needful as that. 22. What helpeth in store, to have never so much. Half lost by ill usage, ill huswives and such ? So, twenty load bushes, cut down at a clap, Such heed may be taken, shall stop but a , gap. 20. A retcheless servant, a mistress that scowls, A ravening mastiff, and hogs that eat fowls, A giddy brain master, and stroyall his knave, Brings ruling to ruin, and thrift to her grave. 24. With some upon Sundays, their tables do reek. And half the week after, their dinners do seek. Not often exceeding, but always enough, Is husbandly fare, and the guise of the plough. 25. Each day to bo feasted, what husbandry worse. Each day for to feast, is as HI for the purse ; Yet measurely feasting, with neighbours among, Shall make thee beloved, and live the more long. 2G. Things husbandly handsome, let workman contrive. But build not for glory, that thinkest to thrive ; WTio fondly in doing, consumeth his stock. In the end for his folly, doth get but a mock. From 1400 to 1558.] GOOD HUSBANDLY LESSONS. [TUOMAS TUSSEB. 27. Spend none but your own, howsoever ye spend, For bribing and sliifting have Bcldom good end : In substance although yo have never so much. Delight not in parasites, harlots, and such. 28. Bo siicrty seldom, (but never for much) For fear of x)urso, pennyless, hanging by such ; Or Scarhnrow warning, as ill I believe. When, (Sir, I arrest ye !) gets hold of thy sleeve. 29. Use (legem pone) to pay at thy day, But use not (orefnus) for often delay : Yet (pnrsta qvcrsumus) out of a grate, Of all other collects, the lender doth hate. 30. Bo pinched by lending, for kiffo nor for kin, Nor also by spending, by such as come in ; Nor put to thine hand, betwixt bark and the tree. Lest through thine own foUy, so pinched thou be. 31. As lending to neighbour, in time of his need, "Wins love of thy neighbour, and credit doth breed ; So never to crave, but to live of thine o^vn. Brings comforts a thousand, to many un- known. 32. Who living but lends ? and be lent to they must. Else buying and selling must lie in the dust : But shameless and crafty that desperate are. Make many, full honest, the worser to fare. 33. At some time to borrow, account it no shame, If justly thou keepest thy touch for the same : "Who quick bo to borrow, and slow bo to pay, Their credit is naught, go they never so gay. 3i. By shifting and borrowing, who so as lives. Not well to be thought on, occasion gives: Then lay to live warily, and wisely to spend ; For prodigall livers have seldom good end. 35. Some sparoth too late, and a number with him, — Tlio fool at the bottom, the wise at the brim : "WTio careth, nor spareth, till spent he hath all, Of bobbing, not robbing, be fearful he shaU. 3C. "Where wealthiness floweth, no friendBhip can lack, ■\\niom poverty pincheth, hath freedom as slack : Tljon happy is he, by example that cau Take heed by the fall, of a mischieved man. 37. Who breaketh his credit, or cracketh it twice, Trust such with a euerty, if ye be wise : Or if he be angry, for asking thy due, Once even, to him afterward, lend not anew. 38. Account it well sold, that is justly well paid. And count it well bought, that is never denaid ; But yet here is t'onc, here is t'other doth best. For buyer and seller, for quiet and rest. 39. Leave princes' affaires, undesscanted on, And tend to such doings as stands thee upon : Fear God, and offend not the prince, nor his laws. And keep thyself out of the magistrate's claws. 40. As interest, or usury playeth the devil. So hil-back and fil-belly biteth as evil : Put dicing among them, and docking the deU, And by and by after, of beggary smell. 41. Once weekly, remember thy charges to cast. Once monthly, see how thy expences may last : If quarter declareth too much to be spent. For fear of ill year, take advice of thy rent. 42. Wlio orderly cnt'reth his payments in book, May orderly find them again, (if he look :) And he that intendeth, but once for to pay, Shall find this in doing, the quietest way. 43. In dealing uprightly, this counsel I teach. First reckon, then \vTite, ere to purse ye do reach ; Then pay and dispatch him, as soon as ye can. For ling' ring is hindcxance, to many a man. 44. Have weights, I advise thee, for silver and gold. For some be in knavery, now a-days bold ; And for to be siier, good money to jiay. Receive that is current, as near as ye may. 45. Delight not, for pleasure, two houses to keep, Lest charge, without measure, upon thee do creep ; And Janl-in and Jcny'ki:i cozen thee so, To make thee repent it, ere year nbont go. Thoilvs Tusser.] good HUSBANDLY LESS0X3. [ Second Period.— 46. Tlio stone that is rolling, can gather no 55. Good wife and good children arc worthy moss. to cat. VV ho often removeth is siier of loss : Good servant, good labourer, earneth their The rich it compellcth, to pay for his meat ; pride. Good fellow, good neighbour, that fellowly The poor it undoeth, on every side. guest. With heartile welcome, should have of the 47 The eye of the master enrichoth the hutch, The eye of the mistress availeth as much ; best. AVhicli eve, if it govern, with reason and slcUl,' 5G. Depart not with all that thou hast to thy child. Hath servant and service, at pleasure and Much less unto other, for being beguil'd : -i\-ill. Lest if thou wouldst gladly jjossess it 48 "Who sccketh rovengemont of every wrong, again, Look, for to come by it, thou wettest not In quiet nor safety, continucth long : when. So ho that of wilfulness, trieth the law. Shall strive for a coxcomb, and thrive as 57. The greatest preferment that child wo can a daw. give Is learning and nurture, to train him to 40 To himters and hawkers take hoed what live; ye say. Which whoso it wantcth, though left as a Mild answer with courtesy, drives them squire, away ; Consumeth to nothing, as block in the fire. So where a man's better will open a gap. 58 When God hath so blest thee, as able to live. Eesist not with rudeness, for fear of mis- And thou hast to ro.st thee, and able to hap. give ; 50 A man in this world, for a chm-1 that is kno'wn, Lament thy offences, serve God for amends. Make soul to be ready, when God for it Shall hardly in quiet, keep that is his own : sends. Where lowly, and such as of courtesy 59 Send fruits of thy faith to heaven, afore- smells. hand. Finds favour and friendship, wherever ho For mercy here doing, God blesscth thy dwells. land ; 51 Keep truly thy Sabbath, the better to He maketh thy store with his blessing to s-\vim, speed ; Keep servant from gadding, but when it And after, thy soul to be blessed with him. is need : GO Some lay to get riches, by sea and by land. Keep fish-day and fasting-day, as tlicy do And vent'reth his life, in his enemies hand; faU, And setteth his soul upon six or on seven. What custom thou keepest, let others Not caring nor fearing, for hell nor for keep all. heaven. 52 Though some in their tithing, be slack or Gl Some pincheth and spareth, and pineth too bold, his life. Be thou unto Godward, not that way too To coffer up bags, for to leave to his wife ; cold : And she (when he dieth) sets open the Evil conscience grudgeth, and yet we do chest. see. For such as can soothe her, and all away HI tithers, ill thrivers most commonly be. wrest. 53 Pay weekly thy workman, his houshold G2 Good husband preventing the frailness of to feed, some. Pay quarterly servants, to buy as they Takes part of God's benefits, as they do need : come : Give garment to such as deserve, and no And leveth to wife and his children the mo. Lest thou and thy wife, without garment Each one his own part, as ho thinketh it do go. best. 6-4 . Beware raskabilia, — slothful to work. 03 These lessons approved, if wisely ye note. Purloiners and filchers, that loveth to May save and advantage ye, many a lurk: groat; Away -rt-ith such lubbers, so loth to take ■\Vhicli if ye can follow, occasion found. pain, Then every lesson may save ye a pound. That roUs in expences, but never no gain. Thomas Tusser. — Ahout 1557. From 1400 to 1558.] POSIES FOR THII^ OWN BED-CHAMBER. [Thomas Tussee. 87.— THE TVTNDS. CHAP. XIII. North winds sond hail, South winds bring rain, East winds wo bewail, West \%'inds blow amain : North-east i.-? too cold, South-cast not too warm. North-west is too bold, South-west doth no harm. Tlio North in a noyer to grass of all suites, The' East a destro3'er to herb and all fruits ; The South, vith his showers, rcfroiheth the corn. The West, to all flowers, may not bo for- borne. The "West, as a father, all goodness doth bring, The East, a forbearer no manner of thing : The South, as unkind, draweth sickness too near, The North, as a friend, maketh all again clear. With temperate wind, wo bo blessed of God, With tempest wo find, wo are beat with his rod : All power, wo know, to remain in his hand. How ever mnd blow, by sea or by land. Though winds do rage, as winds were wood, And cause spring tides to raise great flood. And lofty ships leave anchor in mud Bereaving many of life, and of blood ; Yet true it is, as cow chews cud, Ajid trees, at spring, do yield forth bud, Exceiit wind .stands, as never it stood, It is an ill wind turns none to good. Tliomas Tusscr. — About 1557. SS.— A CHRISTMAS CAROL. CHAP. XXXI. 1. Was not Christ our Saviour, Sent to us fro God above ? Not for our pood behaviour. But only of his mercy and love. If this be true, as true it is. Truly in deed Great thanks to God to yield for this. Then had we need. 2. This did our God, for very troth. To train to him the soul of man. And justly to j)erform his oath. To Sar.ah and to Abram than That through his seed all nations should Most blessed bo : As in duo time, perform ho would, As now V.-0 see. 3. Which wondrously is brought to paaa, And in our siglit already done, By sending, as lii.s promise was, (To comfort us) his only Son, Even Christ, I mean, that virgin's child, In Bethlem Ijom, That lamb of God, tliat prophet mild, With crowned thorn. 4. Such was his love to save us all, From dangers of the curse of God, That wo stood in l)y Atlam's fall, And by our o^vn deserved rod. That through his blood and holy namo Who so believes, Anil fly from sin, and abhors the same, Free mercy he gives. 5. For these glad news this feast doth bring. To God the Son and Holy Ghost, Let man give thanks, rejoice and sing, From world to world, from coast to coast, For aU good gifts so many ways. That God doth send. Let us in Christ give God the praise. Till life shaU end. At Christmas bo merry, and thankful ^^thaU, And feast thy poor neighbours, the great •with the small ; Yea all the year long, to the poor let iis give, God's blessing to follow us, whiles we do live. Tliomas Tusscr. — About 1557. 89.— POSIES FOR THIKE OWIv BED- CHAMBER. 1. WTiat wisdom more, what better life, than pleaseth God to send, What worhily goods, what longer use, than pleaseth God to lend ? 2. TMiat better fare, than well content, agree- ing with thy wealth. What better guest than trusty friend, in sickness and in health ? 3. What better bed than conscience good, to pass the night with sleep, Wliat better work, than daily care, from sin thyself to keep ? 4. WTiat better thought, than think on God, and dail^' him to serve, Wliat better gift than to the poor, that ready bo to sterve ? 5. T\liat greater praise of God and man, than mercy for to show, AMio merciless, shall mercy find, that mercy shows to few ? 6. What worse despair, than loth to die, for fear to go to hoU ? WTiat greater faith than trust in God, through Christ in heaven to dwell ? Thom(s Tusscr. — About 1557. E. Edwards.] AMAXTIUM IE^ AIMOEIS EEDINTEGEATIO EST. [Second Period. 90.— PEIXCIP-VL POINTS OF EELIGION. 4. 5. G. I . 8. 9. 10. 11. 1-2. 13. 14. 15. 10. 17. 18. 19. 20. To pray to God continually, To learn to know him riglitfullj', To honour God in Trinitj', The Ti-inity in Unity, The Father in his majesty, The Son in his humanity. The Holy Ghost's benignity, Three persons, one in Deity. To serve him always, holily. To ask him all thing needfully, To praise him in all company, To love him alway, heartily, To dread him alway christianly. To ask him mercy, penitently. To trust him alway, faithfully. To obey him, alway, willingly, To abide him alway, patiently, To thank him alway, thankfully. To live hero alway, virtuously. To use thy neighbour, honestly. To look for death still, presently. To help the poor, in misery. To hope for Heaven's felicity. To have faith, hope, and charity, To count this life but vanity, Bo points of Christianity. Tlwmas Tusser. — About 1557. 91.— AJilAXTIUM lE^ AMOEIS EEDIN- TEGEATIO EST. In going to my naked bed, as one that would have slept, I heard a wife sing to her child, that long before had wept. She sighed sore, and sang full sweet, to bring the babe to rest. That would not cease, but cried still, in sucking at her breast. She was full weary of her watch, and grieved ■with her child. She rocked it, and rated it, until on her it smil'd ; Then did she say, " Now have I found the proverb true to prove. The falling out of faithful friends renewing is of love." Then took I paper, pen, and ink, this proverb for to \vrite, In register for to remain of such a worthy wight. As she proceeded thus in song unto her Httlo brat, Much matter utter' d she of weight in placo whereas she sat ; And proved plain, there was no beast, nor creature bearing life, Conld weU be known to live in love without discord and strife : Then kissed she her little babe, and sware by God above, " The falling out of faithful friends renewing is of love." *-il. •it. M. •it- -^ 41- ^F tP tF ^ -vF ^ " I marvel much, pardie," quoth she, " for to behold the rout, To see man, woman, boy, and beast, to toss the world about ; Some kneel, some crouch, some beck, some check, and some can smoothly smile. And some embrace others in arms, and there tliink many a ^vile. Some stand aloof at cap and knee, some humble, and some stout. Yet are they never friends indeed until they once fall out." Thus ended she her song, and said, before she did remove, " The falling out of faithful friends renewing is of love." Bichard Edwards. — About 1557. 92.— THE LOVEE EEQUESTETH SOME FEIENDLY COMFOET, AFFIEMING HIS CONSTANCY. The mountains high, whose lofty tops do meet the haughty sky ; The craggy rock, that to the sea free passage doth deny ; The aged oak, that doth resist the force of blustring blast ; The pleasant herb, that everywhere a pleasant smell doth cast ; The lion's force, whose courage stout declares a prince-like might ; The eagle, that for worthiness is bom of kings in fight. ******* Then these, I say, and thousands more, by tract of time decay. And, like to time, do quite consume, and fade from form to clay ; But my true heart and service vow'd shall last time out of mind, And stdl remain as thine by doom, as Cupid hath assigned ; My faith, lo here ! I vow to thee, my troth thou know'st too well ; My goods, my friends, my life, is thine ; what need I more to teU ? I am not mine, but thine ; I vow thy hests I Avill obey. And serve thee as a servant ought, in pleasing if I may ; And sith I have no flying wings, to serve thee as I wish, Ne fins to cut the silver streams, as doth the gliding fish ; Wherefore leave now forgetfulness, and send again to me. And strain thy azure veins to write, that I may greeting see. From 1400 to 1558.] THE LOYE THAT IS REQUITED WITH DISDAIN. [W. Hunsis. And thus farowoU ! moro dear to mo than chicfcst friend I have, "Wliose love iu heart I mind to shrine, till Death his feo do crave. Richard Edwards. — About 1557. 93.— THE LOVE THAT IS REQUITED WITH DISDAIN. In search of things that secret are my mated muso began, "What it niijjht bo molested most the head and mind of man ; The bending brow of prince's face, to ^\Tath that doth attend, Or want of parents, wife, or child, or loss of faithful friend ; The roaring of the cannon shot, that makes the piece to shake, Or terror, such as mighty Jovo from heaven above can make : All these, in fine, may not compare, experience so doth prove, Unto the torments, shai-p and strange, of such as bo in love. Love looks aloft, and laughs to scorn all such as griefs annoy. The moro extreme their passions be, the greater is his joy ; Thus Love, as victor of the field, triumphs above the rest. And joys to see his subjects lio with living death in breast ; But diro Disdain lots drive a shaft, and gaUs this bragging fool. Ho plucks his plumes, unbends his bow, and sets him new to school ; ■\Miereby this boy that bragged lato, as con- queror over all. Now yields himself unto Disdain, his vassal and his thrall. William Hunnis. — About 1557. 94.— THE NUT-BEO^\^ MAID. He. It standcth so ; a deed is do'. Whereof great harm shall grow : My destiny is for to die A shameful death, I trow ; Or else to flee : the one must bo, None other way I know, But to %\-ithdraw as an outlaw, And take mo to my bow. Wherefore adieu, my own heart true ! None other redo I can ; For I must to tho green wood go, Alone, a banished man. She. O Lord, what is this world's bliss, That changeth as tho moon I My Summer's day in lusty May Is darked before the noon. I hear you say, Farewell : Nay, nay, Wo dei»art not so soon. WTiy say yo bo ? whither will yo go ? Alas ! what have yo done ? All my welfare to sorrow and care Should change if yo were gone ; For in my mind, of all mankind I lovo but you alone. He. I can believe, it shall you grieve, And somewhat you distrain : But afterward, your paincs hard Within a day or twain Shall soon aslako ; and yo shall take Comfort to you again. Why should yo ought, for to make thought? Your labour were in vain, i'lnd thus I do, and pray to you. As heartily as I can ; For I must to the green wood go, Alone, a banished man. She. Now sith that ye have showed to mo Tho secret of your mind, I shall be plain to you again. Like as ye shaU me find. Sith it is so that ye will go, I will not Uve behind ; Shall never be said, tho Nut-brown Maid "NVas to her lovo unkind : Make you readj', for so am I, .fUthough it were anon ; For in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone. He. I coimsel you, remember how It is no maiden's law Nothing to doubt, but to run out To wood mth an outlaw ; For ye must there in your hand bear A bow, ready to draw ; And as a thief, thus must you live, Ever in dread and awe. Whereby to you gi-cat harm might grow : Yet had I lever than. That I had to the green wood go, Alone, a banished man. She. I think not nay, but, as ye say, It is no maiden's lore: But love may make mo for your sake. As I have said before, To come on foot, to himt and shoot To got us meat in store ; For so that I your company jNIay have, I ask no more : From which to part it makes my heart As cold as any stone ; For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone. He. Yet take good heed, for ever I dread That ye could not sustain The thorny ways, tho deep vaUt-ys, The snow, tho frost, tho rain, Tlio cold, the heat ; for, dry or wcct. We must lodge on the plain ; And us above, none other roof But a brake bush or twain : Anonymous.] THE NUT-BEOWN MAID. [Second Peeiod. — "WTiich soon should sri-ieve you, I believe, And yo \vonld gUiiUy than That I had to the green wood go, Alcne, a banished man. She. Sith I have hero been pai-tincr With you of joy and bUss, I must also part of your wo Eudui-o, as reason is. Yet I ara sure of one pleasure, And, shortly, it is this, That, where ye be, me seemeth, pardic, I could not fare amiss. Without more speech, I yon beseech That ye were soon agone. For, to my mind, of all mankind I loTO but you alone. Ee. If ye go thither, ye must consider, Wnen ye have list to dine. There shall no meat be for you gete, Nor drink, beer, ale, nor %vine, l\o sheetes clean, to lie between, Made of thread and twine ; None other house but leaves and boughs. To cover your head and mine. Oh mine heart sweet, this evil diet. Should make you pale and wan ; Wliereforc I will to the green wood go, Alone, a banished man. She. Among the wild deer, such an archer, As men say that ye be, Te may not fail of good \'ittail, 'S'Sniere is so great plcutie. And water clear of the river, Shall be full sweet to me. With which in heal I shall right weel Endure, as ye shall see ; And ere we go, a bed or two I can provide anone ; For, in my mind, of aU mankind I love but you alone. He. Lo yet before, ye must do more, If yo ^^^ll go ^^'ith me ; As cut your hair up by your ear, Your kirtle to the knee ; With bow in hand, for to withstand Your enemies, if need bo ; And this same night, before day-light, To wood-ward will I flee. If that ye -svill all this fulfill, Do't shortly as ye can : Else mil I to the green wood go, Alone, a banished man. She. I shall, as now, do more for you, Than 'longeth to womanhood. To short my hair, a Vjow to bear. To shoot in time of need. Oh, my sweet mother, before aU other For you I have most dread ; But now adieu ! I must ensue \\Ticre fortune doth me lead. AU this make ye : Nov; let us flee ; The day comes fast upon : For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone. He. Nay, nay, not so ; ye shall not go, And I shall tell you why : Your appetite is to be light Of love, I weel espy : For like as ye have said to mo, In like wise, hardily. Ye Vi'ould answer whoever it were, In way of company. It is said of old, soon hot, soon cold ; And so is a woman, AVhereforc I to the wood will go, Alone, a banished man. S7ie. If yo take heed, it is no need Such words to say by mo ; For oft ye prayed and me assayed. Ere I loved you, pardie : And though that I, of ancestry, A baron's daughter be. Yet have you proved how I you loved, A squire of low degree ; And ever shali, whatso befal ; To die therefore anon ; For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone. He. A baron's child to be beguiled. It were a ciirsod deed ! To be fellaw with an outlaw. Almighty God forbid ! It better were, the poor squicr Alone to forest yede. Than I should say, another day. That, by my cursed deed. Wo were betrayed : wherefore, good maid, The best rede that I can. Is, that I to the green v>'ood go, Alone, a banished man. )S7ic. Wliatever befaU, I never shall. Of this thing you upbraid ; But, if ye go, and leave mo so. Then have ye mo betrayed. Ecmember weel, how that you deal ; For if ye, as ye said. Be so unkind to leave behind, Yom- love, the Nut-Bro-svn Maid, Trust me truly, that I shall die Soon after ye be gone ; For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone. Ho. If that ye went, ye should repent ; For in the forest now I have purveyed mo of a maid, Whom I love more than you; Another fairer than ever yo were, I dare it weel avow, And of you both each should bo wroth With other, as I trow :_ It were mine ease to live in peace ; So -ivill I, if I can ; Wherefore I to the wood v.-lU go. Alone, a banislied man. She. Though in the wood I understood Ye had a paramour, All this may not remove my thought, But that I will lie your. From 1400 to 1553.] KING AETHUR'S DEATH. [Akontmous. And sho shall find mo Foft and kind And courteous every hour ; C;iad to fiUiUI all that'nho wiU Command mo to my power. For had yo, lo, an huiulrcd mo, Of them I would bo ono; For, in my mind, of all mankind I lovo but you alouo. He. Mine own dear lovo, I seo thcc provo That j'O bo kind and true ; Of maid and wife, in all my lifo, Tho host that over I know. I3o merry and glad ; no more bo sad ; Tho case is chani^cd now ; For it v/ero ruth, that, for your truth, Ye should have cause to rue. 3o not dismayed ; whatever I said To you, when I began ; I will not to tho greenwood go, I am no banished man. Slic. Those tidings bo more glad to mo. Than to bo niadc a quoen. If I were sure thoy would endure : But it is often seen, Vvlicu men will break promise, thoy speak Tho wordcs on tho sploon. To shape some wilo mo to beguile. And steal from mo, I ween : Tlian were tho case worse than it was, And I more woo-begono : For, in my mind, of all mankind I lovo but you alone. lie. Yo shall not need further to dread : I will not disparage, Ton (God defend !) sith yo descend Of so great a lineage. Now understand ; to Westmoreland, AVhich is mine heritage, I will you bring ; and ^\ith a ring. By v.-ay of marririge, I will you take, and lady make, As shortly as I can : Thus have you won an orly's son, And not a banished man. Anony^noiis. — Aho'ut 1502. 95.— KING ARTHUR'S DEATH. On Trinity Monday in the mom, This sore battJkylo was doomed to be ; AVhero many a knight cried, '* AVcll-awayo 1" Alack, it was tho more pity. Ero tho first crowing of tho cock, Wljcn as the king in his bod laj% He thoTiglit Sir CJawaino to him Ciuno, And there to him those words lUd say ; " Now, as ye are mine uncle dear, And as you prize your life, this day moot not ^\'itll your foo in fight ; Put off tho battiiyle, if ye may ; For Sir Launcelot is now in France, And with him many a hardy knij.dit. Who will witliin this month be back, And will as.si.st yo in tho fight." Tho king then called hi.^ nobles all, Before tho breaking of the day ; And told them how Sir Gawaino camo And there to him those word.s did bay. His nobles all this counsel gave, That, early in the morning, ho Should send away an herald at arms To ask a parley fair and free. Then twelve good Icnights King Arthur chose, The best of all that \\-ith him were, To parlcj' with the foo in field. And make with him agreement fair. Tho long ho charged all his host. In readiness there for to be : But no man should no weapon sth', Unless a sword dra>vn they should sec. And Mordrcd on the other part. Twelve of his knights did likewise bring ; Tho best of all his company-. To hold tho parley with tho Idng. Sir Mordred also charged his host. In readiness there for to bo ; But no man should no weapon stir. But if a sword drawn they should see. For he durst not his uncle trust. Nor ho his nephew, sooth to tell : Alack ! it was a woeful case, As e'er in Christontic befel. But vvhon they were together met. And both to fair accordance brought ; And a month's league between them set, Before tho battayle should be fought ; An adder crept forth of a bush, Stung ono o' tho king's knights on the kneo: Alack ! it was a woefi^J chance. As ever was in Christentie. Wlien tho knight found him wounded sore, And saw the wild-worm hanging there, HLs sword ho from his scabbard drew ; A piteous case as ye shall hear. For when the two hosts saw tho sword, They joini-d battayle instantly : Till of so many noble knigiits, On ono side there were left but threo. For all wero slain that durst abide. And but some few that iled away : Ay mo ! it was a bloody field. As e'er was fought on siunmcr's day. Upon King Arthur's own party', Onlj' himself escaped there, And Luk.^-n. Duke of Glostor, free. And tho kuig's butler, Bedovoro. And when the king behold his knights. All dead and scattered on the mould ; Tho tears fast trickled down his face : That manlj- face in fight so bold. Anoxtmotjs.] KING AETHUE'S DEATH. [Second Pekiod. " Now rest yo all, bravo kuiglits," ho said, " So true and faithful to yoiu- triist ; And must ye then, ye valiant hearts, Be left to moiUder into dust ? " Most loyal have ye been to me, Most true and faithful unto death : And, oh ! to raise ye up again, How freely could I yield my breath ! " But see the traitor's yet alive, Lo, where ho stalks among the dead ! Now bitterly he shall abye, And vengeance fall upon his head." *' Oh, stay, my liege," then said the duke, " O stay for love and charitio ; Ecmember what the ^dsion spake, Nor meet your foe, if it may be. " O, stay me not, thou worthy wight, This debt my loyal knights I owe : Betide me life, betide me death, I will avenge them of their foe." Then straight he grasped his trusty spear, And on his horse then mounted he : As his butler holpe him to his horse, His bowels gushed to his knee. " Alas ! " then said the noble king, " That I should live this sight to see ! To see this good knight here be slain, All for his love in helping me ! " He put his spear into his rest, Ajid to Sir Mordred loud gan cry — ■" Now set thyself upon thy guard, For, traitor, now thy death is nigh." Sir Mordred lifted up his sword. And fierce to meet the king ran he : The king his spear he through him thrust ; A fathom thorow his bodic. "When Mordred felt the stroke of death, And found that he was wounded so ; He thrust himself upon the spear, And struck the king a deadly blow. Then grimly died Sir Mordered, Presently upon that tree ; And bloody streams ran from the kinj Ere to the duke returned he. Sir Lukyn then he thus bespake, — " Sir knight, thou hast been faithful tried, Now take my sword Excalibar, That hangs so freely by my side. ^' O take my sword Excalibar, And there into the river throw : For here, henceforth, beneath this tree All use of weapons I forego. " And fare thee well, thou trusty sword, A better ne'er had vaUant knight, With thee full oft, and many a day, Ha-vo I withstood my foe in fight. " "With this good falchion in my hand. Oft have I reaped the bloody field : But now the fatal hour is come. That never more I may thoo wield." The duke to the river side he went, And there his own sword in threw he ; But he kept back Excalibar, He kept it back in pri'vitie. For aU of Cologne was the blade ; And aU the hilt of precious stone ; " And ever alack ! " then said the knight, " Must such a sword away be thrown ? " Then back he came imto the king, WTio said, " Sir Lukyn, what did you see ?' " Nothing, my liege, save that the ■wind Blew o'er the waters fair and free." " O go again," then said the king, " O good Sir Lukyn go again ; Into the river throw my sword. Nor keep me lingering here in pain." The duke then to the river went. And the king's scabbard in threw ho; But ho kept back Excalibar, And hid it underneath a tree. Then back he came to tell the king. Who said, " Sir Lukyn, saw yo aught ? " " Nothing, my liege, save that the wind Now with the angry waters fought." " LukjTi, Lukyn," said the king, " Twice hast thou dealt deceitfully; Alack, whom may we ever trust, When such a knight so false can be ? " Say, wouldst thou have thy master dead. All for a sword that wins thine eye ? Now go again, and throw it in. Or here the one of us shall die." The duke, all shent with this rebuke, No answer rnade unto the king ; But to tho river took the sword. And threw it far as he coiUd fling. A hand and an arm did meet tho sword, And flourished three times in the air ; Then sunk beneath the running stream, And of the duke was seen nae mair. All sore astonished stood the duke ; He stood as still, as still moto be : Then hastened back to tell the king ; But he was gone from under the tree. But to what place he could not tell, For never after he did him spyc ; But ho saw a barge go from the land, And he heard ladies howl and cry. And whether the king was there, or not. He never knew, nor ever colde ; For from that sad and direful day. Ho never more was seen on mould. Anonymous. — J.l*aiti 1550. THE THIRD PERIOD, FROM 1558 TO 1G49. THIS period has been termed the glorious ago of Englisb literature. The greatest names •will bo found in clusters, whether it bo in poetry, or philosophy, or politics ; Shakspere, Bacon, Spenser, Sydney, Hooker, Taylor, Barrow, Kaleigh, Napier, and Hobbes, and many others adorn its annals. In all probability the Reformation tended, with other causes, to produce this. Through printing, the treasures of Greece and Rome were laid open to tho public. Then came translations from many of tho highest works of Spain and Italy. Tasso was translated by Fairfax ; Ariosto by Harrington ; Homer and Hesiod by Chapman. Boccaccio, Petrarch, Dante, Aretino, Machiavel, Castiglione, all were opened up to the English reader in his own tongue. Sir Thonms North's translation of Plutarch did much to give incidents and facts to tho dramatic writers, who used them freely ; but, above all, tho Bible, for the first time placed within tho power of tho poorest to read, was doubtless tho greatest means of quickening tho hearts and intellects of the great and glorious writers of the age. HazUtt, in one of his own eloquent passages, says : — " Tho translation of tho Bible was tho chief engine in the great work. It threw open, by a secret spring, tho rich treasures of religion and morality, which had been there locked up as in a shrine. It revealed tho visions of tho prophets, and conveyed tho lessons of inspired teachers (such they were thought) to tho meanest of tho people. It gave them a common interest in tho common cause. Their hearts burned within thom as they read. It gave a oniiid to tho people by giving them common subjects of thought and feeling. It cemented their union of character and sentiment : it created endless diversity and collision of opinion. They found objects to employ their faculties, and a motive in the magnitude of tho con- sequences attaching to them, to exert tho utmost eagerness in tho pursuit of truth, and tho most daring intrepidity in maintaining it. Religious controversy sharpens the understanding by tho subtlety and remoteness «f the topics it discusses, and braces tho will by their infinite importance. We perceive in the history of tliis period a nervous masculine intellect. No levity, no feebleness, no indifference ; . or if there were, it is a relaxation from the intense anxiety which gives a tono to its general character. But there is a granty approaching to piety ; a seriousness of impression, a conscientious severity of argument, an habitual fervour and enthusiasm in their mode of hantUing almost every subject. Tho debates of the school- men were sharp and subtle enough ; but they wanted interest and grandeur, and were besides confined to a few : they did not affect the general mass of the community. But the Bible was thrown open to all ranks and conditions, ' to run and read,' with its wonderful table of con- tents from Genesis to the Revelations. Every village in England would present the scene so well described in Burns' s ' Cotter's Saturday Night.' I cannot think that all this variety and knowledge could be thrown in all at once upon the mind of a people and not make some im- pression upon it, the traces of which might bo discerned in tho manners and literature of the age. For to leave more disputable points, and tako only tho historical parts of the Old Testament, or tho moral sentiments of tho Now, there is nothing like them in the power of exciting awe and admiration or of riveting sympathy. Wo see what Milton has mado of tho account of tho ' Creation,' from tho manner in which he has treated it, imbued and im- pregnated vnth tho spirit of tho time of which we speak. Or what is there equal (in that romantic interest and patriarchal simplicity which goes to tho heart of a country and rouses it, as it were, from its lairs and wildernesses) equal to the story of Joseph and liis Brethren, of Rachel and Laban, of Jacob's dream, of Ruth and Boaz, the descriptions in tho book of Job, tho deliverance of tho Jews out of Egypt, or the account of their capti\'ity and return from Babylon ? Thcro is in all these parts of the Scripture, and numberless more of the same kind, to pass over the Orphic hj-mns of David, the prophetic denunciations of Isaiah, or tho gorgeous visions of Ezclcicl, an originality, a vastness of conception, a depth and tenderness of fooling, and a touching simplicity in tho modo of narration, wliich he who docs not feel, need bo mado of no ' penetrable stuff.' There is sometliing in tho character of Christ too, (leaving religious faith quite out of the question), of more sweetness and majesty, and more likely to work a change in the mind of man, by the contemplation of its idea alone, than .any to bo found in history, whether actual or feigned. This character is that of a sublime THE TRIED PEETOD.— FEOM 1558— 1 049. humanity, such as -n-as never seen on earth before, nor since. This shone manifestly both in his words and actions. Wo see it in his washing the Disciples' feet the nif,'ht before His death, that unspeakable instance of huini]it.y and love, above all art, all meanness, and all pride, and in the leave He took of them on that occasion : ' My peace I give unto you, that peace ■which the world cannot give, give I unto you ; " and in His last commandment, that ' they should love one another.' Who can read the account of His behaviour on the cross, when turning to his mother, Ho said, ' Woman, behold thy son ; ' and to tho disciple John, ' Behold thy mother;' and 'from that hour that disciple took her to his own home,' "ivithout having his heart smote within him ? We see it in His treatment of the woman taken in adultery, and in His excuse for the woman who poured precious ointment on His garment as an offering of devotion and love, whicli is hero all in all. His religion was the I'eligion of the heart. Wo pee it in His discourse with the Disciples as they walked together towards Emmaus, when their hearts burned within them ; in His sermon from the mount, in His parable of the Good Samaritan, and in that of the Prodigal Sou — in every act and word of His life, a grace, a mildness, a dignity and love, a patience and wisdom worthy of the Son of God. His v^holo life and being were imbued, steeped in this word, charitij ; it was the spring, the well-head from which every thought and feeling gushed into act ; and it was this that breathed a mild glory from His face in that last agony upon the cross, when the meek Saviour bowed His head and died, prajdng for His enemies. He ■n'as the first true teacher of morality ; for He alone conceived the idea of a pure humanity. He redeemed man from the worship of that idol, self ; and instructed him, by precept and example, to love his neighboiir as himself, to forgive our enemies, to do good to those that curse us and despitefully use us. He taught the love of good for the sake of good, -without regard to personal or sinister views, and made the affections of the heart the sole scat of morality, instead of the pride of the understanding or the Bternncss of the will. In answering the question, ' Who is our neighbour ? ' as one who stands in need of our assistance, and whose wounds we can bind up. He has dono more to humanize tho thoughts and tamo the unruly passions, than all who have tried to reform and benefit mankind. The very idea of abstract benevolence, of the desire to do good because another wants our services, and of regarding the hiiman race as one family, the offspring of one common parent, is hardly to be found in any other code or system. It was to the Jews a stumbhng-block, and to the Greeks foohshness. Tho Greeks and Eomans never thought of considering others ; but as they wore Greeks or Eomans, as they were bound to them by certain positive ties ; or, on tho other hand, as separated from them by fiercer antipathies. Their virtues were tho virtues of political machines ; their vices were tho vices of demons, ready to inflict or to endure pain with obdurate and remorseless inflexibility of purpose. But in the Christian religion ' we pierceive a softness coming over the heart of a nation, and tho iron scales that fence and harden it, melt and drop off.' It becomes malleable, capable of pity, of forgiveness, of relaxing in its claims, and remitting its power. We strike it, and it does not hurt us : it is not steel or marble, but flesh and blood, clay tempered with tears, and ' soft as sinews of the new-born babe.' Tho gospel was fir.st preached to the poor, for it consulted their wants and interests, not its own pride and arrogance. It first promulgated the equality of mankind in the community of duties and benefits. It denounced tho iniquities of tho chief Priests and Pharisees, and declared itself at variance with principalities and powers, for it sympathizes not with tho oppressor, but the oppressed. It first abolished slavery, for it did not consider the power of tho will to inflict injury, as clothing it with a right to do so. Its law is good, not power. It at the same time tended to wean tho mind from the grossness of sense, and a particle of its divine flame was lent to brighten and imrify tho lamp of love ! " There have been i^crsons who, being sceptics as to the di^nno mission of Christ, have taken an unaccountable prejudice to His doctrines, and have been disposed to deny the merit of His character ; but this was not the feeling of tho great men in the age of Elizabeth (whatever might be their belief), one of whom says of Him, -with a boldness equal to its piety : — " The best of men That e'er wore earth about him, was a suft'ercr ; A soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit ; The first true gentleman that ever breathed." This was old honest Decker, and the lines ought to embalm his memory to every one who has a sense either of religion, or iihilosophy, or true genius. Nor can I help thinking that we may discern the traces of the influence exerted by religioiis faith in the spirit of the poetry of tho age of Elizabeth, in the means of exciting terror and pity, in the delineation of the passions of grief, remorse, love, sympathy, the sense of shame, in the fond desires, the longings after immortality, in the heaven of hope, and the abyss of despair it lays open to us. The literature of this ago then, I would say, was strongly influenced (among other causesj first, by the spirit of Christianity, and secondly, by the spirit of Protestantism. BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. THOMAS SACKVILLE. Thomas Sackville, Earl of Dorset, born 1536, died 1608, was distinpruishcd both by hi','h official position. Lord High Treasurer of England, and poetical eminence. He was one of the commissioners who tried Mary Queen of Scots, and it was ho who was deputed to announce her sentence to that much-to-bo pitied lady. "When a student at the Inner Temple ho wrote a tragedy, " Gorboduc," which was performed by the students in a Christmas entertainment and afterwards before Queen Elizabeth at Vniitchall, in 1561. Ho contributed the Induction and Legend of the Duke of Buckingham to the " IMirror of Magistrates." Campbell says, " Ho carried tasto and elegance even into his formal political functions, and for his eloquence was styled the bell of the Star Chamber. As a poet, his attempt to unite allegory with heroic narrative and his giving our language its earliest regular tragedy, evince the -views and enterprise of no or- dinary mind ; Init, though the induction to the ' Mirror for Magistrates ' displays some potent sketches, it bears the complexion of a saturnine genius, and resembles a bold and gloomy landscape on which the sun never shines. As to ' Gorboduc,' it is a piece of monotonous recitals, and cold and heavy accumulation of incidents. As an imitation of classical tragedy it is peculiarly unfortu- nate, in being without even the unities of place and time, to pircivrascribe its dulness." Sir Philip Sydney, in his " Defence of Poesie," speaks, however, in much more favourable strains. " ' Gorboduc ' is full of stately speeches and well-sounding phrases, clyming to the height of Seneca his style, and as full of notable moralitie, which it doth most delightfully teach ar.d so obtayne the very end of iiocsie " ; and "Wart on referring to the *' Complaint " of Hcnr}- Duke of Buckingham says, it is written " with a force and even elegance of expression, a copiousness of phraseology, o.nd an exactness of versification, not to be found in any other i>art of the collection." See Warton's " Hi.-t. of Eng. Poetry ; " Hor. Walpolcs " Koyal and Noble Axithors" ; Collins's "Peerage " by Brydges. JOHN HAEEINGTON. John Harrington, born 1534, died 15S2. He was imprisoned by Queen Mary for his suspected attachment to Queen Elizabeth, by whom ho was afterwards rewarded with a grant of lands. He wrote but little, but that little causes us to regret that he did not v.rite more. " His love verses," says Campbell, " have an elegance and terseness more modem, by an hundred years, than those of his con- temporaries." Hallam adds, "they are as poUshod as any written at the close of the Queen's reign." Sec " Nuga) Antique"; Ellis's " Specimens " ; Hallara's " Lit. Hist, of Europe." GEORGE GASCOIGNE. George Gascoigne, bom 1537, died 1577, after studying for some time at Cambridge, removed to Gray's Inn, which he left for the army, and served in Holland, where he re- ceived a captain's commission from the Prince of Orange. Ecturning to England, he became a courtier, and contributed to tho festivities which enlivened the business of statesmen and tho progress of the queen. The name of the princely pleasures of " Kenil- worth Castle," one of Gascoigne'.s masques, wQl remind many of our readers of Amy Robsart and Sir Richard Yaracy, of tho ambitious Earl and his imperious mistress. Among Gascoigne's best-known pieces are: "Tho Glasso of Government, a Tragicall Comedic, Lon., 1575 " ; " The Steele Glas, a Satyre, 1576 " ; "A Delicate Diet for daintio mouthde Droonkards ; wherein the fowlo abuse of common carousing and quaffing with heartie draughtcs is honestly admonished, 1576"; "The Droome of Doomes Day; wherein the frailties and miseries of man's hfe are lively portrayed and learnedly set forth, 1586"; " ThoComedie of Supposes, and the Tragcdie of Jocasta, in tho collective edition of his whole woorkes, 15S7." Warton says, tluit tho comedy of " Supposes " was \ tho first comedy written in English prose ; i and Dr. Farmer in his Essay on Shakspcro says that the latter borrowed part of tho BIOGEAPHICAL NOTICES. [Third Period.- plot and of the phraseology of this play, and transferred it into his " Tamincr of the Shrew." This was the opinion of Chalmers, "Warton, and Gifford. Phillips in his " Theat. Poet." says, that the iioetical works of Gascoigno have been thouE^ht worthy to bo quoted among the chief of that time, and Sir S. E. Brydges in his edition of Phillips's book says, " From what I have seen of his works, his fancy seems to have been sparkling and elegant, and ho always writes with the powers of a poet." Hallam deems his minor poems, es- pecially one called " The Arraignment of a Lover," as having much spirit and gaiety. Headley, in his " Select Beauties of Ancient English Poetry," speaks of him as a wntor whose mind, though it exhibits few marks of strength, is not destitute of delicacy ; ho is smooth, sentimental, and harmonious. See Alli- bone's " Crit. Diet, of Eng. Lit. " ; " Athen. Oxon." ; Whetstone's " Remembrance of Gas- coigne"; " Censura Literaria"; Ritson's "Blbl. Poetica"; Watts's " Bibl. Brit."; Chalmers's " British Poets." SIR PHILIP SYDNEY. Sir Philip Sydney was born at Penhurst, in Kent, in 1554. He was a chivalrous English soldier and poet. In liis fifteenth year he was sent to Christ Church, Oxford, and at the age of seventeen he went on his travels. He was in Paris during the massacre of St. Bartho- lomew, and was obliged to take refuge in the abode of Sir Francis Walsingham, the English ambassador. After visiting various cities in Hungary, Italy, and Germany, he in 1575 returned to England, and in the following year Queen Elizabeth appointed him ambas- sador to the Emperor Rudolph, at whose court he contracted an intimacy with the famous Don John of Austria. On account of his declaring his sentiments freely against .the queen's main-iage with the Duke of Anjou, in 1580, in his remonstrance to her majesty, he retired from court, and in his retreat wi-ote his celebrated romance "Arcadia," and his " Defence of Poesie." In 1.582 he received the honour of knighthood, and in 1585 was appointed governor of Flushing, and general of the troops sent to the assistance of the United Provinces. About this time his repu- tation for msdom and valour stood so high, that he was thought a fit person to bo a can- didate for the crown of Poland ; but the queen would not consent to tho loss of " the jewel of her dominions." In September, 158G, Sir Philip displayed extraordinary bravery at the battle of Zutphen, but received a mortal wound in the thigh as he was mounting his third horse, having had two slain under him. His conduct whilst leaving tho battle-field illustrates his noble character. " In which sad progress," says his biographer. Lord Brook, " passing along by the rest of the army where his uncle the general, tho Earl of Lei- cester, was, and being thirsty with excess of bleeding, he called for some drink, which was presently brought him; but as he was putting the bottle to his mouth, he saw a poor soldier carried along, who had eaten his last at the same feast, ghastly casting up liis eyes at the bottle, which, Sir PhiHp perceiving, took it from his head before he drank and delivered it to the poor man with these words, ' Thy necessity is yet greater than mine.' " This -wound proved fatal twenty-five days afterwards. His body was brought home and buried in St. Paul's Cathedral. In addition to the works already mentioned. Sir Philip wrote sonnets, " Ourania," a poem, and several other pieces. — (Beeton's Diet. Universal Biog.) Campbell speaks in the follovring terms of our poet : — " The contemporaries of Sydney knew the man, and foreigners, no less than his own coiintrj-men, seem to have felt from his personal influence and conversation, an homage for him, that could only be paid to a commanding intellect gmding the principles of a noble heart. Tho variety of his ambition, perhaps, unfavourably divided the force of his genius; feeling that he could take dif- ferent paths to reputation, he did not confine himself to one, but was successively occupied in the punctilious duties of a courtier, tho studies and pursuits of a scholar and traveller, and in the life of a soldier, of which the chi- valrous accomplishments could not be learnt without diligence and fatigue. All his ex- cellence in those pursuits, and all the cele- brity that would have placed him among the competitors for a cro^wn, was gained in a life of thirty -two years. His sagacity and inde- pendence are recorded in the advice which he gave to his own sovereign. In the quarrel v^ith Lord Oxford, he opposed the rights of an English commoner to tho prejudices of aris- tocracy and of royalty itself. At home he was the patron of literature. All England wore mourning for his death. Perhaps the weU-known anecdote of his generosity to the dying soldier speaks more powerfully to the heart than the whole volumes of elegies, in Hebrew, Greek and Latin, that were pub- lished at his death by the Universities." ROBERT SOUTHWELL. Robert Southwell, bom 1560, died 1595. He was descended from an ancient family in Norfolk, but educated at the English college in Douay, after which he became a Jesuit at Rome. He was appointed prefect of studies there in 1585, but soofi afterwards he was sent as a missionary to England. The Countess of Arundel, who appointed him her chaplain, proved a generous and faithful friend. He resided much with her. In July, 1592, ho was apprehended as being implicated in secret From 1558 to 1649.] BIOGEAPHICAL NOTICES. conspiracies apainst the povcrnmcnt. Ho was kept in prison nearly three years, and was during that period often subjected to tho torture of tho rack. Ho thus suffered no loss than ten times. Ho acknowledged that ho was a priest and a Jesuit, that ho canio to England to preach tho Catholic religion, and that for this ho was ready to lay down his life ; but ho woidd never admit any knowledge of the con- ppiracies. Ho was at last brought to trial at tho King's Bench, condemned and exocutod according to tho barbarous custom of tho period, the next day, at Tyburn. In the C7th volumo of tho " Gentleman's Magazine " there is given a list of his writings and a sketch of his life. Kobcrt Aris Wilhnott says, " One of tho least known, though certainly not tho least deserving writers of the age of Elizabeth, was Eobert Southwell. His poetical compo- sitions do not entitle him to an elevated rank either by their fancy or their power, yet they contain many thoughts that often ' lie too deep for tears,' and as ' a warbler of poetic prose ' he will bo found to have few rivals ; of all our early poets, Southwell recalls most freshly tho manner of Goldsmith ; not that ho ever opened tho same vein of pleasantry, or acquired tho art of making a history of animals as amusing as a Persian tale ; the resemblance is t» be traced in tho naturalness of tho sentiment, tho propriety of the expres- sion, and the easy harmony of tho verse." In his own times Southwell's works were very popular. SIE WALTEE EALEIGH. Sir Walter Ealeigli was born at Hayes, Devonshire, in 15.52. In 15G8 he was sent to Oriel College, Oxford, where " he was worthily esteemed a proficient in oratory and philo- sophy," but did not long remain. He entered the troop of gentlemen volunteers who went to the assistance of tho Protestants of France, and in which ho remained five or six years. Ho subsequently joined tho expedition of General Norris in tho Netherlands, in aid of tho Prince of Orange. Soon after his return, ho engaged with his brother-in-law, Sir Humphrey Gilbert, in a voyage to America, whence they returned in 1579. The next j-car he was in Ireland, and di.stinguishod himself against the rebels of Munster. On his return to England, ho gained tho favour of Queen Elizabeth by a romantic piece of gallantry. Her Majesty, while taking a walk, stopped at a muddy place, hesitating whether to proceed or not ; on which Ealeigh took off his new plush cloak, and spread it on the ground. The queen trod gently over tho foot-cloth and . soon rewarded tho sacrifice of a cloak. In 1584 he fitted out a squadron and endeavoured to establish tho colony, named in honour of Elizabeth, Virginia. After spending ii40,000, he abandoned tho attempt to a mercantile corporation. Tho expedition brought home tho tobacco-plant an'as a young man, was inscribed to Queen Elizabeth, and forms one of the glories of her reign." Sir John pub- lished a number of works, among which was the " NugEe Antiqute," being a miscellaneous collection of original papers in prose and verse, of the times of Henry VIII., Edward VI., Mary, Elizabeth, and James, by Sir J. H. and others who lived in those times. These volumes should be in the lil^rary of every historical student. " Sir John Hamngton appears to have been a gentleman of great pleasantry and hiimour ; his fortune was easy, the court his element, and mt, not his busi- ness, but diversion." — See Campbell's " Speci- mens " ; Allibone',s " Crit. Diet. Eng. Lit." ; Hallam's " Lit. Hist, of Europe " ; " Censura Literaria " ; Cooper's "Muses' Library," p. 297; Bishop Nicolson's "English Hist. Lib.": Park's Advert, to his edition of " Nugej Antiquffi." FULKE GEEVILLE. Fiilko Grcville, Lord Brooke, born 1554, died 1628, was the son of Sir Fulke Greville, of Beauchamp Court, in Warwickshire. He entered at Trinity College, Cambridge, and afterwards completed his studios at Oxford. After attaining distinction at court, and being honoured by a seat at the Privy Council, he ■was assassinated by one of his domestics, named Ealph Heywood. He ordered the fol- lowing inscription to be placed on his o'sv'n grave : " Sen^ant to Queen Elizabeth, Coun- cillor to King James, and friend to Sir PhUip Sydney." He ■wrote a variety of works, among which are : " A Treatise of Human Learning," in fifteen stanzas; " An Inquisition npon Fame and Honour," in eighty-six stan- zas; the "Life of the renowned Sir Philip Sydney"; "Alaham," a tragedy ; " Musta- pha," a tragedy; a "Letter of Travcll." Eichard Baxter, the celebrated nonconformist, speaks highly of one of his works. Hallam, in his "Literary History of Europe," says: " Lord Brooke's poetry is chiefly worth notice as an indication of that thinking spirit vipon political science, which was to produce the riper speculation of Hobbes and Han-ington and Locke." — See Walpole's "Royal and Noble Authors"; Langbaine's "Dramatical Poets"; Baxter's "Poetical Fragments"; Charles Lamb ; Hazlitt's " Table Talk : of Persons one would wish to have seen " ; Allibone's " Crit. Diet. Eng. Lit." ; Camp- bell's " Specimens." SIR HENEY VfOTTON. Sir Henry Wotton, born at Bocton-Mal- herbo, in Kent, in 1568. Foreseeing the fall of Essex, to whom ho was secretary, he left the kingdom, biit returned on the accession of James, and was appointed ambassador to the court of Venice. Towards the close of his life, he took deacon's orders, and was nomi- nated Provost of Eton. He wrote the " Ele- ments of Architecture " ; " Parallel between the Earl of Essex and the Duke of Bucking- ham " ; " Characters of some Kings of Eng- land"; " Essay on Education " ; and "Poems," printed in the EehquaB Wottonianae, by good old Isaac Walton. He died in 1639. If the reader has not seen the " Life of Wotton," by Walton, let him by all means get it ; a greater treat is not in the whole language of biography than this life by the quaint and delightful angler. — See Campbell's " Speci- mens " ; Beeton's "Diet. Univ. Biog." ; Chambers's " Cyc. Eng. Lit." HENEY CONSTABLE. Henry Constable was educated at Oxford, but took his B.A. degree at St. John's College, Cambridge, in 1579. He published " Diana, or the Excellent Conceitful Sonnets of H. C, &c.," in 1584. Ellis thinks he was born in 1568, but it is quite uncertain, as also is the time of his death, Dr. Birch, in his " Me- moirs of Queen Elizabeth," supposes that he was the same Henry Constable who, for his zeal in the Catholic religion, was long obliged to live in a state of banishment. He returned to England, however, about the beginning of James's reign. — See Edmund Bolton's " Hy- percritica " ; Ellis's " Specimens " ; Malone's "Shakspere," x. 74; Todd's "Milton"; War- ton's " English Poetry " ; Campbell's " Speci- mens " ; Allibone's " Crit. Diet. Eng. Lit." WILLIAM SHAKSPEEE. Wniiam Shakspere, born 1564, died 161C. The neglect of Shakspere by his countrymen, From 1558 to lG-19.] BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. immediately after his own age, or rather the little attention then paid to the por.sonal hi.story of poets, has loft to the anxious curi- osity of modern admiration Hlii,'ht materials for the coustruetion of his bio;ri'ai>hy. Otiicial doeiunonts, tradition, and scattered notices in various \vritera, have been carefully yleanod to procure a few meagre facts from which we may trace the great poet's living career. Ho was born at Stratford-on-Avou, in Warwick- shire, in April, 15G4. His father, a wool- comber or glover, seems to have been de- scended from a family of yeomen settled at Snitterfield, near "Warwick, and, marrying a rustic heiress, Mary Arden (who inherited a farm of some value), ho went to Stratford to reside as a tradesman. Ho became high- bailiff of the tovra, and possessed several houses in Stratford; but his circumstances declined. It is conjectured that a short course in the Stratford grammar-school was all the rogiilar education Shakspero ever received. The necessity of assistance in his business forced his father to %\-ithdraw him early from school. The traditionary anecdotes of his youth indicate anything but the earnest student anxiously expanding the rudimentary acquirements received from a village peda- gogiie ; and yet the question of his learning has employed the elaborate, and often sar- castic and angry erudition of hostile critics. But Shakspcre's "wit" was "made of Atalanta's heels : " an hour of a mind like liis could extract the honey, the acquisition of which employed the days and nights of less Vigorous intellects. If we cannot believe, in all its circumstances, the traditionary tale of the deer-stealing in Charlecoto Park, the angry vengeance of Sir Thomas Lucy, and the forced flight of the poet from his native place ; we can yet discern in the compelled hurry of his marriage, that the ardour of his temperament had involved him in irregularities and imprudences. Ho married, at the age of eighteen, Anno Hathaway, a young woman seven years older than himself, the daughter of a "substantial yeoman" in the neighbour- hood. Three or four years after his marriage lie removed to London, ha\-ing possiblj' per- ceived the incipient tendencies of his genius during the occasional visits of the metropolitan players to Stratford. In London we soon find the poet in comparative opulence. He rapidly acquired a largo ]iroperty in more than one theatre. The order in which he produced his dramatic compositions has been a subject of keen inquiry ; but the minute researches of editors elicit few satisfactory results. In whatever order his dramas were produced, he soon A-indicatcd the immense superiority of his genius by universal i)opnlarity. He was tlio companion of the nobles and the wits of the time, and a favourite of Elizabeth herself, at whose request some of his pieces were written. The wealth which his genius re- aUzcd enabled him, comparatively earlj' in life, to retire from his professional career. He had i)urchascd an estate in the vicinity of his native town ; but his tranquil retirement was of no long duration : he enjoyed it only four years. He died April 23rd (St. George's day), IGIG, andwas buried "on the north sido of the chancel in the great church of Strat- ford." His bust is placed in the wall over his gi-ave : on the stone beneath is the following epitaph : — " Good friend, for Jesus' sake, forbear To dig the dust inclosed here. Blest be the man that spares these stones, And curst be he that moves my bones." His only son had died early ; all the children of his married daughters died without issue. The works of Shakspero consist of thirty- seven plays, tragedies, comedies, and histories ; the poems "Venus and Adonis," and "Tar- quin and Lucrece," with a collection of sonnets. Of the thirty-seven plays, "Titus Andronicus," "Pericles," and " Henry VL," with portions of some others, have been douVtted by critics to bo authentically Shakspcre's ; and some have claimed for him other authorless pieces of the period. The total want of care to pre- serve and to authenticate the productions of Ids genius before his death, has been supposed to indicate the poet's perfect indifference to fame. The worship with which Shakspere is universally regarded in this country disposes us to love him on trust. The estimation of Ills contemporaries and rivals proves him not undeserving of this regard. The "gentle Shakspere" was universally beloved. Gif- ford has extracted the gall even from expres- sions that were esteemed as the sarcasm of Ben Jonson's surly ingratitude. The subject of Shakspcre's dramatic and poetical character is so vast, that it would be idle here to attempt its analysis. The variety of its attributes has, as might have been ex- pected, drawn both censure and applause from different tastes and ages. Voltaire could see in " Hamlet" only the work of a " drunken savage." The mechanical pedantry of Kymcr sees in "Othello" only "a bloody farce '^ "a tragedy of a pocket-handkerchief." "Wo shall quote the celebrated passage of Drydcn, eulogized by Johnson as " a perpetual model of encomiastic criticism ; exact without mi- nuteness, and lofty without exaggeration" : — " He (Shakspero) was the man, who of all modem, and, perhaps, ancient poets, had the largest and most comprehensive soid. All the images of uatui-e were still present to him, and ho drew them, not laboriously, but luckily. "When he describes anything, you more than see it, you feel it too. Those who accuse him to have wanted learning give him the greater commendation : he was naturally leurnod ; ho needed not the spectacles of books to real nature ; he looked inwards and found her there. I cannot say he is everywhere alike ; 6* BIOGEAPHIC^M. NOTICES. [Thikd Peeiod.- were he so, I should do liim injury to compare him -n-ith the greatest of mankind. He is many times flat, insipid ; his comic wit de- generating: into clinches, his serious into bom- bast. But he is always gi-eat, when great occasion is presented to him ; no man can say he ever had a fit subject for his wit, and did not then raise himself as high above the rest of poets — Quantum lenta solent inter viburnacuprcssi." This "epitome of excellence," as Johnson terms the above criticism, must constitute our sole tribute to Shakspere's merits. The voluminous admiration of more modern times does not contain a very groat deal more than is compressed into the vigour of Dryden's remarks. We would simply invite attention to the higher views of the philosophy of Shakspere's literature, suggested by the fine imagination of Coleridge. Poets have always been Shakspere's best critics. See the " Poetry and Poets of Britain," by Daniel Scrymgeour, pp. S3 — 85 ; Cha.mbers's " Cyc Eng. Lit.," vol. i. ; Beeton's " Diet. Univ. Biog." BEAUMONT AlTD FLETCHER. Beaumont and Fletcher, bom 1586, died IGIG; born 157G, died 1G25. Those names, united by friendship and confederate genius, ought not to be disjoined. Francis Beau- mont was the son of Judge Beaumont of the Common Pleas, and was bom at Grace-Dieu, in Leicestershire, in 1586. He studied at Oxford, and passed from thence to the Inner Temple ; but his application to the law cannot be supposed to have been intense, as his first play, in conjunction with Fletcher, was acted in his twenty-first j'ear, and the short re- mainder of his hfo was devoted to the drama. He married Ursula, daughter and co-hcircss of Sir Henry Isley, of Kent, by whom he had two daughters, one of whom was alive, at a great age, in the year 1700. He died in 1616, and was buried at the entrance of St. Bene- dict's chapel, near the Earl of Middlesex's monument, in the collegiate church of St. Peter, Westminster. As a lyrical poet, F. Beaumont would be entitled to some remembrance, independent of his niche in the drama. John Fletcher was the son of Dr. E. Fletcher, bishop of London : he was born, X)ro])ably, in the metropolis, in 157G, and was admitted a pen- sioner of Bennet College about the age of fifteen. His time and progress at the univer- sity have not been traced, and only a few anecdotes have been gleaned about the manner of Ills life and death. Before the marriage of Beaumont, we arc told by Aubrey, that Fletcher and he lived together in London, near the Eankside, not far from the theatre. had one * * * in the same house between them, the same clothes, cloak, &c. Fletcher died in the great plague of 1625. A friend had invited him to the country, and he itu- fortunatoly stayed in tovni to get a suit of clothes for the visit, dm-ing which time he caught the fatal infection. Ho was interred in St. Saviour's, Southwark, where his grave, like that of Beaumont's in Westminster, is witliout an inscription. Fletcher survived his drama,tic associate ten years ; so that their share in the drama that passes by their joint names was far from equal in quantity, Fletcher having written between thirty and forty after the death of his companion. Eespocting those which ap- jieared in their common lifetime, the general account is, that Fletcher chiefly supplied the fancy and invention of their pieces, and that Beaumont, though he was the younger, dic- tated the cooler touches of taste and accuracy. This tradition is supported, or rather exagge- rated, in the verses of Cartwrightto Fletcher, in which he says, " Beaumont was fain To bid theo be more dull ; that's write again. And bate some of thy fire which from thee came In a cle.ir, bright, full, but too large a flame." Many versos to the same effect might bo quoted, but this tradition, so derogatory to Beaumont's genius, is contradicted by other testimonies of rather an earlier date, and coming from writers who must have known the gi-eat dramatists themselves much better than Cart-ivright. Ben Jonson speaks of Beaumont's originality with the emphasis peculiar to the expression of all his opinions ; and Earle, the intimate friend of Beaumont, ascribed to him, wlule Fletcher was stiU alive, the exclusive claim to those three distingiiished plays, the "Maid's Tragedy," " Pliilaster," and "King and No King"; a statement which Fletcher's friends were likely to have contradicted, if it had been untrue. If Beau- mont had the sole or chief merit of those pieces, he could not have been what Cart^vright would have us believe, the mere pruncr of Fletcher's luxuriances; an assessor, who made him write again and more dully. Indeed, with reverence to their memories, nothing that they have left us has much the ax^pearance of being twice written ; and whatever their amiable editor, Mr. Seward, may say about the correctness of their plots, the manage- ment of their stories would lead us to suspect, that neither of tlic duumvirate troubled them- selves much about correctness. Their charm is vigour and variety ; their defects, a coarse- ness and grotesqueness that betray no circum- spection. There is so much more hardihood than discretion in the arr.angement of their scenes, that if Beaumont's taste and judgment From 1558 to 1G49.] BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. had tho dipposal of them, ho fully proved him- self tho junior partner. But it id not pro- bal)lo that their depai-tments wore so divided. Still, however, the scanty lifjhts that enable lis to guess at what they respectively ^vrote, t:ocm to wan-ant that distinction in tho cast of their genius which is made in the poet's allusion to "Fletcher's keen treble, and deep Beau- mont's base." Beaumont was tho deeper scholar. Fletcher is said to have been more a man of tho world. Beaumont's vein was more pathetic and solemn, but ho was not without humour ; for tho mock-heroic scenes, that aro excellent in some of their plays, aro universally as- cribed to him. Fletcher's muse, except whore she sleeps in pastorals, seems to ha,ve been a nymph of boundless unblushing pleasantry, rictchcr's admirers warmly complimented his originality at tho expense of Beaumont, on tho strength of his superior gaiety, as if gay thoughts must necessarily be more original than serious ones, or depth of sensibility bo allied to shallowness of invention. Wo aro told also, that Beaumont's tasto leant to the liard and abstract school of Jonson, v.-hile his coadjutor followed the wilder graces of Shalc- spero. But if Earlo can bo credited for Beaumont's ha\-ing written " Philastcr," wo shall discover him in that tragedy to bo the very opposite of an abstract painter of charac- ter ; it has the spirit of individual life. Tho piece owes much less to art than it loses by negligence. Its forms and passions arc those of romance, and its graces, evidently imitated from SJiakspere, want only tho fillet and zone of art to consummate their beauty. On the whole, while it is generally allowed that Fletcher was the gayer, and Beaumont tho gi-aver genius of their amusing theatre, it is unnecessary to depreciate either, for they wcro both original and creative ; or to draw invitlious comparisons between men, who, themselves, disdained to bo rivals. See Cami)beirs "Specimens"; Fidler's "Worthies" ; Cunningham's "Biog. Hist, of Eng." ; Schlegel's "Dramatic Literature": "General Biog. Diet."; " Lord Maca-.day " ; Shaw's " Outlines of English Literature " ; Spalding's "Hist." SIR JOHN DAYIE3. Sir John Davies, bom 1570, died 102G. Ho was a native of ^Viltshi^o, educated at Queen's College, Oxford, and afterwards stuilicd law. In 1G03, ho was sent as Soli- citor-General to Ireland, soon rose to bo Attorney-General, and subsequently was ap- pointed one of tho Judges of Assize. In 1G07 he was knighted, and after filling several offices with great credit, ho was in 1626 ap- pointed Lord Chief Justice of England, but died sndilenly, before the ceremony of settle- ment or installation could bo performed. Campbell says that Sir John wus expelled from tho Temjilo for beating Richard Martin, v/ho was afterwards Recorder of London. His " Poeme of Dauncing," which ho wrote in fifteen days, appeared in 1506, and, curious enough, with a dedicatory sonnet " To his very Friend, Ma. Rich. ^Martin." In 1599, although the dedication to Queen Elizabeth bears date 1592, appeared his "NosceTeip- sum : this Oracle expounded in two Elegies ; 1st. Of Human Knov.dedge : 2nd. Of the Soul of Man and the Immortality thereof." Richard Baxter calls it " an excellent Poem, in open- ing the nature, faculties, and certain immor- tality of man's soul ; " and Hallam says, " Perhaps no language can produce a poem, extending to so gi-eat a length, of more con- densation of thought, or in which fewer lan- guid verses will bo found." " Sir John Davies and Sir William Dave- nant," writes Southey, " avoiding equally tho opposite faults of too artificial and too careless a style, wrote in numbers, which for precision and clearness, and felicity and strength, have never been surpassed." He published a number of law books; among which arc: "Reports of Cases in tho Law in the King's Courts in Ireland," 2 Jac. I., 10 Jac. I., 1604-12, with a learned preface. These were the first reports of Irish judgments which had ever been made public during tho 400 years that the laws of England had existed in that kingdom. "An Abridgement of Coke's Reports." The great Earl of Chatham, Bishop Nicolson, and other eminent men, speak in tho highest terms of Sir John. Indeed, in versa- tility of talent, brilliancy of imagination, political vrisdom, and literary taste, he has been equalled but by few Englishmen. — Seo Campbell's "Specimens"; AUibouc's "Crit. Diet. Eng. Lit. " ; " Athen. Oxon." ; Johnson and Chalmers's " English Poets " ; Marvin's "Legal Bibl."; WaUace's "Reporters": " Rctrosp. Review," vol. xliv., 1822. JOHN DON^NE, D.D. John Donne, D.D., bom 15TC, died ICSl. Tho life of Donne is more interesting than his poetry. He was descended from an an- cient family ; his mother was related to Sir Thomas More, and to Hevwood, the epigrani- uiatist. A prodigy of youthful learning, ho was entered of Hart Hall, now Hertford College, at the unprecedented ago of eleven : he studied afterwards with an extraordinary thirst for general knowledge, and seems to havo consumed a considerable patrimony on his education and travels. Having accom- jianicd the Earl of Essex in his expedition to Cadiz, ho purposed to havo set out on an lilOGEAPHICAL NOTICES. [Third Period. — extensive course of travels, and to have visited the holy sepulchre at Jerusalem. Thou,!,'-h compelled to give up his design by the in- superable dangers and difficulties of the journey, he did not come home till his mind had been stored with an extensive knowledge of foreign languages and manners, by a resi- dence in the south of Europe. On his return to England, the Lord Chancellor Ellesmere made him his secretary, and took him to his house. There he formed a mutual attachment to the niece of Lady Ellesmere, and without the means or prospect of support, the lovers thought proper to marry. The lady's father. Sir George More, on the declaration of this step, was so transported with rage, that he insisted on the chancellor's dri\ang Donne from his protection, and even got him im- prisoned, together with the witnesses of the marriage. He was soon released from prison, but the chancellor woidd not again take him into his service ; and the brutal father-in-law would not support the unfortunate pair. In their distress, however, they were sheltered by Sir Francis Wolley, a son of Lady Elles- mere by a former marriage, with whom they resided for several years, and were treated with a kindness that mitigated their sense of dependence. Donne had been bred a Catholic, but on mature reflection had made a conscientious renunciation of that faith. One of his warm friends, Dr. Morton, afterwards bishop of Durham, wished to have provided for him, by generously surrendering one of his benefices : he therefore pressed him to take holy orders, and to return to him the third day with his answer to the proposal. " At hearing of this," says his biographer, "Mr. Donne's faint breath and perplexed countenance gave visible testimony of an inward conflict. He did not, however, return his answer till the third day ; when, with fervid thanks, he declined the offer, telling the bishop that there were some errors of his life which, though long repented of, and pardoned, as ho trusted, by God, might yet be not forgotten by some men, and which might cast a dishonour on the sacred office." We are not told what those irregularities were ; but the conscience which could dictate such an answer was not likely to require great offences for a stumbling- block. This occurred in the poet's thirty- fourth year. After the death of Sir F. Wolley, his next protector was Sir Robert Drury, whom ho accompanied on an embassy to France. His wife, with an attachment as romantic as poet could wish for, had formed the design of accompanying him as a page. It v/as on this occasion, and to dissuade her from the design, that he addressed to her the verses beginning, " By our first strange and fatal interview." Isaak Walton relates, with great simplicitj% how the poet, one evening, as he sat alone in his chamber in Paris, saw the vision of his beloved wife appear to him with a dead infant in her arms, a story which wants only cre- dibility to bo interesting. He had at last the good fortune to attract the regard of King James ; and, at his majesty's instance, as he might now consider that ho had outlived the remembrance of his former follies, he was persuaded to become a clergyman. In this capacity he was suceossively appointed chap- lain to the king, lecturer of Lincoln's Inn, vicar of St. Dunstan's, Fleet Street, and Dean of St. Paul's. His death, at a late age, was occasioned by consumption. He was buried in St. Paul's, where his figure yet remains in the vault of St. Faith's, carved from a painting for which he sat a few days before his death, dressed in his winding-sheet. — SeeCampbell's "Specimens"; Scrymgeour's " Poetry and Poets of Britain " ; " London Quarterly Review," lix. 6, 1837 ; Isaak Wal- ton's "Life of Donne"; Walton's "Life," by Zouch ; Drake's " Shakspere and his Times"; " Retros. Rev.," viii. 31, 1823 j AUibone's " Crit. Diet. Eng. Lit." BEN JONSON. Ben Jonson, bom 1574, died 1637. Benja- min, or, according to his own abbreviation of signature, Ben Jonson, was born in West- minster. His family is said to have been originally from Annandale. Losing his father, a preacher in Westminster, before his birth, the benevolence of a friend placed him at Westminster School, where he attracted the notice of the celebrated Camden, at that period second master in that establishment. His mother having married a bricklayer, Ben was taken from school and made to work at his stepfather's business. From this disagree- able occupation he escaped by enlisting into the army. He served one campaign in the Low Countries, and on his return he is said to have been a short time at St. John's College, Cambridge ; but this wants confirma- tion. He took to the stage, fought a duel with a brother actor, whom he killed, and was thrown into prison. In prison he became a convert to the Roman Catholic religion, which he professed for a number of years afterwards. On his release he resumed his efforts to procure a subsistence from a connection with the theatres. Slender as were his resources and prospects, at the age of twenty he married ; and pursued with indomitable per- severance, under great disadvantages, those studies which ultimately rendered him one of the most learned men of his time. Although his talents procured him notice and distinction, his circumstances continued still straitened. Gilford disproves satisfactorily tlio frequently alleged generous patronage of Jonson, in his From 1558 to 1C49.] BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. necessity, by Sliakapere, and, equally satis- factorily, the alle-jed inj^atituilo and malignity of Jonson. His eai-ly elfortfl, as was the custom of the time, were made in joint works with Marstou, Decker, and others. His first ackuowlcdjjod iiiece that has descended to us is " Every Man in Ids Humour." Its success, if not materially improving his finances, prodigiously increased his reputation. A rapid succession of pieces of great excellence placed him in the first rank of dramatic ^vTiters. Fairer prospects of emolument opened to him on the accession of James I. I'rom that period ho almost abandoned the stage, and employed himself in the production of his series of beaiitiful masques for the amusement of the Coiu-t and of the nobility. This species of writing Jonson may claim tho credit of ha\nng brought to perfection, and it may almost be said to have died with him. It was during these happier years that ho aciiuired those habits of conviviality to which his enemies have given a less gentle name. His company was courted by all tho talent of tho time, and tho suppers of the " Mer- maid" are mentioned with enthusiasm by those who had enjoyed their keen encounters of contending wits. Much of the obloquy against Jonson has ai-iscn from a result of a journey he undertook to Scotland in 1G18. He had visited tho poet Drummond of Haw- thomden. Drummond' s notes of their conver- sations were published partially, under the sanction of his son, La 1711, long after liis own and Jonson's death. They contained strictures, reckoned to be malignant, on many of Jonson's contemporaries and on some of his patrons. Jonson's biographer, Gilford, falls furiously on Drummond for the treachery implied in tho noting down of confidential conversations, as these have been the founda- tion of aspersions of the worst kind on Jonson's character. The death of James deprived Jonson of a kind and indulgent patron. He had succeeded Daniel in tho hitherto honorary office of laureate, and received for it a small pension ; but he was neglected by Charles I., and the concluding years of his Ufo were spent under the pressure of poverty and disease, during wliich, however, his indefatigable pen was seldom unemployed. Ho died in 1G37, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. Tho flagstone over his grave was inscribed bj' some familiar friend with the words " Oh, rare Ben Jonson." Gilford heroically defends Jonson from tho calumnies heaped on his memory, especially by tho commentators of Shakspcre, and vindicates for his author tho possession of qualities that commanded tho afToction and respect of the first men of tho time, and caused his death to bo felt as a public loss. He seems to have been a man of strong and independent character ; somewhat rough and arrogant in manner, but liberal and kind- hearted in temper, with the frankness and bluntness of a true Englishman. His works display a veneration for all that is high- minded and virtuous ; his learning is so prodigious that his commentators ] ant with difficulty after his footsteps. He has not been popular since his o^vn ago ; Gilford assigns for tliia various reasons. — See vol. i. p. 135, ct scq. His characters want indivi- duality, and illustrate "humours" rather than minds. His wit is brilliant, "but does not make the heart laugh." His two trage- dies, "Sejanus" and "Catiline," loftj', ornate, and correct in the costume of Koman manners, are frigid and passionless. " In the plots of his comedies he is deserving of undisputed praise." Aristophanes, Terence, and Plautus are his models. At the head of his comedies in reputation stand " Tho Fox, the Alchemist, and Silent Woman, Done by Ben Jonson, and outdone by no man." His language is ner^'0us and masculine ; " per- haps," says Di-j'den, "he did a little too much Eomanize our tongue." His masques abound in passages of the most airy and animated beautj*. Leigh Hunt in his " Men, Women, and Books," says, "I do not tliink that his poetical merits are yet properly appreciated. I cannot consent that the palm of humour alone shall be given to him whUo in wit, feeling, pathos, and poetical diction he is to be sunk fathoms below Fletcher and Massin- ger. In the last particular I think that he excels them both, and, indeed, all his contem- poraries except Shakspeare." Sec Serj-mgeour's "Poetry and Poets of Britain"; Schlegel's " Dramat. Art and Lit."; Hazlitt's "Lect. on the English Comic Writers " ; Disraeli's "Amenities of Literature"; the "Humours of Jonson"; Austin and Ealph's "Lives of the Poets-Laureato " ; Mary Russell Mitford's " Recollections of a Literaiy Life." JOSEPH HALL, D.D. Joseph Hall, D.D., bom 1574, died 1656, one of the most eminent English divines and scholars, was a native of Ashbj'-dc-la-Zouch, and educated at Emanuel College, Cambridge, where, for a short time, he read the Rhetoric Lecture in the Schools. He became Rector of Halstcad, was subsequently presented by Lord Denny to Waltluim Holy Cross, and next mtulc a Prebendary of tho CoUcgiatc Church of Wolverhampton. In 1G18 ho was sent to the Synod of Dort, was made Bishop of Exeter in 1G27, and translated to Norwich in 1G41. On the occurrence of the rebellion, after suflfcring imprisonment and enduring various BIOGEAPHICAL NOTICES. [TniED Period. — ' other liardships, he was sequesterecl and rocluccd to great poverty. He retired to Higham, near Norwich, where he spent the rest of his days on a straitened income, but in the active discharge of ministerial duty. As a man of profound learning, fervent piety, and practical philanthropy, his name should bo had in ever- lasting remembrance. He was distinguished as a poet and as a prose ^^'riter, and wrote many sermons, controversial tracts against Eoman- i?m, and other theological treatises. The Eev. John Whitef ooto, in liis funeral sermon, says : " He was noted for a singular wit from his youth ; a most acute rhetorician and an ele- gant poet. He understood many tongues; and in the rhetoricli of his own he was second to none that lived in his time." See AUi- bone's "Crit. Diet. Eng. Lit." ; "Selections of Hall's Works," by Eev. Josiah Pratt, 1808 ; Ormo's "Eibl.Eib."; Dibdin's "Lit. Comp." ; Bicker steth's " Christian Student " ; Hallam's " Lit. Hist, of Europe " ; Fuller's " Worthies of Leicestershire " ; Eev. Chas. Bridges' s " Memoir of MissM. J. Graham" ; CampbcU's " Specimens." EICHAED COEBET. This witty and good-natiircd bishop was born in 1582. He was the son of a gardener, who, however, had the honour to be known to and sung by Ben Jonson. He was educated at Westminster and Oxford ; and having received orders, was made successively Bishop of Ox- ford and of Norwich. He was a most facetious and rather too convivial person ; and a collec- tion of anecdotes about him might be made, little inferior, in point of wit and coarseness, to that famous one, once so popular in Scot- land, relating to the sayings and doings of George Buchanan. He is said, on one occa- sion, to have aided an unfortunate ballad- singer in his professional duty by arraying himself in his leathern jacket and vending the stock, being possessed of a fine presence and a clear, full, ringing voice. Occasionally doffing his clerical costume, ho adjourned with his chaplain, Dr. Lushington, to the wine-cellar, where care and ceremony were both speedily drov.-ned, the one of the pair exclaiming, "Here's to thee, Lushington," and the other, "Here's to thee, Corbet." Men winked at these irregularities, probably on the principle mentioned by Scott, in refer- ence to Prior Aymer, in " Ivanhoe," — " If Prior Ajnner rodo hard in the chase, or re- mained late at the banquet, men only shrugged up their shoulders ])y recollecting that the same irregularities were practised by many of his brethren, who had no redeeming qualities whatsoever to atone for them." Corbet, on the other hand, was a kind as well as a con- vivial — a warm-hearted as well as an eccentric man. He was tolerant to the Puritans and sectaries ; Ma attention to his duties was re- spectable ; his talents were of a high order, and he had in him a vein of genius of no ordinary kind. Ho died in 1G35, but his poems were not published till 1647. They aro of various merit, and treat of various subjects. In his "Journey to France," you see the humourist, who, on one occasion, when the country people were flocking to be confirmed, cried, " I5ear off, there, or I'll confirm ye with my staff." In his lines to his son Vincent, we see, notmthstanding all his foibles, the good man ; and in his " Farewell to the Fairies," the fine and fanciful poet. See Gilfillan's "Memoirs of the Less Known British Poets"; Aubrey's "Letters"; "Life," by Gilchrist; "Athen. Oxon." DE. HENEY KING. Dr. Henry King, born 1592, died 16G9. He was chaplain to James I. and Bishop of Chichester. His poems, elegies, paradoxes, and sonnets have a neatness, elegance, and even a tenderness which entitle them to more attention than they now obtain. To this testimony of Peter Cunningham, Eobert Chambers says, " His language and imagery are chaste and refined." See Campbell's " Specimens ' Chambers's " Cycl. Eng. Lit." voL i. 118. BE. WILDE. Dr. WUde was a dissenting minister. We know not the dates of his birth and death. Ho vrrotQ "Iter Boreale" a poem; and a comedy, entitled " The Benefice." THOMAS CAEEW. This delectable versifier was born in 1589, in Gloucestershire, from an old family in which he sprung. He was educated at Corpus Christi College, Oxford, but neither matricu- lated nor took a degree. After finishing his travels, he returned to England, and became soon liighly distinguished, in the Court of Charles I., for his manners, accomplishments, and wit. He was appointed Gentleman of tho Privy Chamber and Sewer in Ordinary to the King. He spent the rest of his life as a gay and gallant courtier ; and in the intervals of pleasure produced some light but exquisite poetry. He is said, ere his death, which took place in 1639, to have become very devout, and bitterly to have deplored the licentious- ness of some of his verses. Indehcato choice of subject is often, in Carew, combined with gi'eat delicacy of execu- tion. No one touches dangerous themes with From 1558 to 1040.] BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. so light and glove-guarded a hand. His pieces arc all fugitive, but they suggest great possi- bilities, which his mode of life and his lu-onia- turo removal did not permit to bo realized. Had he, at an earlier period, renounced, like George Herbert, " the painted jdoasures of a court," and, like Prospero, dedicated himself to "closeness," with his marvellous facility of verso, his laboured levity of style, and his nice oxiiboranco of fancy, ho might have pro- duced somo work of Horatian merit and classic permanence. See GilfiDan's " Speci- mens and Memoirs of the Less-knov/n British Poets"; "Athou. Oxon." ; Lloyd's "Wor- thies"; Langbainc's " Drauiatick Poetry"; "Bishop Percy"; Hoadloy's "Beauties of Ancient English Poetry"; also Ilallam's " Introduction to Literary History." GEOEGE WITHER. Goorgo Wither, born 1588, died 1GG7, was n voluminous author, in the midnt of disasters and sufferings that would liavo damped the spirit of any but the most adventurous and untiring enthusiast. Somo of his happiest strains were composed in prison : his limbs were incarcerated within stone walls and iron bars, but his fancy was among the hills and plains, with shepherds hunting, or loitering with Poesy, by rustling boughs and murmur- ing springs. There is a freshness and natural vivacity in the poetry of Wither, that render his early works a " perpetual feast." Wo cannot say that it is a feast " where no crude surfeit reigus," for ho is often harsh, obscure, and affected ; bub ho has an endless diversity of stylo and subjects, and true poetical feeling and expression. W'ithcr was a native of Hampshire, and received his education at IMagdalcn College, Oxford. He first appeared as an author in the year 1G13, when he jiub- lishcd a satire, entitled "Abuses Stript and Whipt." For this ho was thrown into the lilarshalsea, where he comx^oscd his fino poem, "The Shepherds' Hunting." Wlion the abuses satirised by the poet had accumulated and brought on the civil war, Wither took the popular side, and sold his paternal estate to raise a troop of horse for the parliament. Ho rose to the rank of a major, and in lGt2 was mado governor of Famhara Castle, after- wards held by Denham. Wither was accused of deserting his appointment, and the castle was ceded the same j-ear to Sir William Waller. During the struggles of that period, the poet was made prisoner by the royalists, and stood in danger of capital punishment, when Donham interfered for his brother bard, alleging, th.at as long as Wither lived, ho (Donham) would not bo considered the worst poet in England. The joko was a good one, if it saved Wither' s life ; but George was not frightened from the perilous contentions of the times. He was afterwards one of Crom- well's majors-general, and kept watch and ward over tho royalists of Surrey. From the Kequestrated estates of those gentlemen, Wither obtained a considerable fortune ; but the Restoration came, and ho was stript of all his possessions. Ho remonstrated loudly and angrily ; his remonstrances were voted libels, and the uiducky poet was again thrown into prison. Ho published various treatises, satires, and poems, during this period, though ho was treated with great rigour. He was released, under bond for good behaviour, in 1663, and survived nearly four years after- wards, dying in Loudon on tho 2nd of May 1GG7. "Wither' s famo as a poet is derived cliiefly from his early productions, written before ho had imbibed tho sectarian gloom of tho Pu- ritans, or becomo embroiled in the struggles of tho civil war. A collection of liis poems was pubUshed by himself in 1G22, with tho title, "Mistress of Philareto ; " his "Shep- herds' Himting," being certain Eclogues written during the time of tho author's im- prisonment in tho Marshalsoa, appeared in 1633. His " Collection of Emhlcms, Ancient and Modern, Quickened with Metrical Illus- trations," made their appearance in 1G35. His satirical and controversial works were nume- rous, but are now forgotten. Somo authors of our own day (Mr. Southey in particular) have helped to popularise Wither, by frequent quotation and eulogy ; biit ]\Ir. Ellis, in his " Specimens of Early English Poets," was tho first to point out " that playful fancy, pure taste, and artless delicacy of sentiment, which distinguish tho poetry of his early youth." His poem on Christmas affords a lively picture of the manners of the times. His " Address to Poetry," the sole yet cheering companion of his prison solitude, is worthy of tho theme, and superior to most of tho effusions of that period. The pleasure with which he recounts the various charms and the "divine skill" of his Muse, that had derived nourishment and delight from tho "meanest objects" of ex- ternal nature — a daisy, a bush, or a tree ; and which, wlion these picturesque and beloved scenes of the country were denied him, could gladden even tho vaults and shades of a prison, is one of the richest offerings that has yet been mado to the pure and hallowed shrino of poesy. Tho superiority of intellectual l^ursuits over the gi-atifications of sense, and all tho malice of fortune, has never been more touchingly or finely illustrated. See Cliam- bers's " Cycl. Engl. Lit. " vol. i. 125 ; Camp- bell's " Specimens " ; R. A. Willmotfs ■• Lives of the Sacred Poets," a delightful work. ■\^^LLIAIM beo"\\t;e. William Browne, bom 1590. died 1615. Ho was a native of Tavistock, in Devonshire, and BIOGEAPHICAL NOTICES. [Third Period. — educated at Exeter CoUesro, Oxford, aboiit the beginning of the reig^n of James I. Ho wrote "Britannia's Pastoralls"; "The Shepherd's Pipe"; and other poems. His poetiy was very popular in his own day, but fell after- wards into neglect. Yet Thomas MiUer, one of the most delicious ^vriters on country scenes of the present day, says, " He carries with him the true aroma of old forests ; his lines are mottled with mosses, and there is a gnai'led ruggedness upon the stems of liis trees. His waters have a wet look and sijlasliing sound about them, and you feel the fresh air play around you while you read. His birds are the free denizens of the fields, and they send their songs so life-like through the covert, that their music rings upon the ear, and you are carried away with his sweet pipings." See Allibone's " Grit. Diet. Eng. Lit."; "London Monthly Eev.," 1772; Sir Egerton Brydges's ed. of Browne's " Poems." FEAN-CIS QUAELES. Francis Quarles, born 1592, died 1644. His writings are more like those of a divine, or contemplative recluse, than of a busy man of the world, who held various pubhc situa- tions, and died at the age of fifty-two. Quarles was a native of Esses, educated at Cambridge, and afterwards a student of Lincoln's Inn. He was successively cuxj-bearcr to Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia, secretary to Archbishop Usher, and chronologer to the city of London. He espoused the cause of Charles I., and was so harassed by the opposite party, who in- jui'ed his property, and plundered him of his books and rare manuscripts, that his death was attributed to the affliction and ill-health caused by these disasters. Notwithstanding his loyalty, the works of Quarles have a tinge of Puritanism and ascetic piety that might have mollified the rage of his perse- cutors. His poems consist of various pieces — " Job Mihtant " ; " Sion's Elegies " ; " The History of Queen Esther " ; " Argalus and Parthenia" ; "The Morning Muse"; "The Feast of Worms"; and "The Divine Em- blems." The latter were published in 1645, and were so popular, that Phillips, Milton's nephew, styles Quarles " the darling of our plebeian judgments." The eidogium still holds good to some extent, for the Divine Emblems, with their quaint and grotesque illustrations, are still found in the cottages of our peasants. Aft3r the Eestoration, when everything sacred and serious was cither ne- glected or made the subject of ribald jests, Quarles seems to have been entirely lost to the public. Even Pope, who, had he read him, must have reUshed his lively fancy and poetical expression, notices only his bathos and absurdity. The better and more tolerant taste of modem times has admitted the divine emblemist into the "laurelled frater- nity of poets," where, if he docs not occupy a conspicuous place, he is at least sure of his due measure of homage and attention. Em- blems, or the union of the graphic and poetic arts, to inculcate lessons of morality and religion, had been tried with success by Peacham and "Wither. Quarles, however, made Herman Hugo, a Jesuit, his model, and from the " Pia Desideria " of this author copied a great part of his prints and mottoes. His style is that of his age — studded with conceits, often extravagant in conception, and presenting the most outre and ridicvdous combinations. There is strength, however, amidst his contortions, and true wit mixed up with the false. His epigrammatic point, uniting -wit and devotion, has been considered the precursor of Young's " Night Thoughts." The fastidiotis and elegant taste of Campbell evidently influenced him in giving judgment on Quarles, and although there is much truth in what he says, still he treats unjustly the various good qualities of this poet. See Chambers's " Cycl. Eng. Lit. " i. 129 ; CampbeU's " Speci- mens " ; E. A. WiUmott's " Lives of the Sacred Poets " ; " Eetrosp. Eev." v. 180. EICHAED CEASHAW. Eichard Crashaw, born 1615 (?), died 1650. His father was a i^reacher at the Temple Church in London. The time of the poet's birth is uncertain. In 1637 he is found in possession of a fellowship in Cambridge, from which he was ejected by the ParUamentary army for non-compliance with the covenant. He went to France, and became a Eoman Catholic. By the patronage of the exiled English queen, Henrietta Maria, he obtained an ecclesiastical situation in Italy, and became a canon of the Church of Loretto, where he died. Crashaw' s poetry is of a fervid religious character. He " formed his style on the most quaint and conceited school of Italian poetry, that of Marino" (Campbell), whoso " Sospetto d'Herode " he partly translated. It is chiefly in translation that the strength of Crashaw is visible. His pieces are never tedious, but full of the strained and exaggerated conceits of the school of Donne ; he had a rich warm fancy, and a delicate ear for music. The Eoman Catholic cast of his religious poetry may have contributed to its neglect in this country. See Scrymgeour's " Poetry and Poets of Britain"; Allibone's " Crit. Diet. Eng. Lit. " ; Dr. Johnson's " Life of Cowley" ; Ellis's "Specimens"; Campbell's "Speci- mens." GEOEGE HEEBEET. George Herbert, born 1593, died 1632, was a descendant of the Earls of Pembroke, and a From 1558 to 1649.] BIOGEAPHICAL NOTICES. j'oungor brother of Lord Herbert of Chcr- Ijury. Ho was boru at Montf,''oincry Castlo in WaJbs, educated at Westminster School, and there elected to Trinity College, Cambridge, of which ho was elected fellow ; University Orator IGll) ; took holy orders and was made Prebendary of Laytoii Ecclesia, in the dioceso of Lincoln, by Archbishop Williams ; and in 1630 was presented Ijy Charles L to the livinfj of Ccmerton. For the deeply interesting account of this pood man's life our readers must turn to the charming pages of Izaak Wal- ton. He published several works in prose and poetry ; one of the best is " The Temple, Sacred Poems and Private Ejaculations." Within a few weeks of its issue from the press, twenty thousand copies were sold. The " Priest to the Temple, or the Country Parson ; his Character and Kule of Holy Life " is much admired. Coleridge thus speaks of our poet : "Having mentioned the name of Herbert, that model of a man, a gentleman, and a clergyman, let me add, that the quaintness of some of his thoughts — not his diction, than which nothing can bo more pure, manly, and unaH'ected, has blinded modem readers to the general merits of his poems, which are for the most part ex- quisite in their kind." Cowpcr, in liis melan- choly, when neither nature nor the classics had any charms for him, found pleasure in reading Herbert. He saj's, " At length I met with Herbert's Poems, and gothic and uncouth as they were, I yet found in tlicm a strain of piety which I could not but admire. This was the only author I had any delight in reading. I pored over him all day long, and though I found not here what I might have found — a cure for my malady — yet it never seemed so much alleviated as while I was reading him." There is an exquisite sketch of Herbert's life and critique on his poems in Gilfillan's " In- troduction to the Poet's Works." See Preface to " Silex Scintillans, or Sacred Poems and Private Ejaculations"; Baxter's "Poetical Fragments " ; E. A. Willmott's " Lives of the Sacred Poets"; Allibono's "Crit. Diet. Eng. Lit." GILES FLETCHER. Giles Fletcher, bom 1588, died 1623. Ho was the younger brother of Phineas, and died twenty-throo years before him. He was a cousin of Fletcher the dramatist, and the son of Dr. Giles Fletcher, who was employed in many important missions in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, and, among others, negotiated a commercial treaty with Russia greatly in the favour of his own country. Giles is supposed to have been bom in l.jSS. He studied at Cam- bridge ; pubbshod his noble poem, " Christ's Victory and Triumph," iu 1610, when he was twenty- three years of ago; was appointed to the living of Alderston, in Suffolk, where ho died, in 1623, at the early ago of thirty-five, "equally loved," says old Wood, "of the Muses and the Graces." The poem, in four cantos, entitled " Christ's Victory and Triumph," is one of almost Miltonic magnificence. With a wing as easy as it is strong, ho soars to heaven, and fills the austere mouth of Justice and the golden lips of Llercy with language worthy of both. Ho then stoops down on the Wilderness of the Temptation, and paints the Saviour and Satan in colours admirably contrasted, and which in their biightuess and bhickness can never decaj'. Nor does he fear, in fine, to pierce the gloom of Calvarj*, and to minglo his note with the harps of angels, saluting the Redeemer, as Ho sprang from the grave, with the song, " He is risen, He is risen — and shall die no more." The style is steeped in Spenser — equally mellifluous, figurative, and majestic. In allegory the author of the "Fairy Queen" is hardly superior, and in tlio enthusiasm of devotion Fletcher suri^asses him far. From the great light tlins early kindled and early quenched, Milton did not disdain to draw with his " golden urn." " Parailisc Regained " owes much more than the suggestion of its subject to " Christ's Victory ; " and is it too much to say that, had Fletcher lived, he might have shono in the same constellation with the bard of the "Paradise Lost"? The plan of our "Specimens" permits only a few extracts. Let those who wish more, along with a lengthened and glowing tribute to the author's genius, oonsidt Blackwood for November, 1835. The reading of a single sentence will convince them that the author of the paper was Christopher North. — (Gilfillan's Specimens u-itli2Iem. of the Lcss-Jcnou-n British Poets, \ol.i. 190.) Antony Wood tell us that Giles was " equally beloved of the Muses and the Graces." See Hcadley's "Beauties Anc. Eng. Poet."; Campbell's " Specimens " ; Hallam's " In- troduction to Lit. of Eui-ope " ; Allibone. PHINEAS FLETCHER. We have already spoken of GUes Fletcher, the brother of Phineas. Of Phineas we know nothing except that he was born in 1584, educated at Eton and Cambridge, became Rector at Hilgay, in Norfolk, where ho re- mained for twenty-nine years, surviving his brother; that he wrote an account of the founders and learned men of his university ; that in 1633 he published " The Purple Island " ; and that in 1650 he died. His " Pnrplo Island " (with which we first became acquainted in the writings of j!unes Hervey, author of tho "Meditations," who was its fervent admirer) is a curious, complex, and highlj' ingenious allegory, forming an BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. [Thied Period.- olaborate picture of Man, in his body and soul ; and for subtlety and infinite flexibility, both of fancy and verse, deserves great praise, although it cannot for a moment bo compared with his brother's " Christ's Victory and Triumph," either in interest of subject or in splendour of genius.— (GilfiUan's Specimens of Less-knotun British Pods, vol. i. 315.) The great Milton is said to have ingenuously confessed that ho owed his immortal work of " Paradise Lost" to Mr. Fletcher's '• Locustce." See " Eetrosp. Rev." ii. 342, 120; Hoadley; Hallam ; Prcf. to Rev. J. Sterling's Poems ; Warton. WILLIAil HABINGTON. William Habington, born 1G05, died 1654. This amiable man and irreproachable poet was born at Hindlip, in Worcestershire, on the 5th of November, 1605, — a most memor- able day in the history of the Habington family ; for they were Papists. The discovery of the gunpowder plot is believed to have come from his mother; and his father, who had been sLs years imprisoned for his supposed concern in Babiugton's conspiracy, was con- demned to die for concealing some of the gun- powder traitors in his house. Whether or not he had actually been so far implicated ia their legal guilt is not certain; but ho owed liis pardon to the intercession of his brothcr-in- lav/. Lord Morley. They were a wealthy family. WiUlam was educated in the Jesuit College at St. Omcr, and afterwards at Paris, in the hope that ho might enter into that society. But he pre- ferred a wiser, and better, and happier course of life ; and returning to his ov/u country, married Lucy, daughter of William Herbert, first Lord Powis, the Castara of his poems. He died when he had just completed his fortieth year, and was buried in the family vault at Hindlip. The poems were introduced, for the first time, into a general collection, by Mr. Chalmers, most properly. He appears in them to have thoroughly deserved the happiness which during his short life he enjoj'ed. — (Southey's Brit. Poet. 975.) The Laureate was mistaken in saying "fortieth year," it was in his forty-ninth year that Habington died. Soo Gilfillan's "Spec, with Mem. of Less-known Brit. Poets'" ; AUi- bone's " Crit. Diet. Eng. Lit." ; " Cens. Lit." viii. 227-233, also pp. 387-396; Headley's " Anc. Eng. Poet." SIR JOHN SUCKLING. Sir John Suckhng, bom 1608, died 1641. This poet, who gives levity its gayest ex- pression, was the son of the comptroller of the household to Charles I. Langbaine tells us that ho spoke Latin at five years of age ; but with what correctness or fluency wo aro not informed. His versatile mind cci-tainty acquii'cd many accomplishments, and filled a short life with many pursuits, for he was a traveller, a soldier, a lyric and dramatic poet, and a musician. After serving a campaign under Gustavus Adolphus, ho returned to England, was favoui-ed by Charles I., and wrote some pieces, which were exhibited for the amusement of the court with sumptuous splendour. When the ci%al wars broke out ho expended .£1200 on the equipment of a regi- ment for the king, which was distinguished, however, only by its finery and cowardice. ' A brother poet crowned his disgrace with a ludicrous song. The event is said to have aS"ected him deeply with shame ; but he did not live long to experience that most incurable of the heart's diseases. Having learnt that his servant had robbed him, he drew on his boots in groat haste ; a rusty nail, that wan concealed in one of them, pierced his heel, and produced a mortification, of which he died. His poems, his five plays, together with his letters, speeches, and tracts, have been col- lected into ono volume.— (Campbell's Speci- mens, p. 181.) JOHN CHALKHILL. « Jolm Chalkhill is a name prefixed by Izaak Walton to a work published by him in 1683, entitled " Thealma and Clearchus : a Pastoral History in Smooth and Easie Verse." Some have supposed the work written by the genial angler himself; but this can scarcely be, when he describes Chalkhill as a man in his time " generally known and as well beloved ; for ho v/as humble and obliging in his behaviour ; a gentleman, a scholar, very in- nocent and prudent ; and indeed his whole life was useful, quiet, and virtuous." The "Lond. Retrosp. Rev.," 1821, pronounces " the versification extremely sweet and equable. Occasionally harsh lines and un- licensed rhymes occur ; but they are only exceptions to the general style of the poem — the errors of haste or neghgence." Gilfillan writes in his highest style of eloquence about this poem : — " Thealma and Clearchus" may be called the "Arcadia" in rhyme. It re- sembles that work of Sir Philip Sidney, not only in subject, but in execution. Its plot is dark and puz/ding, its descriptions are rich to luxuriance, its narrative is tedious, and its characters are mere shadows. But although a dream, it is a dream of genius, and brings beautifully before our imagination that early period in the world's history, in which poets and painters have taught us to beheve, when the lieavens were nearer, the skies clearer, the fat of the earth richer, the foam of the sea brighter, than in our degenerate days ; — v/hen From 1558 to 1649.] BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. shepherds, reposing umler broad, nmbrageouR oaks, saw, or thou^jht thoj'.=aw, in the groves tho shadows of angels, and on the mouutain- Biimmits the descending footsteps of God. Chalkhill resembles, of all our modern poct.s, perhaps Shelley most, in tho ideahtj' of his conception, tho enthusiasm of his spirit, and tho unmitigated gorgeousness of his imagi- nation. WILLIAM CARTWRIGIIT. TVilliam Cartwri-ht, born IGll, died 1C43. He was a native of Northway, Gloucestershire, educated at Westminster, and Christchurch, Oxford. Ho was ordained in 1G38. In 1613 ho was chosen Proctor of tho University of Oxford and Reader in Metaphysics, and died the same j-ear of malignant fever. He wrote " The Royal Slave," a Tragi-Comedy ; " Tragi- comedies, with other Poems " ; " Poemata Grasca et Latina"; and other pieces. Cart- wright was hold in high estimation by his contemporaries. Dr. Fell, Bishop of O.xford, says : " Cartwright is the utmost man can come to." Ben Jonson writes : " My son Cartwright writes like a man." Anthony Wood declares, that " ho was another Tully and Virgil, as being most excellent for orator^' and poetry." Gerard Langbaino confirms all this eulogium by : " He was extremely remark- able both for his outward and inward endow- ments, his body being as handsome as his soul. He was an excellent orator, and yet an admirable poet — a quality which Cicero, with all his pains, could not r.ttain to." Tho king, who was at Oxford when ho died, went in mourning for him. Gilfillan says : " One is reminded of tho description given of Jeremy Taylor, who, when he first began to preach, by his young and florid beautj-, and his sub- lime and raised discourses, made men take liim for an angel newly descended from tho climes of Paradise." See Allibone'3 " Crit. Diet. Eng. Lit." ROBERT HERRICK. Robert Herrick, bom 1591, died 16G2 (r). Ho is said to have been descended from Eric, a Danish chief who lived in tho time of Alfred the Great. Ho was born in Cheapside, London, studied at Cambridge, pro.-entod to the living of Dean Prior, Devonshire, in IG'29; was deprived by Cromwell in 1648, and re- instated in his living by Charles II. in 16G0. At tho age of fifty-six he publi.-^hed his " Noblo Numbers, or Pious Pieces," and soon after his " Hesperides, or Works both Human and Divine, of Robert Herrick. Esq.," liis minis- terial prefix being now laid aside. Many of | these poems were very licentiouH ; but under- neath all there can bo discerned a liighcr nature, which, had it fallen on t seem the poet ■wished to pollute and bury his best efi'usions in a mass of non- sense and obscenity. iUlibono says, " Herrick is a most exquisite poet, but unfortunately delighted with tho wanderings of a libertine muse." Mary Russell Mitford, in her charm- ing " Recollections of a Literary Life," tells us that " his real delight was among flowers and bees, and nymphs and cupids ; and certainly these graceful subjects were never handled more gracefully." Campbell says, whilst ad- mitting, as every one must, the sad licentious- ness of Herrick, th;it " where the ore is pure, it is of higli value." In the fortj'-fifth volume of Blackwood's Magazine tho writer re- marks that oui- poet displays considerable facility of simiilo diction and considerable variety of lyrical versification. He is suc- cessful in imitating the sprightliness of Ana- creontic gaiety and the lucid neatness of the ancient anthologists." And the " London Retrospective Review," t. 156-180, adds, " his poems resemble a luxuriant meadow, full of king-cups and wild flowers, or a July firma- ment, sparkling with a myriad stars. But let our poet in his more thoughtful moments speak : " For these my unbaptized rhymes — Writ in my wild unhallowed times, — For everj' sentence, clause, and word. That 's not inlaid with thee, Lord ! Forgive me, God, and blot each lino Out of my book that is not thine. But if 'mongst all thou findest one "Worthy thy benediction, That one of all the rest shall bo The glory of my work and me." Peace be to his ashes ! RICHARD LOVELACE. Richard Lovelace, bom 161S, died 1658. Gilfillan, in an admirable article on this writer, says : " This unlucky cavalier and bard was born in IGIS. He was tho son of j Sir William Lovelace, of Woolwich, in Kent. He was educated, some say at Oxford, and others at Cambridge — took a master's degree. BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. [Third Period.- and was afterwards presented at Com'fc. An- thony Wood thus describes his personal appearance at the ag'O of sixteen : — ' Ho was the most amiable and beautiful person that eye ever beheld, — a person also of innate modesty, virtue, and courtly deportment, which made him then, but especially after when he retired to the great city, much admired and adored by the fair sex.' Soon after this, he was chosen by the county of Kent to deliver a petition from the inhabi- tants to the House of Commons, praying tliom to restore the king to his rights, and to settle the government. Such offence was given by this to the Long Parliament, that Lovelace was thrown into prison, and only liberated on heavy bail. His paternal estate, which amounted to .£500 a-year, was soon exhausted in his efforts to promote the royal cause. In 16-1(>. he formed a regiment for the service of the King of France, became its colonel, and was wounded at Dunkirk. Ere leaving Eng- land, he had formed a strong attachment to a Miss Lucy Sacheverell, and had written much poetry in her praise, designating her as Lux-Casta. Unfortunately, hearing a report that Lovelace had died at Dunkirk of his wounds, she married another, so that, on his return home in 1648, he met a deep disap- pointment ; and to complete his misery, the ruling powers cast him again into prison, where he lay till the death of Charles. Like some other men of genius, he beguiled his confinement by literary employment ; and in 1649, he published a book under the title of ' Lucasta,' consisting of odes, sonnets, songs, and miscellaneous poems, most of which had been previously composed. After the execu- tion of the king, he was liberated ; but his funds were exhausted, his heart broken, and his constitution probably injured. Ho gra- dually sunk ; and Wood says that he became very poor in body and purse, was the object of charity, ' went in ragged clothes, and mostly lodged in obscure and dirty places.' Alas for the Adonis of sixteen, the beloved of Lucasta, and the envied of all ! Some have doubted these stories about his extreme poverty ; and one of his biographers asserts, that his daughter and solo heir (but who, pray, was his wife and her mother P) married the son of Lord Chief Justice Coke, and brought to her husband the estates of her father at Kingsdown, in Kent. Aubrey, how- ever, corroborates the statements of Wood ; and, at all events, Lovelace seems to have died, in 1658, in a wretched alloy near Shoe Lane. There is not much to be said about his poetry. It may be compared to his person — beautiful, but dressed in a stiff mode. We do not, in every point, homologate the opinions of Prynne, as to the ' unloveliness of love- locks ; ' but we do certainly look ■with a mixture of contempt and pity on tho self- imposed trammels of affectation in style and manner which bound many of the poets of that period. The wits of Charles II. were more disgustingly licentious : but their very carelessness saved them from the conceits of their predecessors ; and, while lowering tho tone of morality, they raised un^vittingly tho standard of taste. Some of the songs of Lovelace, however, such as ' To Althea, from Prison,' are exquisitely simple, as well as pm-e. Sir Egcrton Brydges has found out that Byron, in one of his bepraised para- doxical beauties, either copied, or coincided with, our poet. In the ' Bride of Abydos,' he saj's of Zuleika — ' The mind, the music breatliing from her face.' Lovelace had, long before, in tho song of ' Orpheus Mourning for his Wife,' employed tho words — ' Oh, coidd you view the melody Of every grace. And music of her face, You'd drop a tear ; Seeing more harmony In her bright cyo Than now you hear.' Wliilo many have praised, others have called this idea nonsense ; although, if we are permitted to speak of the harmony of the tones of a cloud, why not of the harmony pro- duced by the consenting lines of a counte- | nance, where every grace melts into another, and the various features and expressions fluc- tuate into a fine whole ? Whatever, whether it bo the beauty of the human face, or the quiet lustre of statuary, or the mild glory of moonlight, gives the effect of music, and, like that divine art, ' Pours on mortals a beautiful disdain,' may surely become music's metaphor and poetic analogy." To this beautiful critique we may add the words of Thomas B. Shaw, who says : — " Some of his most chai-ming lyrics were written in prison ; and the beautiful lines to Althea, composed when the author was closely confined in the Gate-house at West- minster, remind us of the caged bird, vehich learns its sweetest and most plaintive notes, when deprived of its woodland liberty." THOMAS RANDOLPH, Thomas Eandolph, bom 1605, died 1634. He was bom near Daventry ; was a scholar and poet. His pieces are worthy of better treatment than they have received. Through excess, he died at the age of twenty-nine. His chief plays were : " Tho Muses' Looking- From 1558 to 1G49.] BIOGEAPHICAL NOTICES. Glass," and "The Jealous Lovers." Camp- bell says : " His execution la vif^orons ; liis ideal characters are at once distinct and various, and compact with the expression ■which he purposes to give them." ■V^aLLIAM DEUMMOXD. William Drummond, bom 1585, died 1G49. Drummond, the first Scotch poet who wrote well in Enghsh, was born at Hawthornden (Southey), near Edinburgh. His father. Sir John Drummond, held a situation about the person of James VI. The poet, in his youth, studied law, but reUnquishing that profession, he retired to a life of ease and literature on his " delightful " patrimonial estate. His happiness was suddenly interrupted by the death of a lady to whom ho was betrothed ; ho spent several years in seeking by travel a refuge from his sorrow. He married, late in life, Elizabeth Logan, attracted to her, it is said, by her resemblance to his first love. He was warmly attached to Charles I. : grief for the king's death, it is alleged, shortened his life. Drummond's works consist of sonnets, madrigals, and religious and occasional poems; among the latter is the ludicrous Latin doggrol " Polemo-Middinia." His son- nets are estimated by Hazlitt as the finest in the language, and approaching nearest to the Italian model. Drummond's fancy is luxu- riant, but tinctured with frigid conceits. His versification is flowing and harmonious. Even Ben Jonson's arrogance condescended to " envy " the author of " The Forth Feasting." He is the writer of a forgotten history of the Jameses. grounds, a monarch who had been personally kind to him. The change was stigmatized as ungrateful ; and it was both sordid and un- grateful, if the account given by his enemies can be relied on, that it was owing to the king's refusal of the lanreateship, or of a pension — for the story is told in difTcrent ways. All that can be suggested in May's behalf is, that no complimentary dedications coidd pledge his piinciples on a great question of public justice, and that the motives of an action are seldom traced with scrupulous truth, where it is the bias of the narrator to degrade the action itself. Clarendon, the most respectable of his accusers, is exactly in this situation. He begins by praising his epic poetry as among the best in our language, and inconsistently concludes by pronouncing that May deserves to be forgotten. " The Parliament, from whatever motive ho embraced their cause, appointed him their secretary and historiographer. In this capa- city he wrote his Breviary, which Warburton pronounces ' a jnst composition according to the rules of history.' It breaks off, much to the loss of the lii-story of that time, ju.st at the period of the Self-denying Ordinance. Soon after this pubUcation he went to bed one night in apparent health, having drank freely, and was found dead in the morning. His death was ascribed to his nightcap being tied too tightly under his chin. Andrew Marvel imputes it to the cheerful bottle. Taken together, they were no bad receipt for suffocation. The vampire revenge of his enemies in digging him up from his grave, is an event too notorious in the history of the Eestoration. They gave him honourable com- pany in this sacrilege, namely, that of Blake. " He has ventured in narrative poetry on a similar difficulty to that Shakspere encoun- tered in the historical drama, but it is un- necessary to show with how much less success. Even in that department, he has scarcely equalled Daniel or Drayton." THOMAS MAT. Thomas May, bom 1595, died 1050. Camp- bell, in his "Specimens," writes: "Thomas May, whom Dr. Johnson has pronounced the best Latin poet of England, was the son of Sir Thomas May, of Mayfield, in Sussex. During the earlier part of his public life he was encouraged at the court of Charles I., in- scribed several poems to his majesty, as well as wrote them at his injunction, and received from Charles the appellation of ' his poet.' During this connection with royalty, he wrote his five dramas, translated the Georgics and Pharsnlia, continued the latter in English as well as Latin, and, by his imitation of Lucan, acquired the reputation of a modern classic in foreign countries. It were much to be wished, that on silling with the Parliament in the civil wars, he had left a valedictory testimony of regret for the necessity of opposing, on public SIE EICHAED FANSHAWE. Sir Eiehard Fanshawe, bom 1G07, died 1G66. Ho was the brother of Lord Fan- shawe, and secretary to Prince Eupei-t : appointed ambassador to the court of Spain by Charles II., and died at Madrid in 16G6. He translated Camocus' " Lusiad," and the " Pastor Fido " of Guarini. He wrote many smaller poems. His song, "The Saints En- couragement," 1G43, is full of clever satire, and all liis verse is forcible, with hero and there a touch of the tme poet's beauty. — (Shaw's "Hist. Eng. Lit.," p. 187.) "Ho holds," says Gilfillan. " altogether a respect- able, if not a very high place, among our early translators and minor poets." EIOGEAPHICAL NOTICES. [Third Pept^t. SIR WILLIAM DAYEXAXT. Sir "William Davcnant, bom 1G05, dicil 1G6S. Bj far the best critique on the works of tlii3 poet, tog-ether with sketch of liis life, is by Campbell, who ^^^.•ites : "Davonant's personal history is siilhciently cnrioiis. without attaching importance to the insinuation of Wood, so gravely taken up by Mr. jMalone, that ho was the son of Shaksperc. He was the son of a vintner at Oxford, at whoso house the immortal poet is said to have frequently lodged. Havincr risen to notice by liis tragedy of ' Albovine,' ho wrote masques for the court of Charles I., and was made governor of the king and queen's company of actors in Drury Lane. In the civil wars, wo find the theatric manager quickly transmuted into a lieutenant-general of ordnance, knighted for his ser\-icGS at the siege of Gloucester, and afterwards negotiating between the king and Ins advisers at Paris. There he began his poem of ' Gondibert,' which he laid aside for a time for the scheme of carrying a colony from France to Virginia ; but his vessel was seized by one of the pai-liament ships, he was thrown into prison, and owed his life to friendly interference, it is said to that of Milton, whoso friendship he returned in kind. On being liberated, his ardent activity was shown in attempting to restore theatrical amusements in the very teeth of bigotry and Puritanism, and he actually succeeded so far as to open a theatre in the Charter-house Yard. At the Restoration, he renewed the patent of the Duke's Theatre, in l,incoIn's Inn, which he held till his death. " 'Gondibci-t' has divided the critics. It is undeniable, on the one hand, that he showed a high and independent conception of epic poetry, in -n-ishing to emancipate it from the slavery of ancient aiithority, and to establish its interest in the dignity of human nature, without incredible and stale machinery. His subject was v.-ell chosen from modern romantic story, and he strove to give it the close and compact symmetry of the drama. Ingenious and witty images, and majestic sentiments, are thickly scattered over the poem. I'ut Gondibert, who is so formally described, has certainly more of the cold and abstract air of an historical, than of a poetical portrait, and, ■unfortunately, the beauties of the poem are those of elegy and epigram, more than of heroic fiction. It wants the charm of free and forcible narration ; the life-pulse of interest is incessantly stopped by solemn pauses of re- flection, and the story works its way through an intricacy of superfluous fancies, some boau- tifid and others conceited ; but all, as they arc united, tending to divert the interest, like a multitude of weeds upon a stream, that en- tangle its com-se while they seem to adorn it." See "Athen. Oxon."; Knox's "Essays" ; Bishop Kurd's " Crit. Com. Notes and Dissert." iii. 138 — 144. ; Biog. and Sketches Ijrelixed to Hcadlcy's Collect., vol. i. JOHN HALL. John Hall, born 1627, died 1656. He was born at Durham, and educated at St. John's, Cambridge. In 164G ho published a volumo of Poems ; he practised at the bar, and died ia his twenty-ninth year. THOMAS NACBES. Thomas Nabbcs, born (unknown), died 1649. Ho wrote in the reign of Charles I. ; was secretary to some noble or prelate, near Worcester. The chief of his dramatic pieces were, for none are extant, " Microcosmiis " ; " Spring's Glory " ; " Bride " ; " Chartes I.," a tragedy ; " Swetman," a comedy. He wrote also a continuation of Knolles's " History of the Turks." He had also a share in the col- lection called "Fancy's Theatre," with Tat- ham, Richard Bromo, and others. — See Shaw's "Hist. English Hist."; Campbell's "Spec. Brit. Poets." JOHN CLEVELAND. John Cleveland, born 1613, died 1658. Ho was the son of a Leicestershire clergyman, and greatly distinguished himself, on the side of the king, during the civil war, both as soldier and poet. He was educated at Christ's College and St. John's College, Cambridge. In 1G47 he pubhshed a satire on the Scotch ; was imprisoned in 1655, released by Cromwell, but soon afterwards died. Some of his writings, though conceited, contain true poetry. Butler is said to have borrowed greatly from him in his " Hudibras." — (Shaw's " Hist. Eng. Lit.") Fuller, in his " Worthies of Leicestershire," AVi'itesof him as "a general artist, pure Latinist, exquisite orator, and, which was his master-piece, eminent poet." His epithets were pregnant vfith. metaphors, carrying in them a difficult plainness ; diificult at hearing, plain at the consideration thereof. His lofty fancy may seem to stride from the top of one mountain to the top of another, so making to itself a constant level champaign of continued elevations." JAMES SHIRLEY. James Shirley, bom 1596, died 166G. James Shirley was born in London. He was educated at Cambridge, where he took the degi-ee of A.M., and had a curacy for some time at or near St. Albans ; but embracing popery, became a schoolmaster (1623) in that town. Lcavmg this employment, he settled in London as a dramatic writer, and between the years 1625 From 1558 to 1649.] BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. and 166G published tliirty-nino plays. In tho civil wars ho followed his patron, tho Earl of Newcastle, to tho field ; but on tho decline of tho royal cause, returned to London, and, as tho theatres wero now shut, kept a school in Whitefriars, where ho educated many eminent cliaractcrs. At tho reopcninj,' of tho theatres ho must havo been too old to liavo renewed his dramatic labours ; and what benefit tho Eostoration brouf^ht him as a royalist, wo aro not informed. Both he and his wife died on the same day, immediately after tho prcat fire of London, by whicli they had been driven out of their house, and probably owed their deaths to their losses and terror on that occasion. ALEXANDER BROTHE. Alexander Bromo, born 1G20, died 16GG. Ho was an attorney in the Lord Mayor's Court and a poet. Ho contributed greatly to tho promotion of tho Restoration by tho severity and ridicule with which ho treated the Roundheads in tho day of their power. Ho had also a share in tho translation of Horace, with Fanshawe, Holiday, Cowley, and others, and published a single comedy, "The Cunning Lovers" which was acted in 1651, at tho private house in Drury. Camp- boll says : " There is a playful variety in his metre, that probably had a better effect in son? than in reading. His thoughts on love and the bottle have at least the merit of being decently jovial, though he arrays the trite arguments of convivial invitation in few original images." It seems that Bromc had intended to translate Lucretius. Izaak Walton commends him highly. KATHERINE PHILLIPS. Catherine Phillips, born 1G31, died 1GG4. Very little is known, remarks GilfiUan in his " Specimens with Memoirs of the Lessdcnown British Poets," of the life of this lady-poet. She was born in 1G31. Her maiden name was Fowler. She married James Phillips, Esq., of tho Priory of Cardigan. Her poems, pub- lished under tho name of " Orinda," were very popular in her lifetime, although it was said they were published without her consent. She translated two of tho tragedies of Cor- neillo, and left a volume of letters to Sir Charles Cottcrcll. These, however, did not appear till after her death. She died of small-pox — then a deadly disease — in IGGi. She seems to have been a favourite alike with tho wits and the divines of her ago. Jeremy Taylor addressed to her his " Measures and Oftices of Friendship ; " Dryden praised her ; and riatmau and Cowlo^', besides imitating her poems while sho was living, paid rhymed tributes to her memory when dead. Her verses arc never commonphico, and always sensible, if they hardly attain to tho measure and tho stature of lofty poetry. ALEXANDER SCOT. Alexander Scot flourished about tho year 15G2. He wrote several short satires and somo miscellaneous poems, tho prevailing amatory character of wluch caused him to be called tho Scottish Anacreon, though there are many points wanting to complete his resemblance to tho Teian bard. — Chambers's " Cyc. Eng. Lit.," vol. i. 151 ; Shaw's " Hist. Eng. Lit." SIR RICHARD MAITLAND. Sir Richard Maitland, born 149C, died 1586, is more celebrated as a collector of poems than as an original poet. There is however much good taste displayed in his own pro- ductions. ALEXANDER MONTGOMERY. Alexander Montgomery was the author of an allegorical poem called " The Cherry and the Sloe," published in 1597, which long continued a favourite, and the metre of which was adopted by Burns. — Shaw's " Hist. Eng. Lit." ALEXANDER HUME. The time and place of his birth are nn- kno\vn. He was a clergj-man, and published, in 1589, a volume of hymns or sacred songs ; he died in 1G09. KING JAMES TI. ICing James VI. published, in 1584, a voliimo of poetry, "Essays of a Prentice in tho Diviuo Ai-t of Poesio, \vith the rowlis and cautelis to be pursued and avoided." EARL OF ANCRU3I. Earl of Ancrum, born 1578, died 1654. Wrote some sonnets of considerable merit. EARL OF STIRLING. Earl of Stiriing, born 1580, died 1640, published, in 1G37, "Recreations with tho BIOGEAPHICAL NOTICES. [Third Period. — Mnses," of which says Campbell, " there is elegance of expression in a few of his shorter pieces." THO:\IAS IXGELAND. Scarcely anything is known of this author, excepting that he wrote "A Pretio and jNIeric New Entcrludc, entitled the Dis- obedient Child." NICHOLAS UDALL. Nicholas Udall wrote the earliest comedy in the English language, " Ealph Eoyster Doyster," which was acted in 1551. He for a long time executed the duties of Master of Eton College. JOHN HETWOOD. John Hcywood was a man of considerable attainment:^, but who seemed to have per- formed the duties of jester at the court of Henry VIII. JOHN STILL. John StiU, born 1543, died 1607. Ha was master of St. John's and Trinity Colleges, Cambridge, and became afterwards bishop of Bath and Wells. He wrote " Gammer Gur- ton's Needle," which seems to have been the second earliest regular comedy published in our language. The whole intrigue consists in the search instituted after this unfortunate little implement, which is at last discovered by Hodge himself, on suddenly sitting down in the garment which Gammer Gurton had been repairing. The play is included in Dodsley's collection. — See Campbell's " Specimens" ; Shaw's " Hist. Eng. Lit." JOHN LTLY. John Lyly was bom in Kent in 1554, and produced nine plays between the years 1579 and IGOO. They were mostly written for court entertainments, and performed by the scholars of St. Paul's. He was educated at Oxford, and many of his plays are on my- thological subjects, as " Sappho and Phaon," "Endymion," the "Maid's Metamorphosis," &c. His style is affected and unnatural, yet, like his own Niobe, in the " Metamorphosis," " oftentimes ho had sweet thoughts, some- times hard conceits ; betwixt both a kind of yielding." By his " Euphues," or the " Ana- tomy of "Wit," Lyly exorcised apowerfnl though injurious influence on the fashionable literature of his day, in prose composition as well as in discourse. His plays were not important enough to found a school. Hazlitt was a warm admirer of Lyly's "Endymion," but evidently, from the feelings and sentiments it awakened, rather than the poetry. " I know few things more perfect in characteristic painting," he remarks, " than the exclamation of the Phrygian shepherds, who, afraid of betraying the secret of Midas' s ears, fancy that 'the very reeds bow down, as though they listened to their talk ; ' nor more affect- iug in sentiment, than the apostrophe ad- dressed by his friend Enmcnides to Endymion, on waking from his long sleep. ' Behold the twig to which thou laidest down thy head is now become a tree.' " There are finer things in the Metamorphosis, as where the prince laments Eurymene lost in the woods — " Adorned with the presence of my love. The woods I fear such secret power shall prove. As they'll shut up each path, hide every way, Because they still would have her go astray. And in that place would always have her seen. Only because they would be ever green, And keep the winged choristers still there. To banish winter clean out of the year." Or the song of the fairies — " By the moon we sport and play. With the night begins our day : As we dance the dew doth fall ; Trip it, little urchins all, Lightly as the Uttle bee. Two by two, and three by three. And about go we, and about go we." The genius of Lyly was essentially lyrical. The songs in his plays seem to flow freely from nature. GEOEGE PEELE. George Peele, like Lyly, had received a liberal education at Oxford. He was one of Shakspere's fellow-actors and fellow-share- holders in the Blackfriars Theatre. He was also employed by the city of London in com- posing and preparing those spectacles and shows which formed so great a portion of ancient civic festivity. His earliest work, " The Arraignment of Paris," was printed anonymously in 1584. His most celebrated dramatic works were the " David and Beth- sabe," and "Absalom," in which there is great richness and beauty of language and occa- sional indications of a high order of pathetic and elevated emotion ; but his versification, though sweet, has little variety ; and the luxurious and sensuous descriptions in which From 1588 to lG49.j BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES. Pcele most delij^hted aro so numerous, that they beooino rather tirosomo in tho end. It HhouM bo remarked that this poet was tho first to givo an example of tho peculiar kind of historical play in which Shakspcro was afterwanln so cousummato a master. His "Edward I." ia, thouj^h monotonous, decla- matory, and stiff, in some seni-o tho fore- runner of such works as " Richard II., " "Richard in.," or "Henry V." — Shaw's "Hist. Engr. Lit. " p. 130. Seo Chambers's " Cyc. En-. Lit.," vol. i. ; Campbell's " Spec. Brit. Poets." THOJIAS NASH AND ROBERT GREENE. " Both wero Cambridge men, both sharp, and I fear," says Shaw, iu his valuable " History of EngUsh Literature," " mercenary satirists, and both alike in tho profligacy of their lives and tho misery of their deaths, though they may have eked out their income by occasionally \sTiting for the stage, were in reality rather pasquiuaders and pamphleteers than dramatists — condotticri of tho press, shamelessly advertising the services of their ready and biting pen to any person or any cause that would pay them. They were both unquestionably men of rare powers, Nash pro- bably tho better man and the abler ^vriter of the two. Nash is famous for the bitter con- troversy with tho learned Gabriel Harvey, whom he has caricatured and attacked in numerous pamphlets, in a manner equally humorous and severe. He was concerned with other dramatists in the production of a piece entitled • Summer's Last Will and Testament,' and in a satirical comedy, ' Tho Isle of Dogs,' which drew down upon him tho anger of the Government, for we know that he was im- prisoned for some time in consequence. "Greene was, like Nash, tho author of a multitude of tracts and pamphlets on tho most misccllaueous subjects. Sometimes they were tales, often translated or expanded from the Italian novelists ; sometimes amusing exposiures of the various arts of coney-catching, which means cheating and swintUing, practised at that time in Lotion, and in wliich, it is feared, Greene was personally not unversed; some- times moral confessions, like Nash's ' Pierce Pennile.sse, his Supplication to the Devil,' or Greene's ' Groat worth of Wit,' purporting to be a warning to others against the conse- quences of unbridled passion. Some of these confessions are exceedingly pathetic, and would be more so conld tho reader divest himself of a lurking suspicion that tho whole is often a mere trick to catch a penny. Tho popularitj' of those tracts, wo know, was very great. Tho only dramatic work wo need specify of Greene's was ' Gcorge-a-Green,' tho legend of an old English popular hero, rocoimted with much vivacity ana humour." — See Aliibonc's " Crit. Diet. Eng. Lit." ; Chambers's " Cyc. Eug. Lit." ; Campl)cll's " Specimens " ; Wood's " Fasti Oxon." ; Haslewood's " Ceusura Lite- raria," ii. 288-300 ; Beloe'a " Anec. of Lib. and Sf3arce Books" ; " Drake's Shalispore and his Times"; J. Payne Collier's "Hist, of Eng. Dram. Poets," iii. 153-154; Professor Tiock's Preface to his " Shakspcrc's Vorschulo " ; Hallam's "Lit. Hi.st. of Europe," ii. 173; "Briti.sh Eibhographer" ; Dibdin's "Lib. Comp." ; Lowndes's "Bibl. Man."; Dunlop's " Hist, of Fiction." THOiLVS LODGE. Thomas Lodge, bom 1556, died 1G25 (r), a physician and dramatic pcet ; he was bora in Lincolnshire, educated at Trinit}' Col- lege, Oxford, and first appeared as an author in 1580. Ten of Lodge's poems are contained in tho English " Helicon," published in IGOO. To his poem entitled " Rosalj-nde : Eupheus Golden Lcgacie," Shakspere was indebted for the plot and incidents of his drama " As You Like It." He is described by Colhcr as second to Kj'd in vigour and boldness of conception : but as a drawer of character, so essential a part of dramatic poetry, he unquestionably has tho advantage. His principal work is a tragedy entitled " The Hounds of Civil y\'ar, lively set forth in the two Tragedies of Marius and Sylla." He also composed, in conjunction with Greene, "A Looking-Glass for London and England," the object of which is a defence of the stage against tlie Puritanical party. — See Shaw's '• Hist. Eng. Lit." THOMAS DEKKER. Thomas Dekker -n-as a very industrious author ; he was connected with Jonson in writing for the Lord Admiral's theatre, con- ducted by Henslowe ; but Ben and ho became bitter enemies, and the former, in liis " Poetaster," performed in ICOl, has satirized Dekker under tho character of Crispinus, representing himself as Horace. Dekker repUed by another drama, " Satiromastix ; or, the Untrussing the Humorous Poet." Tho poetic diction of Dekker is choice and elegant, bxit ho often wanders into absurdity. He is supposed to have died about the year lUo8. His hfo seems to have been spent in irregu- larity and x^overty. According to Oldys, he was three years in the King's Bench. In ono of his own beautiful lines he says : " We ne'er are angels till our passions die. ' But tho old dramatists lived in a world of passion and revelry, want and despair. — BIOGEAPHICAL NOTICES. [Third Period. (Chambers's " Cyclo. English Lit." vol. ii. 21.) He pubUshcd the " Giill's Horn Book," of which a now edition ■was published in 1812, Bristol, 4to, edited by Dr. Nott. Drake says of this work, "His ' Gul's Hoi-ne Booke, or Eashions to please all Sorts of Gxils,' first printed in 1G09, exhibits a very curious, mi- nute, and interesting: picture of the manners and habits of the middle class of society." — See Lowndes's " Bibl. Man." ; Warton's " Hist. En?. Poetry" ; " Bibl. Anjrlo-Poct." ; Collier's " Hist, of Ens. Dramatic Poets." HEXEY CHETTLE. Ho was a dramatic wi-iter of the age cf Elizabeth. He -wrote the tragedy of '■ Hoffman, or a Revenge for a Father," 1631 ; and was concerned, more or less, according to " Henslowe's Diary," in the production of thirtj'-eight plays, only four of which have been printed, and have come down to iis. — See Allibone's " Crit. Diet. Eng. Lit."; Collier's "Hist, of Entrlish Dramatic Poetry " ; Shaw's " Hist. Eng. Lit." WILLIA5I HAUGHTON. Yv'illiam Haughton was the author of a number of dramatic pieces, of which the comedy of "Englishmen for my Money" is one of the best known. He \vrote the comedy of " Patient Grissill," in which he was assisted by Chettle and Dckker. — Sec "Biog. Dramat. " ; Allibone's " Crit. Diet. Eng. Lit." DABEIDGECOURT BELCHIEE. Dabridgecourt Belchlcr was admitted at Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, m 1508 ; removed to Christchurch, Oxford, where he took his B.A. in IGOO. He translated into English "Hans Beerport, his Eisiblo Comedy of See mo and See me Not," 1618. Wood ascribes some other pieces to him. — See Allibone's "Crit. Diet. Eng, Lit."; Camp- bell's " Specimens." JOHN WEBSTER. John Webster, the " noble-minded," as Hazlitt designates him, lived and died about the same time as Dekker, with whom he \sTote in the conjunct authorship then so common. His original dramas are the " Duchess of Malfy/' " Guise, or the Massacre of France," the " Devil's Law Case," " Appius and Virginia," and the " White Devil, or Vittoria Coronibona " Webster, it has been said, was clerk of St Andrew's church, Holborn; but Mr. Dyce, his editor and bio- gTapher, searched the registers of the parish for his name without success. The " White Devil" and the "Duchess of Malfy" have divided the opinions of critics as to their relative merits. They are both powerful dramas, though filled with " supernumerary horrors." The former was not successful on the stage, and the author published it with a dedication, in which he states, that " most of the people that come to the play-house re- semble those ignorant asses who, visiting stationers' shops, their use is not to inquire for good books, but new books." Ho was accused, like Jonson, of being a slow writer, but ho consoles himself with the example of Euripides, and confesses that he did not write with a goose quill winged with two feathers. In this shghted play there arc some exquisite touches of pathos and natxu'al feeling. The grief of a group of mourners over a dead body is thus described : — " I found them winding of Marcello's corse, And there in such a solemn melody, 'Twcen doleful songs, tears, and sad elegies, Such as old gi-andames watching by the dead Were wont to outwear the night with ; that, believe me, I had no eyes to guide me forth the room, They were so o'ercharged with water." The funeral dirge for MarceUo, sung by his mother, possesses, says Charles Lamb, " that intenseness of feeling which seems to resolve itself into the elements which it contem- plates " : — " Call for the robin redbreast and the wren, Since o'er shady groves they hover. And with loaves and flowers do covfer The friendless bodies of unbm'ied men. Call unto his funeral dole. The ant, the field-mouse, and the mole, To raise him hillocks that shall keep him warm. And, when gay tombs are robb'd, sustain no harm ; But keep the wolf far thence, that's foe to men. For with his nails he'll dig them up again." The following couplet has been admired : — "Glories, like glow-worms, afar off shine bright ; But look'd to near, have neither heat nor light." The "Duchess of Malfy" abounds more in the terrible graces. It turns on the mortal ofi'ence which the lady gives to her two proud brothers, Ferdinand, Duke of Calabria, and a cardinal, by indulging in a generous though infatuated passion for Antonio, her steward. From 1558 to 1649.] BIOGEAPHICAL NOTICES. —(Clmmhers, vol.i. pp. 211, 212.) Shaw says, '• But perhaps tlio most powerful and original ponius among the Shaksporian drainati.sts of the fiecoud order is John "Webster. His terrible and funereal Muse on ' Death ; ' his wild imagination revelled in images and sentiments which breathe, as it were, the odour of the charnel : his plays are fidl of pictures recalling >vith fantastic variety all associations of the weakness and futility of human hopes and interests, and dark question- ings of our future destinies. His literary physiognomy has something of that dark, bitter, and woeful expression which makes us thrill in the portraits of Dante. In selecting such revolting themes as abounded in the black annals of mediaeval Italy, Webster followed the peculiar bent of his great and morbid genius ; in the treatment of these subjects, wo find a strange mixture of the horrible with the pathetic. In his languao-o there is an extraordinary' union of complexity and simplicity -. ho loves to draw his illustra- tions not onlj" from skulls and graves and epitaphs, ' but also from the most attractive and picturesque objects in nature ; ' and his occasional intermingling of the deepest and most innocent emotion of the most exquisite touches of natural beauty produces the effect of the daisy springing up amid the festerins; mould of the graveyard." more disgrace upon the ago than all its genius could redeem ; namely, the fate of ^lother Sawyer, the "Witch of Edmonton, an aged woman, who had been recently the victim of legal and superstitious murder — ' Nil adco fccdum quod non cxacla vctustas Ediderit.' The time of his death is unknown." — (Campbell's Specimens, t[>. 166.) See Shaw's " Hist. Eng. Lit. " ; Professor Spalding's "Hist. Eng. Lit."; "Weber's ed. of Ford's Works ; Lord Jcflfrey's article " Edin. Rev.," X. 275, 304 ; John Gifford, " Quart. Rev.," vi. 4G2-487 ; Lamb's " Specimens of Eng. Dram. Poets." THOMAS MIDDLETOX Thomas ISIiddleton is admired for a wild and fantastic fancy, whic-iii'd From 1558 to 1640.] ALLEGOEICAL PEESONAGES DESCELBED. [Thomas Sackville. Hi3 vital thread, and ended w-itli their knifo The lleoting course of fast declining life : There heard wo him with broke and hollow Ijlaint Rue with himself his end approaching fast, And all for nought his wrctche