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That is the pride of Cynthia's train ;
Then stay thy tongue ;
Thy mermaid song
Where each peasant mates with him : Shall I haunt the thronged valleys, Whilst there's noble hills to climb ?
No, no, though clowns
Are scar'd with frowns,
And those I'll prove,
So will thy love
Where each lustful lad may woo ;
She, she, it is
Affords that bliss,
But such as you,
Fond fools, adieu, You seek to captive me in vain. Leave me, then, thou Syren, leave me;
Seek no more to work my harms ; Crafty wiles cannot deceive me, Who am proof against your charms :
You labour may
To lead astray The heart, that constant shall remain ;
And I the while
Will sit and smile
Madrigal. Amaryllis I did woo, And I courted Phillis too; Daphne for her love I chose, Chloris, for that damask rose In her cheek, I held so dear, Yea, a thousand lik'd well near ; And, in love with all together, Feared the enjoying either : 'Cause to be of one possess'd, Barr'd the hope of all the rest.
Rank misers now do sparing shun;
Their hall of music soundeth ; And dogs thence with whole shoulders run,
So all things there aboundeth. The country folks, themselves advance, With crowdy-muttons out of France; And Jack shall pipe and Gill shall dance,
And all the town be merry.
And all his best apparel;
With dropping of the barrel.
And all the day be merry.
With capons make their errants ; And if they hap to fail of these,
They plague them with their warrants : But now they feed them with good cheer, And what they want they take in beer, For Christmas comes but once a year,
And then they shall be merry.
The poor, that else were undone ;
On lust and pride at London,
And therefore let's be merry. The client now his suit forbears,
The prisoner's heart is eased;
And for the time is pleased.
And therefore let's be merry.
Each other forth to rambling;
For nuts and apples scrambling.
And there they will be merry.
About the streets are singing;
The wild mare in is bringing.
And here they will be merry.
And mate with every body;
And wise men play the noddy.
Because they will be merry.
Should we, I pray, be duller ?
To make our inirth the fuller : And, while we thus inspired sing, Let all the streets with echoes ring; Woods and hills, and everything, Bear witness we are merry.
Let every man be jolly ;
And every post with holly.
And let us all be merry.
And Christmas blocks are burning; Their ovens they with baked meat choke,
And all their spits are turning.
And evermore be merry.
And no man minds his labour;
A bagpipe and a tabor ; Young men and maids, and girls and boys, Give life to one another's joys; And you anon shall by their noise
Perceive that they are merry.
name of Philarete in a pastoral poem; and Milton is
supposed to have copied his plan in Lycidas. There WILLIAM BROWNE (1590-1645) was a pastoral is also a faint similarity in some of the sentiments and descriptive poet, who, like Phineas and Giles and images. Browne has a very fine illustration of a Fletcher, adopted Spenser for his model. He was a native of Tavistock, in Devonshire, and the beautiful scenery of his native county seems to have inspired
Look, as a sweet rose fairly budding forth his early strains. His descriptions are vivid and
Betrays her beauties to th' enamour'd morn,
Until some keen blast from the envious north true to nature. Browne was tutor to the Earl of Carnarvon, and on the death of the latter at the
Kills the sweet bud that was but newly born; battle of Newbury in 1643, he received the patron
Or else her rarest smells, delighting,
Make herself betray age and lived in the family of the Earl of Pembroke. In this situation he realised a competency, and,
Some white and curious hand, inviting according to Wood, purchased an estate. He died
To pluck her thence away. at Ottery-St-Mary (the birth-place of Coleridge) in 1645. Browne's works consist of Britannia's Pasto
[4 Descriptive Sketch.) rals, the first part of which was published in 1613, the second part in 1616. He wrote, also, a pastoral o what a rapture have I gotten now! poem of inferior merit, entitled, The Shepherd's Pipe. That age of gold, this of the lovely brow, In 1620, a masque by Browne was produced at Have drawn me from my song! I'onward run court, called The Inner Temple Masque; but it was (Clean from the end to which I first begun), not printed till a hundred and twenty years after But ye, the heavenly creatures of the West, the author's death, transcribed from a manuscript in whom the virtues and the graces rest, in the Bodleian Library. As all the poems of Pardon ! that I have run astray so long, Browne were produced before he was thirty years of And grow so tedious in so rude a song. age, and the best when he was little more than If you yourselves should come to add one grace twenty, we need not be surprised at their containing Unto a pleasant grove or such like place, marks of juvenility, and frequent traces of resem: Where, here, the curious cutting of a hedge, blance to previous poets, especially Spenser, whom There in a pond, the trimming of the sedge ; he warmly admired. His pastorals obtained the Here the fine setting of well-shaded trees, approbation of Selden, Drayton, Wither, and Ben The walks there mounting up by small degrees, Jonson. Britannia's Pastorals are written in the The gravel and the green so equal lie, heroic couplet, and contain much beautiful descrip- It, with the rest, draws on your lingʻring eye: tive poetry. Browne had great facility of expression, Here the sweet smells that do perfume the air, and an intimate acquaintance with the phenomena Arising from the infinite repair of inanimate nature, and the characteristic features Of odoriferous buds, and herbs of price, of the English landscape. Why he has failed in (As if it were another paradise), maintaining his ground among his contemporaries, so please the smelling sense, that you are fain must be attributed to the want of vigour and con- Where last you walk'd to turn and walk again. densation in his works, and the almost total absence There the small birds with their harmonious notes of human interest. His shepherds and shepherdesses Sing to a spring that smileth as she floats : have nearly as little character as the silly sheep' For in her face a many dimples show, they tend ; whilst pure description, that takes the And often skips as it did dancing go: place of sense,' can never permanently interest any Here further down an over-arched alley large number of readers. So completely had some That from a hill goes winding in a valley, of the poems of Browne vanished from the public You spy at end thereof a standing lake, view and recollection, that, had it not been for a Where some ingenious artist strives to make single copy of them possessed by the Rev. Thomas The water (brought in turning pipes of lead Warton, and which that poetical student and anti- Through birds of earth most lively fashioned) quary lent to be transcribed, it is supposed there To counterfeit and mock the sylvans all would have remained little of those works which In singing well their own set madrigal. their author fondly hoped would
This with no small delight retains your ear,
And makes you think none blest but who live thera. Keep his name enroll'd past his that shines
Then in another place the fruits that be In gilded marble, or in brazen leaves.
In gallant clusters decking each good tree, Warton cites the following lines of Browne, as con
Invite your hand to crop them from the stem, taining an assemblage of the same images as the And liking one, taste every sort of them : morning picture in the L'Allegro of Milton :
Then to the arbours walk, then to the bowers,
Thence to the walks again, thence to the flowers,
Then to the birds, and to the clear spring thence,
My friend with his sweet touch to charm mine ear:
When he hath play'd (as well he can) some strain, I rose from rest, not infelicity.
That likes me, straight I ask the same again,
And he, as gladly granting, strikes it o'er Browne celebrated the death of a friend under the I With some sweet relish was forgot before :
I would have been content if he would play,
The writings of FRANCIS QUARLES (1592-1644) Unwillingly have ask'd some other song:
are more like those of a divine, or contemplative So, in this diff'ring key, though I could well
recluse, than of a busy man of the world, who held A many hours, but as few minutes tell,
various public situations, and died at the age of Yet, lest mine own delight might injure you,
fifty-two. Quarles was a native of Essex, educated (Though loath so soon) I take my song anew.
at Cambridge, and afterwards a student of Lincoln's Inn. He was successively cup-bearer to Elizabeth,
Queen of Bohemia, secretary to Archbishop Usher, (Night.]
and chronologer to the city of London. He espoused
the cause of Charles I., and was so harassed by the The sable mantle of the silent night
opposite party, who injured his property, and plun. Shut from the world the ever-joysome light.
dered hini of his books and rare manuscripts, that Care fled away, and softest slumbers please
his death was attributed to the affliction and ill To leave the court for lowly cottages. Wild beasts forsook their dens on woody hills,
health caused by these disasters. Notwithstanding
his loyalty, the works of Quarles have a tinge of And sleightful otters left the purling rills ; Rooks to their nests in high woods now were flung,
Puritanism and ascetic piety that might have molAnd with their sprear wings shield their naked young. sist of various pieces —Job Militant, Sian's Elegies,
lified the rage of his persecutors. His poems conWhen thieves from thickets to the cross-ways stir, And terror frights the lonely passenger;
The History of Queen Esther, Argalus and Parthenia, When nought was heard but now and then the howl
The Morning Muse, The Feast of Worms, and The
Divine Emblems. The latter were published in 1645, Of some vile cur, or whooping of the owl.
and were so popular, that Phillips, Milton's nephew, styles Quarles the darling of our plebeian judg
ments. The eulogium still holds good to some ex(Pastoral Employments.]
tent, for the Divine Emblems, with their quaint and
grotesque illustrations, are still found in the cottages But since her stay was long: for fear the sun Should find them idle, some of them begun
of our peasants. After the Restoration, when every
thing sacred and serious was either neglected or To leap and wrestle, others threw the bar,
made the subject of ribald jests, Quarles seems to Some from the company removed are
have been entirely lost to the public. Even Pope, To meditate the songs they meant to play, Or make a new round for next holiday;
who, had he read him, must have relished his lively
fancy and poetical expression, notices only his Some, tales of love their love-sick fellows told;
bathos and absurdity. The better and more tolerant Others were seeking stakes to pitch their fold. This, all alone, was mending of his pipe;
taste of modern times has admitted the divine emThat, for his lass, sought fruits, most sweet, most ripe. if he does not occupy a conspicuous place, he is at
blemist into the laurelled fraternity of poets,' where, Here (from the rest), a lovely shepherd's boy
least sure of his due measure of homage and atten. Sits piping on a hill, as if his joy Would still endure, or else that age's frost
tion. Emblems, or the union of the graphic and Should never make him think what he had lost,
poetic arts, to inculcate lessons of morality and re. Yonder a shepherdess knits by the springs,
ligion, had been tried with success by Peacham and Her hands still keeping time to what she sings ;
Wither. Quarles, however, made Herman Hugo, a Or seerning, by her song, those fairest hands
Jesuit, his model, and from the ‘Pia Desideria' of this Were comforted in working. Near the sands
author, copied a great part of his prints and mottoes. Of some sweet river, sits a musing lad,
His style is that of his age-studded with conceits, That moans the loss of what he sometime had,
often extravagant in conception, and presenting the His love by death bereft : when fast by him
most outré and ridiculous combinations. There is An aged swain takes place, as near the brim
strength, however, amidst his contortions, and true Of 's grave as of the river.
wit mixed up with the false. His epigrammatic point, uniting wit and devotion, has been considered
the precursor of Young's Night Thoughts. [The Syren's Song.)
Stanzas. [From the 'Inner Temple Masqua.']
As when a lady, walking Flora's bower,
Picks here a pink, and there a gilly-flower,
Now plucks a violet from her purple bed,
And then a primrose, the year's maidenhead, A prey to passengers ;
There nips the brier, here the lover's pansy, Perfumes far sweeter than the best
Shifting her dainty pleasures with her fancy, Which make the phonix urn and nest;
This on her arms, and that she lists to wear Fear not your ships,
Upon the borders of her curious hair;
At length a rose-bud (passing all the rest)
She plucks, and bosoms in her lily breast.
The Shortness of Life.
And what's a life ka weary pilgrimage,
Whose glory in one day doth fill the stage
With childhood, manhood, and decrepit age.
And what's a life kthe flourishing array
of the proud summer meadow, which to-day To tell each point he nameth with a kiss. Wears her green plush, and is to-morrow hay.
Read on this dial, how the shades devour
What mean dull souls, in this high measure, My short-lived winter's day! hour eats up hour;
To haberdash Alas! the total's but from eight to four.
In earth's base wares, whose greatest treasure Behold these lilies, which thy hands have made,
Is dross and trash? Fair copies of my life, and open laid
The height of whose enchanting pleasure To view, how oon they droop, how soon they fade!
Is but a flash!
Are these the goods that thou supply’st Shade not that dial, night will blind too soon ; Us mortals with ? Are these the high'st! My non-aged day already points to noon;
Can these bring cordial peace ? false world, thou ly'st. How simple is my suit !--how small my boon! Nor do I beg this slender inch to wile
Delight in God Only.
She is my Maker's creature ; therefore good :
She is my mother, for she gave me birth;
She is my tender nurse—she gives me food ; Can he be fair, that withers at a blast ?
But what's a creature, Lord, compared with thee! Or he be strong, that airy breath can cast!
Or what's my mother, or my nurse to ine !
I love the air : her dainty sweets refresh
And with their polyphonian notes delight me: Blasts his fair flower, and makes him earth at last;
But what's the air or all the sweets that she So strong is man, that with a gasping breath
Can bless my soul withal, compared to thee? He totters, and bequeaths his strength to death;
I love the sea : she is my fellow-creature, So wise is man, that if with death he strive,
My careful purveyor ; she provides me store : His wisdom cannot teach him how to live ;
She walls me round; she makes my diet greater; So rich is man, that (all his debts being paid)
She wafts my treasure from a foreign shore : His wealth's the winding-sheet wherein he's laid ;
But, Lord of oceans, when compared with thee, So young is man, that, broke with care and sorrow,
What is the ocean, or her wealth to me !
Mine eye, by contemplation’s great attorney,
Transcends the crystal pavement of the sky :
But what is heaven, great God, compared to thee!
Without thy presence heaven 's no heaven to me. False world, thou ly’st : thou canst not lend The least delight:
Without thy presence earth gives no refection ;
Without thy presence sea atfords no treasure;
Without thy presence air 's a rank infection ;
Without thy presence heaven itself no pleasure : To please at night:
If not possess’d, if not enjoy'd in thee, Poor are the wants that thou supply’st,
What's earth, or sea, or air, or heaven to me! And yet thou vaunt'st, and yet thou vy’st With heaven; fond earth, thou boasts ; false world, The highest honours that the world can boast, thou ly’st.
Are subjects far too low for my desire ;
The brightest beams of glory are (at most)
But dying sparkles of thy living fire :
The loudest flames that earth can kindle, bo
But nightly glow-worms, if compared to thee.
Without thy presence wealth is bags of cares ;
Wisdom but folly ; joy disquiet-sadness :
Pleasures but pain, and mirth but pleasing madness ; Alas! fond world, thou boasts ; false world, thou ly'st.
Without thee, Lord, things be not what they be,
Nor have they being, when compared with thee. What well-advised ear regards What earth can say?
In having all things, and not thee, what have I ! Thy words are gold, but thy rewards
Not having thee, what have my labours got !
Let me enjoy but thee, what further crave I !
And having thee alone, what have I not?
I wish nor sea nor land ; nor would I be
Possess'd of heaven, heaven unpossess'd of thee.
Decay of Life.
The day grows old, the low-pitch'd lamp hath mado A paradise, that has no stint,
No less than treble shade,
And the descending damp doth now prepare
To uncurl bright Titan's hair ;
Whose western wardrobe now begins to unfold
Her purples, fringed with gold, With man; vain man ! that thou rely'st
To clothe his evening glory, when the alarins On earth; vain man, thou dot'st; vain earth, thou ly’st. Of rest shall call to rest in restless Thetis' amis.
Nature now calls to supper, to refresh
Lord Herbert of Cherbury. George was educated The spirits of all Aesh;
at Cambridge, and in the year 1619 was chosen The toiling ploughman drives his thirsty teams, orator for the university. Herbert was the intimate To taste the slipp’ry streams :
friend of Sir Henry Wotton and Dr Donne; and The droiling swineherd knocks away, and feasts Lord Bacon is said to have entertained such a high His hungry whining guests :
regard for his learning and judgment, that he sub-
To cobweb every green ;
The fast-declining year :
And wain their winter fruits ;
To the next door to night;
Sad as her neighb'ring urn :
Lights but to further pains,
Upon the furrow'd brow;
Have blanch'd the falling hair :
Disturbs his weary night :
mitted his works to him before publication. The Those hasty wings that hurried them away
poet was also in favour with King James, who gave
him a sinecure ofhce worth £120 per annum, which Will give these days no day : The constant wheels of nature scorn to tire
Queen Elizabeth had formerly given to Sir Philip Until her works expire :
Sidney. With this,' says "Izaak Walton, and That blast that nipp'd thy youth will ruin thee;
his annuity, and the advantages of his college, and That hand that shook the branch will quickly strike of his oratorship, he enjoyed his genteel humour for the tree.
clothes and court-like company, and seldom looked towards Cambridge unless the king were there, but
then he never failed.' The death of the king and To Chastity.
of two powerful friends, the Duke of Richmond and
Marquis of Hamilton, destroyed Herbert's court Oh, Chastity !—the flower of the soul,
hopes, and he entered into sacred orders. He was How is thy perfect faimess turn'd to foul !
first prebend of Layton Ecclesia (the church of How are thy blossoms blasted all to dust,
which he rebuilt), and afterwards was made rector By sudden lightning of untamed lust!
of Bemerton, in Wiltshire, where he passed the reHow hast thou thus defild thy ev'ry feet,
mainder of his life.* After describing the poet's Thy sweetness that was once, how far from sweet !
marriage on the third day after his first interview Where are thy maiden smiles, thy blushing cheek- with the lady, old Izaak Walton relates, with chaThy lamb-like countenance, so fair, so meek? racteristic simplicity and minuteness, a matrimonial Where is that spotless flower, that while-ere
scene preparatory to their removal to Bemerton :Within thy lily bosom thou did'st wear?
The third day after he was made rector of BemerHas wanton Cupid snatched it? hath his dart
ton, and had changed his sword and silk clothes into Sent courtly tokens to thy simple heart?
a canonical habit (he had probably never done duty Where dost thou bide? the country half disclaims thee ; regularly at Layton Ecclesia), he returned so habited The city wonders when a body names thee :
with his friend Mr Woodnot to Bainton ; and imOr have the rural woods engrost thee there,
mediately after he had seen and saluted his wife, he And thus forestall our empty markets here? said to her, “You are now a minister's wife, and Sure thou art not; or kept where no man shows thee ; must now so far forget your father's house as not to Or chang'd so much scarce man or woman knows thee. claim a precedence of any of your parishioners ; for
you are to know that a priest's wife can challenge GEORGE HERBERT.
no precedence or place but that which she purchases
by her obliging humility ; and I am sure places so GEORGE HERBERT (1593-1632) was of noble birth, purchased do best become them. And let me tell though chiefly known as a pious country clergy- you, I am so good a herald as to assure you that this man—' holy George Herbert,' who
is truth." And she was so meek a wife, as to assure
him it was no vexing news to her, and that he The lowliest duties on himself did lay. should see her observe it with a cheerful willingness.' His father was descended from the earls of Pembroke,
Herbert discharged his clerical duties with saintand lived in Montgomery Castle, Wales, where the * The rectory of Bemerton is now held by another poot, the poet was born. His elder brother was the celebrated Rev. W. Lisle Bowles.