HENRY HOWARD, EARL OF SURREY.

The gravel ground, with sleeves tied on the helm
Of foaming horse, with swords and friendly hearts;
With cheer, as though one should another whelm,
Where we have fought, and chased oft with darts;
With silver drops the mead 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 resound,
Of pleasant plaint and of our ladies' praise,
Recording oft what grace each one had found,

What hope of speed, what dread of long delays:
The wild forest, the clothed holts with green,
With reins availed and swift ybreathed horse;
With cry of hounds and merry blasts between,
Where we did chase the fearful hart of force.
The wide vales, eke, that harboured us each night,
Wherewith, alas, reviveth in my breast,
The sweet accord such sleeps as yet delight,
The pleasant dreams, the quiet bed of rest:
The secret thoughts imparted with such trust,
The wanton talk, the divers change of play,
The friendship sworn, each promise kept so just;
Wherewith we passed the winter night away.
And with this thought, the blood forsakes the face,
The tears berain my cheeks of deadly hue,
The which, as soon as sobbing sighs, alas,
Upsupped have, thus I my plaint renew:
O place of bliss! renewer of my woes,

Give me accounts, where is my noble fere;
Whom in thy walls thou dost each night enclose;
To other leef, but unto me most dear:

Echo, alas! that doth my sorrow rue,

Returns thereto a hollow sound of plaint.
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.

31

Anne Askewe.

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Born 1520.

Burnt 1546.

ONE of the victims of the persecuting Henry VIII., she was burnt to death at Smithfield in 1546. The following was made and sung by her while a prisoner in Newgate.

LIKE as the armed Knighte,
Appointed to the fielde,
With this world wil I fight,
And faith shal be my shilde.
Faith is that weapon stronge,
Which wil not faile at nede;
My foes therefore amonge,
Therewith wil I procede.
As it is had in strengthe,
And forces of Christes waye,
It wil prevaile at lengthe,
Though all the Devils saye naye.

Faithe of the fathers olde
Obtained right witness,

Which makes me verye bolde
To fear no worldes distress.

I now rejoice in harte,
And hope bides me do so;
For Christ wil take my part,
And ease me of my wo.

Thou sayst, Lord, whoso knocke,
To them wilt Thou attende;
Undo, therefore, the locke,
And thy stronge power sende.

More enemies now I have
Than heeres upon my head;
Let them not me deprave,
But fight Thou in my steade.
On Thee my care I cast,
For all their cruell spight;
I set not by their hast,
For Thou art my delight.
I am not she that list
My anker to let fall

For every drislinge mist;
My shippe's substancial.
Not oft I use to wright
In prose, nor yet in ryme;
Yet wil I shewe one sight,
That I sawe in my time.

I sawe a royall throne,

Where Justice shulde have sitte;
But in her steade was One
Of moody cruell witte.

Absorpt was rightwisness,
As by the raginge floude;
Sathan, in his excess

Sucte up the guiltlesse bloude.
Then thought I,-Jesus, Lorde,
When Thou shalt judge us all,
Harde is it to recorde

On these men what will fall.

Yet, Lorde, I Thee desire,
For that they doe to me,
Let them not taste the hire
Of their iniquitie.

Richard Edwards.

1523 to 1566.

MASTER of the singing boys of the Chapel Royal, he published some pieces under the title of "Amantium Irae," of which the following has been much admired.

RENEWING OF LOVE.

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 smiled;
Then did she say: "Now have I found the proverb true to

prove,

The falling out of faithful friends renewing is of love."

C

Then took I paper, pen, and ink, this proverb for to write, In register for to remain of such a worthy wight.

As she proceeded thus in song unto her little brat,

Much matter uttered she of weight in place whereas she sat ; And proved plain, there was no beast, nor creature bearing life,

Could well be known to live in love without discórd and strife:

Then kissed she her little babe, and sware by God above, "The falling out of faithful friends renewing is of love."

"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 think many a

wile.

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.”

Sir Walter Raleigh.

Born 1552.

THIS unfortunate, though distinguished statesman, warrior, scholar, and poet, was born in 1552 in Devonshire. After serving in the army in various parts of the world with distinction, he prosecuted the discoveries in America, and settled a colony in that country, which he named Virginia. On his return to Europe he was knighted by Queen Elizabeth. During the Spanish invasion he acted a most prominent part, and seemed as if he were fast advancing to the summit of greatness, when by an intrigue at court he was dismissed in disgrace. He again rose to a high command, but again by base calumny he was charged with treason, and sent to the Tower, where he remained for twelve years. At last he was released, but without a pardon having been granted. His first act was to endeavour to plant a colony in Guiana, and obtained a patent under the great seal; but failing in his attempts on the Spanish settlements there, his crews became dispirited, and they returned home. To the eternal disgrace of James, he was sentenced on the old conviction to be beheaded, which was carried out on 29th October 1618 at Palace Yard. Some of Raleigh's poems have been lost, and little is known respecting those that have come down to us.

THE LIE.

Go, soul, the body's guest,
Upon a thankless errand;
Fear not to touch the best,

The truth shall be thy warrant;
Go, since I needs must die,
And give the world the lie.

Go, tell the court it glows,
And shines like rotten wood;
Go, tell the church it shows
What's good, and doth no good:
If church and court reply,
Then give them both the lie.

Tell potentates they live
Acting by others' action,
Not loved unless they give,
Not strong but by a faction.
If potentates reply,
Give potentates the lie.
Tell men of high condition
That rule affairs of state,
Their purpose is ambition,
Their practice only hate.
And if they once reply,
Then give them all the lie.

Tell them that brave it most,
They beg for more by spending,

Who in their greatest cost,

Seek nothing but commending.
And if they make reply,
Then give them all the lie.

Tell zeal it lacks devotion,
Tell love it is but lust,
Tell time it is but motion,
Tell flesh it is but dust;
And wish them not reply,
For thou must give the lie.

Tell age it daily wasteth,
Tell honour how it alters,