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[From his Poems, 1640.)
SLEEP, old man! let silence charm thee;
Dreaming slumbers overtake thee: Quiet thoughts, and darkness arm thee,
That no creaking do awake thee !
Phoebe hath put out her light,
All her shadows closing : Phæbe lends her horns to-night
To thy head's disposing.
Let no fatal bell or clock,
Pierce the hollow of thine ear! Tongueless be the early cock,
Or what else may add a fear.
Let no rat, nor silly mouse,
Move the senseless rushes; Nor a cough disturb this house
Till Aurora blushes!
Come, my sweet Corinna, come,
Laugh, and leave thy late deploring, Sable midnight makes all dumb,
But thy jealous husband's snoring.
And with thy sweet perfumed kisses,
Entertain a stranger:
Got with greatest danger.
Of Hawthornden, born in 1585, died in 1649. Mr. Pinkerton
considers him, and justly, as the second of all the Scotish poets, being only inferior to Dunbar. His “ Poems” appeared in 4to. Edin. 1616; his “ Flowres of Sion,” Edin. 1630: and both are contained, though with some variations in the text, in the 8vo. edition of London, 1656, with a curious head by Gaywood. The collection of his works, printed by Watson (Edinburgh, 1711), is also esteemed; but a correct edition of this charming poet is much wanted, and, as it is said, may be soon expected from Dr. Anderson,
SONNET TO SLEEP.
SLEEP, silence' child, sweet father of soft rest,
Since I am thine, oh! come, but with that face,
Come as thou wilt, and what thou wilt bequeath,
SONNET TO HIS LUTE.
My lute, be as thou wast, when thou didst grow
Or if that any hand to touch thee deign,
SONNET TO THE NIGHTINGALJ.
DEAR quirister, who from those shadows sends,
plains, Since winter's gone, and sun in dappled sky Enamoured smiles on woods and flow'ry plains !
The bird, as if my questions did her move,