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" The wrinkles in my brow,

“ Thus must I youth give up, The furrows in my face,

Whose badge I long did wear ; Say limping age will lodge him now To them I yield the wanton cup

Where youth must give him place." That better may it bear.

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“ The higher that the cedar tree under the heavens does grow,
The more in danger is the top when sturdy winds 'gin blow:
Who judges then the princely throne to be devoid of hate,
Doth not yet know what heaps of ill lye hid in such estate.
Such dangers great, such gripes of mind, such toil do they sustain,
That oftentimes of God they wish to be unkinged again.”


" When all is done and said, in the end thus shall you find,
He most of all doth bathe in bliss, that hath a quiet mind :
And clear from worldly cares, to deem can be content,
The sweetest time in all his life in thinking to be spent.

“ The body subject is to fickle Fortune's power,
And to a million of mishaps is casual every hour :
And death in time doth change it to a elod of clay,
Whenas the mind, which is divine, runs never to decay.

Companion none is like unto the mind alone,
For many have been harmed by speech, through thinking few or none :
Fear oftentimes restraineth words, but makes not thoughts to cease,
And he speaks best that hath the skill when for to hold his peace.

“ Our wealth leaves us at death, our kinsmen at the grave,
But virtues of the mind unto the heavens with us we have:
Wherefore for virtue's sake I can be well content,
The sweetest time of all my life to deem in thinking spent."


" When I behold my bier, my last and posting horse,
That bear shall to the grave my vile and carrion corse,

Then say I, silly wretch, why dost thou put thy trust
In things each made of clay, that soon will turn to dust.

“ Dost thou not see the young, the hardy, and the fair,
That now are past and gone as tho' they never were ?
Dost thou not see thyself draw hourly to thy last,
As shaft which that is shot at bird that flyeth fast?

“ Dost thou not see how death through-smiteth with his lance,
Some by war, some by plague, and some by worldly chance ?
What thing is there on earth, for pleasure that was made,
But go'th more swift away than doth the summer shade ?

“Lo! here the summer flower, that sprung this other day,
But winter weareth it as fast, and bloweth clean away:
Even so shalt thou consume, from youth to loathsome age,
For death he doth not spare the prince more than the page.


Thy house shall be of clay, a clod under thy head;
Until the latter day, the grave shall be thy bed :
Until the blowing trump doth say to all and some,

* Rise up out of your grave, for now the Judge is come.'" If Lord Vaux's life was a gay one,

excite interest even where it is diffi. it must be owned that his lines have, cult to bestow much praise. with wonderful success, shown “ the counterfeit action" of the lugubrious, though we should hardly say with Puttenham, that he has done it “ very lively and pleasantly.” If his conversation was like his poetry, he must Among good things I prove and find have played at Court the part of the The quiet life doth most abound, Consul's Companion in the Roman And sure to the contented mind triumph, and both Henry and his There is no riches to be found. courtiers might have better profited by such lessons. We return to Tottel's Collection, from

I heard a herdsman once compare which we shall take a few further spe- That quiet nights he had mo slept, cimens, believing that the importance And had mo merry days to spare of this period, in giving a direction to Than he which oughtf the beasts he kept." the sentiments and a shape to the language of poetry among us, may


“ The pleasant years that seem so swift to run,
The merry days to end so fast that feet,
The joyful nights on which it daw'th so soon,
The happy hours which mo do miss than meet,
Do all consume as snow against the sun,
And death makes end of all that life begun.

“ If man would mind what burdens life doth bring,
What grievous crimes to God he doth commit:
What plagues, what pangs, what perils thereby spring,
With no sure hour in all his days to sit :
He would sure think, as with great cause I do,
The day of death were better of the two."

* Compared to

of Owned.

“ Of youth the lusty flower, THAT EACH THING IS IURT OF ITSELF. Which whilom stood in price,

Shall vanish quite within an hour, “ Why fearest thou the outward foe,

As fire consumes the ice.
Where thou thyself thy harm doth feed ?
Of grief or hurt, of pain or woe,

“ Where is become that wight, Within each thing is sown the seed, For whose sake Troy town

Withstood the Greeks, till ten years fight “ So fine was never yet the cloth,

Had rased their walls adown?
No smith so hard his iron beat;
But th' one consumed was with moth,

“ Did not the worms consume T'other with canker all to-fret.

Her carrion to the dust?

Did dreadful death forbear his fume The knotty oak and wainscot old

For beauty, pride, or lust ?” Within doth eat the silly worm ;

We find ourselves here again in the Even so a mind in envy rolled,

death's-head school of poetry, of which Always within itself doth burn.

the last verse may have too rank an

odour for the polite nostrils of modern “ Thus every thing that nature wrought, Within itself his hurt doth bear;

days. We learn that among Tottel's No outward harm need to be sought

contributors we should include the Where enemies be within so near.

poet Churchyard, to whom, as far as the name goes, the most doleful of

these ditties might be fittingly ascribed. OF TUE VANITY OF MAN'S LIFE. Their funereal solemnity comes oddly

from that courtly company to wbom “ Vain is the fleeting wealth

they are attributed. What a different Whereon the world stays,

collection would have proceeded from Since stalking time by privy stealth, the courtly makers of other reigns ! Encroacheth on our days.

In compliment to the second writer

of English blank verse we shall in" And eld which creepeth fast

clude among our extracts from Tottel, To taint us with her wound,

before closing them, some lines of Will turn each bliss into a blast

Nicholas Grimoald, in commendation Which lasteth but a stound.*

of Friendship
“ Of all the heavenly gifts that mortal men commend,
What trusty treasure in the world can countervail a friend ;
Our health is soon decayed ; goods, casual, light and vain ;
Broke have we seen the force of power, and honour suffer stain.
When fickle fortune fails, this knot endureth still;
Thy kin out of their kind may swerve, when friends owe thee good-will.
What sweeter solace shall befal, than one to find,
Upon whose breast thou may’st repose the secrets of thy mind ?
He waileth at thy wo; his tears with thine be shed;
With thee doth he all joys enjoy, so lief a life is led.
Behold thy friend, and of thyself the pattern see,
One soul, a wonder shall it seem, in bodies twain to be :
In absence, present ; rich in want ; in sickness sound :
Yea, after death, alive mayst thou by thy sure friend be found.”

It seems to have been quite gratui. ( that the wives in these our days were tous in Grimoald, who was an eccle- to their mates so kind.” siastic, and could scarcely be a married

The Paradise of Dainty Devices, man, to insert in another of his coup- aptly furnished with sundry pithy and lets on this subject an unhandsome re

learned inventions, devised and written flection on the matrons of the age,

for the most part by M. Edwards, which might be used, however, to

sometime of Her Majesty's Chapel ; raise a laugh against the husbands.

the rest by sundry learned gentlemen “ Down Theseus went to hell, Pirith his both of honour and worship,” was pubfriend to find ;

lished in 1576. It contains, as may

An hour.

already have been inferred, rather too trasted with each other as the Geormuch of the cypress and yew to be a gics of Virgil and the Five Hundred very delicious Eden ; and its ivies and Points of Good Husbandry of Thomas myrtles are not of a much livelier cast. Tusser, Gentleman. In the one we We should say, indeed, that the love. see poetry in all its power and beauty songs in it are rather duller than the employed to adorn and elevate the art dirges. We select a part of one piece, which it professes to teach ; harmony already printed by Percy and by of numbers, dignity of diction, fertility Ellis, which seems to us to be well of invention, tenderness of sentiment, versified, and in the last verse to pos. sublimity of thought. In the other sess considerable stateliness both of we see nothing of the Poet's skill exstyle and sentiment. The author, cept the simple device of easy rhythm whose initials are M. T., is not cer- and homely rhyme, intended rather to tainly known.

aid the memory than to delight the

ear, every thing else being left on the Man's flitting life finds surest stay

level of the most pedestrian prose. Where sacred virtue beareth sway. Yet Tusser's verses were not without “ The sturdy rock for all his strength,

use in the formation of the English By raging seas is rent in twain;

mind; and it may be said in his praise, The marble stone is pierced at length

that “ sure the Eternal Master found With little drops of drizzling rain.

the single talent well employed." The The ox doth yield unto the yoke,

qualities of good sense, good morals, The steel obey'th the hammer stroke. simplicity and sincerity, should never

be without their reward. The mixed “ Yea, man himself, unto whose will

lessons which he inculcates of hospiAll things are bounden to obey, tality and thrift, sobriety and cheerfulFor all his wit and worthy skill

ness, attention to this world and care Doth fade at length, and fall away.

for the next, were well calculated to There is no thing but time doth waste : please the taste and confirm the virtues The heavens, the earth consume at last. of the honest yeomen for whom they

were designed, and might help, in hum" But virtue sits triumphing still

ble minds, to prepare the way for Upon the throne of glorious Fame ; higher sentiments and better poetry Though spiteful Death man's body kill, on similar themes. We shall venture

Yet hurts he not his virtuous name. to extract a few moral verses from one By life or death, whatso betides,

of the unconnected chapters of which The state of virtue never slides."

his work is composed. We may reIt deserves our approving notice that mark in passing that, in the scansion the poetical collections, of which we of his lines, Tusser is considered to be have now spoken, contain scarcely a remarkably correct according to the word or thought which could bring a pronunciation of his day. His poem blush into the purest cheek either of was originally published in 1557, but those times or of our own.

was considerably expanded in subse. It would be difficult to find two quent editions. He died a very old compositions with any similarity of man in 1580. name and purpose, so amusingly con



" The lands and the riches that here we possess
Be none of our own, if a God we profess;
But lent us of him as his talent of gold,
Which being demanded, who can it withhold ?

God maketh no writing that justly doth say
How long we shall have it-a year or a day;
But leave it we must, (howsoever wo leave),
When Atrop shall pluck us from hence by the sleeve,

" To death we must stoop, be we high, be we low,
But how and how suddenly few be that know ;
What carry we then but a sheet to the grave,

To cover this carcass of all that we have ?"


From George Gascoigne, once so Yea, tho' thou find no thing amiss warmly admired, and then so tho- Which thou can'st call to mind, roughly forgotten, whose unthrifty Yet ever more remember this,

There is the more behind. youth was redeemed by a sober manhood, and, as an eyewitness tells us, by a godly and charitable end,” we And think how well soe'er it be could borrow several things which de- That thou hast spent the day, serve praise, and might afford plea. It came of God, and not of thee, His minor poems, all smoothly

So to direct thy way. and easily written, have something of Thus, if thou try thy daily deeds, fancy, and much of good feeling.

And pleasure in this pain, They show a gradual advance in taste

Thy life shall cleanse thy corn from weeds,

And thine shall be the gain. and polish, as applied to popular poetry, on which those qualities seem better bestowed than on the cold rap

“ But if thy sinful sluggish eye tures and forced fictions of Petrarcan

Will venture for to wink love. Gascoigne's lullaby to his youth- Before thy wading will may try ful passions is ingeniously conceived,

How far thy soul may sink : though unequally executed. It flows Beware and wake, for else thy bed,

Which soft and smooth is made, with a somewhat sweet and slumberous melody Take, for example, the May heap more harm upon thy head

Than blows of enemies' blade. first verse:

Thus if this pain procure thine ease " Sing lullaby, as women do,

In bed as thou dost lie,
(Wherewith they bring their babes to rest;) Perhaps it shall not God displease
And lullaby can I sing too,

To sing thus soberly.
As womanly as can the best.
With lullaby they still the child,

I see that sleep is lent me here
And if I be not much beguiled,

To ease my weary bones, Full many wanton babes have I,

As death at last shall eke appear Which must be stilled with lullaby.”

To ease my grievous groans.

My daily sports, my paunch full fed, His Good-Morrow and Good Night Have caused my drowsy eye ; are both of them meritorious composi. As careless life, in quiet bed, tions, infected, indeed, with the vulgar Might cause my soul to die. disease of running an analogy for ever on all fours, whether it will or no; but

“ The stretching arms, the yawning probably not on that account the less po

breath pular with the million. Though averse Which I to bedward use, to separate what their author intended

Are patterns of the pangs of death for companions, we must, from con- When life will me refuse. siderations of space, confine ourselves And of my bed each sundry part to the quotation of one of these pieces, In shadows doth resemble and shall give the preference to the The sundry shapes of death whose dart Good Night," as encroaching least Shall make my flesh to tremble. on the department of psalmody. Gascoigne, we may observe, died in the

My bed itself is like the grave, prime of life, in 1577.

My sheets the winding-sheet,

My clothes the mould which I must have GASCOIGNE'S GOOD-NIGHT.

To cover me most meet. " When thou hast spent the lingering day

The hungry fleas which frisk so fresh,

To worms I can compare,
In pleasure and delight ;
Or after toil and weary way

Which greedily shall gnaw my flesh,
Dost seek to rest at night ;

And leave the bones full bare.
Unto thy pains or pleasures past
Add this one labour yet;

“ The waking cock that early crows Ere sleep close up thine eye too fast,

To wear the night away, Do not thy God forget.

Puts in my mind the trump that blows

Before the latter day. “ But search within thy secret thought And as I rise up lustily What deeds did thee befall;

When sluggish sleep is past, And if thou find amiss in aught,

So hope I to rise joyfully To God for mercy call.

To judgment at the last.

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