Sayth she, "I may not stay till night,
And leave my summer-hall undight,

And all for long of thee."

"My coate," sayth he, "nor yet my foulde
Shall neither sheepe, nor shepheard hould,
Except thou favour mee."

Sayth she, "Yet lever were I dead,
Then I should lose my mayden-head,
And all for love of men."

Sayth he, "Yet are you too unkind,
If in your heart you cannot finde
To love us now and then.

And I to thee will be as kinde
As Colin was to Rosalinde,

Of curtesie the flower."

"Then will I be as true," quoth she,

As ever mayden yet might be

Unto her paramour."

With that she bent her snow-white knee,
Downe by the shepheard kneeled shee,
And him she sweetely kist :

With that the shepheard whoop'd for joy,
Quoth he, "ther's never shepheards boy
That ever was so blist."

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VIII.

THE FAREWELL TO LOVE.

From Beaumont and Fletcher's play, intitled "The Lover's Progress." A. iii. sc. i,

ADIEU, fond love! farewell you wanton powers!

I am free again.

Thou dull disease of bloud and idle hours,

Bewitching pain,

Fly to fools, that sigh away their time: My nobler love to heaven doth climb, And there behold beauty still young,

That time can ne'er corrupt, nor death destroy, Immortal sweetness by fair angels sung,

And honoured by eternity and joy :

There lies my love, thither my hopes aspire,
Fond love declines, this heavenly love grows higher.

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IX.

ULYSSES AND THE SYREN,

-affords a pretty poetical contest between Pleasure and Honour. It is found at the end of "Hymen's Triumph : a pastoral tragicomedie," written by Daniel, and printed among his works, 4to, 1623.*-Daniel, who was a contemporary of Drayton's, and is said to have been poet laureat to Queen Elizabeth, was born in 1562, and died in 1619. Anne Countess of Dorset, Pembroke, and Montgomery (to whom Daniel had been Tutor), has inserted a small Portrait of him in a fulllength Picture of herself, preserved at Appleby Castle, in Cumberland.

This little poem is the rather selected for a specimen of Daniel's poetic powers, as it is omitted in the later edition of his works, 2 vols. 12mo. 1718.

SYREN.

COME, worthy Greeke, Ulysses come,
Possesse these shores with me,
The windes and seas are troublesome,
And here we may be free.

Here may we sit and view their toyle,
That travaile in the deepe,

Enjoy the day in mirth the while,
And spend the night in sleepe.

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* In this edition it is collated with a copy printed at the end of Tragedie of Cleopatra." London, 1607, 12mo.

his "

VOL. I.

M

ULYSSES.

Faire nymph, if fame or honour were
To be attain'd with ease,

Then would I come and rest with thee,
And leave such toiles as these:
But here it dwels, and here must I

With danger seek it forth;

To spend the time luxuriously
Becomes not men of worth.

SYREN.

Ulysses, O, be not deceiv'd
With that unreall name :
This honour is a thing conceiv'd,
And rests on others' fame.

Begotten only to molest

Our peace, and to beguile

(The best thing of our life) our rest, And give us up to toyle!

ULYSSES.

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And ease findes tediousnes, as much
As labour yeelds annoy.

SYREN.

Then pleasure likewise seemes the shore,
Whereto tendes all your toyle;

Which you forego to make it more,

And perish oft the while.

Who may disport them diversly,

Find never tedious day;

And ease may have variety,

As well as action may.

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ULYSSES.

But natures of the noblest frame
These toyles and dangers please;
And they take comfort in the same,
As much as you in ease;

And with the thought of actions past
Are recreated still :

When pleasure leaves a touch at last
To shew that it was ill.

SYREN.

That doth opinion only cause,
That's out of custom bred;
Which makes us many other laws,
Than ever nature did.

No widdowes waile for our delights,
Our sports are without blood;
The world we see by warlike wights
Receives more hurt than good.

ULYSSES.

But yet the state of things require
These motions of unrest,

And these great spirits of high desire
Seem borne to turne them best:
To purge the mischiefes, that increase
And all good order mar:

For oft we see a wicked peace,
To be well chang'd for war.

SYREN.

Well, well, Ulysses, then I see
I shall not have thee here;
And therefore I will come to thee,
And take my fortune there.

I must be wonne that cannot win,
Yet lost were I not wonne :
For beauty hath created bin

T'undoo or be undone.

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X.

CUPID'S PASTIME.

THIS beautiful poem, which possesses a classical elegance hardly to be expected in the age of James I. is printed from the 4th edition of Davison's "Poems,"* &c. 1621. It is also found in a later miscellany, intitled, "Le Prince d'Amour," 1660, 8vo.Francis Davison, editor of the poems above referred to, was son of that unfortunate secretary of state, who suffered so much from the affair of Mary Q. of Scots. These poems, he tells us in his preface, were written by himself, by his brother [Walter], who was a soldier in the wars of the Low Countries, and by some dear friends "anonymoi." Among them are found some pieces by Sir J. Davis, the Countess of Pembroke, Sir Philip Sidney, Spenser, and other wits of those times.

In the fourth vol. of Dryden's Miscellanies, this poem is attributed to Sidney Godolphin, Esq.; but erroneously, being probably written before he was born. One edit, of Davison's book was published in 1608. Godolphin was born in 1610, and died in 1642-3. Ath. Ox. ii. 23.

IT chanc'd of late a shepherd swain,
That went to seek his straying sheep,
Within a thicket on a plain

Espied a dainty nymph asleep.

Her golden hair o'erspred her face;
Her careless arms abroad were cast;

Her quiver had her pillows place;

Her breast lay bare to every blast.

The shepherd stood and gaz'd his fill ;
Nought durst he do ; nought durst he say;
Whilst chance, or else perhaps his will,
Did guide the god of love that way.

* See the full title in Vol. ii. Book iii. No. iv.

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