SLEE

Thy sheep be in the corn;

And for one blast of thy minniken mouth,
Thy sheep shall take no harm.

RABBED age and youth

CRA

Cannot live together: Youth is full of pleasance, Age is full of care; Youth like summer morn,

Age like winter weather; Youth like summer brave,

Age like winter bare. Youth is full of sport,

Age's breath is short;

Youth is nimble, age is lame;

Youth is hot and bold,

Age is weak and cold;

Youth is wild, and age is tame.

Age, I do abhor thee,

Youth, I do adore thee;

O, my love, my love is young!

Age, I do defy thee

:

O, sweet shepherd, hie thee!

For methinks thou stay'st too long.

Nor scrape trencher, nor wash dish:

'Ban, 'Ban, Ca-Caliban

Has a new master-get a new man. Freedom, hey-day! hey-day, Freedom! Freedom, hey-day, Freedom!

LIFE.

LORD BACON.-1561–1626.

[The great English Philosopher and Chancellor was the youngest son of Sir Nicholas Bacon, and educated at Cambridge. Called to the Bar in 1582, he entered Parliament in 1583, was Knighted in 1603, became Attorney-General in 1613, Lord Keeper four years later, and shortly afterwards Lord Chancellor, Baron Verulum, and Viscount St. Albans. Although of comparatively less celebrity as a poet, the following claims attention, coming from a man of such mature experience and thought, seldom expressing himself in verse.]

THE

HE World's a bubble, and the Life of Man
Less than a span;

In his conception wretched; from the womb

So to the tomb;

Curst from his cradle, and brought up to years
With cares and fears.

Who then to frail mortality shall trust,
But limns on water, or but writes in dust.

Yet whilst with sorrow here we live opprest,
What life is best?

Courts are but only superficial schools
To dandle fools:

The rural parts are turned into a den
Of savage men :

And where's a city from foul vice so free,
But may be termed the worst of all the three?

Domestic cares afflict the husband's bed,
Or pains his head:

Those that live single, take it for a curse,
Or do things worse:

Some would have children; those that have them, moan,

Or wish them gone:

What is it, then, to have, or have no wife,

But single thraldom, or a double strife?

Our own affections still at home to please
Is a disease:

To cross the seas to any foreign soil,
Peril and toil :

Wars with their noise affright us; when they cease,
We' are worse in peace:--

What then remains, but that we still should cry
For being born, or, being born, to die?

I MUST NOT GRIEVE.

BY SAMUEL DANIEL.-1562-1619.

[SAMUEL DANIEL was born near Taunton in Somersetshire, in 1562; and was educated at Oxford, at the charge of the Countess of Pembroke, the sister of Sir Philip Sidney. He became Poet Laureate at the death of Spenser, but was soon superseded by Ben Jonson. In the reign of James I. he was made Groom of the Privy Chamber to the Queen. Some years before his death he retired to a farm in Somersetshire, where he died in 1619.

Daniel was a good and amiable man: his diction is admirable, and his poems abound in beautiful passages.]

I

MUST not grieve, my love, whose eyes would read

Lines must delight, whereon her youth might smile;

Flowers have time before they come to seed,
And she is young, and now must sport the while.
And sport, sweet maid, in season of these years,
And learn to gather flowers before they wither;
And where the sweetest blossom first appears,
Let love and youth conduct thy pleasures thither,
Lighten forth smiles to clear the clouded air,
And calm the tempest which my sighs do raise :
Pity and smiles do best become the fair;
Pity and smiles must only yield thee praise.
Make me to say, when all my griefs are gone,
Happy the heart that sighed for such a one.