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SAMUEL DANIEL was born in Somersetshire, in / of James he held an office about the court, and 1562. He was the son of a music-master, and, died in October, 1619. · His poems are numer. under the patronage of the Pembroke family, ous, including one in six books on the “Wars was educated at Oxford, where he devoted him of the Roses,” several plays, and many short self to the study of history and poetry. He re- | poems. They were for a long time neglected, sided for some time with the Earl of Pembroke, but Wordsworth and other recent poets have and, after the death of Spenser, became “volun- praised them for their grace of language, in tary laureate" to Queen Elizabeth, but was soon which respect he ranks among the best writers superseded by Ben Jonson. During the reigu 'of his time.
TO THE LADY MARGARET, COUNTESS | Charged with more crying sins than those he OF CUMBERLAND.
The storms of sad confusion, that may grow He that of such a height hath built his mind,
Up in the present for the coming times, And reared the dwelling of his thoughts so
| Appall not him, that hath no side at all,
But of himself, and knows the worst can fall. strong, As neither fear nor hope can shake the frame Of his resolved powers ; nor all the wind
Although his heart (so near allied to earth) Of vanity or malice pierce to wrong
Cannot but pity the perplexed state His settled peace, or to disturb the same;
Of troublous and distressed mortality, What a fair seat hath he, from whence he may
That thus make way unto the ugly birth The boundless wastes and weilds of man survey ! Of their own sorrows, and do still beget
Affliction upon imbecility; And with how free an eye doth he look down Yet seeing thus the course of things must run, Upon these lower regions of turmoil !
He looks thereon not strange, but as foredone. Where all the storms of passions mainly beat On flesh and blood, where honor, power, renown, And whilst distraught ambition compasses Are only gay afflictions, golden toil;
And is encompassed ; whilst as craft deceives, Where greatness stands upon as feeble feet And is deceived ; whilst man doth ransack man, As frailty doth; and only great doth seem And builds on blood, and rises by distress, To little minds, who do it so esteem.
And the inheritance of desolation leaves
To great-expecting hopes; he looks thereon, . He looks upon the mightiest monarcb's wars As from the shore of peace, with unwet eye, But only as on stately robberies ;
And bears no venture in impiety. Where evermore the fortune that prevails Must be the right; the ill-succeeding Mars Thus, madam, fares that man, that hath preThe fairest and the best-faced enterprise. Great pirate Pompey lesser pirates quails; A rest for his desires, and sees all things Justice, be sees (as if seduced), still fill. Beneath him; and bath learned this book of man, Conspires with power, whose cause must not be Full of the notes of frailty; and compared
The best of glory with her sufferings; He sees the face of right to appear as manifold By whom, I see, you labor all you can [near As are the passions of uncertain man;
To plant your heart; and set your thoughts as Who puts it in all colors, all attires,
His glorious mansion as your powers can bear. To serve his ends, and make his courses hold. He sees, that let deceit work what it can, Which, madam, are so soundly fashioned Plot and contrive base ways to high desires : By that clear judgment that hath carried you That the all-guiding providence doth yet Beyond the feebler limits of your kind, All disappoint, and mocks the smoke of wit. As they can stand against the strongest head
Passion can make; inured to any hue Nor is he moved with all the thunder-cracks | The world can cast; that cannot cast that mind Of tyrants' threats, or with the surly brow | Out of her form of goodness, that doth see Of power, that proudly sits on others' crimes ; Both what the best and worst of earth can be.
Which makes that whatsoever here befalls, I
And whereas none rejoice more in revenge,
LOVE IS A SICKNESS. .
All remedies refusing ;
Why so ?
A tempest everlasting :
Why so ?
Knowing the heart of man is set to be
Passing happy days and hours;
In the fall of silver showers ;
Hath her bosom decked with flowers.
And how turmoiled they are that level lie
Whose ends you see; and what can be the
Whilst the greatest torch of heaven
With bright ray warms Flora's lap,
Cheering plants with fresher sap;
Wants refresh of better hap.
Babbling guest of rocks and hills,
And sounds the accents of my ills :
Whilst that she her lover kills.
Doth me and my love despise,
That depended on her eyes;
And well he ends for love who dies.
This concord, madam, of a well-tuned mind,
I must not grieve my love, whose eyes would To put it out by discords most unkind,
read Yet doth it still in perfect union stand
Lines of delight whereon her youth might smile; With God and man; nor ever will be forced Flowers have a time before they come to seed, From that most sweet accord, but still agree, And she is young, and now must sport the while, Equal in fortunes in equality.
And sport, sweet maid, in season of these years,
And learn to gather flowers before they wither, And this note, madam, of your worthiness And where the sweetest blossom first appears, Remains recorded in so many hearts,
Let love and youth conduct thy pleasures As time nor malice cannot wrong your right,
thither. In th' inheritance of fame you must possess; Lighten forth smiles to clear the clouded air, You that have built you by your great deserts And calm the tempest which my sighs do raise ; (Out of small means) a far more exquisite Pity and smiles do best become the fair; And glorious dwelling for your honored name Pity and smiles must only yield thee praise. Than all the gold that leaden minds can Make me to say, when all my griefs are gone, frame.
| Happy the heart that sighed for such a one!
MICHAEL DRAYTON was born in Warwickshire, 1 quarians. Among his other works are “Harmo. in 1563, the year before Shakespeare saw the ny of the Church," a collection of hymns; “ Paslight in the same county. Very little is known torals," “ The Barons' Wars," "England's Heroof his life, except that in 1626 he was poet laure- ical Epistles," "The Legend of Great Cromwell,” ate. Nor is it known in what order his poems “The Muses' Elysium," "Nymphidia, the Court were published. The most important and best of Fairy," and "The Ballad of Agincourt." He known is the “Polyolbion," in thirty books, de- died in 1631, and was buried in Westminster scribing England, her legends, antiquities, and Abbey, where a monument was erected to his productions. It is full of fine passages, and is memory. An edition of his works was published 60 accurate as to be quoted as authority by anti- 1 in London in 1752-53, in four volumes 8vo.
With Spanish yew so strong,
| Be it not seen, on either of our brows,
That we one jot of former love retain.
Now at the last gasp of love's latest breath,
When, his pulse failing, passion speechless,
When faith is kneeling by his bed of death,
And innocence is closing up his eyes ;
Now, if thou wouldst, when all have given him
Not one was tardy:
Love in a humor played the prodigal,
And bade my senses to a solemn feast;
Yet more to grace the company withal,
Invites my heart to be the chiefest guest:
No other drink would serve this glutton's turn
But precious tears distilling from mine eyne,
Which with my sighs this epicure doth burn,
Quaffing carouses in this costly wine;
Where, in his cups o'ercome with foul excess,
Straightways he plays a swaggering ruftian's His arms with blood besprent,
And at the banquet in his drunkenness,
Slew his dear friend, my kind and truest heart:
A gentle warning (friends) thus may you see,
What 't is to keep a drunkard company.
With his brave brother-
If he, from heaven that filched that living fire,
Condemned by Jove to endless torment be,
I greatly marvel how you still go free,
That far beyond Prometheus did aspire :
The fire he stole, although of heavenly kind,
Which from above he craftily did take,
Of lifeless clods, us living men to make,
He did bestow in temper of the mind :
But you broke into heaven's immortal store,
Where virtue, honor, wit, and beauty lay ;
Which taking thence you have escaped away,
Yet stand as free as e'er you did before:
Yet old Prometheus punished for his rape :
Thus poor thieves suffer, when the greater
Love banished heaven, in earth was held in
Wand'ring obroad in need and beggary;
And wanting friends, though of a goddess born,
Yet craved the alms of such as passed by:
With sighs and tears still furnishing his table
With what might make the miserable blest:
But this ungrateful, for my good desert,
Well, well, my friends, when beggars grow thus Shake hands forever, cancel all our vows,
bold, And when we meet at any time again
| No marvel then though charity grow cold.