WHAT do'ft thou mean to cheat me of my heart,
To take all mine, and give me none again?
Or have thine eyes fuch magic, or that art,
That what they get, they ever do retain ?
Play not the tyrant, but take some remorse,
Rebate thy fpleen, if but for pity's fake;
Or cruel, if thou can'ft not, let us scorse,
And for one piece of thine my whole heart take.
But what of pity do I speak to thee,
Whose breaft is proof against complaint or prayer?
Or can I think what my reward fhall be
From that proud beauty, which was my betrayer?
What talk I of a heart, when thou haft none?
Or if thou haft, it is a flinty one.

LIII, Another to the river Ankor,
CLEAR Ankor, on whose filver-fanded fhore,
My foul-fhrin'd faint, my fair Idea lies,

O bleffed brook, whose milk-white fwans adore
Thy crystal ftream refined by her eyes,
Where fweet myrrh-breathing zephyr in the fpring
Gently diftils his nectar-dropping fhowers,
Where nightingales in Arden fit and fing,
Amongst the dainty dew-impearled flowers;
Say thus, fair brook, when thou shalt fee thy queen,
Lo, here thy shepherd spent his wand'ring years,
And in thefe fhades, dear nymph, he oft had been,
And here to thee he facrific'd his tears:

Fair Arden, thou my Tempe art alone,
And thou, fweet Ankor, art my Helicon.

LIV.

YET read at last the story of my woe,
The dreary abstracts of my endless cares,
With my life's forrow interlined fo,

Smok'd with my fighs, and blotted with my tears,
The fad memorials of my miferies,
Pen'd in the grief of mine afflicted ghoft,
My life's complaint in doleful elegies,
With fo pure love, as time could never boat;
Receive the incenfe which I offer here,
By my ftrong faith ascending to thy fame :
My zeal, my hope, my vows, my praife, my pray'r,
My foul's oblations to thy facred name;
Which name my muse to highest heav'ns fhall
raife,

By chafte defire, true love, and virtuous praise.

LV.

My fair, if thou wilt regifter my love,

A world of volumes fhall thereof arise;
Preserve my tears, and thou thyself shalt prove
| A second flood, down raining from my eyes:
Note but my fighs, and thine eyes shall behold
The fun-beams fmother'd with immortal smoke;
And if by thee my prayers may be enroll'd,
They heaven and earth to pity fhall provoke :
Look thou into my breast, and thou shalt see
Chafte holy vows for my foul's facrifice ; [thee,
That foul (fweet maid) which fo hath honour'd
Erecting trophies to thy facred eyes,

Thofe eyes to my heart fhining ever bright,
When darkness hath obfcur'd each other light.

LVI. An allufion to the Eaglets.

WHEN like an eaglet I first found my love,
For that the virtue I thereof would k::ow.
Upon the neft I fet it forth to prove,
If it were of that kingly kind or no:
But it no fooner faw my fun appear,
But on her rays with open eyes it stood,
To fhew that I had hatch'd it for the air,
And rightly came from that brave mounting brood;
And when the plumes were fumm'd with sweet
defire,

To prove the pinions, it ascends the skies;
Do what I could, it need'fly would aspire
To my foul's fun, those two celestial eyes:
Thus from my breast, where it was bred alone,
It after thee is like an eaglet flown.

LVII.

You best discern'd of my mind's inward eyes,
And yet your graces outwardly divine,
Whole dear remembrance in my bofom lies,
Too rich a relic for fo poor a fhrine:
You, in whom nature chofe herself to view,
When the her own perfection would admire,
Belowing all her excellence on you;

At whole pure eyes love lights his hallow'd fire,
Ev'n as a man that in fome trance hath seen,
More than his wond'ring utt'rance can unfold,
That wrapp'd in spirit, in better worlds hath been,
So muft your praise distractedly be told;

Most of all fhort, when I should shew you moft In your perfections fo much am I loft.

LVIII.

IN former times, fuch as had store of coin,
In wars at home, or when for conquefts bound,
For fear that fome their treasure should purloin,
Gave it to keep to fpirits within the ground;
And to attend it, them as ftrongly ty'd,
Till they return'd; home when they never came,
Such as by art to get the fame have try'd,
From the strong spirit by no means force the fame;
Nearer men come, that further flies away,
Striving to hold it strongly in the deep;
Ev'n as this fpirit, fo you alone do play
With thofe rich beauties heaven gives you to keep:

Pity fo left to th' coldness of your blood, Not to avail you, nor do others good.

LIX. To Proverbs.

As love and I late harbour'd in one inn
With proverbs thus each other entertain:
In love there is no lack, thus I begin;
Fair words make fools, replieth he again;
Who fpares to speak, doth spare to speed, (quoth I);
As well (faith he) too forward, as too floru:
Fortune affts the boldeft, I reply;

A bafty man (quoth he) ne'er wanted woe :
Labour is light, where love (quoth I) doth pay;
(Saith he) Light burdens beavy, if far borne:
(Quoth I) The main loft, caft the by away;
Y have fpun a fair thread, he replies in fcorn.
And having thus a while each other thwarted,
Fools as we met, fo fools again we parted.

LX.

DEFINE my weal, and tell the joys of heaven,
Exprefs my woes, and fhew the pains of hell,
Declare what fate unlucky stars have given,
And ask a world upon my life to dwell,

Make known the faith that fortune could not move,

Compare my worth with others bafe defert,
Let virtue be the touch-ftone of my love,
So may the heavens read wonders in my heart;
Behold the clouds which have eclips'd my fun,
And view the croffes which my courfe do let
Tell me, that ever fince the world begun,
So fair a rifing had fo foul a fet :

And fee if time (if he would ftrive to prove)
Can fhew a fecond to fo pure a love.

LXI.

SINCE there's no help, come let us kifs and part,
Nay, I have done, you get no more of me,
And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart,
That thus fo clearly I myself can free;

Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows,
And when we meet at any time again,
Be it not feen in either of our brows,
That we one jot of former love retain ;
Now at the last gasp of love's latest breath,
When his pulfe failing, paffion fpeechless lies,
When faith is kneeling by his bed of death,
And innocence is clofing up his eyes,

[over, Now if thou would'ft, when all have given him From death to life thou might'ft him yet recover,

LXII.

WHEN first I ended, then I first began,
Then more I travell'd further from my reft,
Where moft I loft, there most of all I wan,
Pined with hunger, rifing from a feast.
Methinks I fly, yet want I legs to go,
Wife in conceit, in at a very fot,
Ravifh'd with joy amidst a hell of woe,
What most I feem, that fureft am I not.
I build my hopes a world above the sky,
Yet with the mole I creep into the earth,
In plenty I am flarv'd with penury,
And yet I furfeit in the greatest dearth:
I have, I want, despair, and yet desire,
Burn'd in a fea of ice, drown'd 'midst a fire.

LXIII.

TRUCE, gentle love, a parly now I crave.
Methinks 'tis long fince first these wars begun,
Nor thou, nor I, the better yet can have,
Bad is the match, where neither party won.
I offer free conditions of fair peace,
My heart for hoftage that it shall remain,
Difcharge our forces, here let malice cease,
So for my pledge thou give me pledge again:
Or if nothing but death will ferve thy turn,
Still thirfting for fubverfion of my state;
Do what thou canft, raze, maffacre, and burn,
Let the world fee the utmost of thy hate:
I fend defiance, fince if overthrown,
Thou vanquishing, the conquest is mine own.

READER, to him that may (perhaps) fay my fubject is idle and worthlefs, I might this anfwer (if he will fee in reading, or read with underftanding) that the greatest masters in this art (though myself, not for any affectation of fingularity) have written upon as flight a matter. As the princes of the Greeks and Latins, the first of the Frogs War, the latter of a poor Gnat; and Vida very wittily of the Chefs-play and Silk-worm; befides many other that I could recite of the like kind. By how much immaterial, so much the

more difficult, to handle with any encomiaftic defence, or paffionate comparison, (as their strong teftimony) who can give Virtue her due, and by the Powerfulness of wit, maintain Vice not vicioufly. Some other likewise in a paradoxical manner, as Ifocrates's Oration in praise of Helen, whom all the world difpraiseth: Agrippa's declamation upon the Vanity of the Sciences, which knowledge all the world admireth. Thus leaving thee favourably to cenfure of my poor labours, I end.

M. DRAYTON

QUE

UE nova Lemniacas deturbant tela Volucres? Quis furor? aligero perftringit corpore Graios, Transfixo, Proceres? Pofita Pæantius irâ, Contulit Herculeas ad Troica fata Pharetras. Fallimur? an puro tonuit pater altus Olympo? Aut tremuit fonitu Phœbæi Cœlifer arcus? Novimus augurium: tanto Deus ille tumultu Sacrorum exagitat mortalia Pecora Vatum. Hinc furor in fylvas Draytonum mittit: oberrat Hinc faltus nullo fignatos tramite Mufa;

Hinc & in aëriam libratur machina gentem:
Quæ ferit immemores (iterato verbere) Reges:
Proterit & Vulgus (audaci more) profanum.
Eia, age: dum crebrò fugiat tremebundus ab
i&u

Immitis fervus vitii, decedat ab oris
Anglorum longè; luftratis lampade fancta
Cujus conjun&i exultant fulgore Britanni.

A. GRENEWAL.

WHAT time the fun by his all-quick'ning power,
Gives life and birth to every plant and flower,
The ftrength and fervour of whose pregnant ray
Buds every branch, and blossoms every spray;
As the firm fap (the yearly courfe affign'd)
From the full root, doth fwell the plenteous rind:
The vital fpirits long nourish'd at the heart,
Fly with fresh fire to each exterior part:
Which stirs defire in hot and youthful bloods;
To breathe their dear thoughts to the lift'ning
woods.
[frequent,
With those light flocks, which the fair fields
This frolic feason luckily I went,
And as the reft did, did I frankly too,

Wherein methought fome God or Power divine
Did my clear knowledge wond'rously refine.
For that amongst those fundry varying notes,
Which the birds fent from their melodious throats,
Each fylvan found I truly understood,
Become a perfect linguift of the wood:
Their flight, their fong, and every other fign,
By which the world did anciently divine,
As the old Tufcans, in that skill profound,
Which firft great Car, and wife Threfias found,
To me bequeath'd their knowledge to descry,
The depth and fecrets of their augury.

But whether by some casual defect,

All flowers alike the time did not respect :
Some whose new roots ne'er faw a former May
Flourish now fair, those wither'd quite away,
Into my thoughts that incidently brings
Th' inconftant paffage of all worldly things.
The rareft work whereat we wonder long,
Obfcur'd by time that envy could not wrong.
And what in life can mortal man defire,
That scarcely com'n, but quickly doth retire!
The monarchies had time to grow to head,
And at the height their conquer'd honours fled :
And by their wane thofe latter kingdoms rose,
That had their age to win, their hour to lose,
Which with much forrow brought into my mind,
Their wretched fouls fo ignorantly blind,
(When ev'n the great'st things in the world un-
stable)

That climb to fall, and damn them for a Babel.
Whilft thus my thoughts were ftrongly enter-
tain'd,
[gain'd;
The greatest lamp of heaven his height had
Seeking fome fhade to lend content to me,
Lo, near at hand, I fpy'd a goodly tree;
Under th' extenfure of whofe lordly arms,
The fmall birds warbled their harmonious charms.
Where fitting down to cool the burning heat,
Through the moift pores evap'rating by fweat,
Yielding my pleas'd thought to content (by chance)
I on a fudden dropt into a trance:

How they would couple at St. (6) Valentine:
Some other birds that of their loves forfaken,
To the close deserts had themselves betaken,
And in the dark groves where they made abode,
Sung many a fad and mournful Palinod.
And every bird fhew'd in his proper kind,
What virtue nature had to him affign'd.
The pretty Turtle, and the kiffing Dove,
Their faiths in wedlock, and chafte nuptial love :
The Hens (to women) fanctity exprefs,
Hallowing their eggs: the Swallow cleanliness,
Sweeting her neft, and purging it of dung,
And every hour is picking of her young.
The Hern, by foaring fhews tempestuous showers,
The princely Cock diftinguisheth the hours.
The Kite, his train him guiding in the air,
Prescribes the helm, inftructing how to steer.
The Crane to labour, fearing fome rough flaw,
With fand and gravel burthening his craw:
Noted by man, which by the fame did find
To ballaft fhips for steadiness in wind.
And by the form and order in his flight,
To march in war, and how to watch by night.
The first of house that e'er did groundfel lay,
Which then was homely, of rude lome and clay,
Learn'd of the Mertin: Philomel in fpring,
Teaching by art her little one to fing;

(a) Divination by Birds. (b) The time when birds couple.

Before Amphion ever knew a found.
Covering with mofs the dead's unclofed eye,
The little Red-breast teacheth charity.
So many there in fundry things excel,
Time fcarce could ferve their properties to tell.
I cannot judge if it the place fhould be,
That should prefent this pretty dream to me,
That near the eaves and shelter of a flack
(Set to support it) at a beech's back,
In a ftubb'd tree with ivy overgrown,
On whom the fun had scarcely ever fhone,
A broad-fac'd creature, hanging of the wing,
Was fet to fleep whilft every bird did fing.
His drowsy head ftill leaning on his breast,
For all the sweet tuncs Philomel expreft:
No fign of joy did in his looks appear,
Or ever mov'd his melancholy cheer.
Afcallaphus (c), that brought into my head,
In Ovid's changes metamorphofed,
Or very like but him I read aright,
Solemn of looks as he was flow of fight;
And to affure me that it was the fame;
The birds about him ftrangely wond'ring came.

Fie, quoth the Linnet, tripping on the spray;
Roufe thee, thou fluggish bird, this mirthful May,
For fhame come forth, and leave thy luskise neft,
And haunt these forefts bravely as the best.
Take thy delight in yonder goodly tree,
Where the fweet Merle, and warbling Mavis be."
Next, quoth the Titmoufe, which at hand did fit,
'Shake off this moody melancholy fit.
See the fmall brooks as through these groves
they travel,

Sporting for joy upon the filver gravel,
Mock the fweet notes the neighb'ring Sylvans fing,
With the smooth cadence of their murmuring.
Each Bee with honey on her laden thigh,
From Palm to Palm (as carelessly they fly)
Catch the foft wind, and him his course bereaves,
To stay and dally with th' enamoured leaves.'
This while the Owl, which well himfelf could bear,
That to their short speech lent a lift'ning ear;
Begins at length to roufe him in the beech,
And to the rest thus frames his reverend speech:
(d) ' O all you feather'd Chorifters of nature,
That power which hath distinguish'd every crea-
ture,

Gave feveral ufes unto every one,
As feveral feeds and things to live upon :
Some, as the Lark, that takes delight to build
Far from refort, amidst the vastie field;
The Pelican in deferts far abroad,
Her dear-lov'd iffue fafely doth unload;
The Sparrow and the Robinet agen,
To live near to the manfion place of men;
And nature wifely which hath each thing taught,
This place beft fitting my content forethought,
For I prefume not of the ftately trees,

Yet where forefight lefs threat'ning danger fees,
The tempeft thrilling from the troubled air,
Strikes not the fhrub, the place of my repair.

(c) Afcallaphus in Bubonem.

(d) The Owl's speech to the other birds, VOL. III.

T'intrap my fteps, which oft have you betray'd.
A filent fleep, my gentle fellow birds,
By day a calm of sweet content affords;
By night I tower the heaven, devoid of fear,
Nor dread the Gryphon to furprise me there.
And into many a fecret place I peep,
And fee ftrange things while you fecurely fleep.
Wonder not, birds, although my heavy eyes
By day feem dim to fee your vanities.'

Happy's that fight the fecret'it things can spy,
By feeming purblind to community;
And bleft are they that to their own content,
See that by night which fome by day repent.
Did not mine eyes feem dim to others fight,
Without fufped they could not fee fo right.
Oh! filly creatures, happy is the state,
That weighs not pity, nor refpecteth hate:
Better's that place, though homely and obfcure,
Where we repose in safety and secure,
Then where great birds with lordly tallons feize
Not what they ought, but what their fancies please:
And by their power prevailing in this fort,
To rob the poor, account it but a sport :
Therefore of two, I chose the leffer evil,
Better fit ftill, then rife to meet the devil."

Thus the poor Owl, unhappily could preach,
Some that came near in compafs of his reach,
Taking this item, with a general ear
("A guilty confcience feels continual fear)
Soon to their forrow fecretly do find,
"Some that had wink'd, not altogether blind.
And finding now which they before had heard,
"Wifdom not all, in every garish bird,
Shrewdly fufpect, that breviting by night,
Under pretence that he was ill of fight,,
Slily had feen which fecretly not kept,
Simply they walk'd; he fubtily had flept.
The envious Crow, that is fo full of spight,
The hateful Buzzard, and the ravenous Kite,
The greedy raven, that for death (e) doth call,
Spoiling poor lambs as from their dams they fall,
That picketh out the dying creature's eye;
The thievish Daw, and the diffembling Pye,
That only live upon the poorers fpoil,
That feed on Dung-hills of the lothfome foil:
The Wood-pecker, whofe hard'ned beak hath
broke,

And pierc'd the heart of many a folid oak:
That where the kingly Eagle wont to prey,
In the calm fhade in heat of summer's day :
Of thousands of fair trees there ftands not one
For him to perch or fet his foot upon.
And now they fee they fafely had him here,
T'efchew th' effect of every future fear:
Upon the fudden all thefe murd'rous fowl,
Faften together on the harmless Owl,
The cruel Kite, because his claws were keen,
Upon his broad-face wreaks his angry teen.
His weafant next, the ravenous Raven plies,
The Pye and Buzzard tugging at his eyes.
The Crow is digging at his breast amain;
The fharp nebb'd Hecco ftabbing at his brain;

(c) Pliny. Na