Tam Martis quam Artis Nenia: or, The Soldier's Sorrow and Learninge's Losse.

THIS is a manuscript Elegy upon the death of Thomas Lord Grey de Wilton, who was one of the supposed conspirators concerned in Raleigh's plot, and died in the Tower, July 6, 1614; when the barony became extinct. There is a dedicatory epistle; but the author does not appear to have determined whom to compliment with presumptive immortality, as it is left uninscribed. Therein the writer says "I knowe the subiect I haue vndertaken farr to transcend my poore abilitie and of that eminence, that the best moderne writer might accounte it worthy his most elaborate action; and to that end haue I hether vnto concealed this longe since conceaued Embrion, trusting that so much honor could not ly buried in obliuion: but seeing my expectation frustrated in that pointe, I haue attempted to doe somewhatt (as exactly as I can) though not so exquisitely as I ought." This epistle is subscribed-" Indefatigably deuoted to your honored seruice, ROBERT MARSTON:" but whether related to the dramatic writer of that name, is uncertain. Then follows "an Elegiacall Poem vpon the euer admired life, and neuer sufficiently deplored death of Thomas Lord Gray, Baron of Wilton, deceased;" which was of no common length, as by the copy, though muti

lated, it appears to have consisted of above 400 lines. Among the best are the following:

Hee that can boast of ancestors a loane,

Doth vainely vaunt, those things are not his owne;
And who deriues his woorth from parent's bloud,
Himselfe being worthless, theires doth him no good:
But hee that through his owne acquired meritt
Doth rather goodnes then theire goods inheritt,
Adds to theire lustre, and though dead doth raise
Volumes of glorie to their foregain'd praise :
Such was this fragrant sence contenting rose,
Vntymely pull'd in Eden to repose:

At twice six yeares as hee began his raigne,
Gray scarsely twelue in person, did regaine
A day nigh lost; not from a troop of boyes
With reeds for launces, or such mimmick toyes;

But from a rebell foe, skilfull in armes,

Flesh'd with whole seas of bloud and Englands harmes,

Bolden'd with certayne trust of victory,

When through the camp they plainely did descry

Hands vpward rear'd to pray, but none to fight,

With busied hearts where best to guid theire flight,
'Till the dread father of this daring sonne,

Thus to the timerous heard.

Here the poet details a victory over the Irish kernes, obtained by the animating speech and courage of the father, seconded by the stripling hero, who, returning to England,

Landed with honor, like the Macedon

Streight his Bucephalus he mounts vpon,

And poasts to learning's cell, for tis oft knowne,
The greatest force yelds to the subtile gowne,

And Mars without Minerva profitts nought,
By graue experience greatest ends are wrought,
The kingdome's Eye (Oxford) long fam'd tofore,
Hath to her glory added this day more

Then erst shee did inioy, by his abode

Armes entered league with Arts; the Book and Sword
Doe mutually opitulate each other

In best designes, as brother helpes another.

Thus faire beginnings certaynly foreshowe

That from their Blossoms fruite doth euer growe
Fully mature in goodness, though not yeares,
Old Stocks ly withered when the young Plants beares
This thrifty knowledge with his valour ioyn'd,
Ingeminates his courage, apts his minde
First to contriue, then lends each agile part
Fit postures to express, that Arms loues Art.
As matter couetts forme, strength is oft found
Inish creatures more than man t' abound,
Yet is theire power left subiect to the will
Of the infirmer, who through reason's skill
Can with a twine manadge a fiery horse,
Vseles till taught, but tameles for his force.

We shall conclude with the following passage, which refers to the patronage of Spenser by Arthur Lord Grey.

O could his father's genius leaue the graue,

And reassume the facultys wee haue,

What surfett of content might hee display

In viewing him, and in him see dead Gray,
Long since inter'd, reuiu'd. For Arthur's sonn
Holds Arthur's spiritt, though his corps bee donn:
And what deuinest Spenser erst foretolde,
Finish'd in him, his eies should cleere beholde.

Where faire discretion, mixt with dauntless heart,
Sownds loud his prowess and proclaymes his art.
Whose infant Muse, succor'd by thy faire wing,
Had leaue to thriue, and thriuing learn'd to sing
With voice propheticke in those ruder parts,
Thyselfe sole patron both of arms and arts.

EU. HOOD.

The Calidonian Forrest. By John Hepwith, Gent. London, printed by E. C. for R. Best, and are to be sold at his shop neere Grayes Inne gate in Holbourne. 1641.

4to. 14 leaves.

THE animals that harbour in the forest are political characters of the day, and the incidents of the poem some of the most conspicuous transactions in the life of the Duke of Buckingham. There is not any article of introductory matter prefixed, and the poem commences with the Duke, who is described as a hart, first obtaining notice of the King, which may serve as a specimen.

The Calidonian Forrest.

Whilome diuided from the maine land stood

A Forrest, in the circle of a flood;

Which was the Calidonian wood eclipt,

And long time there the Lion his court kept,

And gave good lawes, unto each plyant beast,
When bloody broiles and rigid stirres were ceast.
For long had beene the warre and perillous
Betweene the Birds and Hippopotamus,
For the Batavian Fens and Calidon

In the Sea-horse's cause did armes put on
Against the Eagle, for great pitty 'twere
That weaknesse should too much oppression beare.
But letting passe this needlesse talke, Ile tell
What in the Lion's peacefull raigne befell:
He ranged in the Forrest on a day
Only for thirst of pastime, not of pray,
A goodly Hart espies; so faire a creature
Acteon in his metamorphos'd feature

I weene was not, and well he knew by heart
Both gracefull complement and courtly art,
And due obeysance did unto his Grace,
Low lowting with his knees upon the grasse,
The Lion with a blithe and merry looke
His humble subject from the ground up took :
And like a Prince both kind and debonaire,
Him entertained with much language faire-

My friend," quoth he, "thou must attend on me, To live at Court, it best beseemeth thee,

If to thy outward parts suteth thy wit,

Needs must thy service for a King be fit."

The beast then humbly thankt his Majestie,
And speaking with a gracefull modesty,
Thus said: "My Pedegree is meane, not base,
For I was bred and borne of gentle race,

I cannot shew a long continued line,
Nor boast of what I cannot claime for mine,
But for my service, if you please to use it,
Impose what charge you will, I'le not refuse it."