From SHAKESPEARE and FLET-
CHER'S The Two Noble
Kinsmen, 1634.

A BRIDAL SONG.'

ROSES, their sharp spines being gone,

Not royal in their smells alone,

But in their hue;

Maiden pinks, of odour faint,
Daisies smell-less, yet most quaint,
And sweet thyme true;

Primrose, firstborn child of Ver,
Merry springtime's harbinger,
With her bells dim;

Oxlips in their cradles growing,
Marigolds on deathbeds blowing,
Larks'-heels trim.

All dear Nature's children sweet,
Lie 'fore bride and bridegroom's feet,

Blessing their sense!

Not an angel of the air,

Bird melodious, or bird fair,

Be absent hence!

The crow, the slanderous cuckoo, nor

The boding raven, nor chough hoar,3
Nor chattering pie,

May on our bride-house perch or sing,

Or with them any discord bring,

But from it fly!

1 I have given the song tentatively to Fletcher; but I have a

strong suspicion that it is by Shakespeare.

་

With harebell slim."

Old eds. "clough

2 Mr. W. J. Linton proposes 3. 11 'Chough hoar" is Seward's correction. hee" (and "he").

URNS AND ODOURS BRING AWAY!

RNS and odours bring away!

URNS

Vapours, sighs, darken the day!

Our dole1 more deadly looks than dying;
Balms, and gums, and heavy cheers,
Sacred vials filled with tears,

And clamours through the wild air flying!

Come, all sad and solemn shows,
That are quick-eyed Pleasure's foes!

We convent nought else but woes.

From King Henry VIII., 1623.

THE POWER OF MUSIC.

RPHEUS with his lute made trees,

OF

And the mountain-tops that freeze,
Bow themselves when he did sing :
To his music plants and flowers
Ever sprung; as sun and showers

There had made a lasting spring.

Everything that heard him play,
Even the billows of the sea,

Hung their heads, and then lay by.

In sweet music is such art,
Killing care and grief of heart
Fall asleep, or, hearing, die.

1 Sorrow.

CALL

From JOHN WEBSTER'S The
White Devil, 1612.

A DIRGE.

ALL for the robin-redbreast and the wren,
Since o'er shady groves they hover,

And with leaves and flowers do cover
The friendless bodies of unburied men.
Call unto his funeral dole

The ant, the field-mouse, and the mole,

To rear him hillocks that shall keep him warm,
And (when gay tombs are robbed) sustain no harm ;
But keep the wolf far thence, that's foe to men,
For with his nails he'll dig them up again.

From JOHN WEBSTER'S The
Duchess of Malfi, 1623.

HARK, NOW EVERYTHING IS STILL.

HARK, now everything is still,

The screech-owl and the whistler shrill,

Call upon our dame aloud,

And bid her quickly don her shroud!
Much you had of land and rent;

Your length in clay's now competent :
A long war disturbed your mind;

Here your perfect peace is signed.

Of what is't fools make such vain keeping?
Sin their conception, their birth weeping,

Their life a general mist of error,

Their death a hideous storm of terror.
Strew your hair with powders sweet,
Don clean linen, bathe your feet,
And (the foul fiend more to check)
A crucifix let bless your neck :

'Tis now full tide 'tween night and day;
End your groan, and come away.

A

From JOHN WEBSTER'S The
Devil's Law-Case, 1623.

VANITAS VANITATUM.

LL the flowers of the spring
Meet to perfume our burying ;
These have but their growing prime,
And man does flourish but his time:
Survey our progress from our birth;
We are set, we grow, we turn to earth.
Courts adieu, and all delights,
All bewitching appetites !

Sweetest breath and clearest eye,
Like perfumes, go out and die ;
And consequently this is done
As shadows wait upon the sun.
Vain the ambition of kings

Who seek by trophies and dead things
To leave a living name behind,

And weave but nets to catch the wind.

From JOHN FORD'S The Lover's
Melancholy, 1629.

FLY HENCE, SHADOWS!

LY hence, shadows, that do keep

FLY

Watchful sorrows charmed in sleep!

Tho' the eyes be overtaken,

Yet the heart doth ever waken

Thoughts, chained up in busy snares

Of continual woes and cares :
Love and griefs are so exprest
As they rather sigh than rest.
Fly hence, shadows, that do keep
Watchful sorrows charmed in sleep!

From JOHN FORD'S The Broken
Heart, 1633.

A BRIDAL SONG.

OMFORTS lasting, loves increasing,
Like soft hours never ceasing;

Plenty's pleasure, peace complying,
Without jars, or tongues envỳing ;
Hearts by holy union wedded,
More than theirs by custom bedded;
Fruitful issues; life so graced,
Not by age to be defaced;

Budding as the year ensu❜th,

Every spring another youth :
All what thought can add beside,

Crown this Bridegroom and this Bride!