Man, who men did first begin
Formed first of Nilus mire.*

Whence of Artes the eldest kindes,
Earth's most heavenly ornament,
Were, as from their fountaine, sent
To enlight our misty mindes:
Whose grose sprite, from endles time,
As in darkned prison pente,
Never did to knowledge clime.

Where the Nile, our father good,
Father-like, doth never misse
Yearely us to bring such food
As to life required is :

Visiting each yeare this plaine,
And with fat slime cov'ring it,
Which his seaven mouthes do spit,
As the season comes againe ;
Making therby greatest growe
Busie reapers joyfull paine,
When his flouds do highest flow.

Wandring Prince of Rivers, thou!
Honour of the Æthiops lande:
Of a lord and maister now,
Thou, a slave, in awe must stand
Now of Tiber, which is spred
Lesse in force, and lesse in fame:
Reverence thou must the name
Whome all other rivers dread
For his children, swolne in pride,
Who by conquest seeke to treade

Round this earth on every side.

There is much more of this ode; but I quit it, to

* In consonance with the Ovidian phantasy relating to Deucalion and Pyrrha.

exhibit brief specimens of two others, composed in dif

ferent metre.

Alas! with what tormenting fire
Us martireth, this blind desire

To stay our life from flying:
How ceasleslie our minds doth rack,
How heavie lies upon our back

This dastard feare of dying!

Death, rather healthfull succour gives,
Death, rather all mishapps relieves
That life upon us throweth :
And ever to us, Death, unclose
The dore whereby from curelesse woes
Our weary soule outgoeth.

Hope, which to us doth comfort give,
And doth our fainting hearts revive,
Hath not such force in anguish :

For, promising a vaine reliefe,
She oft us failes, in midst of griefe,
And helpless lets us languish.

But Death, who calls on her at neede,
Doth never with vain semblant feed,
But when them sorrow paineth:
So riddes their soules of all distresse,
Whose heavie weight did them oppresse,
That not one griefe remaineth.

The following is part of a chorus of Roman soldiers.

Shall ever* civile batet

Gnaw and devour our state?

For ever' is understood.

+ Debate, strife.

Shall never we this blade,

Our bloud hath bloudy made,
Lay downe? these armes downe lay,
As robes we weare alway?
But as from age to age,
So passe from rage to rage?

Our hands shall we not rest

To bath in our owne brest?
And shall thick in each land
Our wretched trophees stand;
To tell posteritie

What madd impietie

Our stonie stomacks led
Against the place us bred?

I hope the cause of jarre,
And of this bloudy warre,
And deadly discord gone,
By what we last have done.
Our banks shall cherish now
The branchie pale-hew'd bow*
Of olive, Pallas' praise,
Instede of barraine baies.

And that his temple-dore,
Which bloudy Mars before
Held open, now at last
Olde Janus shall make fast;

And rust the sword consume,

And, spoil'd of waving plume,

The useless morion shall

On crooke hang by the wall.

Bough.

Olde Memory doth there,

Painted on forehead, weare

Our father's praise: thence torne,
Our triumphs baies have worne.
Therby our matchles Rome,
Whilome of shepheards come,
Rais'd to this greatnes stands,
The Queene of forraine lands.

Which now even seemes to face
The heav'ns, her glories place;
Nought resting under skies
That dares affront her eies:
So that she needes but feare
The weapons Jove doth beare,
Who, angry, at one blowe

May her quite overthrowe.

The dramatic dialogue is a singular intermixture of rhyming couplets and blank verse, and in general shows great facility, with skill of versification; evincing the very high accomplishments of "Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother," as Ben Jonson apostrophised her Ladyship, in his most graceful of poetical Epitaphs. For biographical notices of the Countess of Pembroke, see Lord Orford's Noble Authors, last edition.

Whimzies: or a new Cast of Characters.

Nova, non nota delectant.

London, printed by F. K. and are to be sold by Ambrose Rithirdon, at the signe of the Bulls-head in Pauls Church-yard, 1631.

12mo, pp. 234.

I Do not recollect any mention of this scarce little volume except in a casual way by Mr. Waldron; who introduced the title for the purpose of illustration in his "Free Reflections on miscellaneous Papers and legal Instruments, under the hand and seal of William Shakspeare, in the possession of Samuel Ireland." This, work is inscribed by "Clitus-Alexandrinus to his muchhonored friend, Sir Alexander Radcliffe," in a strain. of high panegyric and apologetical elucidation.

:

"Many Characters, I confesse, [says the Dedication] have beene published both in former times, when the ignorance of the age could scarcely render the ambiguitie of the word as likewise, in these more refined times of ours; wherein, as in habit and attyre, so in discourse of this nature, nothing but rarities (bee they never so light) can afford delight. But, to give them their true and native character, they relished more of Aphorisme than Character. For, to suite them with their approvedst and retentivest title, what else are Characters, but stampes or impressures; noting such an especiall place, person, or office: and leaving such marke or cognizance upon it, as the conceit may