A. D. 1552-1618. SIR WALTER RALEIGH. But fading flowers in every field, Thy gown, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy belt of straw, and ivy-buds, But could Youth last, could Love still breed; 81 THE SOUL'S ERRAND. This beautiful poem appeared anonymously in "Davison's Poetical Rhapsody,” in 1608. It has been ascribed to Sir Walter Raleigh by many able critics. Go, Soul, the Body's guest, Upon a thankless errand; Fear not to touch the best; The truth shall be thy warrant. Go, since I needs must die, And give them all the lie. Go, tell the Court it glows, And shines like painted wood; Go, tell the Church it shows If Court and Church reply, Tell Potentates, they live Acting, but oh! their actions Not loved, unless they give; Nor strong, but by their factions. If Potentates reply, Give Potentates the lie. Tell men of high condition, That rule affairs of state, 6 Their purpose is ambition; Tell those that brave it most, They beg for more by spending, Who, in their greatest cost, Seek nothing but commending. Tell Zeal it lacks devotion; Tell Age it daily wasteth; Tell Honor how it alters; Tell Beauty that it blasteth; Tell Favor that she falters: And as they do reply, Give every one the lie. Tell Wit how much it wrangles Herself in over-wiseness: Then give them both the lie. Tell Physic of her boldness; Tell Charity of coldness; Tell Law it is contention: And if they yield reply, Then give them still the lie. Tell Fortune of her blindness; Tell Friendship of unkindness; Tell Justice of delay : And if they do reply, Then give them all the lie. Tell Arts they have no soundness, But vary by esteeming; Tell Schools they lack profoundness, Tell Faith it's fled the city; Tell how the Country erreth; So, when thou hast, as I Commanded thee, done blabbing; Deserves no less than stabbing; Yet stab at thee who will, No stab the Soul can kill. 46. Samuel DANIEL. 1562-1619. (Manual, p. 80.) RICHARD II. ON THE MORNING BEFORE HIS MURDER. From the Third Book of the Civil Wars. The morning of that day which was his last Out at a little grate his eyes he cast Upon those bordering hills and open plain, Where others' liberty makes him complain The more his own, and grieves his soul the more, 1 O happy man, saith he, that lo I see, Other than what he is he would not be, Nor change his state with him that sceptre wields. To rest secure, and not rise up to grieve. Thou sitt'st at home safe by thy quiet fire, 1 Comparing. Perhaps thou talk'st of me, and dost inquire For pity must have part-envy not all. Thrice happy you that look as from the shore, No interest, no occasion to deplore Other men's travels, while yourselves sit free. To see our misery and what we be : Whose blinded greatness, ever in turmoil, Still seeking happy life, makes life a toil. MICHAEL DRAYTON. 1563-1631. (Manual, pp. 80, 81.) From the Nymphidia. 47. PIGWIGGEN ARMING. And quickly arms him for the field, And puts him on a coat of mail, That when his foe should him assail, His rapier was a hornet's sting, It was a very dangerous thing; For if he chanc'd to hurt the king, His helmet was a beetle's head, And turn his weapon from him. Himself he on an earwig set, Yet scarce he on his back could get, Ere he himself could settle: He made him turn, and stop, and bound, 48. FROM THE POLY-OLBION. SONG XIII. When Phoebus lifts his head out of the winter's wave, 49. SIR JOHN DAVIES. 1570-1626. (Manual, p. 81.) FROM THE NOSCE TEIPSUM. As spiders, touch'd, seek their web's inmost part; As men seek towns when foes the country burn: If aught can teach us aught, affliction's looks She within lists my ranging mind hath brought, |