e. for stopping, and apprehending him at his father's.

Whereby she seized was,

And then to Ludlow sent,

Where she was judg'd, condemn'd, and hang'd,

For murder incontinent.

VOL. II

U

170

These beautiful stanzas were written by George Wither, of whom some account was given in the First Volume: see the song entitled, The Shepherd's Resolution, book v. song xxi. In the first edition of this work, only a small fragment of this sonnet was inserted. It was afterwards rendered more complete and entire by the addition of five stanzas more, extracted from Wither's pastoral poem, entitled, The Mistress of Philarete, of which this song makes a part. It is now given still more correct and perfect by comparing it with another copy, printed by the author in his improved edition of The Shepherd's Hunting, 1620, 8vo.

HENCE away, thou Syren, leave me!

Pish unclaspe these wanton armes ;
Sugred words can ne'er deceive me,
(Though they prove a thousand charmes).
Fie, fie, forbeare;

No common snare

Can ever my affection chaine;

Thy painted baits,

And poore deceits,

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Are all bestowed on me in vaine.

I'me no slave to such as you be;

Neither shall that snowy brest,

Rowling eye, and lip of ruby
Ever robb me of my rest!
Goe, goe, display
Thy beautie's ray

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15

To some more soone-enamour'd swaine;

Those common wiles

Of sighs and smiles

Are all bestowed on me in vaine.

I have elsewhere vowed a dutie;
Turne away thy tempting eye;
Shew not me a painted beautie;
These impostures I defie.
My spirit lothes

Where gawdy clothes

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25

And fained othes may love obtaine;
I love her so

Whose looke sweares No,

That all your labours will be vaine.

30

Which on every brest are worne;

Can he prize the tainted posies,

That may plucke the virgin roses
From their never-touched thorne?
I can goe rest

On her sweet brest,

That is the pride of Cynthia's traine;
Then stay thy tongue;

Thy mermaid song

Is all bestowed on me in vaine,

Hee's a foole that basely dallies,

Where each peasant mates with him;

Shall I haunt the thronged vallies,
Whilst ther's noble hils to climbe?
No, no, though clownes
Are scar'd with frownes,

I know the best can but disdaine;
And those Ile prove,

So will thy love

Be all bestowed on me in vaine.

35

40

45

50

The Spanish Virgin, or Effects of Jealousy.

The subject of this ballad is taken from a folio collection of tragica. stories, entitled, "The theatre of God's judgments, by Dr. Beard and Dr. Taylor, 1642." Pt. ii. p. 89.-The text is given (with corrections, from two copies; one of them in black-letter in the Pepys collection. In this every stanza is accompanied with the following distich by way

of burden:

"Oh jealousie! thou art nurst in hell:
Depart from hence, and therein dwell."

ALL tender hearts, that ake to hear
Of those that suffer wrong;
All you that never shed a tear,
Give heed unto my song.

Fair Isabella's tragedy

My tale doth far exceed :

Alas, that so much cruelty

In female hearts should breed!

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