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countrymen had not the same high
opinion of him. His final advance in the
peerage by the title of Earl of Stirling and
Viscount Canada, took place in 1633, and
to these were added, in 1639, the title of
Earl of Dovan. In 1637, under the title
of Recreations with the Muses, he pub-
lished a collected edition of his works, in
which "Jonathan" first appeared, and
from which "Aurora" was excluded.
The death of his eldest son, in 1638,
while he was still in mourning for the
second, seems to have concurred with

other causes to shorten his life, for he
died in London in 1640, at the age of
sixty, with his affairs in a state of insol-
vency.
In 1739-a hundred years after
his death his fourth successor died
without issue, and the title has since
lain dormant, though two unsuccessful
attempts have been made to revive it.

My cabinet should yet these scroles con-
taine,

This childish birth of a conceitie braine,
Which I had still as trifling toyes despis'd :
Pardon those errours of mine unripe age;
My tender Muse by time may grow more

sage.

SONNET.

As yet three lusters were not quite expir'd
Since I had bene a partner of the light,
When I beheld a face, a face more bright
Then glistring Phoebus when the fields are
Long time amaz'd rare beautie Iadmir'd,
fir'd:
The beames reflecting on my captiv'd
sight,

Till that surpriz'd (I wot not by what
flight)

More then I could conceive my soule desir'd,

My taker's state I long'd for to comprise. For still I doubted who had made the rape,

His poetical works have been reprinted in 3 volumes 8vo, at Glasgow, If 't was a bodie or an airie shape, 1870-2. The specimens given are unaltered, except as regards the u's and v's.

SONNET.

Whil'st charming fancies move me to reveale

The idle ravings of my brain-sicke youth,

With fain'd perfections for to mocke the eyes:

At last I knew 't was a most divine
creature,

The crowne of th' Earth, th' excellencie of
Nature.

SONNET.

That subtill Greeke who for t' advance his art,

My heart doth pant within, to heare my Shap'd Beautie's goddesse with so sweet a

mouth

Unfold the follies which it would conceale:
Yet bitter critickes may mistake my mind;
Not beautie, no, but vertue rais'd my fires,
Whose sacred flame did cherish chast
desires,

grace,

Till all the world admir'd the workman's
And with a learned pensill limn'd her face,
part;
such whom Fame did
accomplish'd call

ΟΙ

most

And through my cloudie fortune clearely The naked snowes he severally perceived,

shin'd.

But had not others otherwise advis'd,

'Periods of five years-the age of fifteen.

Then drew th' idea which his soule conceived,

Of that which was most exquisite in all :
But had thy forme his fancie first possest,
If wordly knowledge could so high attaine,
Thou mightst have spar'd the curious
painter's paine,

And satisfide him more then all the rest.
O if he had all thy perfections noted,
The painter with his picture straight had
doted.

SONNET.

I sweare, Aurora, by thy starrie eyes, And by those golden lockes whose locke none slips,

And by the corall of thy rosie lippes, And by the naked snowes which beautie dies,

I sweare by all the jewels of thy mind, Whose like yet never worldly treasure bought,

And if that Phoebus so benigne will be,
That happie happie place,
Whereas that divine face
Did distribute such grace,

By pilgrims once as sacred shall be sought. When she whom I a long time have affected,

Amongst the flowres went forth to take the aire ;

They being proud of such a guest's repaire, Though by her garments divers times dejected,

To gaize on her againe themselves erected; Then softly seem'd to say: "O happie we this day; Our worthlesse dew it may, Washing her feete, with nectar now compare."

The roses did the rosie hue envy

Of those sweet lips that did the bees deceave,

That colour oft the lilies wish'd to have, Which did the alabaster pillar dye,

Thy solide judgement and thy generous On which all beautie's glorie did rely; thought, Her breath so sweetly smell'd,

Which in this darkened age have clearly The violets, as excell'd,

shin'd:

To looke downe were compell'd;

I sweare by those, and by my spotlesse And so confest what foile they did receave. love,

And by my secret, yet most fervent fires, That I have never nurc'd but chast desires, And such as modestie might well approve. Then since I love those vertuous parts in thee,

I heard at lest, love made it so appeare, The fethered flockes her praises did pro

claime :

She whom the tyrant Tereus put to shame, Did leave sad plaints, and learn'd to praise my deare:

Shouldst thou not love this vertuous mind | To joyne with her sweet breath the winds in me?

SONG.

O memorable day, that chanc'd to see A world of loving wonders strangely wrought.

Deepe in my brest, engrav'd by many a thought,

Thou shalt be celebrated still by me :

drew neare;

They were in love no doubt,
For circling her about,
Their fancies bursted out,
Whilst all their sounds seem'd but to
sound her name.

There I mine eyes with pleasant sights did cloy,

Whose severall parts in vaine I strive t unfold;

My faire was fairer many a thousand fold Then Venus, when she woo'd the bashfull boy :

Who would leave off to thinke,

To move, to breathe, or winke, But never irke to drinke

This I remember both with griefe and joy, The sugred liquor that transports my

Each of her lookes a dart,

Might well have kill'd a hart;

sprites?

Mine from my breast did part,

And thence retir'd it to a sweeter hold.

SONNET.

Whilst in her bosome whiles she plac'd a My fairest faire, advise thee with thy

flowre,

Straight of the same I envy would the case,

And wish'd my hand a flowre t' have found like grace;

heart,

And tell in time if that thou think'st to love me,

Lest that I perish whil'st thou think'st to prove me,

Then when on her it rain'd some hapning And so thou want the meanes to act thy

howre,

I wish'd like love t' have falne down in a showre:

But when the flowres she spred,

To make her selfe a bed,

And with her gowne them cled,

A thousand times I wish'd t' have had their place.

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part :

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Which, being fir'd by Phoebus' rayes,

she fals into the flame:

As birds flie but in th' aire, fishes in seas do dive,

onely live :

So by two sunnie eyes I give my fancies So sorrow is as th' element by which I fire, And burne my selfe with beauties raies, Yet this may be admir'd as more then even by mine owne desire.

strange in me,

Thus th' angry gods at length begin for to Although in all my horoscope not one relent, cleare point I see. And once to end my deathfull life, for Against my knowledge, yet I many a time rebell,

pitie are content.

For if th' infernall powers, the damned And seeke to gather grounds of hope, a souls would pine, Heav'n amidst a Hell. Then let them send them to the light, to O poyson of the mind, that doest the wits leade a life like mine. bereave:

O if I could recount the crosses and the And shrouded with a cloke of love dost al cares, the world deceive,

That from my cradle to my beire conduct Thou art the rock on which my comforts' me with despairs ; ship did dash,

Then hungrie Tantalus please'd with his It's thou that daily in my wounds thy lot would stand: hooked heades dost wash.

I famish for a sweeter food, which still is Blind tyrant, it is thou by whom my hopes reft my hand, lye dead:

Like Ixion's restlesse wheele my fancies That whiles throwes forth a dart of gold, and whiles a lump of lead.

rowle about;

And like his guest that stole Heav'n's

fires, they teare my bowels out.

Thus oft thou woundest two, but in two different states,

I worke an endless task and loose my Which through a strange antipathy, th' labour still:

one loves, and th' other hates.

Even as the bloudie sisters do, that O but I erre I grant, I should not thee emptie as they fill,

upbraid,

As Sisiph's stone returnes his guiltie It's I to passion's tyrrannie that have my ghost t'appall,

selfe betraid:

I ever raise my hopes so high, they bruise And yet this cannot be, my judgements me with their fall.

aymes amisse:

And if I could in summe my severall Ah, deare, Aurora, it is thou that ruin'd griefes relate,

All would forget their proper harms, and only waile my state.

hast my blisse:

A fault that by thy sexe may partly be excus'd,

So grievous is my paine, so painfull is my Which stil doth loath what profer'd is, griefe, affects what is refus'd. That death, which does the world affright, Whilst my distracted thoughts I striv'd for wold yield to me releefe. to controule,

I have mishaps so long, as in a habit And with fain'd gestures did disguise the had,

anguish of my soule,

I thinke I looke not like my selfe, but Then with inviting lookes and accents when that I am sad.

stampt with love,

The mask that was upon my mind thou Then why shouldst thou such spite for my labordst to remove. goodwill returne? And when that once ensnar'd thou in those Was ever god as yet so mad to make his

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And liberally at last enlarge the raines It's but through my mis-lucke, if any fault unto my rage. there be; I'le tell what we were once, our chast For she who was of nature mild, was cruell (yet fervent) loves, made by me.

Whilst in effect thou seem'd t' affect that And since my fortune is, in wo to be bewhich you didst disprove.

Whilst once t' engrave thy name upon a

rock I sat,

Thou vow'd to write mine in a mind,

more firme by far then that;

The marble stone once stampt retaines that name of thine :

wrapt,

I'le honour her as oft before, and hate mine owne mishap.

Her rigorous course shall serve my loyall part to prove,

And as a touch-stone for to trie the vertue of my love.

But ah, thy more then marble mind, it Which when her beautie fades, shall be as did not so with mine;

cleare as now,

So that which thral'd me first, shall set My constancie it shall be known, when me free againe ;

Those flames to which thy love gave life,

shall die with thy disdaine.

wrinkled is her brow:

So that such two againe, shall in no age be found,

But ah, where am I now, how is my She for her face, I for my faith, both judgement lost!

I speak as it were in my power, like one

that's free to bost:

Have I not sold my selfe to be thy beautie's slave?

And when thou tak'st all hope from me, thou tak'st but what thou gave.

That former love of thine, did so possesse my mind,

That for to harbor other thoughts, no

worthy to be crown'd.

A PARÆNESIS TO PRINCE

HENRY.

[Extract.]

I.

Ah, be not those most miserable soules, Their judgements to refine who never strive !

And th' only means by which I mind t' Nor will not looke upon the learned

roome remains behind,

avenge this wrong,

It is, by making of thy praise the burden Which without practice doe experience

of my song.

scroules,

give;

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