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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 published 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 insolvency. 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,
The beames reflecting on my captiv'd
sight,

fir'd:

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.

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.

Whil'st charming fancies move me to reveale

The idle ravings of my brain-sicke youth,

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,

And with a learned pensill limn'd her face, Till all the world admir'd the workman's part;

Of such whom Fame did most accomplish'd call

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 con

ceived,

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 looks owne 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 proclaime :

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;

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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,

part :

For I account my selfe so done accurst, That from despaire's refuge I scarce refraine.

The daintest colours do the soonest staine,

A thousand times I wish'd t' have had And the most noble minds do soonest

their place.

Thus whilst that senselesse things that blisse attain'd,

Which unto me good justice would adjudge,

Behind a little bush (O poore refuge),

Fed with her face, I lizard-like remain'd: Then from her eyes so sweet a poison rain'd,

That gladly drinking death,

I was not mov'd to wrath,
Though like t' have lost my breath,
Drowne'd with the streames of that most
sweet deluge.

And might that happinesse coutinue still, Which did content me with so pleasant sights,

burst.

Why shouldst thou thus thy rarest

treasure venter ?

Lo, all the waightie thoughts, the burd'nous cares,

And every horror that the health impaires, Draw to the heart, as to the bodie's center: And it ore-ballanc'd with so great a waight, Doth boast to yeeld unto the burthen straight.

ELEGIE.

Even as the dying swan almost bereft of breath,

Sounds dolefull notes and drearie songs,

a presage of her death:

So since my date of life almost expir'd ! find,

My soule then ravish'd with most rare My obsequies I sadly sing, as sorrow

delights,

With ambrosie and nectar I might fill: Which ah, I feare, I surfeiting would kill.

tunes my mind,

And as the rarest bird a pile of wood doth

frame,

Which, being fir'd by Phoebus' rayes,

she fals into the flame:

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

So by two sunnie eyes I give my fancies So sorrow is as th' element by which I fire, onely live : 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

pitie are content.

For if th' infernall powers, the damned

souls would pine,

rebell,

And seeke to gather grounds of hope, a
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' ship did dash,

me with despairs;

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:

rowle about;

Like Ixion's restlesse wheele my fancies That whiles throwes forth a dart of gold, and whiles a lump of lead. Thus oft thou woundest two, but in two different states,

And like his guest that stole Heav'n's

fires, they teare my bowels out.

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

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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, hast my blisse : All would forget their proper harms, and A fault that by thy sexe may partly be only waile my state. 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 nets me spide,

Thy smiles were shadow'd with disdaines, thy beauties cloth'd with pride.

temple burne?

My breast the temple was, whence incense thou receiv'd,

To reattaine thy grace I wot not how to And yet thou set'st the same a fire, which go:

Shall I once fold before thy feete, to pleade for favour so?

No, no, I'le proudly go my wrath for to asswage,

others would have sav'd.

But why should I accuse Aurora in this wise?

She is as faultlesse as she's faire, as innocent as wise.

And liberally at last enlarge the raines It's but through my mis-lucke, if

there be;

any fault

unto my rage. I'le tell what we were once, our chast❘ For she who was of nature mild, was cruell

(yet fervent) loves, Whilst in effect thou seem'd t' affect that

which 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 :

made by me.

And since my fortune is, in wo to be be

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 ;

wrinkled is her brow:

Those flames to which thy love gave life, So that such two againe, shall in no age shall die with thy disdaine. 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

roome remains behind,

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

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