124

MARLOWE. — RALEIGH.

CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. 1565-1593.

Who ever loved that loved not at first sight? *
Hero and Leander

Come live with me, and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, and hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountains, yield.

The Passionate Shepherd to his Love.
Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships,
And burnt the topmast towers of Ilium?
Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.
Her lips suck forth my soul! see where it flies.

Faustus.

SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 1552-1618. If all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee, and be thy love.

The Nymph's Reply to the Passionate Shepherd.

Silence in love bewrays more woe
Than words, though ne'er so witty;

A beggar that is dumb, you know,
May challenge double pity.

The Silent Lover.

Methought I saw the grave where Laura lay.

Verses to Edmund Spenser.

* Quoted by Shakspeare.

As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 5.

SYLVESTER.- BARNFIELD. - GREVILLE. 125

JOSHUA SYLVESTER. 1563-1618.

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 the world the lie.

The Soul's Errand.*

RICHARD BARNEIELD. [Born circa 1570.)

As it fell upon a day,

In the merry month of May,

Sitting in a pleasant shade

Which a grove of myrtles made.

Address to the Nightingale.†

FULKE GREVILLE, LORD BROOKE. 1554-1628.

O wearisome condition of humanity!

And out of mind as soon as out of sight. ‡

Sonnet lvi.

Sylvester is now generally regarded as the author of

"The Soul's Errand," long attributed to Raleigh.

This song, often attributed to Shakspeare, is now confidently assigned to Barnfield; it is found in his collection of Poems in Divers Humours, published in 1598.

And when he is out of sight quickly also is he out of mind.
Kempis. Imitation of Christ. B. i. Ch. 23.

SIR HENRY WOTTON. 1568-1639.

How happy is he born or taught,
That serveth not another's will;
Whose armor is his honest thought,
And simple truth his utmost skill!

The Character of a Happy Life,
Lord of himself, though not of lands;
And having nothing, yet hath all.

You meaner beauties of the night,
That poorly satisfy our eyes

More by your number than your light!

Ibid.

To his Mistress, the Queen of Bohemia.

I am but a gatherer and disposer of other men's Preface to the Elements of Architecture.*

stuff.

DR. JOHN DONNE. 1573-1631.

We understood

Her by her sight; her pure and eloquent blood Spoke in her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought, That one might almost say her body thought. Funeral Elegies on the Progress of the Soul.

She and comparisons are odious.†

Reliquiae Wottoniana.

Elegy 8. The Comparison.

† Cf. Burton, Anatomy of Melancholy, Pt. iii. Sc. 3, Mem:

1, Subs. 2.

BEN JONSON. 1574-1637.

Drink to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And I'll not look for wine.*

The Forest. To Celia.

Still to be neat, still to be drest
As you were going to a feast.

The Silent Women. Act i. Sc. 6.

Give me a look, give me a face,
That makes simplicity a grace.
Robes loosely flowing, hair as free;
Such sweet neglect more taketh me,
Than all th' adulteries of art;

They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.

Ibid.

In small proportion we just beauties see,
And in short measures life may perfect be.
Good Life, Long Life.

Underneath this stone doth lie
As much beauty as could die;
Which in life did harbor give
To more virtue than doth live.

Epitaph on Elizabeth.

Εἰ δὲ βού

* Ἐμοὶ δὲ μόνοις πρόπινε τοῖς ὄμμασιν.

λει, τοῖς χείλεσι προσφέρουσα, πλήρου φιλημάτων τὸ ἔκπωμα.

καὶ οὕτως δίδου.

PHILOSTRATUS. Letter xxiv.

Underneath this sable hearse
Lies the subject of all verse,
Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother.
Death! ere thou hast slain another,
Learn'd and fair and good as she,
Time shall throw a dart at thee.

Epitaph on the Countess of Pembroke.
Soul of the age!

The applause! delight! the wonder of our stage!
My Shakspeare rise! I will not lodge thee by
Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie

A little further, to make thee a room.

*

To the Memory of Shakspeare.

Small Latin, and less Greek.

Ibid.

He was not of an age, but for all time.

Ibid.

Sweet swan of Avon!

Ibid.

Get money; still get money, boy;

No matter by what means.†

Every Man in his Humor. Act ii. Sc. 3.

*Cf. Basse, p. 160.

† Get place and wealth, if possible, with grace;
If not, by any means get wealth and place.

Pope. Horace, Ep. i. Book 1.