A sad Song. EEP no more nor sigh nor groan; violets plucked the sweetest rain makes not fresh nor grow again. fate's hid ends eyes cannot see: A Perfect Woman. J. FLETCHER. HIS morning timely rapt with holy fire I thought to form unto my zealous Muse what kind of creature I could most desire to honour, serve, and love, as poets use. I meant the day-star should not brighter rise, nor lend like influence from his lucent seat; I meant each softest virtue there should meet, fit in that softer bosom to reside. only a learned and a manly soul I purposed her, that should with even powers the rock, the spindle, and the shears control of Destiny, and spin her own free hours; such when I meant to feign, and wished to see, my muse bade Bedford write, and that was she. A Sweeping Charge. B. JONSON. EN have many faults, women only two: nothing right they say, nothing right they do. A. Parcendum lacrimis. ITTE procul lacrimas, gemitus, suspiria mitte; praeteritos revocat lacrima nulla dies; nec violis semel excerptis dulcissimus imber aut vitam aut venerem, quae fuit ante, refert. fac niteant crines, vultus assume serenos, mortales oculos abdita fata latent. gaudia diffuginut rapidis, ut somnia, pennis; qui velit aerumnas tardius ire, quis est? vulnera pectoribus fletus lugentibus addit: parce igitur lacrimis, lux mea, parce tuis. Γενναία γυνή. E. B. M. ATUTINUS ego et iam prima luce iubebam fingere cui servirem, et quam me vate fidelis cultus et aeternus prosequeretur honos. luciferum, dixi, ne surgere pulchrius astrum blandius aut possit spargere sede iubar: adsit in hac virtus mollissima quaeque puella, pectore quas sancto mollior ipsa colat. at fortem, dixi, doctamque huic insere mentem, quae sibi confidens ipsa suique potens forcipibusque suis semper fusisque fruatur, temperet et fati libera fila sui. talem ego cum cuperem nec posse videre putarem, Musa mihi: 'pones Eucharin': ipsa fuit. Multum in Parvo. G. J. K. IR premitur vitiis centenis: non nisi binis femina: nil loquitur, nil facit illa boni. K. HAVE a boy, The Page. sent by the gods, I hope, to this intent, not yet seen in the court. hunting the buck, I found him sitting by a fountain's side, of which he borrowed some to quench his thirst, and paid the nymph again as much in tears. a garland lay him by, made by himself, of many several flowers, bred in the bay, stuck in that mystic order, that the rareness delighted me: but ever when he turned his tender eyes upon 'em, he would weep, as if he meant to make 'em grow again. seeing such pretty helpless innocence dwell in his face, I asked him all his story. he told me that his parents gentle died, leaving him to the mercy of the fields, which gave him roots: and of the crystal springs, which did not stop their courses; and the sun, which still, he thanked him, yielded him his light. then took he up his garland, and did shew what every flower, as country people hold, did signify; and how all, ordered thus, expressed his grief; and, to my thoughts, did read the prettiest lecture of his country art that could be wished: so that, methought, I could have studied it. I gladly entertained O formose Puer. Παῖς ἔστι μοί τις, ὃς τόδ ̓ ἐκπράξων χρέος θεόσδοτος πέφηνεν, ὡς ἐλπίς μ' ἔχει, οὔπω μελάθρων βασιλικῶν ἐπίστροφος. εὗρον δ ̓ ἐγώ νιν, ἐς ἐλάφου θήραν τών, κρήνης παρὰ ῥείθροισιν, ὧν ἤντλει ποτόν, δίψης ἄκεσμα· καὖθις ἀντημείβετο ὀφθαλμοτέγκτω τὴν θεὰν πλημμυρίδι. τούτου δ' ἔκειτο στέφανος εὐώδης πέλας, ὃν ποικίλοισι τῶν ἐκεῖ τεθηλύτων ὕφηνεν αὐτὸς ἀνθέων βλαστήμασιν. οὕτω δ ̓ ἐν ἐκπάγλοισιν ἠσκήθη τρόποις, ὥστ ̓ εἰσιδὼν ἐθαύμασ ̓ εὐφράνθην δ' ὅμως. ὁπότε δ ̓ ἐπ' αὐτοῖς ὀμμάτων στρέφοι κύκλους, ἐνταῦθα δὴ δάκρυεν, ώσπερεὶ θέλων νέας ἐγείρειν ἀνθέμων βλάστας πάλιν. κάγωγ' αναύδοις ἐννοῶν ἐν ὄμμασιν οὐ δυστόπαστον νηπίας φρενὸς τέκμαρ, ἀνιστόρησα τοῦ πάρος βίου τύχας. ὁ δ ̓ αὖτ ̓ ἔλεξεν εὐγενεῖς θανεῖν γονεῖς λιπόντας αὑτὸν ὀρφάνευμ' ἀγροῖς, παρ ̓ ὧν ῥίζας δέχοιτο, ταῖς τε κρηναίαις θεαῖς, αἳ ναμάτων οὐ σχοῖεν εὔποτον ρέος, Φοίβῳ θ', ὅτῳ φῶς λαμπρὸν ἡμέρας ἔφη ἀεὶ φέροντι μυρίαν ἔχειν χάριν. κανταῦθ ̓ ἐπαίρων στέμμα, πάντα τἀνθέων, ὡς ταῦτ ̓ ἀγροίκοις ἀνδράσιν νομίζεται, ἔδειξε σύμβολ', ἠδ ̓ ὅπως τούτῳ τρόπῳ πλεχθένθ ̓ ἑαυτοῦ λυπρὰ σημαίνοι πάθη. δοκεῖν δ' ἔμοιγε, ῥημάτων σοφίσματα κάλλιστ' ἔλεξε μυστικῆς τέχνης πέρι, ἥδιστον ἀκρόαμ”· εἶτ ̓ ἐφιέμην ἐγὼ ταύτης ἅπαντα μανθάνειν εὑρήματα ἑκών θ' ἑκόντα τονδ' ἐδεξάμην τρόχιν. him who was glad to follow: and have got J. FLETCHER. Funeral Honours. THINK not that with garlands crowned o think not, brave departed soul, BLAND (from the Greek). Divination by a Daffodil. HEN a Daffodil I see hanging down his head towards me, guess I may what I must be: first, I shall decline my head; secondly, I shall be dead; HERRICK. |