SIR JOHN SUCKLING. 1609–1641. Her feet beneath her petticoat

Like little mice stole in and out,1

As if they feared the light;
But O, she dances such a way!
No sun upon an Easter-day

Is half so fine a sight.

Ballad upon a Wedding.

Her lips were red, and one was thin,
Compared with that was next her chin;
Some bee had stung it newly.

Why so pale and wan, fond lover?

Prithee, why so pale?

Ibid.

Will, when looking well can't move her,
Looking ill prevail?

Prithee, why so pale?

'T is expectation makes a blessing dear;

Song.

Heaven were not heaven, if we knew what it were.

Against Fruition.

She is pretty to walk with,

And witty to talk with,

And pleasant, too, to think on.

Brennoralt. Act ii.

Her face is like the milky way i' the sky,
A meeting of gentle lights without a name.

Ibid. Act iii.

The prince of darkness is a gentleman.2

The Goblins.

1 Her pretty feet, like snails, did creep

A little out.

Herrick, On Her Feet.

2 See Shakespeare, King Lear, Act iii. Sc. 4.

ROBERT HERRICK. 1591 – 1674.

Some asked me where the Rubies grew,

And nothing I did say ;

But with my finger pointed to

The lips of Julia.

The Rock of Rubies, and the Quarrie of Pearls.

Some asked how Pearls did grow, and where? Then spoke I to my Girl,

To part her lips, and showed them there

The quarelets of Pearl.

Her pretty feet, like snails, did creep

A little out, and then,'

As if they played at bo-peep,

Did soon draw in again.

Ibid.

On Her Feet.

Gather ye rose-buds while ye may,

Old Time is still a-flying,

And this same flower, that smiles to-day,
To-morrow will be dying."

To the Virgins to make much of Time.

Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee,

The shooting-stars attend thee;

And the elves also,

Whose little eyes glow

Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee.

1 Compare Suckling, p. 166.

Night Piece to Julia.

2 Let us crown ourselves with rose-buds, before they be withered. Wisdom of Solomon, ii. 8.

Cherry ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry,
Full and fair ones, come and buy;
If so be you ask me where

They do grow, I answer, there,

Where my Julia's lips do smile,

There's the land, or cherry-isle. Cherry Ripe.

Fall on me like a silent dew,

Or like those maiden showers, Which, by the peep of day, do strew

A baptism o'er the flowers.

To Music, to becalm his Fever.

Fair daffadills, we weep to see

You haste away so soon:

As yet the early rising sun

Has not attained his noon. To Daffadills.

A sweet disorder in the dress

Kindles in clothes a wantonness.

Delight in Disorder.

A winning wave, deserving note,

In the tempestuous petticoat, —

A careless shoe-string, in whose tie

I see a wild civility,

Do more bewitch me, than when art

Is too precise in every part.

Ibid.

Thus woe succeeds a woe, as wave a wave.1

Sorrows Succeed.

You say to me-wards your affection 's strong; Pray love me little, so you love me long.2

Love me little, love me long.

1 See Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act iv. Sc. 7; Young's

Night Thoughts, iii. Line 63.

2 Love me little, love me long. - Marlowe, The Jew of Malta, Act iv. Sc. 5.

Herrick.- Shirley. - Kepler.

169

Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt; Nothing's so hard but search will find it out.1

Seek and Find.

JAMES SHIRLEY. 1596-1666.

The glories of our blood and state
Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armour against fate;
Death lays his icy hands on kings.

Contention of Ajax and Ulysses. Sc. iii.

Only the actions of the just2

Smell sweet and blossom in the dust.3

Ibid.

Death calls ye to the crowd of common men.

Cupid and Death. Song.

JOHN KEPLER.

1571-1630.

It

may well wait a century for a reader, as God has waited six thousand years for an observer. From Brewster's Martyrs of Science, p. 197.

1 Nil tam difficilest quin quærendo investigari possiet -Terence, Heauton Timorumenos, iv. 2, 8.

2 The sweet remembrance of the just Shall flourish when he sleeps in dust.

Tate and Brady. Psalm cxii. 6. 3 'their dust.' Works, ed. Dyce, Vol. vi.

EDWARD HYDE CLARENDON.

1608-1674.

He [Sir John Hambden] had a head to contrive, a tongue to persuade, and a hand to execute any mischief.1

History of the Rebellion, Vol. iii. Book vii. § 84.

RICHARD LOVELACE. 1618-1658.

Oh! could you view the melody

Of every grace,

And music of her face,2

You'd drop a tear ;

Seeing more harmony
In her bright eye,
Than now you hear.

Orpheus to Beasts.

I could not love thee, dear, so much,

Loved I not honour more.

To Lucasta, on going to the Wars.

Gibbon,

1 In every deed of mischief he had a heart to resolve, a head to contrive, and a hand to execute. Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Ch. xlviii. Heart to conceive, the understanding to direct, or the hand to execute. - Junius, Letter xxxvii. Feb. 14, 1770. 2 There is music in the beauty, and the silent note which Cupid strikes, far sweeter than the sound of an instrument. Sir Thomas Browne, Relig. Med. Part ii. The mind, the music breathing from her face.

Byron, Bride of Abydos, Canto i. St. 6.