the colors of language, than in this Rubens of English poetry. Though his story grows desultory, the sweetness and grace of his manner still abide by him. He is like a speaker whose tones continue to be pleasing though he speak too long."

FROM "THE EPITHALAMION."

This pure and noble sponsal tribute, the most remarkable in the language, was written by Spenser to welcome his own bride to his Irish home. It places him among the first of lyric poets.

Wake now, my Love, awake; for it is time!
The rosy morn long since left Tithon's bed,
All ready to her silver coach to climb,
And Phoebus 'gins to show his glorious head.
Hark how the cheerful birds do chant their lays,
And carol of Love's praise!

The merry lark her matins sings aloft,
The thrush replies, the mavis descant plays,
The ousel shrills, the ruddock' warbles soft;
So goodly all agree, with sweet consent,
To this day's merriment.

Ah! my dear Love, why do ye sleep thus long,
When meeter were that ye should now awake,
T' await the coming of your joyous make,
And hearken to the birds' love-learnéd song
The dewy leaves among?

For they of joy and pleasance to you sing,
That all the woods them answer, and their echo
ring.

My Love is now awake out of her dreams,
And her fair eyes, like stars that dimméd were
With darksome cloud, now shew their goodly
beams,

More bright than Hesperus his head doth rear.
Come now, ye damsels, daughters of delight,

Help quickly her to dight:

But first come ye fair Hours, which were begot,
In Jove's sweet paradise, of day and night;
Which do the seasons of the year allot,
And all that ever in this world is fair

Do make and still repair.

And ye three handmaids of the Cyprian queen,3
The which do still adorn her beauty's pride,
Help to adorn my beautifullest bride;
And as ye her array, still throw between

Some graces to be seen:

1 Redbreast. First English "rudduc," from "rude," red. 2 Goddesses of the changing seasons of the year or day. In Greek mythology they were three Eunomia, Good Order; Dike, Natural Justice; and Eirěné, Peace.

The Graces-Aglaia, Radiant Beauty; Euphrosyne, Cheerful Sense; Thalia, Abounding Joy.

And as ye use to Venus, to her sing, The whiles the woods shall answer, and your echo ring.

Now is my Love all ready forth to come,
Let all the virgins therefore well await;
And ye fresh boys that tend upon her groom,
Prepare yourselves, for he is coming strait.
Set all your things in seemly good array,
Fit for so joyful day:

The joyful'st day that ever sun did see!
Fair Sun, shew forth thy favorable ray,
And let thy lifeful heat not fervent be,
For fear of burning her sunshiny face,
Her beauty to disgrace.

O fairest Phoebus, father of the Muse,
If ever I did honor thee aright,

Or sing the thing that mote thy mind delight,
Do not thy servant's simple boon refuse,
But let this day, let this one day be mine,

Let all the rest be thine!

Then I thy sovereign praises loud will sing, That all the woods shall answer, and their echo ring.

Hark! How the minstrels 'gin to shrill aloud
Their merry music that resounds from far,
The pipe, the tabor, and the trembling croud,
That well agree withouten breach or jar.
But most of all the damsels do delight

When they their timbrels smite,
And thereunto do dance and carol sweet,
That all the senses they do ravish quite;
The whiles the boys run up and down the street,
Crying aloud with strong confuséd noise,

As if it were one voice:

"Hymen, Io Hymen, Hymen," they do shout,
That even to the heavens their shouting shrill
Doth reach, and all the firmament doth fill;
To which the people standing all about,
As in approvance do thereto applaud,
And loud advance her laud,

And evermore they "Hymen, Hymen" sing,
That all the woods them answer, and their echo
ring.

Lo! where she comes along with portly' pace,
Like Phoebe, from her chamber of the east,
Arising forth to run her mighty race,
Clad all in white, that seems a virgin best.

Of good carriage.

2 A name of Diana, sister of Phoebus; the Moon, sister of the Sun. The word means "the pure shining oue."

So well it her beseems, that ye would ween

Some angel she had been;

Her long loose yellow locks like golden wire,
Sprinkled with pearl, and pearling flowers atween,
Do like a golden mantle her attire,

And being crowned with a garland green,
Seem like some maiden queen.
Her modest eyes abashed to behold
So many gazers as on her do stare,
Upon the lowly ground affixéd are:
Ne dare lift up her countenance too bold,
But blush to hear her praises sung so loud,
So far from being proud.

Nathless do ye still loud her praises sing,

Whenso ye come into those holy places,

To humble your proud faces.

11

Bring her up to th' high altar, that she may
The sacred ceremonies there partake,
The which do endless matrimony make:
And let the roaring organs loudly play
The praises of the Lord in lively notes;
The whiles, with hollow throats,
The choristers the joyous anthem sing,
That all the woods may auswer, and their echo ring.

Behold, whiles she before the altar stands, Hearing the holy priest that to her speaks And blesses her with his two happy hands,

But if ye saw that which no eyes can see,
The inward beauty of her lively spright,
Garnished with heavenly gifts of high degree,
Much more then would ye wonder at that sight,
And stand astonished, like to those which red1
Medusa's mazeful head.

There dwells sweet Love and constant Chastity,
Unspotted Faith, and comely Womanhood,
Regard of Honor, and mild Modesty;
There Virtue reigns as queen in royal throne,
And giveth laws alone,

The which the base affections do obey,
And yield their services unto her will;
Ne thought of things uncomely ever may
Thereto approach to tempt her mind to ill.
Had ye once seen these her celestial treasures,
And unrevealed pleasures,

Then would ye wonder, and her praises sing,
That all the woods should answer, and your echo
ring.

Open the temple-gates unto my Love,
Open them wide, that she may enter in,
And all the posts adorn as doth behove,
And all the pillars deck with garlands trim,
For to receive this saint with honor due,
That cometh in to you.

With trembling steps and humble reverence
She cometh in, before th' Almighty's view:
Of her, ye virgins, learn obedience,

1 Saw.

And the pure snow with goodly vermeil stain,
Like crimson dyed in grain :

That even the angels, which continually
About the sacred altar do remain,

Forget their service and about her fly,

Oft peeping in her face, that seems more fair
The more they on it stare!

But her sad eyes, still fastened on the ground,
Are governed with goodly modesty
That suffers not one look to glance awry,
Which may let in a little thought unsound.
Why blush ye, Love, to give to me your hand,
The pledge of all our band?

Sing, ye sweet angels, Alleluya sing,
That all the woods may answer, and your echo
ring.

UNA AND THE LION.

FROM THE "FAERY QUEENE," BOOK I., CANTO III. One day, nigh weary of the irksome way, From her unhasty beast she did alight; And on the grass her dainty limbs did lay In secret shadow, far from all men's sight; From her fair head her fillet she undight, And laid her stole aside: her angel's face, As the great eye of Heaven, shinéd bright, And made a sunshine in the shady place; Did never mortal eye behold such heavenly grace:

It fortunéd, out of the thickest wood
A ramping lion rushéd suddenly,
Hunting full greedy after salvage blood:
Soon as the royal virgin he did spy,
With gaping mouth at her ran greedily,
To have at once devoured her tender corse:1

1 Corse is often applied to the living body.

Their fleshly bower, most fit for their delight,
And the gross matter by a soverain might
Temper so trim, that it may well be seen
A palace fit for such a virgin queen.

So every spirit, as it is most pure,
And hath in it the more of heavenly light,
So it the fairer body doth procure

To habit in, and it more fairly dight
With cheerful grace and amiable sight;
For of the soul the body form doth take;
For soul is form, and doth the body make.

EASTER MORNING.

Most glorious Lord of life, that on this day Didst make thy triumph over death and sin, And, having harrowed hell, didst bring away Captivity thence captive, us to win;

13

This joyous day, dear Lord, with joy begin,
And grant that we, for whom thou diddest die,
Being with thy dear blood clean washed from sin,
May live forever in felicity:

And that thy love we weighing worthily
May likewise love Thee for the same again:
And for thy sake, that all like dear didst buy,
With love may one another entertain.

So let us love, dear Love, like as we ought;
Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught.

MISERIES OF A COURT-LIFE.

These lines, from "Mother Hubbard's Tale," though not printed till 1581, seem to have reference to that part of Spenser's life when he was a suitor for court favor. He here drops his antique phraseology, and gives expression to earnest personal feeling in the plain English of his day.

So pitiful a thing is Suitor's state! Most miserable man, whom wicked Fate Hath brought to Court, to sue for "had I wist," That few have found, and many one hath missed! Full little knowest thou, that hast not tried, What hell it is in sueing long to bide; To lose good days that might be better spent; To waste long nights in pensive discontent; To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow; To feed on hope; to pine with fear and sorrow; To have thy Prince's grace, yet want her Peers'; To have thy asking, yet wait many years;

1 Interpreted to mean “patronage," from the customary expression of patrons to their suitors, "Ilad I wist, I might have' done so and so."

To fret thy soul with crosses and with cares;
To eat thy heart through comfortless despairs ;
To fawn, to crouch, to wait, to ride, to run,
To spend, to give, to want, to be undone.
Unhappy wight, born to disastrous end,
That doth his life in so long tendance spend!
Whoever leaves sweet home, where mean estate
In safe assurance, without strife or hate,
Finds all things needful for contentment meek,
And will to Court for shadows vain to seek,
Or hope to gain, himself will a daw try :'
That curse God send unto mine enemy!

Sir Walter Raleigh.

Raleigh (born 1552, beheaded 1618) was nearly of like age with Spenser. There are forty short poems on miscellaneous subjects attributed, with tolerable certainty, to Raleigh. "The Nymph's Reply," sometimes placed among these, will be found in this volume under Marlowe. So small a quantity of verse cannot be regarded as adequately representing Raleigh's genius and power in literature. His life was one of the busiest and fullest of results on record. From his youth he was a sailor, a warrior, and a courtier; but he was also a student. Aubrey relates that “he studied most in his sea-voyages, when he carried always a trunk of books along with him, and had nothing to divert him." From the same source we learn that the companions of his youth "were boisterous blades, but generally those that had wit." The famous Mermaid Club, frequented by Shakspeare, Ben Jonson, and the other wits of the day, was founded by Raleigh; who, through his whole life, had a strong sympathy with literature and learning. His verses are vigorous and original, "full of splendid courage and a proud impetuosity." It is, however, in his prose writings that we must look for the best evidence of his genius.

Urged by the King of Spain to punish Raleigh for his attack on the town of St. Thomas, James I. basely resolved to carry into execution a sentence sixteen years old, which had been followed by an imprisonment of thirteen years, and then a release. So Raleigh was brought up before the Court of King's Bench to receive sentence, and was beheaded the next morning. The night before, the brave poet, looking at his candle as it was expiring in the socket, wrote this couplet:

"Cowards fear to die; but courage stont,

Rather than live in snuff, will be put out."

The remarkable poem of "The Lie" is traced in manuscript to 1593. It exists in a MS. collection of poems in the British Museum of the date 1596. It appeared in print with alterations, in "Davison's Poetical Rhapsody," second edition, 1608. J. Payne Collier (1867) claims it for Raleigh, resting his authority on a manuscript copy

1 Will prove a jackdaw, a fool.

"of the time," headed "Sir Walter Wrawly, his Lie." In this copy the first line is,

"Hence, soule, the bodie's guest."

The poem has been assigned to Richard Barnfield; also, by several recent authorities, to Joshua Sylvester, in the folio edition of whose works there is an altered and inferior version, justly styled by Sir Egerton Brydges “a parody," and published under the title of "The Soul's Errand." It consists of twenty stanzas, all of four lines cach, excepting the first stanza, which has six. "The Lie" consists of but thirteen stanzas, of six lines each. On Raleigh's side there is good evidence besides the internal proof, which is very strong. Two answers to the poem, written in his lifetime, ascribe it to him; as do two manuscript copies of the period of Elizabeth. When and by whom it was first taken from Raleigh and given to Sylvester, with an altered title, is still a matter of doubt; and why Sylvester should have incorporated into his poem of "The Soul's Errand," six stanzas belonging to "The Lie," can be explained only by the laxity of the times in regard to literary property. The versions of this poem differ considerably. The title of "The Soul's Errand" is usually given to it.

THE LIE.

Go, soul, the body's guest,

Upon a thankless arrant:1 Fear not to touch the best;

The truth shall be thy warrant: Go, since I needs must die, And give the world the lie.

Say to the court, it glows

And shines like rotten wood; Say to the church, it shows What's good, and doth no good: If church and court reply, Then give them both the lie.

Tell potentates, they live

Acting by others' action; Not loved unless they give,

Not strong, but by a faction: If potentates reply, Give potentates the lie.

Tell men of high condition,"
That rule affairs of state,
Their purpose is ambition,
Their practice only hate:
And if they once reply,
Then give them all the lie.

1 Errand.