Specimens with Memoirs of the Less-known British Poets Part 31

RICHARD BARNFIELD.

Of him we only know that he published several poetical volumes between 1594 and 1598. We give one beautiful piece, 'To a Nightingale,' which used to be attributed to Shakspeare.

ADDRESS TO THE NIGHTINGALE.

As it fell upon a day, In the merry month of May, Sitting in a pleasant shade Which a grove of myrtles made; Beasts did leap, and birds did sing, Trees did grow, and plants did spring; Everything did banish moan, Save the nightingale alone.

She, poor bird, as all forlorn, Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn; And there sung the dolefull'st ditty, That to hear it was great pity.

'Fie, fie, fie,' now would she cry; 'Teru, teru,' by and by; That, to hear her so complain, Scarce I could from tears refrain; For her griefs, so lively shown, Made me think upon mine own.

Ah! (thought I) thou mourn'st in vain; None takes pity on thy pain: Senseless trees, they cannot hear thee, Ruthless bears they will not cheer thee: King Pandion he is dead; All thy friends are lapp'd in lead; All thy fellow-birds do sing, Careless of thy sorrowing!

Whilst as fickle Fortune smiled, Thou and I were both beguiled.

Every one that flatters thee Is no friend in misery.

Words are easy, like the wind; Faithful friends are hard to find.

Every man will be thy friend Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend: But, if store of crowns be scant, No man will supply thy want.

If that one be prodigal, Bountiful they will him call; And with such-like flattering, 'Pity but he were a king.'

If he be addict to vice, Quickly him they will entice; But if Fortune once do frown, Then farewell his great renown: They that fawn'd on him before Use his company no more.

He that is thy friend indeed, He will help thee in thy need; If thou sorrow, he will weep, If thou wake, he cannot sleep: Thus, of every grief in heart He with thee doth bear a part.

These are certain signs to know Faithful friend from flattering foe.

ALEXANDER HUME.

This Scottish poet was the second son of Patrick, fifth Baron of Polwarth. He was born about the middle of the sixteenth century, and died in 1609. He resided for some years, in the early part of his life, in France. Returning home, he studied law, and then tried his fortune at Court. Here he was eclipsed by a rival, named Montgomery; and after a.s.sailing his rival, who rejoined, in verse, he became a clergyman in disgust, and was settled in the parish of Logie. Here he darkened into a sour and savage Calvinist, and uttered an exhortation to the youth of Scotland to forego the admiration of cla.s.sical heroes, and to read no love-poetry save the 'Song of Solomon.' In another poetic walk, however, that of natural description, Hume excelled, and we print with pleasure some parts of his 'Summer's Day,' which our readers may compare with Mr Aird's fine poem under the same t.i.tle, and be convinced that the sky of Scotland was as blue, and the gra.s.s as green, and Scottish eyes as quick to perceive their beauty, in the sixteenth century as now.

THANKS FOR A SUMMER'S DAY.

1 O perfect light which shade[1] away The darkness from the light, And set a ruler o'er the day, Another o'er the night.

2 Thy glory, when the day forth flies, More vively does appear, Nor[2] at mid-day unto our eyes The shining sun is clear.

3 The shadow of the earth anon Removes and drawis by, Syne[3] in the east, when it is gone, Appears a clearer sky.

4 Which soon perceive the little larks, The lapwing, and the snipe, And tune their song like Nature's clerks, O'er meadow, muir, and stripe.

5 But every bold nocturnal beast No longer may abide, They hie away both maist and least,[4]

Themselves in house to hide.

6 The golden globe incontinent Sets up his shining head, And o'er the earth and firmament Displays his beams abroad.[5]

7 For joy the birds with boulden[6] throats, Against his visage sheen,[7]

Take up their kindly music notes In woods and gardens green.

8 Upbraids[8] the careful husbandman, His corn and vines to see, And every timeous[9] artisan In booths works busily.

9 The pastor quits the slothful sleep, And pa.s.ses forth with speed, His little camow-nosed[10] sheep, And rowting kye[11] to feed.

10 The pa.s.senger, from perils sure, Goes gladly forth the way, Brief, every living creature Takes comfort of the day.

11 The misty reek,[12] the clouds of rain From tops of mountain skails,[13]

Clear are the highest hills and plain, The vapours take the vales.

12 Begaired[14] is the sapphire pend[15]

With spraings[16] of scarlet hue; And preciously from end to end, Damasked white and blue.

13 The ample heaven, of fabric sure, In clearness does surpa.s.s The crystal and the silver, pure As clearest polish'd gla.s.s.

14 The time so tranquil is and clear, That nowhere shall ye find, Save on a high and barren hill, The air of pa.s.sing wind.

15 All trees and simples, great and small, That balmy leaf do bear, Than they were painted on a wall, No more they move or steir.[17]

16 The rivers fresh, the caller[18] streams, O'er rocks can swiftly rin,[19]

The water clear like crystal beams, And makes a pleasant din.

17 Calm is the deep and purple sea, Yea, smoother than the sand; The waves, that woltering[20] wont to be, Are stable like the land.

18 So silent is the cessile air, That every cry and call, The hills and dales, and forest fair, Again repeats them all.

19 The clogged busy humming bees, That never think to drown,[21]

On flowers and flourishes of trees, Collect their liquor brown.

20 The sun most like a speedy post With ardent course ascends; The beauty of our heavenly host Up to our zenith tends.

21 The breathless flocks draw to the shade And freshure[22] of their fauld;[23]

The startling nolt, as they were mad, Run to the rivers cauld.

22 The herds beneath some leafy trees, Amidst the flowers they lie; The stable ships upon the seas Tend up their sails to dry.

23 The hart, the hind, the fallow-deer, Are tapish'd[24] at their rest; The fowls and birds that made thee beare,[25]

Prepare their pretty nest.

24 The rayons dure[26] descending down, All kindle in a gleid;[27]

In city, nor in burrough town, May none set forth their head.