Specimens with Memoirs of the Less-known British Poets Part 90

MISCELLANEOUS PIECES.

FROM ROBERT HEATH.

WHAT IS LOVE?

1 Tis a child of fancy's getting, Brought up between hope and fear, Fed with smiles, grown by uniting Strong, and so kept by desire: 'Tis a perpetual vestal fire Never dying, Whose smoke like incense doth aspire, Upwards flying.

2 It is a soft magnetic stone, Attracting hearts by sympathy, Binding up close two souls in one, Both discoursing secretly: 'Tis the true Gordian knot, that ties Yet ne'er unbinds, Fixing thus two lovers' eyes, As well as minds.

3 Tis the spheres' heavenly harmony, Where two skilful hands do strike; And every sound expressively Marries sweetly with the like: 'Tis the world's everlasting chain That all things tied, And bid them, like the fixed wain, Unmoved to bide.

PROTEST OF LOVE.

When I thee all o'er do view I all o'er must love thee too.

By that smooth forehead, where's expressed The candour of thy peaceful breast, By those fair twin-like stars that shine, And by those apples of thine eyne: By the lambkins and the kids Playing 'bout thy fair eyelids: By each peachy-blossomed cheek, And thy satin skin, more sleek And white than Flora's whitest lilies, Or the maiden daffodillies: By that ivory porch, thy nose: By those double-blanched rows Of teeth, as in pure coral set: By each azure rivulet, Running in thy temples, and Those flowery meadows 'twixt them stand: By each pearl-tipt ear by nature, as On each a jewel pendent was: By those lips all dewed with bliss, Made happy in each other's kiss.

TO CLARASTELLA.

Oh, those smooth, soft, and ruby lips, * * * * *

Whose rosy and vermilion hue Betrays the blushing thoughts in you: Whose fragrant, aromatic breath Would revive dying saints from death, Whose siren-like, harmonious air Speaks music and enchants the ear; Who would not hang, and fixed there Wish he might know no other sphere?

Oh for a charm to make the sun Drunk, and forget his motion!

Oh that some palsy or lame gout Would cramp old Time's diseased foot!

Or that I might or mould or clip His speedy wings, whilst on her lip I quench my thirsty appet.i.te With the life-honey dwells on it!

Then on his holy altar, I Would sacrifice eternally, Offering one long-continued mine Of golden pleasures to thy shrine.

BY VARIOUS AUTHORS.

MY MIND TO ME A KINGDOM IS.

(FROM BYRD'S 'PSALMS, SONNETS,' ETC. 1588.)

1 My mind to me a kingdom is, Such perfect joy therein I find, That it excels all other bliss That G.o.d or nature hath a.s.signed: Though much I want that most would have, Yet still my mind forbids to crave.

2 No princely port, nor wealthy store, Nor force to win a victory; No wily wit to salve a sore, No shape to win a loving eye; To none of these I yield as thrall, For why, my mind despise them all.

3 I see that plenty surfeits oft, And hasty climbers soonest fall; I see that such as are aloft, Mishap doth threaten most of all; These get with toil, and keep with fear: Such cares my mind can never bear.

4 I press to bear no haughty sway; I wish no more than may suffice; I do no more than well I may.

Look what I want, my mind supplies; Lo, thus I triumph like a king, My mind's content with anything.

5 I laugh not at another's loss, Nor grudge not at another's gain; No worldly waves my mind can toss; I brook that is another's bane; I fear no foe, nor fawn on friend; I loathe not life, nor dread mine end.

6 My wealth is health and perfect ease, And conscience clear my chief defence; I never seek by bribes to please, Nor by desert to give offence; Thus do I live, thus will I die; Would all do so as well as I!

THE OLD AND YOUNG COURTIER.

1 An old song made by an aged old pate, Of an old worshipful gentleman, who had a great estate, That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate, And an old porter to relieve the poor at his gate: Like an old courtier of the queen's, And the queen's old courtier.

2 With an old lady, whose anger one word a.s.suages; They every quarter paid their old servants their wages, And never knew what belonged to coachmen, footmen, nor pages, But kept twenty old fellows with blue coats and badges: Like an old courtier, &c.

3 With an old study filled full of learned old books, With an old reverend chaplain, you might know him by his looks, With an old b.u.t.tery hatch worn quite off the hooks, And an old kitchen, that maintained half-a-dozen old cooks: Like an old courtier, &c.

4 With an old hall, hung about with pikes, guns, and bows, With old swords and bucklers, that had borne many shrewd blows, And an old frieze coat, to cover his worship's trunk-hose, And a cup of old sherry, to comfort his copper nose: Like an old courtier, &c.

5 With a good old fashion, when Christmas was come, To call in all his old neighbours with bagpipe and drum, With good cheer enough to furnish every old room, And old liquor able to make a cat speak, and man dumb: Like an old courtier, &c.

6 With an old falconer, huntsmen, and a kennel of hounds, That never hawked, nor hunted, but in his own grounds; Who, like a wise man, kept himself within his own bounds, And when he died, gave every child a thousand good pounds: Like an old courtier, &c.

7 But to his eldest son his house and lands he a.s.signed, Charging him in his will to keep the old bountiful mind, To be good to his old tenants, and to his neighbours be kind: But in the ensuing ditty you shall hear how he was inclined: Like a young courtier of the king's, And the king's young courtier.

8 Like a flourishing young gallant, newly come to his land, Who keeps a brace of painted madams at his command, And takes up a thousand pounds upon his father's land, And gets drunk in a tavern till he can neither go nor stand: Like a young courtier, &c.

9 With a newfangled lady, that is dainty, nice, and spare, Who never knew what belonged to good housekeeping or care, Who buys gaudy-coloured fans to play with wanton air, And seven or eight different dressings of other women's hair: Like a young courtier, &c.

10 With a new-fashioned hall, built where the old one stood, Hung round with new pictures that do the poor no good, With a fine marble chimney, wherein burns neither coal nor wood, And a new smooth shovel-board, whereon no victual ne'er stood: Like a young courtier, &c.

11 With a new study, stuffed full of pamphlets and plays, And a new chaplain, that swears faster than he prays, With a new b.u.t.tery hatch, that opens once in four or five days, And a new French cook, to devise fine kickshaws and toys: Like a young courtier, &c.

12 With a new fashion, when Christmas is drawing on, On a new journey to London straight we all must begone, And leave none to keep house, but our new porter John, Who relieves the poor with a thump on the back with a stone: Like a young courtier, &c.

13 With a new gentleman usher, whose carriage is complete, With a new coachman, footmen, and pages to carry up the meat, With a waiting gentlewoman, whose dressing is very neat, Who, when her lady has dined, lets the servants not eat: Like a young courtier, &c.

14 With new t.i.tles of honour, bought with his father's old gold, For which sundry of his ancestors' old manors are sold; And this is the course most of our new gallants hold, Which makes that good housekeeping is now grown so cold Among the young courtiers of the king, Or the king's young courtiers.

THERE IS A GARDEN IN HER FACE.

(FROM 'AN HOUR'S RECREATION IN MUSIC,' BY RICH. ALISON. 1606.)

1 There is a garden in her face, Where roses and white lilies grow; A heavenly paradise is that place, Wherein all pleasant fruits do grow; There cherries grow that none may buy, Till cherry-ripe themselves do cry.

2 Those cherries fairly do enclose Of orient pearl a double row, Which when her lovely laughter shows, They look like rose-buds filled with snow: Yet them no peer nor prince may buy, Till cherry-ripe themselves do cry.

3 Her eyes like angels watch them still; Her brows like bended bows do stand, Threatening with piercing frowns to kill All that approach with eye or hand These sacred cherries to come nigh, Till cherry-ripe themselves do cry.

HALLO, MY FANCY.