ANONYMOUS.

[From the Paradise of Dayntie Devises.]

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Death a due Debt.

To die, Dame Nature did man frame;
Death is a thing most perfect sure,
We ought not Nature's works to blame,
She made no thing still to endure:
That law she made when we were born,
That thence we should return again;
To render right we must not scorn;
Death is due debt; it is no pain.

Death hath in all the earth a right;
His power is great, it stretcheth far;
No Lord, no Prince can 'scape his might;
No creature can his duty bar :

The wise, the great, the strong, the high,
The chaste, the meek, the free of heart,
The rich, the poor,-who can deny?—
Have yielded all unto his dart.

If thou have led thy life aright,
Death is the end of misery;
If thou in God hast thy delight,
Thou diest to live eternally:

This thought makes man to God a friend,
This thought doth banish pride and sin,
This thought doth bring man in the end,
When he of Death the field shall win.

ANONYMOUS.

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A Christmas Carol.

'rom Byrd's Collection, 1587.]-The original has a burthen of Lullaby attached to it, with some other superfluities here omitted. If read with due allowance, it cannot be denied, that this lay of "the old age," has a charm of wild and touching simplemess about it, and dallies with the innocence of love," in a manner which no art could imitate in modern phrase. The very theme is one which a living poet durst not approach.

Y sweet little Babie, what meanest Thou to cry? e still, my blessed Babe, though cause Thou hast to mourne,

hose blood most innocent the cruell king hath sworne; nd lo! alas! behold! what slaughter he doth make, edding the blood of infants all, sweet Saviour, for thy sake:

King is born, they say, which King this king would kill:

h! woe, and woefull heavy day when wretches have their will!

hree kings, this King of kings to see, are come from farre,

o each unknowen, with offerings great, by guiding of a starre;

s Shepherds heard the song, which angels bright did sing,

living all glory unto God for coming of this King, Which must be made away,―king Herod would Him kill;

h! woe, and woefull heavy day when wretches have their will!

oe! my little Babe, be still, lament no more: 'rom furie Thou shalt step aside, helpe have we still in store;

We heavenly warning have, some other soyle to seeke; From death must fly the Lord of life, as lamb both milde and meeke;

Thus must my Babe obey the king that would him kill:

Oh! woe, and woefull heavy day when wretches have their will!

But Thou shalt live and reigne, as David hath forsay'd, And prophets prophecied:

*

Whom caytives none can 'traye, (a) whom tyrants none can kill:

Oh! joy, and joyfull, happy day, when wretches want their will!

ARCHBISHOP PARKER.

BORN 1504. DIED 1575.

[From the version of Psalms which bears his name.]

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Psalm XCII.

A JOYFULL thing to man it is,

The Lord to celebrate;

To thy good name, O God so hye,
Due laudes to modulate.

To preach and shew thy gentleness,
At early mornyng lyght;

Thy truth of word to testifie,

All whole by length of nyght.

Upon the psalm, the decachord,
Upon the pleasant lute,

(a) Betray.

On sounding, good, sweete instruments,
With shaumes, with harpe and flute.
For Thou hast joy'd my fearfull hart,
O Lord, thy workes to see,
(And I with praise will full rejoice,)
The handy-workes of Thee.

ANONYMOUS.

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Virtue immoveable.

[From the Paradise of Dayntie Devises, 1576.]

THE sturdy rock, for all his strength,
By raging seas, is rent in twaine;
The marble stone is pearst at length,
With littel drops of drizzling raine:
The ox doth yield unto the yoke,
The steele obeyeth the hammer-stroke.
The stately stagge, that seemes so stout,
By yalping hounds at bay is set;
The swiftest bird, that flies about,
Is caught at length in fowler's net:
The greatest fish, in deepest brooke,
Is soon deceived by subtill hooke.

Yea man himselfe, unto whose will
All thinges are bounden to obey,
For all his wit and worthie skill,
Doth fade at length and fall away:
There nothing is but Time doth waste;
The heavens, the earthe consume at last.

But Virtue sits, triumphing still
Upon the throne of glorious fame;
Though spiteful death man's body kill,
Yet hurts he not his vertuous name:
By life or death what so betides,
The state of virtue never slides.

E

32

32

GEFFREY WHITNEY.

He published, in Holland, "Emblemes and other Devises, gath ered, Englished, and moralized, and diverse newly Devised." The Dedication to Robert, Earle of Leycester, is dated 1585. This curious volume is now become very rare: a perfect Copy is seldom indeed to be found, many of the prints are admirably executed and highly characteristic of the subjects. The following lines introduce the "Emblemes,"

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D. 0. M.

SINCE man is fraile, and all his thoughtes are sinne,
And of him selfe he can no good inuent,

Then euerie one, before they oughite beginne,
Should call on God, from whome all grace is sent:
So, I beseeche, that he the same will sende,
That, to his praise I maie beginne, and ende.

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Truth delivered from the Dungeon.

Motto. Veritas temporis Filia.

THREE furies fell, which turne the world to ruthe,
Both Enuie, Strife, and Slaunder, heare appeare,
In dungeon darke they longe inclosed Truthe,
But Time at lengthe, did loose his daughter deare,
And setts alofte, that sacred ladie brighte,

Whoe things longe hidd, reueales, and bringes to lighte.

Thoughe Strife make fier, thoughe Enuie eate hir harte,
The innocent though Slaunder rente, and spoile :
Yet Time will comme, and take this ladie's parte,
And breake her bandes, and bring her foes to foile.
Dispaire not then, thoughe Truthe be hidden ofte,
Bycause at lengthe, shee shall bee sett alofte.