She letteth fall some luring baits For fools to gather up; Too sweet, too sour, to every taste Soft souls she binds in tender twist, Her wat'ry eyes have burning force*; May never was the month of love, Like tyrant, cruel wound she gives, With soothing words enthralled souls * Her wat❜ry eyes have burning force.] Anacreon, in his directions to the painter, orders him to give his mistress the moist, watery eye: Τὸ δὲ βλέμμα νῦν ἀληθῶς ̓Απὸ τῶ πυρὸς ποίησον, "Αμα δ' ὑγρὸν, ὡς Κυθήρής. Her eye in silence hath a speech In Amicam Suam. Which eye best understands.] The expression of silence was Her little sweet hath many sours, Short hap immortal harms; Her loving looks are murd'ring darts, Like winter rose and summer ice Modes, passions, fancies, jealous fits, She yieldeth rest without repose, Her house is Sloth, her door Deceit, Her diet is of such delights As please till they be past; But then the poison kills the heart That did entice the taste. never more poetically introduced, or applied with greater truth, than by Mr. Sheridan, in his noble verses to the memory of Garrick: Th' expressive glance, whose subtil comment draws Gesture that marks, with force and feeling fraught; A sense in silence, and a will in thought. G. Fletcher has, in his description of Justice, with great sublimity, attributed to her the power of interpreting the silence of thought: for she each wish could find Within the solid heart; and with her ears The silence of the thought, loud speaking hears. Part I. St. 10. Her sleep in sin doth end in wrath, Death calls her up, Shame drives her out, Plough not the seas, sow not the sands, Leave off your idle pain; Seek other mistress for your minds, Love's service is in vain. ROBERT SOUTHWELL. DESCRIPTION OF SPRING, WHEREIN EACH THING RENEWS, SAVE ONLY THE LOVER. THE HE soote season that bud and bloom forth brings EARL OF SURREY, VERSES, BY QUEEN ELIZABETH. I GRIEVE, and dare not show my discontent, I am, and not, I freeze, and yet am burn'd, My care is like my shadow in the sun, No means I find to rid him from my breast, Some gentler passions slide into my mind, Or let me live with some more sweet content, Signed, "Finis, Eliza. Regina, upon * If these lines are genuine, they are extremely curious, as presenting us with a lively picture of the workings of a great mind on an interesting occasion; and they serve to ascertain a fact which does not appear to have been much noticed by historians, that an habitual in |