Then me, vnhappie nymph, whom the dire fall

Of my ioyes spring :—but there, aye mee, shee cried, And spake no more; for sorrow speech denied, And downe into her watrie lodge did goe;

The very waters when shee sunke did showe With many wrinkled1 ohs, they sympathiz'd her woe:

The sunne in mourning clouds inveloped,
Flew fast into the westearne world to tell
Newes of her death; Heaven itselfe sorrowed
With teares that to the earthes dank bosome fell;
But when the next Aurora 'gan to deale

Handfuls of roses 'fore the teame of day,

A shepheard 2 droue his flocke by chance that way, And made the nymph to dance that mournèd yesterday.

G. FLETCHER, Trinit.

1 Wrinckled. G.

2 Sheappheard. G.

AFTER PETRONIUS.

(FROM TANNER MSS., VOL. 465, FOL. 42.1)

Nisis amore pio pueri, &c.

T was at euening, and in Aprill mild,

I me fairest child;

When Night and Day their strife to peace doe bring,
To haue an equall interest in the Spring,

The sunne being arbiter: I walkt to see
How Nature drew a meddow, and a tree,
In orient colours; and to smell what sent
Of true perfume the winds the aire had lent.
When with a happy carelesse glance I spy
One pace, a shade: Encolpus cry'd 'tis I;
And soe vnmaskt his forehead, brancht more faire
Than locks of grasse-our motley Rhea's haire.

I had mine eyes soe full of such a freind,
That Flora's pride was dimm'd; and in the end
I askt some time, before I could perswade
My senses it was Spring; the silken blade

Of cowslips lost their grace; the speckled pancie
Came short to flatter, though he smil'd, my fancie.

On the margin Bancroft has written that he had obtained this poem from a Mr Blois, and he notes that (as supra) it was from the Encolpus of Petronius.

If later seasons had the roses bredd,

I doubt the modest damaske had turn'd redd,
Stain'd with a parallel; but it was good
They swadled were, like infants, in the bud;
Solsequium,1 gladd of this excuse, begunne
To close his blushes with the setting sunne.
Thrice chanting philomel beganne a song,
Thrice had no audience for Encolpus' tongue.
This thorne did touch her breast to be rejected,
And tun'd a moane; not heard, she was neglected.
I thought vncurteous Time would wait, but Night
Appear'd, Orion's whelpes had chas'd the light
Into the Westerne couerts; judge from hence
How farre a beauty commands reuerence.
The neighbour starres in loue were waxen clearer,
The farthest shott methought, to view him nearer.
My Vranoscopy said, the moone did cast
Faint beames and sullen glimpses; when at last
I spy'd in her a new and vncouth spott,—
Doubtles through envy all the rest she gott:
And then she held her palenes in a shrowd
Borrowing the pleighted curtaines of a clowd.2
Flowers, birds, and starres, all to Encolpus yields,
As to Adonis doe Adonis fields.

Oh had some other, thus describ'd, and seene!
I came a partiall judge, to praise the screene.

1 Sunflower.

G. FLETCHER.

2 Cf. Milton later, "play in the plighted clouds" (Comus, 1. 300).

R

From Reward of the Faithfull

....

(1.) THE HEAVENLY COUNTRY.

"Which diuine thought wee shall not find in the hearts alone of the children of light, that haue the starres of heauen shining thicke in them, (Hebr. 11, 16) but in

the minds of heathen men, that lay shadowed in their owne naturall wisedome, out of which the banisht Consul of Rome, Boetius, could sing

Hæc, dices, memini patria est mihi,
Hinc ortus, hic sistam gradum.

O this my country is, thy soule shall say,

Hence was my birth, and here shall be my stay."

(pp. 29, 30.)

[Boethius, Cons. Phil. IV., metr. 1, 1. 25, 26. G.]

(2.) THE ROSE and 'BLACK BUT COMELY.'

"Cleane opposite are these glories, and delights, and this ambition to those of our vnder-world. Gather all the roses of pleasure that grow vpon the earth, sayes not the Greek Epigram truely of them:

Τὸ ῥόδον ἀκμάζει βαιὸν χρόνον, ἢν δὲ παρέλθῃ,
ζητῶν εὑρήσεις οὐ ῥόδον, ἀλλὰ βάτον.

The Rose is faire and fading, short and sweet,
Passe softly by her :

And in a moment you shall see her fleet,

And turne a bryer.

They looke fairely, but they are sodainely dispoiled: whereas, contrary, all the flowers of Paradise (like the Church, Cant. 1. 5. 6.) sun-burnt and frosted with the heat and cold of this tempestuous world, looke black