The fire that all things eke consumeth clean, THOMAS TUSSER, another poet of the age of Henry the Eighth, though in genius much inferior to either the Earl of Surrey or Sir Thomas Wyatt, was of an ancient family, and was born in 1523, but at what place is unknown. He received a liberal education, and commenced life at court, under the patronage of Lord Paget; but not being adapted to a court life, he turned his attention to farming, and for a number of years pursued that course of life, successively in Sussex, Ipswich, Essex, Norwich, and other places. Not succeeding in that calling, he left it and followed other occupations, among which was that of a chorister, and it is said, a fiddler. As might be expected of one so inconstant, he did not prosper in the world, but died poor in London, in 1580, in the fifty-eighth year of his age. Tusser's poem, entitled a Hundreth Good Points of Husbandrie, which was first published in 1557, contains a series of practical directions for farming, expressed in simple and inelegant, though not always, dull verse. It has, however, the honor of being the first regular didactic poem in the language. From this poem we select the two following extracts : HOUSEWIFELY PHYSIC. Good huswife provides, ere a sickness do come, All such with good pot herbs, should follow the plough. And others the like, or else lie like a fool. Conserves of barbary, quinces and such, Though thousands hate physic, because of the cost, Good diet, with wisdom, best comforteth man. In health, to be stirring shall profit thee best; MORAL REFLECTIONS ON THE WIND. Though winds do rage as winds were wood,1 And trees, at spring, doth yield forth bud, It is an ill wind turns none to good. ANDREW BOURD, physician to Henry the Eighth, was contemporary with Tusser, and was the author of the following lines, which form an inscription under the picture of an Englishman, naked, with a roll of cloth in one hand, and a pair of scissors in the other. The poem is chiefly valuable at the present time as indicating the English spirit of that age. CHARACTERISTIC OF AN ENGLISHMAN. I am an Englishman, and naked I stand here, All new fashions be pleasant to me, I will have them whether I thrive or thee: Now I am a fisher, all men on me look I will have a garment reach to my tail. I overcome my adversaries by land and by sea: I had no peer if to myself I were true; If I were wise, and would hold myself still, And meddle with no matters but to me pertaining, And to wear them my thrift I will sell. In all this world I shall have but a time: Hold the cup, good fellow, here is thine and mine! 1 Mad. We shall conclude our remarks upon the English poets and poetry of the period extending from Chaucer to Elizabeth, by the introduction of a few miscellaneous poems, written, in all probability, during the reign of Henry the Eighth, and that of his son and successor Edward the Sixth. The first two of these poems are remarkable for being among the earliest verses in which the metaphysical refinements, so manifest in the subsequent period, are discerned. The first is a poet's praise of his lady, but of the writer we have no knowledge. A PRAISE OF HIS (THE POET'S) LADY. Give place, you ladies, and be gone. The virtue of her lively looks I wish to have none other books In each of her two crystal eyes It would you all in heart suffice I think nature hath lost the mold, So fair a creature make. She may be well compared Unto the phoenix kind, Whose like was never seen nor heard, That any man can find. In life she is Diana chaste, In troth Penelope, In word and eke in deed steadfast: Her roseal colour comes and goes With such a comely grace, More ruddier, too, than doth the rose, Within her lively face. At Bacchus' feast none shall her meet, Nor at no wanton play; Nor gazing in an open street, Nor gadding as a stray. The modest mirth that she doth use Is mixed with shamefac'dness; All vice she doth wholly refuse, And hateth idleness. O Lord, it is a world to see Truly she doth as far exceed How might I do to get a graff For all the rest are plain but chaff; This gift alone I shall her give: The second of these poems, Amantium Iræ amoris redintegratio est, was written by RICHARD EDWARDS, a court musician and poet, who was born in 1523, and died in 1566; but no farther information of him has been left on record. AMANTIUM IRÆ AMORIS REDINTEGRATIO EST. In going to my naked bed, as one that would have slept, Then did she say, 'Now have I found the proverb true to prove, Then took I paper, pen, and ink, this proverb for to write, As she proceeded thus in song unto her little brat, 'I marvel much, pardie,' quoth she, 'for to behold the rout, To see man, woman, boy, and beast, to toss the world about; Some kneel, some crouch, some beck, some check, and some can smoothly smile Some stand aloof at cap and knee, some humble and some stout, The third of these poems is the far famed Nut-Brown Maid. With regard to the date and author of this poem, no certainty exists. Prior, who founded his 'Henry and Emma' upon it, fixes its date about 1400; but others, judging from its comparatively modern language, suppose it to have been composed subsequently to the time of Surrey. The poem opens with a declaration of the author that the faith of woman is stronger than is generally supposed; in proof of which he purposes to relate the trial to which the Nut-Brown Mayde' was exposed by her lover. The following stanzas form a dialogue between the pair: THE NUT-BROWN MAID. HE. It standeth so; a deed is do', A shameful death I trow; Or else to flee: the one must be, But to withdraw as an outlaw, And take me to my bow, Wherefore adieu, my own heart true! For I must to the green wood go, SHE. O Lord what is this world's bliss, That changeth as the moon! My summer's day in lusty May Is darked before the noon. I hear you say, Farewell: Nay, nay, Why say ye so? whither will ye go? All my welfare to sorrow and care For in my mind, of all mankind HE.-I can believe, it shall you grieve, But afterwards, your paines hard Within a day or twain Shall soon aslake; and ye shall take Comfort to you again. Why should ye ought, for to make thought? Your labor were in vain. And thus I do, and pray to you, As heartily as I can; For I must to the green wood go, Alone, a banished man. SHE. Now sith that ye have showed to me The secret of your mind, I shall be plain to you again, G |