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THOMAS HEYWOOD.

Langbaine enumerates five-and-twenty plays written by this

voluminous author. The following extracts are taken from his “ Pleasant Dialogues and Dramas, &c.” small 12mo. 1037.

SONG.

Pack clouds away, and welcome day,

With night we banish sorrow;
Sweet air blow soft, mount larks alost,

To give my love good-morrow.
Wings from the wind to please her mind,

Notes from the lark I'll borrow;
Bird prune thy wing, nightingale sing,

To give my love good-morrow,
To give my love good-morrow,
Notes from them both I'll borrow.

Wake from thy nest, Robin-red-breast,

Sing birds in every furrow;
And from each hill, let music shrill,

Give my fair love good-morrow.

Blackbird, and thrush, in every bush,

Stare, linnet, and cock-sparrow!
You pretty elves, amongst yourselves,
Sing my fair love good-morrow.
To give my love good-morrow,
Sing birds in every furrow.

$11 EPHERD'S SONG.

We that have known no greater state
Than this we live in, praise our fate:
For courtly silks in cares are spent,
When country's russet breeds content.
The power of sceptres we admire,
But sheep-hooks for our use desire.
Simple and low is our condition,
For here with us is no ambition;
We with the sun our flocks unfold,
Whose rising makes their fleeces gold.
“ Our music from the birds we borrow,
“ They bidding us, we them, good-morrow."

Our habits are but coarse and plain,
Yet they defend from wind and rain;
As warm too, in an equal eye,
As those bestain'd in scarlet dye.

These that have plenty, wear, we see
But one at once, and so do we.
The shepherd, with his home-spun lass,
As many merry hours doth pass
As courtiers with their costly girls,
Though richly deck'd in gold and pearls ;
And, though but plain, to purpose woo,
Nay oft-times with less danger too.
Those that delight in dainties store,
One stomach feed at once, no more;
And, when with homely fare we feast,
With us it doth as well digest;
And many times we better speed,
For our wild fruits no surfeits breed.
If we sometimes the willow wear,
By subtle swains that dare forswear,
We wonder whence it comes, and fear
They've been at court, and learnt it there.

WILLIAM ALEXANDER,

OF MENSTRIE, EARL OF STERLING,

Was born in 1580. Having been early distinguished for his

proficiency in classical learning, he was warmly patronized by James I. by whom he was knighted in 1014, and appointed Master of the Requests. By Charles I. he was created Viscount, and afterwards Earl, of Sterling, and Secretary of State for Scotch affairs; a post which he retained during 15 years, and died in February, 1640. His works consist of “ Darius," a tragedy, 1603. “ Cræsus,” a tragedy, 1604. “The Alexandrian Tragedy," 1604. “Julius Cæsar," 1604. “ A Parænesis on the Prince, and Aurora,” a collection of sonnets. The latter, which was printed with the collection of his works (London, 1607), has not been republished.

Extract from a Speech of Coelia, in the Tragedy of

Cræsus.

Fierce tyrant, Death, that in thy wrath didst

take One half of me, and left an half behind, Take this to thee, or give me th’ other back,

Be altogether cruel, or all kind :

For whilst I live, thou canst not wholly die

0! even in spite of death, yet still my choice ! Oft, with Imagination's love-quick eye

I think I see thee, and I hear thy voice.

And to content my languishing desire,

Each thing, to ease my mind, some help affords : I fancy whiles thy form—and then a-fire,

In every sound I apprehend thy words.

Then, with such thoughts my memory to wound,

I call to mind thy looks, thy words, thy graceWhere thou didst haunt, yet I adore the ground ! And where thou stept–o sacred seems that

place!

My solitary walks, my widow'd bed,

My dreary sighs, my sheets oft bath'd with tears, These can record the life that I have led

Since first sad news breath'd death into mine ears!

I live but with despair my sprite to dash;

Thee first I lov’d, with thee all love I leave ; For my chaste flames extinguish'd in thy ash,

Can kindle now no more but in thy grave !

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