DAVID MURRAY.

[From his "Cœlia," 1611, consisting of sonnets and epitaphs, annexed to "the Tragical Death of Sophonisba," a poem. See Campbell's Introduction to the History of Poetry in Scotland, p. 130.]

TO AURORA.

PALE sad Aurora, leave thy showers to rain,
Of pearl-like chrystal tears thou daily sheds,
In tender bosoms of the flowery meads,
Wailing his death who at Ilion's siege was slain.
Oh, let thy soul appeased with this remain,
That those thy tears plead pity by their sight,
And more, the great bright pattern of the light
To quench his drought, carouses them again.
Cease then to weep, and leave me still to mourn;
Complaining best becomes my mirthless state,
Whom quenchless flames of luckless love does burn;
(Thy Memnon's loss requires no more regret)
And since my own cannot procure but scorn,
Lend me thy moving tears, sweet weeping morn.

SONNET XX.

PONDER thy cares, and sum them all in one,
Get the account of all thy heart's disease,
Reckon the torments do thy mind displease,
Write up each sigh, each plaint, each tear, each

groan:

Remember on thy grief conceived by day,
And call to mind thy night's disturbed rest ;
Think on those visions did thy soul molest,
While as thy weary corpse a-sleeping lay;
And when all these thou hast enroll'd aright,
Into the count-book of thy daily care,
Extract them truly: then present the sight
With them of flinty Calia, the fair,

That she may see if yet more ills remain
For to be paid to her unjust disdain.

GEORGE WITHER.

This poet was born in 1588, and died in 1667. He was a most voluminous writer; but no complete edition of his works was ever published, although no author perhaps was ever more admired by his contemporaries. A list of his pieces is given in Wood's account of his life, (Ath. Vol. II. page 391.) and at the end of a small pamphlet called "Extracts from Juvenilia, &c. printed by George Bigg, 66 1785;" and a more complete catalogue at the end of "Fides Anglicana, 1662."

[The following Extracts are all to be found in his "Mistresse "of Phil'arete," 1622; though in the first and seventh pieces, the text of the pirated edition (1620) has been sometimes preferred.]

SHALL I, wasting in despair,

Die because a woman's fair?

Or

my cheeks make pale with care,

'Cause another's rosy are?

Be she fairer than the day,

Or the flowery meads in May,

If she be not so to me,
What care I how fair she be?

Shall my foolish heart be pin'd,
'Cause I see a woman kind;
Or a well-disposed nature
Joined with a lovely feature?
Be she meeker, kinder, than
Turtle-dove or pelican,

If she be not so to me,

What care I how kind she be ?

Shall a woman's virtues move
Me to perish for her love?
Or her merit's value known,
Make me quite forget mine own?
Be she with that goodness blest
Which may gain her name of best ;
If she seem not such to me,
What care I how good she be?

'Cause her fortune seems too high, Shall I play the fool and die ? Those that bear a noble mind

Where they want of riches find,

Think what with them they would do,

Who without them dare to woo;

And unless that mind I see,

What care I though great she be?

Great or good, or kind or fair,
I will ne'er the more despair;
If she love me, this believe,
I will die e'er she shall grieve;
If she slight me when I woo,
I can scorn and let her go;
For if she be not for me,

What care I for whom she be?

AMARYLLIS I did woo,
And I courted Phillis too;
Daphne for her love I chose;
Chloris, for that damask rose
In her cheek, I held as dear;
Yea, a thousand lik'd, well-near;
And, in love with all together,
Feared the enjoying either;
'Cause to be of one possess'd,
Barr'd the hope of all the rest.

LORDLY gallants, tell me this:

Though my safe content you weigh not,

In your greatness what one bliss

Have you gain'd, that I enjoy not?