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CHEVY CHASE.

73

And with earl Douglas there was slain

Sir Hugh Montgomery;
Sir Charles Murray, that from the field

One foot would never flee.
Sir Charles Murray, of Ratcliff, too,

His sister's son was he;
Sir David Lamb, so well esteem'd,

Yet saved could not be.
And the lord Maxwell in like case

Did with earl Douglas die;
Of twenty hundred Scottish spears,

Scarce fifty-five did fly.
Of fifteen hundred Englishmen

Went home but fifty-three;
The rest were slain in Chevy Chase,

Under the green-wood tree.
Next day did many widows come, ,

Their husbands to bewail ;
They washed their wounds in brinish tears,

But all would not prevail.
Their bodies, bathed in purple gore,

They bare with them away :
They kissed them dead a thousand times,

When they were clad in clay.
This news was brought to Edinburgh,

Where Scotland's king did reign, That brave earl Douglas suddenly

Was by an arrow slain. "O heavy news!” king James did say,

“ Scotland can witness be, I have not any captain more,

Of such account as he.”
Like tidings to king Henry came,

Within as short a space,
That Percy of Northumberland

Was slain in Chevy Chase.

לל

“ Now God be with him!” said our king,

“ Since 'twill no better be:
I trust I have, within my

realm,
Five hundred as good as he.
Yet shall not Scot nor Scotland say,

But I will vengeance take:
I'll be revenged on them all,

For brave earl Percy's sake."
This vow full well the king performed

After, at Humdledown:
In one day, fifty knights were slain,

With lords of great renown.
And of the rest, of small account,
Did
many

thousands die :
Thus endeth the hunting of Chevy Chase,

Made by the earl Percy.
God save the king, and bless this land

In plenty, joy and peace;
And grant henceforth, that foul debate

Twixt noblemen may cease!

XXV. JOHN LILLY.

SONG OF THE FAIRIES.

1.
Pinch him, pinch him black and blue,
Saucy mortals must not view
What the queen of stars is doing,

Nor pry into our fairy wooing. 1st Fairy. Pinch him blue. 2d Fa. And pinch him 3rd Fairy.

Let him not lack [black Sharp nails to pinch him blue and red,

Till sleep has rocked his addle head. 4th Fairy. For the trespass he hath done,

Spots all o'er his flesh shalì run.
Kisa Endymion, kiss his eyes,
Then to our midnight heidegyes.

LILLY-STERNHOLD-HOPKINS-CHAPMAN

2. CUPID AND CAMPASPE.
CUPID and my Campaspe played
At cards for kisses; Cupid paid :
He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows,
His mother's doves, and team of sparrows;
Loses them too; then down he throws
The coral of his lip, the rose
Growing on’s cheek (but none knows how );
With these the crystal of his brow,
And then the dimple of his chin :
All these did my Campaspe win.
At last he set her both his eyes,
She won and Cupid blind did rise.

O Love ! has she done this to thee?
What shall, alas ! become of me ?

XXVI. STERNHOLD AND HOPKINS.

THE LORD.

The Lord descended from above,

And bowed the heavens high,
And underneath his feet he cast

The darkness of the sky.
On Cherubs and on Cherubims

Full royally he rode,
And on the wings of mighty winds

Came flying all abroad.

XXVII. GEORGE CHAPMAN.
1. DEDICATION TO PRINCE HENRY.

Perfect happiness by princes sought,
Is not with birth born, nor exchequers bought,
Nor follows in great trains, nor is possest
With any outward state, but makes him blest
That governs inward, and beholdeth there
All his affections stand about him bare,
That by his power can send to Tower and death
All traitorous passions, marshalling beneath
His justice his mere will, and in his mind

CHRYSE.

Holds with a sceptre as can keep confined
His whole life's actions in the royal bounds
Of virtue and religion ...

2. VOYAGE TO

The youths crowned cups of wine, Drank off and filled again to all : that day was held divine, And spent in pæans to the Sun, who heard with pleased When whose bright chariot stooped to sea, and twilight

held the clear, All soundly on their cables slept, e'en till the night was

worn; And when the Lady of the Light, the rosy-finger'd morn, Rose from the hills, all fresh arose and to the camp retired, While Phæbus with a fore-right wind their swelling

bark inspired.

ear:

XXVIII. GEORGE PEELE.

A PRAYER.

The feeble eyes of our aspiring thoughts
Behold things present,and record things past;
But things to come exceed our human reach,
And are not painted yet in angels' eyes.
For those, submit thy sense,and say, Thou power
That now art framing of the future world,
Know'st all to come, not by the course of heaven,
By frail conjectures of inferior signs,
By monstrous floods, by flocks and flights of birds,
By bowels of a sacrificed beast,
Or by the figures of some hidden art,
But by a true and natural presage,
Laying the ground, and perfect architect
Of all our actions now before thine eyes,
From Adam to the end of Adam's seed.
O heaven! protect my weakness with thy strength:
So look on me that I may view thy face,
And see these secrets written in thy brows.
O sun! come dart thy rays upon my moon :
That now mine eyes eclipsed to the earth,

PEELE-QUEEN ELIZ.HARRINGTON,

77

May brightly be refined, and shine to heaven.
Transform me from this flesh, that I may

live Before

my

death regenerate with thee.
That when I think, thy thought may be my guide,
And when I speak I may be made by choice
The perfect echo of thy heavenly voice.
XXIX. QUEEN ELIZABETH.

HER COMPLAINT.
Oh Fortune! how thy restless wavering state

Hath fraught with cares my troubled wit !
Witness this present prison, whither fate

Could bear me, and the joys I quit.
Thou causedest the guilty to be loosed
From bands, wherein are innocents enclosed;
Causing the guiltless to be strait reserved,
And freeing those that death hath well deserved.
But by her envy can be nothing wrought,
So God send to my foes all they have thought.

A.D. MDLV.

ELISABETH PRISONNER,

at any

XXX. SIR JOHN HARRINGTON
By Babel's brooks we sit and weep,

O Sion, when on thee we think;
Our harps hanged up do silence keep

On trees along the river's brink:

Yet they that thral us thus by wrong,

Amid our sorrows ask a song.
Come, sing us now a song, say they,
As once you sang

hand :
Alas! how can we sing or play

Jehovah's songs in stranger's land ?

Yet let my hand forget all plays,

If Salem I forget to praise.
If Salam bide not firm in mind,

Let to my roof my tongue be glued,
If other joys than her I find.

Lord, think on Eden's race so rude

That thus that day did whet this nation,
Root up, root up her strong foundation.

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