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XXXVIII. BEN JONSON. 1. EPITAPH ON THE COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE. Underneath this sable hearse Lies the subject of all verse, Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother. Death, ere thou hast kill'd another, Fair and learn'd and good as she Time shall throw his dart at thee,

2. EPITAPH ON ELIZABETH L. H. Would'st thou hear what man can say In a little, reader, stay.

Underneath this stone doth lie
As much beauty as could die,
Which in life did harbour give
To more virtue than doth live: +
If at all she had a fault,
Leave it buried in this vault.
One name was Elizabeth;
The other let it sleep with death,
Fitter where it died to tell,
Than that it lived at all:


3. ROBIN GOODFELLOW. More swift than lightning can I fly

About this aëry welkin soon,
And in a minute's space descry
Each thing that's done below the moon :

There's not a hag
Or ghost shall wag,

* This is generally read as follows:

Underneath this stone doth lie
As much virtue as could die,
Which, when alive, did vigour give
To as much beauty as could live,

Or cry,--"Ware goblin!” where I

“ go :
But Robin I

Their feats will spy,
And send them home with 1 [o! ho ! ho !
Whene'er such wanderers I meet,

As from their night sports they trudge home :
With counterfeiting voice I greet,
And call on them with me to roam

Through woods, through lakes,

Through bogs, through brakes; Or else unseen with them I go,

All in the nick,

To play some trick,
And frolick it with Ho! ho! ho !
Sometimes I meet them like a man;

Sometimes an ox, sometimes an hound,
And to a horse I turn me can,
And trip and trot about them round:

But if to ride,

My back to stride,
More swift than wind away I go ;

O'er hedge and lands,

Through pools and ponds, I whirry, laughing Ho! ho! ho! When lads and lasses


With possets and rich juncates fine,
Unseen of all the company
I eat their cakes and sip their wine.

And to make sport,

I puff and snort,
Ard out the candle I do blow;

And maids I kiss,

They shriek--who's this?
T answer naught but Ho! ho! ho !
Let now and then, the maids I please,

At midnight I card up their wool;
And while they sleep and take their ease,

With wheel to threads their flax I pull.

I grind at mill

Their malt up still,
I dress their hemp, and spin their tow:

If any walk,

And would me talk.
I wend me, laughing Ho! ho! ho !
When men do traps and engines set

In loopholes, where the vermins creep,
Which from their fields and houses get
Their ducks and geese, and lambs and sheep:

I spy the gin,

And enter in,
And seem a vermin taken so;

But when they there

Approach me near,
I leap out, laughing Ho! ho! ho !

4. PICTURE OF THE MIND, Painter, you're come, but may be gone,

Now I have better thought thereon,
This work I can perform alone;

And give you reasons more than one.
Not that your art I do refuse;

But here I may no colours use.
Besides, your hand will never hit,

To draw a thing that cannot sit.
You could make shift to paint an eye

An eagle towering in the sky,
The sun, a sea, or soundless pit;

But these are like a mind, not it.
No, to

this mind to sense, Would ask a heaven's intelligence; Since nothing can report that flame,

But what's of kin to whence it came.
Sweet Mind, then speak yourself, and say,

As you go on, by what brave way
Our sense you do with knowledge fill,
And yet remain our wonder still.

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I call you, Muse; now make it true :

Henceforth may every line be you :
That all may say, that see the frame,

This is no picture, but the same.
A mind so pure, so perfect fine,

As 'tis not radiant, but divine;
And so disdaining any trier,

'Tis got where it can try the fire.
There, high exalted in the sphere,

As it another nature were,
It moveth all ; and makes a flight

As circular as infinite.
Whose notions when it will express

In speech, it is with that excess
Of grace, and music to the ear,

As what it spoke, it planted there.
The voice so sweet, the words so fair,

As some soft chime had stroked the air ;
And though the sound were parted thence,

Still left an echo in the sense.
But that a mind so rapt, so high,

So swift, so pure, should yet apply
Itself to us, and come so nigh

Earth's grossness; there's the how and why.
Is it because it sees us dull,

And sunk in clay here, it would pull
Us forth, by some celestial sleight,

Up to her own subliméd height?
Or hath she here, upon the ground,

Some Paradise or palace found,
In all the bounds of Beauty, fit

For her t' inhabit? There is it.
Thrice happy house, that hast receipt

For this so lofty form, so straight,
So polish'd, perfect, round, and even

As it slid moulded off from heaven.
Not swelling like the ocean proud,

But stooping gently, as a cloud,

As smooth as oil pour'd forth, and calm

As showers, and sweet as drops of balm,
Smooth, soft, and sweet, in all a flood

Where it may run to any good;
And where it stays, it there becomes

A nest of odorous spice and gums.
In action, winged as the wind;

In rest, like spirits left behind
Upon a bank, or field of flowers,

Begotten by the wind and showers.
In thee, fair mansion, let it rest,

Yet know, with what thou art possest,
Thou, entertaining in thy breast

But such a mind, makost God thy guest.

OF MEXICO. Guiom. As far as I could cast my eyes, Upon the sea, something, methought, did rise Like bluish mists, which, still appearing more, Took dreadful shapes, and thus mov'd towards the shore: The object, I could first distinctly view, Was tall straight trees which on the water flew : Wings on their sides instead of leaves did grow, Which gather'd all the breath the winds could blow : And at their feet grew floating palaces, Whose out-blow'd bellies cut the yielding seas !

MONTEZUMA. What divine monsters, O ye gods, are That float in air, and fly upon


[these. Came they alive or dead upon

the shore ?
Guiom. Alas, they liv'd too sure: I heard them ro&r.
All turn’d their sides, and to each other spoke:
I saw their words break out in fire and smoke,
Sure 'tis their voice that thunders from on high,
And these the younger brothers of the sky.
Deaf with the noise, I took my hasty flight:
No mortal courage can support the fright.

QUEEN and huntress, chaste and fair,

Now the sun is laid to sleep,

seas ?

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