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Tell them that brave it most,

They beg for more by spending, Who in their greatest cost

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And if they will reply,

Then give them all the lie.

Tell Arts they have no soundness,

But vary by esteeming;

Tell Schools they want profoundness,

And stand so much on seeming.

If Arts and Schools reply,

Give Arts and Schools the lie.

Tell Faith it's fled the city;
Tell how the country erreth;
Tell Manhood shakes off pity;
Tell Virtue least preferreth.
And if they do reply,
Spare not to give the lie.

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What is the world? tell, worldling, if thou know it. If it be good, why do all ills o'erflow it?

If it be bad, why dost thou like it so?
If it be sweet, how comes it bitter then?
If it be bitter, what bewitcheth men?

If it be friend, why kills it, as a foe,
Vain-minded men that over-love and lust it?
If it be foe, fondling, how dar'st thou trust it?

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EMBLEMA.

Friend faber, cast me a round hollow ball,

Blown full of wind, for emblem of this All;
Adorn it fair, and flourish every part

With flowers and fruits, with brooks, beasts, fish, and fowl,
With rarest cunning of thy curious art:

And grave in gold, about my silver bowl,

Thus rolls the world, the idol of mankind,

Whose fruit is fiction; whose foundation wind.

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FUIMUS FUMUS.

Where, where are now the great reports
Of those huge haughty earthborn giants?
Where are the lofty towers and forts

Of those proud kings bade Heaven defiance?
When these I to my mind revoke,

Methinks I see a mighty smoke

Thick mounting from quick-burning matter,
Which in an instant winds do scatter.

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OMNIA SOMNIA.

Go, silly worm, drudge, trudge, and travel,
Despising pain, so thou may'st gain
Some honour or some golden gravel;
But death the while, to fill his number,
With sudden call takes thee from all,
To prove thy days but dream and slumber.

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MORS MORTIS.

The World and Death one day them cross-disguised,
To cozen man, when sin had once beguiled him.
Both called him forth, and questioning advisèd

To say whose servant he would fairly yield him.
Man, weening then but to the World to' have given him,
By the false World became the slave of Death;
But from their fraud he did appeal by faith

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TO HIM whose death killed Death, and from the world has driven him.

Joshua Sylvester.

VIII

THE STORY OF A SUMMER DAY.

O perfect Light, which shaid away
The darkness from the light,

And set a ruler o'er the day,
Another o'er the night;

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While in the east, when it is gone,

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Our hemisphere is polished clean,
And lightened more and more;
While everything is clearly seen,
Which seemèd dim before:

Except the glistering astres bright,
Which all the night were clear,
Offuskèd with a greater light
No longer do appear.

The golden globe incontinent

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The misty reek, the clouds of rain
From tops of mountains skails,

Clear are the highest hills and plain,
The vapours take the vales.

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