THOMAS NORTON. The time of his birth is not mentioned by Wood, who calls him a forward and busy Calvinist. He has been already noticed in the account of the preceding reign (to which, perhaps, he more properly belongs) as a translator of the Psalms, and as a supposed assistant to Sackville in com pleting the tragedy of Gorboduc. His title to the following short piece, rests on the authority of a MS. in the Cotton library, entitled "Verses on several subjects, about Queen "Marys time." A MAN may live thrice Nestor's life, Thrice wander out Ulysses' race, Yet never find Ulysses' wife; Such change hath chanc'd in this case! Less age will serve than Paris had, Small pain (if none be small enow) To find good store of Helen's trade; Such sap the root doth yield the bough! For one good wife, Ulysses slew A worthy knot of gentle blood: For one ill wife, Greece overthrew The town of Troy. Sith bad and good Bring mischief, Lord let be thy will To keep me free from either ill! RICHARD EDWARDS Was born in 1523, educated at Oxford, and, in the beginning of Queen Elizabeth's reign, was appointed one of the gentlemen of her chapel. He died in 1566, much esteemed by his contemporaries for the variety of his talents, being at once the best fidler, mimick, and sonneteer of the court. He composed three theatrical pieces, viz. Damon and Pythias (printed in Dodsley's Old Plays), and Palamon and Arcite, in two parts; and wrote, almost in his last moments, his "Soul knil," soul's knell, once very generally admired. From "Verses on several subjects, about Queen "Mary's time." Cotton MSS. Brit. Mus.: WHEN women first dame Nature wrought, By Nature's grant this must ensue, I pray you ask them if I do lie? No lamb so meek as women be, Their humble hearts from pride are free; Rich things they wear, and wot you why? They never strive their wills to have, The eagle, with his piercing eye, Shall burn and waste the mountains high: [From the Paradise of Dainty Devices.] WHEN May is in his prime, Then may each heart rejoice: When May bedecks each tree with green, Each bird strains forth his voice. The lively sap creeps up Into the blooming thorn; The flow'rs, which cold in prison kept, Now laugh the frost to scorn. All Nature's imps' triumph Whilst joyful May doth last, When May is gone, of all the year The pleasant time is past. May makes the cheerful hue, May breeds and brings new blood, May marcheth throughout every limb, May makes the merry mood. May pricketh tender hearts Their warbling notes to tune, Full strange it is, yet some, we see 1 i. e. sons. Thus, things are strangely wrought, Take May in time: when May is gone, All ye that live on earth, And have your May at will; Rejoice in May, as I do now, And use your May with skill. Use May, while that you may, Your liking and your lust Is fresh whilst May doth last; When May is gone, of all the year The pleasant time is past. |