In this last kiss I here surrender thee
Back to thyself; so thou again art free.
Thou, in another, sad as that, re-send

The truest heart that lover e'er did lend.
Now turn from each: so fare our sever'd hearts

As the divorc'd soul from her body parts.

FRANCIS QUARLES,

66

Born 1592, was a very voluminous and very popular writer; and though, as Mr. Headley justly observes, he ❝ too often "mistook the enthusiasm of devotion for the inspiration of "fancy," he certainly deserved a great part of the reputation for which he was principally indebted to his loyalty and devotion. Mr. Jackson of Exeter, in his "Thirty Let"ters," and Dr. Anderson, in his life of P. Fletcher, have defended him against the contempt of Pope. The following lines, extracted from his "Shepherd's Oracles, 1646," will perhaps be thought worth preserving, as they describe, with some humour, the taste of the Puritans. He died 1644. See Mr. Headley's more particular account.

SONG OF ANARCHUS.

KNOW then, my brethren, heav'n is clear,

And all the clouds are gone;
The righteous now shall flourish, and

Good days are coming on:

Come then, my brethren, and be glad,

And eke rejoice with me;

Lawn sleeves and rochets shall go down,

And hey then up go we!

We'll break the windows which the Whore

Of Babylon hath painted,

And when the popish saints are down,

Then Barrow shall be sainted: There's neither cross, nor crucifix, Shall stand for men to see;

Rome's trash and trumperies shall go down, And hey! then up go we!

We'll down with all the Varsities,
Where learning is profess'd,
Because they practise and maintain
The language of the beast:
We'll drive the doctors out of doors,

And arts, whate'er they be;

We'll cry both arts and learning down,
And hey! then up go we!

If once that Anti-christian crew
Be crush'd and overthrown,
We'll teach the nobles how to crouch,

And keep the gentry down.
Good manners have an ill report,

And turn to pride, we see ;

We'll therefore cry good manners down,

And hey! then up go we!

The name of lord shall be abhorr'd,
For every man's a brother;

No reason why, in church, or state,
One man should rule another.
But when the change of government
Shall set our fingers free,

We'll make the wanton sisters stoop,
And hey! then up go we!

Our coblers shall translate their souls,
From caves obscure and shady;
We'll make Tom T*** as good as my lord,
And Joan as good as my lady:

We'll crush and fling the marriage ring

Into the Roman see;

We'll ask no bands, but e'en clap hands,

And hey! then up go we!

GEORGE HERBERT,

Third brother of the celebrated Lord Herbert of Cherbury, was born in 1593. Nature seems to have intended him for a knight errant, but disappointed ambition made him a saint. Walton tells us that no less than 10,000 copies of his poems were sold; a circumstance which proves the religious zeal, much more than the good taste, of his contemporaries. He was fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, and orator of the University; and (because not desiring, says Fuller) had no higher preferment than the benefice of Bemmerton, near Salisbury, and the prebend of Leighton, in the cathedral of Lincoln; at the former of which he built a parsonage, and at the latter a church. He died about 1635.

LIFE.

I

MADE a posy,

while the day ran by:

Here will I smell my remnant out, and tie

My life within this band.

But time did beckon to the flow'rs, and they

By noon, most cunningly, did steal away,

And wither in my hand.

My hand was next to them, and then my heart; I took, without more thinking, in good part,