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Looking more narrow, by the fire's flame
Doubting the boy might my misfortune frame,
But what I drad did me poor wretch betide:
For forth he drew an arrow from his side.
He pierc'd the quick, and I began to start;
A pleasing wound, but that it was too high; His shaft procured a sharp, yet sugar'd smart;
Away he flew: for why, his wings were dry: But left the arrow sticking in my breast, That sore I griev'd, I welcom'd such a guest.
Philomela's Ode that she sung in hef Arbour.
[From the " Lady Fitzwater's Nightingale," 1815.]
Sitting by a river's side,
Others hold, there re no wealth
Doron's Description of Samela.
[From Groeee's " Acadia," lfllo, 4to.; also in" England's Helicon."]
Like to Diana in her summer-weed,
Girt with a crimson robe of brightest die,
As fair Aurora in her morning gray,
Deck'd with the ruddy glister of her love,
When as her brightness Neptune's fancies move,
Passeth fair Venus in her bravest* hue,
* Eng, Helicon,'' brightest."
An English Jesuit, was born in 1560, and executed at Tyburn in 1595. His poems, all of which are on moral or religious subjects, are far from deserving the neglect which they have experienced. It is remarkable, that the few copies of his works which are now known to exist, are the remnant of at least twenty-four different editions, of which eleven were printed between 1503 and 1600. The besj account of this writer is to be found in the Gentleman's Magazine, for November, 1J98.
Times go by turns.
I He lopped tree in lime may grow again,
The sorriest wight may find release of pain,
The driest soil suck in some moistening shower:
Time goejs by turns, arid chances change by course,
from foul to fair, from better hap to worse.
The sea of Fortune doth not ever flow; .
She draws her favours to the lowest ebb: Her tides have equal times to come and go;
Her loom doth weave the fine and coarsest web: