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Help therefore, heavenly boy ! come pierce her

breast With that same shaft which robs me of my rest.

So let her feel thy force, that she relent;

So keep her low, that she vouchsafe a prey ; So frame her will to right, that pride be spent :

So forge, that I may speed without delay; Which if thou do, I'll swear, and sing with joy, That Love no longer is a blinded boy.

SONNET.

My heedless heart, which Love yet never knew

But as he was describ'd with painter's hand, One day, amongst the rest, would needs go view

The labyrinth of Love, with all his band,
To see the Minotaur his ugly face,
And such as there lay slain within the place.

But soon my guiding thread, by Reason spun,

Wherewith I past along his darksome cave, Was broke, alas! by him, and over-run,

And I perforce became his captive slave; Since when, as yet I never found the way To leave that maze wherein so many stray. .

Yet Thou! on whom mine eyes have gaz'd so long,

May'st, if thou wilt, play Ariadne's part, And by a second thread revenge the wrong Which, through deceit, hath hurt my guiltless

heart: Vouchsafe in time to save and set me free Who seek and serve none other saint but thee.

SONNET.

ALL ye that grieve to think my death so near,

Take pity on yourselves, whose thought is blind : Can there be day unless some light appear?

Can fire be cold, which yieldeth heat by kind ? If love were pass’d, my life would soon decay, Love bids me hope, and hope is all my stay.

And you that see in what estate I stand,

Now hot, now cold, and yet am living still, Persuade yourselves Love hath a mighty hand,

And custom frames what pleaseth best her will: A lingering use of Love hath taught my breast To harbour strife, and yet to live in rest.

The man that dwells far north hath seldom harın

With blast of winters wind, or nipping frost ;

The Negro seldom feels himself too warm

If he abide within his native coast; So love in me a second nature is, And custom makes me think my woes are bliss.

SONNET.

Youth made a fault through lightness of belief,

Which fond belief Love placed in my breast; But now I find that reason gives relief, And time shews truth, and wit that's bought is

best: Muse not therefòre although I change my vein, He runs too far which never turns again.

Henceforth my mind shall have a watchful eye,

I'll scorn fond love, and practise of the same; The wisdom of my heart shall soon descry Each thing that's good from what deserveth

blame. My song shall be-" Fortune hath spit her spite, “ And Love can hurt no more with all his might.”

Therefore all you, to whom my course is known,

Think better comes, and pardon what is past :

I find that all my wildest oats are sown,

And joy to see what now I see at last; And since that Love was cause I trod awry, I here take off his bells and let him Ay

SIR JOHN HARINGTON.

Born at Kelston in Somersetshire, 1561, educated at Etori, and afterwards entered of Christ's College, Cambridge. He appears for a short time to have studied the law at Lincoln's Inn, but soon quitted Littleton for Ariosto. In 1599 he became a military man, and on the recommendation of queen Elizabeth, accompanied the earl of Essex to Ireland, where he was knighted in the field. Having attended the ill-fated earl at his impolitic return, he partook of the queen's displeasure, and retired to his paternal seat, where he chiefly resided till the time of his death, which happened

in 1612. As a writer he is principally known by his translation of

“ Orlando Furioso," which appeared in 1591, and was much admired at the time, though now found to be inaccurate and feeble. He completed a metrical version of the Psalms that has not been committed to print, but is preserved in the select and curious library of Mr. Douce. He published a very humorous satire in 1596, entitled “ The “ Metamorphosis of Ajax;" he composed a brief supplement to Godwin's catalogue of Bishops, in 1606, and versified a portion of “ Schola Salerni,” in 1609. But the “ elegant and wittie epigrams” of our learned knight formed his most popular production, and underwent several impressions. From Lib. I. epig. 4. the following specimen is extracted.

Of a pointed Diamond, given by the Author to his

Wife, at the birth of his eldest Son.

Dear! I to thee this diamond commend,
In which a model of thyself I send.

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