She will not stick to ring mine ear,
To teach my tongue to be so long;
Yet will she blush, here be it said,
To hear her secrets so bewray'd.

SONG.*

Take, oh, take those lips away
That so sweetly were forsworn ;
And those eyes, the break of day,
Lights that do mislead the morn:
But my kisses bring again,

Seals of love, but seal'd in vain!

Hide, oh, hide those hills of snow
Which thy frozen bosom bears;
On whose tops the pinks that grow
Are of those that April wears:
But first set my poor heart free,

Bound in those icy chains by thee!

* In the preceding edition these elegant lines were ascribed to Fletcher, in whose Tragedy of Rollo duke of Normandy, or the Bloody Brother, first printed in 1640, both stanzas are, in fact, to be found; but as the former of the two appeared long before in Measure for Measure, and the songs introduced in our author's plays seem to have been all his own composition, Mr. Malone claims them as Shakspeare's.

RICHARD BARNFEILD,

A poet whose memory has fallen into obscurity, having escaped the notice even of the indefatigable Anthony Wood, wrote and published "The Affectionate Shepheard," 1594, 12mo, (being an enlarged translation from Watson's "Amintæ Gaudia.") "Cynthia with Certaine Sonnets, and the Legend of Cassandra,” 1595, 12mo., and "The Encomium of Lady Pecunia," "The Complaint of Poetrie for the Death of Liberalitie," "The Combat betweene Conscience and Covetousnesse, in the minde of Man," and " Poems in divers humors," 1598, 4to, from which the following specimen is taken. Meres speaks of Barnfeild as his friend, and numbers him amongst our best for pastoral: but no circumstances of his life are known. Mr. Malone, indeed, informs me, that he was of Brazen+ nose College, Oxford; and it appears from the title of one of his publications that he was a graduate. See Ritson's Bibliographia.

The lines which follow have had the honour to be attributed to Shakspeare.

AN ODE.

As it fell upon a day

In the merry month of May,

Sitting in a pleasant shade

Which a grove of myrtles made;

Beasts did leap, and birds did sing,

Trees did grow, and plants did spring;

Every thing did banish moan,
Save the nightingale alone.
She, poor bird, as all forlorn,
Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn;
And there sung the dolefull'st ditty,
That to hear it was great pity.

Fie, fie, fie, now would she cry;
Teru, teru, by and by;

That, to hear her so complain,
Scarce I could from tears refrain;
For her griefs, so lively shown,
Made me think upon mine own.
Ah! (thought I) thou mourn'st in vain;
None takes pity on thy pain:

Senseless trees, they cannot hear thee,
Ruthless bears, they will not cheer thee:

King Pandion he is dead;

All thy friends are lapp'd in lead;
All thy fellow-birds do sing,
Careless of thy sorrowing!

Whilst as fickle Fortune smil'd,
Thou and I were both beguil'd.
Every one that flatters thee
Is no friend in misery.

Words are easy, like the wind;
Faithful friends are hard to find.

Every man will be thy friend

Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend:

But, if store of crowns be scant,
No man will supply thy want.
If that one be prodigal,
Bountiful they will him call;
And with such-like flattering,
"Pity but he were a king."
If he be addict to vice,
Quickly him they will entice;
If to women he be bent,
They have at commandement ;
But if fortune once do frown,
Then farewell his great renown:
They that fawn'd on him before
Use his company no more.
He that is thy friend indeed,
He will help thee in thy need;
If thou sorrow, he will weep,
If thou wake, he cannot sleep :—
Thus, of every grief in heart

He with thee doth bear a part.
These are certain signs to know
Faithful friend from flattering foe.

SIMON WASTELL,

A native of Westmoreland, entered of Queen's college, Oxford, about 1580, where, according to Wood, he took a degree, and was accounted a great proficient in classical learning and poetry. He afterwards became master of the free-school at Northampton; and translated from Shaw's "Bibliorum Summula" "A True Christian's Daily Delight," being a metrical epitome of the Bible, 1623, 12mo. which was enlarged and reprinted, 1629, 12mo. under the title of "Microbiblion." From the latter edition the following stanzas are extracted, which have sometimes been inserted among the poems of Quarles.

Of Man's Mortality.

LIKE as the damask rose you see,
Or like the blossom on the tree,
Or like the dainty flower of May,
Or like the morning to the day,
Or like the sun, or like the shade,
Or like the gourd which Jonas had,
E'en such is man;-whose thread is spun,
Drawn out, and cut, and so is done.-
The rose withers, the blossom blasteth,
The flower fades, the morning hasteth,
The sun sets, the shadow flies,

The gourd consumes,-and man he dies!