"WHEN I CONSIDER LIFE, 'TIS ALL A CHEAT;

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.

47

Cynthia's shining orb was made

Heaven to clear, when day did close :
Bless us then with wishèd sight,
Goddess excellently bright.

Lay thy bow of pearl apart,

And thy crystal shining quiver;
Give unto the flying hart

Space to breathe, how short soever :
Thou that mak'st a day of night,
Goddess excellently bright.

[BEN JONSON. From the play of "Cynthia's Revels."]

"BETWEEN TWO WORLDS, LIFE HOVERS LIKE A STAR 'TWIXT NIGHT AND MORN."-LORD BYRON.

LIFE AND DEATH.

HE ports of death are sins; of life, good deeds;
Through which our merit leads us to our meeds.
How wilful blind is he, then, that would stray,
And hath it in his powers to make his way!
This world death's region is, the other life's;
And here it should be one of our first strifes
So to front death, as men might judge us past it :
For good men but see death, the wicked taste it.
[BEN JONSON. From the "Epigrams."]

YET, FOOLED WITH HOPE, MEN FAVOUR THE DECEIT."-DRYDEN,

"LIFE, LIKE A DOME OF MANY-COLOURED GLASS, STAINS THE WHITE RADIANCE OF ETERNITY."-SHELLEY.

"NOT TO KNOW VICE AT ALL, AND KEEP TRUE STATE, IS VIRTUE AND NOT FATE."-BEN JONSON.

GREAT ACTIONS OFT OBSCURED BY TIME MAY BE."-BEN JONSON.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.

There's not a hag

Or ghost shall wag,

Or cry, "Ware goblin!" where I go;

But Robin I

Their feats will spy,

And send them home with ho! ho! ho!

Where'er such wanderers I meet,

As from their night sports they trudge home,
With counterfeiting voice I greet,

And call on them with me to roam.
Through woods, through lakes,
Through bogs, through brakes;
Or else unseen with them I go
All in the nick,

To play some trick,

And frolic it with ho! ho! ho!

Sometimes I meet them like a man,
Sometimes an ox, sometimes a hound;
And to a horse I turn me can,

And trip and trot about them round;
But if, to ride,

My back they stride,

More swift than any wind I go;
O'er hedge and lands,
Through pools and ponds,
I whirry, laughing, ho! ho! ho!

When lads and lasses merry be
With possets and rich juncates fine,
Unseen of all the company,

I eat their cakes and sip their wine.

A BODY SOUND, WITH SOUNDER MIND."-BEN JONSON.

"HE THAT STAYS TO LIVE UNTIL TO-MORROW, HATH LOST TWO DAYS."-BEN JONSON.

"HE THAT'S COMPELLED TO GOODNESS MAY BE GOOD, BUT 'TIS BUT FOR THAT FIT."-BEN JONSON.

"STAND FORTH, BRIGHT FAYS, AND TUNE YOUR LAYS."-BEN JONSON.

The men do traps and engines set

In loopholes where the vermines creep,

Who from their fields and houses get

Their ducks and geese, and lambs and sheep;

"I MUST GO DANCE ABOUT THE FOREST NOW."-BEN JONSON.

"HE THAT IS AFFECTED WITH THE LEAST INJURY IS LESS THAN IT."-BEN JONSON.

"WHO GOES TO BED, AND DOTH NOT PRAY, MAKETH TWO NIGHTS TO EVERY DAY."-GEORGE HERBert.

50

"OH, FOLLOW VIRTUE EVEN FOR VIRTUE'S SAKE."-POPE.

[GEORGE HERBERT, born at Montgomery Castle, in Wales, in 1593, author of "The Temple, or Sacred Poems and Private Ejaculations," died at Bemerton, where he was rector, in 1632.]

WOMAN'S TRUE BEAUTY.

E that loves a rosy cheek,
Or a coral lip admires,

Or from star-like eyes doth seek
Fuel to maintain his fires;
As old Time makes these decay,
So his flames must waste away.

"TIS VIRTUE MAKES THE BLISS WHERE'ER WE DWELL."-COLLINS.

"SUNDAYS THE PILLARS ARE, ON WHICH HEAVEN'S PALACE ARCHED LIES."-GEORGE HERBERT.

"NATURE IN VARIOUS MOULDS HAS BEAUTY CAST."-GAY.

IN PRAISE OF SOLITUDE.

51

But a smooth and stedfast mind,
Gentle thoughts and calm desires;
Hearts, with equal love combined,
Kindle never-dying fires.

Where these are not, I despise

Lovely cheeks, or lips, or eyes.

[THOMAS CAREW, the author of many elegant songs and ballads, died about 1639.]

"EVERY SPIRIT, AS IT IS MOST PURE, SO IT THE FAIRER BODY DOTH PROCURE."-EDMUND SPENSER.

A LAND DIRGE.*

ALL for a robin redbreast, and the wren,

Since o'er shady groves they hover,

And with leaves of flowers do cover
The friendless bodies of unburied men.
Call unto his funeral dole

The ant, the field mouse, and the mole,

To rear him hillocks that shall keep him warm.
And when gay tombs are robbed, sustain no harm:
But keep the wolf far thence, that's foe to men,
For with his nails he'll dig them up again.†

[J. WEBSTER, an old dramatist, born 1585, died 1654. The Dirge is
taken from his tragedy of "The Duchess of Malfy."]

IN PRAISE OF SOLITUDE.

HRICE happy he who by some shady grove,
Far from the clamorous world, doth live his own.‡
Thou solitary, who is not alone,

But doth converse with that Eternal Love.

* The reader should compare this with Shakspeare's "Sea Dirge.'

+ Alluding to the wolf's habit of plundering the graves of the dead.
That is, lives on his own resources.

"TIS NOT A LIP, OR EYE, WE BEAUTY CALL."-POPE.

"'TIS THE ETERNAL LAW, THAT FIRST IN BEAUTY SHOULD BE FIRST IN MIGHT."-JOHN KEATS.