To a Gentlewoman, objecting to him his grey hairs.

Am I despis'd because you say,

And I dare swear that I am grey ?
Know, lady, you have but your day,
And time will come, when you shall wear
Such frost and snow upon your hair.
And when (though long it comes to pass)
You question with your looking-glass,
And in that sincere chrystal seek,
But find no rose-bud in your cheek;
Nor any bed to give the shew

Where such a rare carnation grew ;

Ah! then too late, close in your chamber keeping,

It will be told

That you are old

By those true tears you're weeping.

The mad Maid's Song.

GOOD-morrow to the day so fair!

Good-morning, sir, to you!

Good-morrow to mine own torn hair,

Bedabbled with the dew!

Good-morning to this primrose too!
Good-morrow to each maid,

That will with flowers the tomb bestrew
Wherein my love is laid!

I'll seek him there! I know, ere this, The cold, cold earth doth shake him ; But I will go, or send a kiss

By you, sir, to awake him.

Pray, hurt him not! though he be dead
He knows well who do love him;
And who with green-turfs rear his head,
And who do rudely move him.

He's soft and tender-pray, take heed !—
With bands of cowslips bind him ;
And bring him home-but 'tis decreed
That I shall never find him.

THOMAS STANLEY,

The very learned editor of Æschylus, and author of "The "History of Philosophy," was the only son of Sir Thomas Stanley, knt. of Cumberlow-green in Hertfordshire, and nephew to Sandys the traveller and poet. He pursued his studies, first at home, and afterwards in Pembroke-hall, Cambridge, under the direction of Mr. Wm. Fairfax, son to the celebrated translator of Tasso. Having continued at the University till he had taken the degree of A. M. and been admitted to the same at Oxford, 1640, he then travelled in foreign countries: and on his return lived, during part of the civil wars, in the Middle Temple. He was the friend of Shirley, Sherburne, Hall, and Suckling. His poems, printed in 1651, 12mo. consist principally of translations, with a few original compositions, from which the following specimens are borrowed. He married when young, and died in 1678.

Phillips, after commending his other works, adds, that Stanley was "particularly honoured for his smooth air and gentile "spirit in poetry; which appears not only in his own "genuine poems, but also from what he hath so well "translated out of ancient Greek, and modern Italian, "Spanish, and French poets, as to make his own.”

See Langbaine, Wood's Fasti, I. 284, and the Biographia Britannica.

The Deposition.

THOUGH, when I lov'd thee, thou were fair,

Thou art no longer so:

Those glories all the pride they wear

Unto opinion owe.

Beauties, like stars, in borrow'd lustre shine, And 'twas my love that gave thee thine.

The flames that dwelt within thine eye
Do now with mine expire;
Thy brightest graces fade and die

At once with my desire.

Love's fires thus mutual influence return;
Thine cease to shine when mine to burn.

Then, proud Celinda, hope no more
To be implor'd or woo'd ;
Since by thy scorn thou dost restore
The wealth my love bestow'd :

And thy despis'd disdain too late shall find
That none are fair but who are kind!

Love's Heretic.

HE whose active thoughts disdain
To be captive to one foe,
And would break his single chain,

Or else more would undergo;

Let him learn the art of me
By new bondage to be free.

What tyrannic mistress dare

To one beauty love confine?
Who, unbounded as the air,

All may court, but none decline.
Why should we the heart deny
As many objects as the eye.

Wheresoe'er I turn or move

A new passion doth detain me; Those kind beauties that do love,

Or those proud ones that disdain me. This frown melts, and that smile burns me; This to tears, that ashes turns me.

Soft fresh virgins, not full-blown,

With their youthful sweetness take me; Sober matrons, that have known

Long since what these prove, awake me;