SONG.

[From "Sappho and Phaon."]

O CRUEL Love! on thee I lay

My curse, which shall strike blind the day.
Never may sleep with velvet hand
Charm thine eyes with sacred wand!
Thy jailors shall be Hopes and Fears,
Thy prison-mates, Groans, Sighs, and Tears:
Thy play (to wear out weary times)
Fantastic passions, vows, and rhymes.
Thy bread be frowns, thy drink be gall.

Hope, like thy fool, at thy bed's head,
Mock thee, 'till Madness strike thee dead;
As, Phaon, thou dost me with thy proud eyes:
In thee poor Sappho lives, for thee she dies!

Vulcan's Song; in making of the Arrows.

[From the same.]

My shag-hair Cyclops, come, let's ply

Our Lemnian hammers lustily:

Shall singing fly

Through many a wanton's eye.

These headed are with golden blisses,

These silver ones feather'd with kisses,

But this of lead

Strikes a clown dead,

When in a dance

He falls in a trance,

To see his black-brow lass not buss him,
And then whines out for Death t' untruss him.
So; so our work being done, let's play;
Holiday-boys, cry Holiday!

SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.

The anecdotes of the short but brilliant life of this accomplished man, to whose patronage our literature owes so many obligations, are too well known to require any notice in this place. Considered as a poet, he was certainly too much infected with that fondness for conceit and antithesis, which the example of the Italian writers had rendered fashionable; but this fault in him was evidently the effect of imitation, not of character; and is often compensated by real wit, and elegance, and facility. His amatory poems are not whining lamentations about the perfections and cruelty of an ideal paragon, but are lively, dramatic, and descriptive of real passion.

The "Arcadia," if considered as a romance, is tiresome and uninteresting so that few readers have the patience to search for the many curious and animated descriptions, the acute observations, and just sentiments, with which it abounds, and which induced Sir William Temple to describe this author as "the greatest poet, and the noblest genius of 66 any that have left writings in our own, or any modern "language."

The first edition of the "Arcadia" appeared in 1590, and the second in 1593. The "Defence of Poesy," which is valuable as a most judicious and early piece of criticism, was first published in 1595: " Astrophel and Stella" in 1591. Sir Philip Sidney was born the 29th of Nov. 1554, and die: of a wound received before Zutphen, on the 22d of Sept. 1586.

FAINT amorist! what, dost thou think
To taste love's honey, and not drink
One dram of gall? or to devour

A world of sweet, and taste no sour?
Dost thou ever think to enter

Th' Elysian fields, that dar'st not venture
In Charon's barge? a lover's mind
Must use to sail with every wind.

He that loves, and fears to try,
Learns his mistress to deny.

Doth she chide thee? 'tis to shew it
That thy coldness makes her do it.
Is she silent, is she mute?

Silence fully grants thy suit.

Doth she pout and leave the room?
Then she goes to bid thee come.

Is she sick? why then be sure,
She invites thee to the cure.

Doth she cross thy suit with "No"?
Tush! she loves to hear thee woo.
Doth she call the faith of men

In question? nay, she loves thee then;

And if e'er she makes a blot,

She's lost if that thou hitt'st her not.

He that, after ten denials,

Dares attempt no farther trials

Hath no warrant to acquire

The dainties of his chaste desire.

SONG.

[From "Astrophel and Stella." Also in "England's Helicon."]

In a grove most rich of shade,

Where birds wanton music made,

May, then young, his pied weeds showing,
New perfum'd,' with flowers fresh growing,
Astrophel with Stella sweet

Did for mutual comfort meet;
Both within themselves oppressed,

But each in the 2 other blessed.

Him great harms had taught much care;
Her fair neck a foul yoke bare :
But her sight his cares did banish;
In his sight her yoke did vanish.
Wept they had (alas the while!),
But now tears themselves did smile:

* Ed. 1591, " perfumes.” Ed. 1591, "either in cash."