10 Through many sirens' charms, which me invited To dance to ease's tunes, the tunes in fashion; Through many cross, misgiving thoughts, which frighted

My jealous pen; and through the conjuration
Of ignorant and envious censures, which
Implacably against all poems itch:

11 But chiefly those which venture in a way
That yet no Muse's feet have chose to trace;
Which trust that Psyche and her Jesus may
Adorn a verse with as becoming grace

may

As Venus and her son; that truth
A nobler theme than lies and vanity.

be

12 Which broach no Aganippe's streams, but those Where virgin souls without a blush may bathe; Which dare the boisterous multitude oppose With gentle numbers; which despise the wrath Of galled sin; which think not fit to trace Or Greek or Roman song with slavish pace.

13 And seeing now I am in ken of thee,
The harbour which inflamed my desire,
And with this steady patience ballas'd1 me
In my uneven road; I am on fire,

Till into thy embrace myself I throw,
And on the shore hang up my finished vow.

1' Ballas'd:' ballasted,

MISCELLANEOUS PIECES.

FROM ROBERT HEATH.

WHAT IS LOVE?

1 "Tis a child of fancy's getting,
Brought up between hope and fear,
Fed with smiles, grown by uniting
Strong, and so kept by desire:
"Tis a perpetual vestal fire
Never dying,

Whose smoke like incense doth aspire,
Upwards flying.

2 It is a soft magnetic stone,

Attracting hearts by sympathy,
Binding up close two souls in one,
Both discoursing secretly:

"Tis the true Gordian knot, that ties
Yet ne'er unbinds,

Fixing thus two lovers' eyes,
As well as minds.

3 'Tis the spheres' heavenly harmony,
Where two skilful hands do strike;
And every sound expressively
Marries sweetly with the like:
'Tis the world's everlasting chain
That all things tied,

And bid them, like the fixed wain,
Unmoved to bide.

PROTEST OF LOVE.

When I thee all o'er do view
I all o'er must love thee too.

By that smooth forehead, where's expressed
The candour of thy peaceful breast,

By those fair twin-like stars that shine,
And by those apples of thine eyne:
By the lambkins and the kids
Playing 'bout thy fair eyelids:
By each peachy-blossomed cheek,
And thy satin skin, more sleek
And white than Flora's whitest lilies,
Or the maiden daffodillies:

By that ivory porch, thy nose:
By those double-blanched rows
Of teeth, as in pure coral set:
By each azure rivulet,

Running in thy temples, and

Those flowery meadows 'twixt them stand: By each pearl-tipt ear by nature, as

On each a jewel pendent was:

By those lips all dewed with bliss,
Made happy in each other's kiss.

TO CLARASTELLA.

Oh, those smooth, soft, and ruby lips,

Whose rosy and vermilion hue
Betrays the blushing thoughts in you:
Whose fragrant, aromatic breath
Would revive dying saints from death,
Whose siren-like, harmonious air
Speaks music and enchants the ear;
Who would not hang, and fixed there
Wish he might know no other sphere?
Oh for a charm to make the sun

Drunk, and forget his motion!

Oh that some palsy or lame gout
Would cramp old Time's diseased foot!
Or that I might or mould or clip
His speedy wings, whilst on her lip
I quench my thirsty appetite
With the life-honey dwells on it!

MY MIND TO ME A KINGDOM IS.

(FROM BYRD'S 'PSALMS, SONNETS,' ETC. 1588.)

1 My mind to me a kingdom is, Such perfect joy therein I find, That it excels all other bliss

That God or nature hath assigned: Though much I want that most would have, Yet still my mind forbids to crave.

2 No princely port, nor wealthy store, Nor force to win a victory;

No wily wit to salve a sore,

No shape to win a loving eye;
To none of these I yield as thrall,
For why, my mind despise them all.

3 I see that plenty surfeits oft,

And hasty climbers soonest fall;

I see that such as are aloft,
Mishap doth threaten most of all;

These get with toil, and keep with fear:
Such cares my mind can never bear.

4 I press to bear no haughty sway;
I wish no more than may suffice;
I do no more than well I may

Look what I want, my mind supplies;
Lo, thus I triumph like a king,
My mind's content with anything.

5 I laugh not at another's loss,

Nor grudge not at another's gain;
No worldly waves my mind can toss;
I brook that is another's bane;
I fear no foe, nor fawn on friend;
I loathe not life, nor dread mine end.

6 My wealth is health and perfect ease,
And conscience clear my chief defence;
I never seek by bribes to please,

Nor by desert to give offence;
Thus do I live, thus will I die;
Would all do so as well as I!

THE OLD AND YOUNG COURTIER.

1 An old song made by an aged old pate,

Of an old worshipful gentleman, who had a great

estate,

That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate,
And an old porter to relieve the poor at his gate:
Like an old courtier of the queen's,

And the queen's old courtier.

2 With an old lady, whose anger one word assuages; They every quarter paid their old servants their wages,