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Fair Cynthia's silver light,
That beats on running streams,
Compares not with her white,
Whose hairs are all sunbeams.

So bright my nymph doth shine
As day unto mine eyen.

With this there is a red

Exceeds the damask rose;

Which in her cheeks is spread,
Where every favour grows.

In sky there is no star,

But she surmounts it far.

When Phoebus from the bed

Of Thetis doth arise,

The morning blushing red,

In fair carnation-wise;

He shows in my nymph's face,

As queen of every grace.

This pleasant lily white,
This taint of roseate red,

This Cynthia's silver light,

This sweet fair Dea spread,

These sunbeams in mine eye,
These beauties make me die.

EDMUND SPENSER.

1552-1598.

SPENSER is said to have been in love twice; once in his youth with a hard-hearted damsel, who scorned him, and married a rival, and again in his riper years with a lady whom he married. Nothing is known of either, except that the name of the last was Elizabeth. He is supposed to have met the first, somewhere in the north of England, in 1577 or '78, certainly not later than '79, when he published "THE SHEPHerd's CALENDAR," in which she figured as Rosalinde. E. K., who wrote a gloss to the poem, tells us that Rosalinde is "a fained name, which being well ordered will bewray the verie name of his love and mistresse, whom by that name he coloureth." Who E. K. was, and how he happened to know Spenser's secret, if he did know it, is a mystery. Some real name was undoubtedly hidden in the fictitious one of Rosalinde, but what name? Of whom was Rosalinde the anagram? The question has never been answered satisfactorily. A writer in "THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY," for November, 1858, conjectures it to have been that of Rose Daniel, a sister of Samuel Daniel, the poet. This theory is ingenious, to say the least, but there are, it seems to me, some chronological objections to it. That Spenser and Daniel were acquainted, and that the latter had a sister named Rose, is true; but that Spenser was acquainted with her, especially when he is said to have been in love with Rosalinde, is mere conjecture. There is no reason to believe that he knew Daniel then: for Daniel was his junior by nine or ten years; was from a different county, (Spenser being born in London, and Daniel near Taunton, in Somersetshire,) and was about entering, if he had not already entered, college. He was admitted a Commoner of Magdalen Hall, Oxford, in 1579, at which time Spenser, who was educated at Pembroke Hall, Cambridge, was in Kent, having left college in 1576, or '77. The chances are rather against this early acquaintance of the two poets. Still, they may have known each other, and Rose Daniel may have been the Rosalinde of "THE SHEPHERD'S CALENDAR." All that is known of Miss Rose is, that she married Resolute John Florio, and at his death, in 1625, was remembered in his will. Daniel, the reader will remember, married Florio's sister, Justina.

After the publication of "THE SHEPHERD'S CALENDAR," Spenser proceeded to Ireland, where he remained for a number of years. In 1586, he received from Queen Elizabeth, the grant of the manor and castle of Kilcolman, with other lands, amounting in all to

3,028 acres, in the barony of Fermoy, county of Cork. He took possession of his Irish estate, and began, it would seem, to look about for a wife. His courtship commenced in the latter part of 1592, and he was married on St. Barnabas's day, (the 11th of June, O. S.) 1594. How he fared in this interval-what hopes and fears were his-the old yet ever new story of a lover's life-is seen in his sonnets. He sent them to England after his marriage, and they were published in 1595, under the title of "AMORETTI.”

The name of Spenser's wife was Elizabeth, as I have already mentioned, but who she was is unknown. She is called a country lass in "THE FAIRY QUEEN," and in "THE EPITHALAMION" is said to live near the sea. The writer of the article in "THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY" has a similar theory in relation to her. He transposes the word "Angel," which occurs quite often in the sonnets-too often, he thinks, for poetical purposes merely—and produces the word "Nagle," which he assumes to have been her name. A family of Nagles lived in the county of Cork in Spenser's day. They were divided into two branches, and distinguished according to the colour of their hair, as the Red Nagles, and the Black Nagles. The lord, or chieftain, of the former resided at Moneanymmy, an ancient preceptory of the Knights of St. John, situated on the banks of the Mulla, at a little distance from Kilcolman. It is not certain that there was an Elizabeth in this family in 1592–94, (the records, unfortunately, preserve only the name of the male heir,) but if there was one, there is no reason why Spenser should not have married her. I have no more objection to this theory than to the former one, so, with the reader's permission, the supposititious Elizabeth Nagle shall be Spenser's wife, and Rose Daniel his first love, Rosalinde.

New Year, forth looking out of Janus' gate,
Doth seem to promise hope of new delight,
And, bidding th' old adieu, his passéd date,
Bids all old thoughts to die in dumpish sprite;
And calling forth out of sad Winter's night

Fresh Love, that long hath slept in cheerless bower,
Wills him awake, and soon about him dight
His wanton wings and darts of deadly power.
For lusty Spring now in his timely hour

Is ready to come forth, him to receive;

And warns the Earth with divers-coloured flower

To deck herself, and her fair mantle weave.

Then you, fair flower! in whom fresh youth doth reign,
Prepare yourself new love to entertain.

The merry cuckoo, messenger of Spring,

His trumpet shrill hath thrice already sounded,

That warns all lovers wait upon their king,
Who now is coming forth with garland crownéd.
With noise whereof the quire of birds resounded
Their anthems sweet, devised of love's praise,
That all the woods their echoes back rebounded,
As if they knew the meaning of their lays.
But 'mongst them all which did Love's honour raise,
No word was heard of her that most it ought;

But she his precept proudly disobeys,

And doth his idle message set at nought.

Therefore, O Love, unless she turn to thee

Ere cuckoo end, let her a rebel be!

This holy season, fit to fast and pray,

Men to devotion ought to be inclined :
Therefore, I, likewise, on so holy day,

For my sweet saint some service fit will find.
Her temple fair is built within my mind,

In which her glorious image placéd is;

On which my thoughts do day and night attend,
Like sacred priests that never think amiss.
There I to her, as th' author of my bliss,
Will build an altar to appease her ire,
And on the same my heart will sacrifice,
Burning in flames of pure and chaste desire:

The which vouchsafe, O Goddess, to accept,
Amongst thy dearest relics to be kept.

What guile is this, that those her golden tresses
She doth attire under a net of gold,
And with sly skill so cunningly them dresses,
That which is gold or hair may scarce be told?
Is it that men's frail eyes, which gaze too bold,
She may entangle in that golden snare;
And, being caught, may craftily enfold

Their weaker hearts, which are not well aware?

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