subjects with considerable vigour and ability. Only five of his many plays are extant; but a number of his lovepamphlets and stories have been preserved, and these are interspersed with songs and pieces of verse, chiefly pastoral. He died in great poverty and friendlessness in 1592, leaving behind him a character for dissipation and ill-temper which is, however, somewhat belied by the grace and purity of his verses. SEPHESTIA'S SONG TO HER CHILD.1 Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee; Father's sorrow, father's joy! He was glad, I was woe; Fortune changèd made him so, Last his sorrow, first his joy! Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee; Tears of blood fell from his heart Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee; Mother cried, baby leapt ; More he crowed more we cried; Nature could not sorrow hide. He must go; he must kiss Child and mother; baby bless; Father's sorrow, father's joy! Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee; THE SHEPHERD'S WIFE'S SONG.1 Ah, what is love? It is a pretty thing, For kings have cares that wait upon a crown, If country loves such sweet desires do gain, His flocks are folded; he comes home at night. And merrier too; For kings bethink them what the state require, If country loves such sweet desires gain, He kisseth first, then sits as blithe to eat For kings have often fears when they do sup, If country loves such sweet desires gain, A VISIT FROM CUPID.2 Cupid abroad was lated in the night; His wings were wet with ranging in the rain ; Harbour he sought; to me he took his flight To dry his plumes: I heard the boy complain, I op'd the door and granted his desire; I rose myself, and made the wag a fire. Looking more narrow by the fire's flame, I spied his quiver hanging by his back; Doubting the boy might my misfortune frame, I would have gone, for fear of further wrack. But what I drad3 did me, poor wretch, betide, For forth he drew an arrow from his side. He pierced the quick, and I began to start; A pleasing wound, but that it was too high; FAIR SAMELA.2 Like to Diana in her summer weed, Whiter than be the flocks that straggling feed, As fair Aurora in her morning grey, Like lovely Thetis on a calmèd day, Whenas3 her brightness Neptune's fancies move, Her tresses gold, her eyes like glassy streams, Her cheeks like rose and lily yield forth gleams; Passeth fair Venus in her bravest hue, Pallas in wit; all three, if you well view, ABRAHAM FRAUNCE. (1560 ?-1633?) FRAUNCE, a native of Shropshire, was one of a clique of Cambridge men who, towards the close of the sixteenth century, advocated the use in English poetry of the old classic hexameters. At the head of this pedantic school was Gabriel Harvey (1545-1630?), a Fellow of Pembroke Hall, and the intimate friend of Spenser; and with him were associated Sir Philip, then Mr. Sidney, and Spenser himself. Spenser, who at one time experimented zealously in the ancient metre, soon freed himself from the tyranny of his friends, but Fraunce to the last adhered to his hexameters. His chief work was a poem called Emanuel in rhyming hexameters, 1591; but he also was the author of some pastoral verses entitled Lamentations of Corydon for the Love of Alexis, whence it is inferred that Spenser alluded to him in the lines,— "And there is Corydon, though meanly wagèd, "1 FROM EMANUEL. 66 THERE CAME WISE MEN FROM THE EAST." Come fro the East, you Kings, and make acceptable off'ring; Come fro the East by the light of a blessed Star that ap peareth, And to the King of Jews your footsteps rightly directeth. For to appease God's wrath and His most infinite anger. Home to the East, you Kings, and bring the news to the godly, God suff'réth for man, guiltléss condemned for a guilty: Home to the East, you Kings, and tell this abroad for a wonder, "We have seen that Babe of a Virgin, laid in a manger." Home to the East, you Kings, and show that mighty resound ing Of those sweet Angéls, celestial harmony making. 1 See p. 226. HENRY CONSTABLE. (1561 ?-1610.) THE writings of this poet consisted chiefly of Sonnets. Some of these, forming a series, and addressed to "Diana," were published in 1592, and again, with additions, in 1594. He also wrote some Spiritual Sonnets, and contributed Songs and pastoral pieces to England's Helicon, 1600, and to England's Parnassus. FROM THE SONNETS. A BEGGAR AT THE DOOR OF BEAUTY. Pity refusing my poor Love to feed, A beggar, starved for want of help, he lies; A cherry-tree before the door he spies : "O dear," quoth he, "two cherries may suffice, Else need he not to pine as he hath done : A SHEPHERD'S SONG.1 Diaphenia, like the daffa-down-dilly, I do love thee as my lambs Are beloved of their dams: How blest were I if thou would'st prove me! Diaphenia, like the spreading roses, I do love thee as each flower Loves the sun's life-giving power, For, dead, thy breath to life might move me. |