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A Vifion upon this conceipt of the Faery Queene. ME thought I saw the grave where Laura lay, Within that Temple where the veftall flame

* The two Sonnets figned W. R. are understood to be written by Sir Walter Raleigh, who was certainly a poet of no mean fame : The Verses figned Hobynoll are the very elegant production of Gabriel Harvey, by which signature he is described in the Shepherd's Calendar : The Poem figned R. S. may be at. tributed to Robert Southwell, or Richard Stanyhurst, or Richard Smith, or Richard Stapleton, who were poetical writers contemporary with Spenser; and, of whom, Stapleton and Smith are known as authors of other commendatory verses; yet Mr. Upton would aflign this little Poem to Robert Sackville, eldest son of Lord Buckhurst, the Sackvilles (he says) being not only patrons of learned men, but learned themselves : I am at a loss to whom to afcribe the Poem figned H. B., and can offer no other opinion in respect to the author of the next, subscribed W, L., than what the compiler of the Bibliographia Poetica has given, that it might be William Lisle, the poetical translator of part of Du Bartas, and (which the compiler of the Bib. Poet. appears not to have known) of part of Heliodorus : The last Poem bears a signature assumed by several writers in the age of Elizabeth; and I am unable to fix on the author. TODD.

Ver. 1,: Me thought I saw &c.] · Mr. Warton has noticed Milton's possible obligation to this elegant Sonnet of Sir Walter Raleigh, in his Sonnet on his deceased wife :

“ Methought I saw my late espoused saint &c.” But it has escaped Mr. Warton's observation, that there is a pleafing Sonnet, among others, prefixed to Drayton's Matilda, edit. 1594, entitled The vison of Matilda, and figned H. G. Esquire, which obviously requires to be mentioned :

« Methought I saw vpon Matildas tombe . “Her wofull ghoft, &c.” TODD.

Was wont to burne; and passing by that way
To see that buried duft of living fame,
Whose tomb faire Love, and fairer Virtue kept;
All suddeinly I saw the Faery Queene :
At whose approch the foule of Petrarke wept,
And from thenceforth those Graces were not seene;
(For they this Queene attended;) in whose steed
Oblivion laid him down on Lauras herse:
Hereat the hardest stones were feene to bleed,
And grones of buried ghoftes the hevens did perse:
Where Homers spright did tremble all for griefe,
And curft th' accefse of that celestiall Theife.

W. R.

Another of the same. THE prayse of meaner wits this Worke like profit

brings, As doth the Cuckoes fong delight when Philumena 1, fings. If thou hast formed right true Vertues face herein, Vertue herselfe can beft discerne to whom they i s written bin. It'' If thou haft Beauty prayfd, let Her sole lookes

i divine Judge if ought therein be amis, and mend it by Her

eine.

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Ver. 10, Oblivion laid him down &c.] We are apt at first to refer “ him down" to Petrarke, “ Oblivion laid Petrarke down;" while the meaning is, 4 Oblivion laid himself down." There is a parțicular beauty in the allegorical turn of this little composition in praise of the Faerie. Queene, as it imitates the manner of the author whom it compliments. T. WARTON. If Chaftitie want ought, or Temperaunce her dew, Behold Her Princely mind aright, and write thy

Queene anew. Meane while She shall perceive, how far Her ver

tues fore Above the reach of all that live, or such as wrote

of yore: And thereby will excuse and favour thy good will ; Whose vertue can not be exprest but by an Angels

quill. Of me no lines are lov’d, nor letters are of price, (Of all which speak our English tongue,) but those of thy device.

W.R

To the learned Shepheard.

COLLYN, I see, by thy new taken taske,

Some sacred fury hath enricht thy braynes, That leades thy Muse in haughty verse to maske,

And loath the layes that longs to lowly swaynes ; That liftes thy notes from Shepheardes unto Kinges: So like the lively Larke that mounting finges.

Thy lovely Rosalinde seemes now forlorne;

And all thy gentle, flockes forgotten quight: Thy chaunged hart now holdes thy pypes in scorne,

Those prety pypes that did thy mates delight; . Those trufty mates, that loved thee so well; Whom thou gav'st mirth, as they gave thee the bell.

Yet, as thou earst with thy sweete roundelayes

Didst ftirre to glee our laddes, in homely bowers; So moughtst thou now in these refyned layes

Delight the daintie eares of higher powers. And so mought they, in their deepe skanning skill, Alow and grace our Collyns flowing quill.

And faire befall that Faery Queene of thine !
In whose faire eyes Love linckt with Vertue.

sittes ;
Enfusing, by those bewties fyers divine,' :

Such high conceites into thy humble wittes,
As raised hath poore Pastors oaten reedes
From rufticke tunes, to chaunt heroique deedes.

So mought thy Redcrosse Knight with happy hand

Victorious be in that faire Ilands right, (Which thou doft vayle in type of Faery land,)

Elizas blessed field, that Albion hight: That shieldes her friendes, and warres her mightie

foes, in Yet still with people, peace, and plentie, flowes.

But, iolly shepheard, though with pleasing stile

Thou feast the humour of the courtly trayne; Let not conceipt thy settled fence beguile,

Ne daunted be through envy, or disdaine. : . Subiect thy doome to Her empyring spright, From whence thy Muse, and all the world, takes light, ..??... :P

HOBYNOLLI :

FAYRE Thamis streame, that from Ludds stately

towne Runst paying tribute to the ocean seas, Let all thy Nymphes and Syrens of renowne Be filent, whyle this Bryttane Orpheus playes : Nere thy sweet banks there lives that sacred Crowne, Whose hand ftrowes palme and never-dying bayes. Let all at once, with thy soft murmuring fowne, Present her with this worthy Poets prayes : For he hath taught hye drifts in Shepherdes weedes, And deepe conceites now finges in Faeries deedes.

R. S.

GRAVE Muses, march in triumph and with prayses;
Our Goddeffe here hath given you leave to land;
And biddes this rare dispenser of your graces
Bow downe his brow unto her facred hand.
Deserte findes dew in that most princely doome,
In whose sweete brest are all the Muses bredde:
So did that great Auguftus erst in Roome
With leaves of fame adorne his Poets hedde.
Faire be the guerdon of your Faery Queene,
Even of the fairest that the world hath seene!

H. B.

WHEN ftout Achilles heard of Helens rape, un
And what revenge the States of Greece devis'd;
Thinking by sleight the fatall warres to scape,
In womans weedes himselfe he then disguis’d:
But this devise Ulyffes foone did fpy, ... in
And brought him forth, the chaunce of warre to try.

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