UNA AND THE LION.

ONE day, nigh weary of the irksome way, From her unhasty beast she did alight; And on the grass her dainty limbs did lay In secret shadow, far from all men's sight; From her fair head her fillet she undight, And laid her stole aside: her angel's face, As the great eye of Heaven, shined bright,

And made a sunshine in the shady place; Did never mortal eye behold such heavenly grace.

It fortunéd, out of the thickest wood
A ramping lion rushéd suddenly,
Hunting full greedy after salvage blood:
Soon as the royal virgin he did spy,
With gaping mouth at her ran greedily,
To have at once devoured her tender

corse :

But to the prey when as he drew more nigh,

His bloody rage assuaged with remorse, And, with the sight amazed, forgot his furious force.

Instead thereof he kissed her weary feet, And licked her lily hands with fawning tongue;

As he her wrongéd innocence did weet.
O how can beauty master the most strong,
And simple truth subdue avenging wrong!
Whose yielded pride and proud submis-
sion,

Still dreading death, when she had marked long,

Her heart 'gan melt in great compassion; And drizzling tears did shed for pure affection.

"The lion, lord of every beast in field," Quoth she, "his princely puissance doth abate,

And mighty proud to humble weak does yield,

Forgetful of the hungry rage, which late
Him pricked, in pity of my sad estate :-
But he, my lion, and my noble lord,
How does he find in cruel heart to hate
Her, that him lov'd, and ever most adored
As the god of my life? why hath he me
abhorred?"

With which his feeble steps he stayed still,

For he was faint with cold and weak with eld

That scarce his loosed limbs he able was to weld.

THE TRUE WOMAN.

THRICE happy she that is so well assur'à
Unto herself, and settled so in heart,
That neither will for better be allur'd,
Ne fears to worse with any chance to
start,

But like a steady ship doth strongly part The raging waves, and keeps her course aright;

Ne ought for tempest doth from it depart, Ne ought for fairer weather's false delight. Such self-assurance need not fear the spight

Of grudging foes, ne favour seek of friends;

But in the stay of her own stedfast might, Neither to one herself or other bends. Most happy she that most assur'd doth rest,

But he most happy who such one loves best.

LOVE IN ABSENCE.

LIKE as the culver on the bared bough Sits mourning for the absence of her

mate,

And in her songs sends many a wishful

VOW

For his return, that seems to linger late;
So I alone, now left disconsolate,
Mourn to myself the absence of my love,
And wandering here and there all deso-
late,

Seek with my plaints to match that mournful dove.

Ne joy of ought that under heaven doth hove

Can comfort me, but her own joyous sight,

Whose sweet aspect both god and man

can move,

In her unspotted pleasance to delight:

ASTROPHEL (SIR PHILIP
SIDNEY).

"WOODS, hills, and rivers, now are desolate,

Sith he is gone, the which them all did grace;

And all the fields do wail their widow state,

Hath robbed you, and reft fro me my joy;

Both you and me, and all the world, he quite

Hath robb'd of joyance, and left sad

annoy.

Joy of the world, and shepherds' pride, was he;

Shepherds, hope never like again to see.

"O Death! that hast us of such riches reft,

Tell us, at least, what hast thou with it done?

What is become of him whose flower here left

deface:

"But that immortal spirit, which was deck'd

With all the dowries of celestial grace,
By sovereign choice from th' heavenly
quires select,

And lineally deriv'd from angels' race,
O what is now of it become? aread:
Aye me! can so divine a thing be dead:

"Ah! no: it is not dead, ne can it die, But lives for aye in blissful paradise, Where like a new-born babe it soft doth lie

In bed of lilies, wrapt in tender wise, And compass'd all about with roses

sweet,

And dainty violets from head to feet.

"There thousand birds, all of celestial

brood,

To him do sweetly carol day and night, And with strange notes, of him well understood,

Lall him asleep in angel-like delight; Whilst in sweet dream to him presented

be

Immortal beauties, which no eye may see.

"But he them sees, and takes exceeding pleasure

Of their divine aspects, appearing plain,

The choristers the joyous anthems sing, That all the woods may answer, and their echo ring.

"Behold whiles she before the altar stands, Hearing the holy priest that to her speaks And blesses her with his two happy hands, How red the roses flush up in her cheeks! And the pure snow, with goodly vermil stain,

Like crimson dy'd in grain,

That even the angels, which continually
About the sacred altar do remain,
Forget their service, and about her fly,
Oft peeping in her face, that seems more
fair

The more they on it stare;
But her sad eyes, still fast'ned on the
ground,

Are governed with goodly modesty,
That suffers not one look to glance awry,
Which may let in a little thought un-

sound.

Why blush ye, Love! to give to me your hand,

The pledge of all your band?
Sing, ye sweet angels! Alleluia sing,
That ail the woods may answer, and your
echo ring.

"Now all is done: bring home the bride again,

Bring home the triumph of our victory: Bring home with you the glory of her gain,

With joyance bring her, and with jollity. Never had man more joyful day than this, Whom Heaven would heap with bliss. Make feast, therefore, now all this live. long day,

This day for ever to me holy is ; Pour out the wine without restraint or stay,

Pour not by cups, but by the belly-full: Pour out to all that wull,

And sprinkle all the posts and walls with wine,

That they may sweat, and drunken be withal:

Crown ye god Bacchus with a coronal, And Hymen also crown with wreaths of vine,

And let the Graces dance unto the rest,