1382

ich schau dich an, und wehmuth
schleicht mir ins Herzs hinein.
Mir ist als ob ich die Hände
auf's Haupt dir legen sollte,
betend, das Gott dich erhalte
so rein und schön und hold.

CONTENT

H. HEINE

1383

1384

HOMELY hearts do harbour quiet,

fear and mickle solace:

states suspect their bed and diet;
fear and craft do haunt the palace.
Little would I, little want I;
where the mind and store agreeth,
smallest comfort is not scanty;
least he longs that little seeth.

R

EPITAPH

T. LODGE

EADER! if to thy bosom cling the pain

of recent sorrow combated in vain;

or if thy cherished grief hath failed to thwart
time still intent on his insidious part,

lulling the mourner's best good thoughts asleep,
pilfering regrets we would, but cannot, keep;

bear with him, judge him gently, who makes known

his bitter loss by this memorial Stone;

and pray, that in his faithful breast the grace
of resignation find a hallowed place.

W. WORDSWORTH

THE SNOWDROP

OENEATH the chilling air when I behold

languid head:

when I behold thee drooping, pale and cold,

and sorrowing for thy vernal sisters dead; methinks I mark in thee the child of woe, exposed to hardship from his earliest birth, bending beneath the wintry storms that blow, his only portion a rude spot of earth;

yet sure, like thine, meek flow'r, his spring draws

near,

and Heaven's sweet sunshine shall inhale each tear.

W. SCROPE

1385 UPON A MAID THAT DYED THE DAY SHE WAS

1386

MARRYED

HAT morne which saw me made a bride

THAT

the evening witnest that I dy'd:

those holy lights, wherewith they guide

unto the bed the bashfull bride,

served but as tapers for to burne
and light my reliques to their urne.
This epitaph, which here you see,
supply'd the epithalamie.

A

TO LAURELS

FUNERALL stone,

or verse, I covet none; but onely crave

of you, that I may have

R. HERRICK

a sacred laurel springing from my grave:

which being seen,

blest with perpetuall greene,

may grow to be

not so much called a tree,

as the eternall monument of me.

R. HERRICK

1387 EPITAPH ON MISS DRUMMOND IN BRODSWORTH

CHURCH, YORKSHIRE

HERE sleeps what once was beauty, once was

grace;

grace that with tenderness and sense combined to form that harmony of soul and face,

where beauty shines the mirror of the mind.
Such was the maid that in the morn of youth,
in virgin innocence, in nature's pride,
blest with each art that owes its charm to truth,
sunk in her father's fond embrace and died.
He weeps. O! venerate the holy tear!
faith lends her aid to ease affliction's load:
the parent mourns his child upon its bier,
the Christian yields an angel to his God.

W. MASON

1388

1389

ON AN INFANT WHO DIED

HOU camest into this world a little spy;
where all things that could please the ear

and eye

were set before thee; but thou found'st them toys,
and flewest with scornful smiles to eternal joys:
no visage of grim death is sent to affright
thy spotless soul, nor darkness blinds thy sight;
but lightsome angels, with their golden wings,
o'erspread thy cradle, and each spirit brings
some precious balm, for heavenly medicine meet,
to make the separation soft and sweet.

SIR J. BEAUMONT

WOULD that I were nigh her,

wherever she rest or rove!

my spirit waves as a spiral fire

in a viewless wind doth move.

Go forth, alone, go forth, wild-wing'd Desire,
thou art the bird of Jove,

that broodest lone by the Olympian throne;
and strong to bear the thunders which destroy,
or fetch the ravisht, flute-playing, Phrygian boy;
go forth, across the world, and find my love!

O. MEREDITH

1390

1391

EPITAPH ON MICHAEL DRAYTON

O, pious marble, let thy readers know

children we

to Drayton's name; whose sacred dust
we recommend unto thy trust.

Protect his memory, and preserve his story,
remain a lasting monument of his glory.—
And when thy ruins shall disclaim
to be the treasurer of his name;
his name, that cannot die, shall be
an everlasting monument to thee.

PART II § 32

BEN JONSON

1392

G

LAUCOPIS forsakes her own,
the angry gods forget us;
but yet the blue streams along
wake the feet of the silver song;
and the nightbird wakes the moon,
and the bees in the blushing noon
haunt the heart of the old Hymettus:
we are fallen but not forlorn
if something is left to cherish:
as Love was the earliest born,
so Love is the last to perish.

E. BULWER LYTTON

1393

TRUTH DELIVERED FROM THE DUNGEON

THR

HREE furies fell, which turn the world to ruth, both Envy, Strife and Slander here appear;

in dungeon dark they long inclosed Truth,

but Time at length did loose his daughter dear, and sets aloft that sacred lady bright, who things long hid reveals, and brings to light. Though Strife make fire, though Envy eat her heart, the innocent though Slander rend and spoil: yet Time will come, and take this lady's part,

and break her bonds, and bring her foes to foil. Despair not then, though Truth be hidden oft, because at length she shall be set aloft.

G. WHITNEY

1394 M. LE DUC DE NIVERNOIS TO MADAME LA MA

RESCHALE DE MIREPOIX, WHO HAD SENT HIM SOME
VERSES WITH A LOCK OF HER GREY HAIR

UOI! vous parlez de cheveuz blancs?
laissons, laissons courir le tems:

que nous importe son ravage?
Les tendres cœurs en sont exempts,
les amours sont toujours enfans,

et les graces sont de tout age.
Pour moi, Themire, je le sens,
je suis toujours dans mon printems,

quand je vous offre mon homage:

1395

si je n'avais que dix-huit ans,
je pouvais aimer plus long-temps,
mais non pas aimer d'avantage.

CLA

THE TRIUMPH OVER DEATH

'LARA ducum soboles, superis nova sedibus hospes,

clausit inoffenso tramite pura diem:

dotibus ornavit, superavit moribus ortum,
omnibus una prior, par fuit una sibi:
lux genus ingenio, generi lux inclyta virtus,
virtutisque fuit mens genèrosa decus:
mors muta at properata dies orbumque relinquit
prolem matre, virum conjuge, flore genus,
occidit, ast alium tulit hic occasus in ortum,
vivit ad occiduas non reditura vices.

1396

R. SOUTHWELL

VENUS TO PARIS

N hell there is a tree

IN

where once a day do sleep the souls of false forsworen lovers,

with open hearts, and there about in swarms the number hovers

of poor forsaken ghosts, whose wings from off this tree do beat

round drops of fiery Phlegethon to scorch false hearts with heat.

This pain did Venus and her son entreat the prince of hell

t' impose to such as faithless were to such as lov'd them well.

And therefore this, my lovely boy, fair Venus doth advise thee,

be true and stedfast in thy love, beware thou do disguise thee:

for he that makes but love a jest, when pleaseth

him to start,

shall feel those fiery water-drops consume his faith

less heart.

G. PEELE