N

The Inspiration of Quiet

OT love, not war, nor the tumultuous swell
Of civil conflict, nor the wrecks of change,
Nor duty struggling with afflictions strange-
Not these alone inspire the tuneful shell:

But where untroubled peace and concord
dwell,

There also is the Muse not loth to range,
Watching the twilight smoke of cot or grange,
Sky-ward ascending from a woody dell.
Meek aspirations please her, lone endeavour,
And sage content, and placid melancholy:
She loves to gaze upon a crystal river—
Diaphanous because it travels slowly;
Soft is the music that would charm for ever:
The flower of sweetest smell is shy and lowly.

Wordsworth.

"The Man of Life Upright"

HE man of life upright,

Whose guiltlesse Hearte is free
From all dishonest deedes,
Or thought of Vanitie;

The man whose silent dayes,
In harmlesse Joys are spent,
Whome Hopes cannot delude
Nor Sorrow discontent;

That man needes neyther towres
Nor armour for defence,

Nor secret vaults to flie

From thunder's Violence;

I

He onely can behold
With unafrighted eyes
The horrours of the Deepe

And terrours of the Skies.

Thus, scorning all the cares
That Fate or Fortune brings,
He makes the Heav'n his booke,
His Wisedome heav'nly things;

Good Thoughts his onely friendes,
His Wealth a well-spent age,
The earth his sober Inne

And quiet Pilgrimage.

Thomas Campion.

Free from the World

ET him that will, ascend the tottering seat
Of courtly grandeur, and become as great
As are his mounting wishes: as for me,
Let sweet repose and rest my portion be;
Give me some mean obscure recess, a sphere

Out of the road of business, or the fear
Of falling lower; where I sweetly may
Myself and dear retirement still enjoy:
Let not my life or name be known unto
The grandees of the time, tost to and fro
By censures or applause; but let my age
Slide gently by, not overthwart the stage
Of public action, unheard, unseen,

And unconcerned, as if I ne'er had been.
And thus, while I shall pass my silent days
In shady privacy, free from the noise
And bustles of the mad world, then shall I
A good old innocent plebeian die.

Death is a mere surprise, a very snare
To him, that makes it his life's greatest care
To be a public pageant; known to all,
But unacquainted with himself, doth fall.

Sir Matthew Hale.

Cælum non Animum

OE find some whispering shade neare Arne or
Poe,

And gently 'mong their violets throw

Your weary'd limbs, and see if all those fairc
Enchantments can charme griefe or care.

Our sorrowes still pursue us, and when you
The ruin'd capitoll shall view

And statues, a disordered heape; you can
Not cure yet the disease of man,

And banish your owne thoughts. Goe travaile where
Another Sun and starres appeare,

And land not toucht by any covetous fleet,

And yet even there youre selfe you 'le meete.
Stay here then, and while curious exiles find
New toyes for a fantastique mind;
Enjoy at home what's reall: here the Spring
By her aeriall quires doth sing

As sweetly to you as if you were laid

Under the learned Thessalian shade.

Direct your eye-sight inward, and you 'le find
A thousand regions in your mind

Yet undiscover'd. Travell them, and be

Expert in home cosmographie.

This you may doe safe both from rocke and shelf:
Man's a whole world within himself.

W. Habington.

Content

WEET are the thoughts that savour of content;

The quiet mind is richer than a crowne;

Sweet are the nights in carelesse slumber spent ;

The poore estate scornes fortune's angrie frowne. Such sweet content, such minds, such sleep, such bliss, Beggars enjoy, when Princes oft do miss.

The homely house that harbors quiet rest,

The cottage that affords no pride nor care,
The meane that 'grees with Countrie musick best,
The sweet consort of mirth and musick's fare,
Obscured life sets downe a type of bliss;

A minde content both crowne and kingdom is.

Robert Greene.

Happy as a Shepherd

H what is love? It is a pretty thing,
As sweet unto a shepheard as a king,

And sweeter too;

For kings have cares that waite upon a
Crowne,

And cares can make the sweetest love to frowne:

Ah then, ah then,

If countrie loves such sweet desires do gaine,
What Lady would not love a Shepheard Swaine?

His flockes are foulded, he comes home at night,
As merry as a king in his delight,

And merrier too;

For kings bethinke them what the state require,
Where Shepheards carelesse Carroll by the fire.

He kisseth first, then sits as blyth to eate
His creame and curds, as doth the king his meate;
And blyther too;

For kings have often feares when they do sup,
Where Shepheards dread no poyson in their cup.

Upon his couch of straw he sleeps as sound,
As doth the king upon his bed of downe,

More sounder too;

For cares cause kings full oft their sleepe to spill,
Where weary Shepheards lye and snort their fill:

Thus with his wife he spends the yeare as blyth,
As doth the king at every tyde or syth;

And blyther too;

For kings have warres and broyles to take in hand, Where Shepheards laugh, and love upon the land. Ah then, ah then,

If Countrie loves such sweet desires gaine,

What Lady would not love a Shepheard Swaine?

Robert Greene.

The means to attain The Happy Life

M

ARTIAL, the things that do attain

The happy life be these, I find :—
The richesse left, not got with pain;
The fruitful ground, the quiet mind;

The equal friend; no grudge, no strife;
No charge of rule, nor governance;
Without disease, the healthful life;
The household of continuance;