THE NEW INN; OR, THE LIGHT HEART.

A VISION OF BEAUTY.

T was a beauty that I saw

IT

1629.

So pure, so perfect, as the frame
Of all the universe was lame,
To that one figure could I draw,
Or give least line of it a law!

A skein of silk without a knot!
A fair march made without a halt!
A curious form without a fault!

A printed book without a blot!
All beauty, and without a spot.

THE SAD SHEPHERD; OR, A TALE OF ROBIN HOOD.

LOVE AND DEATH.

HOUGH I am young and cannot tell

THO

Either what death or love is well,

Yet I have heard they both bear darts,
And both do aim at human hearts;
And then again, I have been told,

Love wounds with heat, as death with cold;
So that I fear they do but bring

Extremes to touch, and mean one thing.

As in a ruin we it call,

One thing to be blown up, or fall;
Or to our end, like way may have,
By a flash of lightning, or a wave:
So love's inflamèd shaft or brand,
May kill as soon as death's cold hand;
Except love's fires the virtue have
To fright the frost out of the grave.

* This piece, a dramatic pastoral, in the manner of the Faithful Shepherdess of Fletcher, was left unfinished by Jonson at his death. Only two acts, and a fragment of a third, are all that have come down to us. They abound in passages of exquisite beauty, and display his mastery over a species of poetry in which he is least appreciated.

DRINK

THE FOREST.*

TO CELIA.

RINK to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;

Or leave a kiss but in the cup,

And I'll not look for wine.

The thirst that from the soul doth rise,
Doth ask a drink divine:

But might I of Jove's nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.
I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much honouring thee,
As giving it a hope that there
It could not withered be;

But thou thereon didst only breathe,
And sent'st it back to me;

Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,
Not of itself, but thee.

FRANCIS BEAUMONT AND JOHN FLETCHER.

1584-1616.

1579-1625.

[VARIETY, grace, and sweetness are the predominant characteristics of Beaumont and Fletcher's songs. They occupy a middle region between Shakespeare and Jonson. The individual hand of either poet cannot be traced with certainty in any of these pieces. We learn from the traditions which have reached us, that they lived together on the Bank-side, and not only pursued their studies in close companionship, but carried their community of habits so far that they had only one bench between them, and used the same clothes and cloaks in common. Beaumont has got the credit (though the younger man) of possessing the restraining judgment, and Fletcher the overflowing fancy and exuberant wit. There

A collection of Jonson's smaller poems.

can be no doubt, however, from the allusions of the Prologues and Commendatory Verses, that Fletcher had by far the larger share in the plays; and, if such a conjecture may be hazarded upon internal evidence, the bulk of the songs may be ascribed to him also. They are full of that luxuriance and beauty which distinguish the pieces known to have been written by him separately.]

I

Maidens, willow branches bear;
Say, I died true.

My love was false, but I was firm
From my hour of birth.

Upon my buried body lie
Lightly, gentle earth!

FICKLENESS.

COULD never have the power
To love one above an hour,

But my head would prompt mine eye
On some other man to fly.

Venus, fix thou mine eyes fast,

Or if not, give me all that I shall see at last.

THE ELDER BROTHER.*

THE STUDENT AWAKENED BY LOVE.

BEAUT

EAUTY clear and fair,
Where the air

Rather like a perfume dwells;

Where the violet and the rose
Their blue veins in blush disclose,
And came to honour nothing else.

* Ascribed to Fletcher.

Where to live near,

And planted there,

Is to live, and still live new;
Where to gain a favour is

More than light, perpetual bliss,-
Make me live by serving you.

Dear, again back recall
To this light,

A stranger to himself and all;
Both the wonder and the story
Shall be yours, and eke the glory:
I am your servant, and your thrall.

THE SPANISH CURATE.*

SPEAK, LOVE!†

EAREST, do not delay me,

DE

Since, thou knowest, I must be gone;
Wind and tide, 'tis thought, doth stay me,
But 'tis wind that must be blown

From that breath, whose native smell
Indian odours far excel.

Oh, then speak, thou fairest fair!

Kill not him that vows to serve thee;
But perfume this neighbouring air,‡

Else dull silence, sure, will starve me:
"Tis a word that's quickly spoken,

Which, being restrained, a heart is broken.

*By Fletcher.

This song, and that which immediately follows, not having appeared in the original edition of the Spanish Curate, were removed from the text by Mr. Colman. The authorship is, of course, doubtful; but the stage directions in the places in which they were inserted indicate that some songs were intended to be introduced by the authors; and, to whatever hand we are indebted for these, they are entitled to preservation in this collection.

This looks either like the authorship of Fletcher, or an intentional

LE

COUNTRY FEASTING.

ET the bells ring, and let the boys sing,
The young lasses skip and play;

Let the cups go round, 'till round goes the ground;
Our learned old vicar will stay.

Let the pig turn merrily, merrily, ah!
And let the fat goose swim;

For verily, verily, verily, ah!

Our vicar this day shall be trim.*

The stewed cock shall crow, cock-a-loodle-loo,
A loud cock-a-loodle shall he crow;

The duck and the drake shall swim in a lake
Of onions and claret below.

Our wives shall be neat, to bring in our meat
To thee our most noble adviser;

Our pains shall be great, and bottles shall sweat,
And we ourselves will be wiser.

We'll labour and swink,† we'll kiss and we'll drink, And tithes shall come thicker and thicker; We'll fall to our plough, and get children enow, And thou shalt be learnèd old vicar.

imitation. A similar passage occurs in a preceding song: Beauty clear and fair,

Where the air

Rather like a perfume dwells,' &c.

* Dibdin appears to have founded the burthen of a song in the Quaker on this verse:

'When the lads of the village shall merrily, ah,

Sound the tabors, I'll hand thee along;

And I say unto thee, that verily, ah!

Thou and I will be first in the throng.'

To work hard.