THE LOVER'S LEGACY TO HIS CRUEL MISTRESS. Go, happy heart! for thou shalt lie Intombed in her for whom I die, Example of her cruelty. Tell her, if she chance to chide If a tear escape her eye, Your body was the sacred shrine, Your cruel mind the power divine, THE WARNING OF ORPHEUS. ORPHEUS I am, come from the deeps below, To thee, fond man, the plagues of love to show. To the fair fields where loves eternal dwell There's none that come, but first they pass through hell: Hark! how they groan that died despairing! Hark, how they howl for over-daring! All these were men. They that be fools, and die for fame, They lose their name; *Ascribed to Fletcher. Now in cold frosts, now scorching fires They sit, and curse their lost desires; Nor shall these souls be free from pains and fears, "Till women waft them over in their tears. TO VENUS. OH, fair sweet goddess, queen of loves, Soft and gentle as thy doves, Star of dear content and pleasure, Thou continual youth and spring; Grant this lady her desires, And every hour we'll crown thy fires. THE BATTLE OF PELUSIUM. ARM, arm, arm, arm! the scouts are all come in; Keep your ranks close, and now your honours win. Behold from yonder hill the foe appears; Bows, bills, glaves, arrows, shields, and spears! The * One of the commentators proposes to read cloud for wood. These emendations are very provoking, because they are supported by a certain show of reason. But the writers of this hurricane song were not thinking of the literal reason of the matter, but of the suggestiveness of the image. And they have succeeded better than their critic. coming of the dark wood is grander than the cloud. The rout and uproar of battle are admirably depicted. There are few specimens of this kind in these Dramatic Songs. The most animated and picturesque is a Sea-fight by Dryden. See how the arrows fly, Tara, tara, tara, tara, tara! Hark how the horses charge! in, boys, boys, in! Oh, how they die! Room for the valiant Memnon, armed with thunder! To the rocks, to the floods, They fly for succour. Follow, follow, follow! B THE LOYAL SUBJECT.* THE BROOM-MAN'S SONG. ROOM, broom, the bonny broom! In the wars we have no more room, For a kiss take two; If those will not do, For a little, little pleasure, THE FALSE ONE. Isis. TO CESAR AND CLEOPATRA ON THE NILE. SIS, the goddess of this land, ISIS, Bids thee, great Cæsar, understand And give his proud heads leave to play; His matchless wealth in overflow. Labourers. Come, let us help the reverend Nile; Come, old father, come away! Enter Nilus. Isis. Here comes the agèd river now, All things take life, and all things grow: Hear him; and next there will advance Mark them too; and you have a feast. Nilus comes flowing to you all Now the plants and flowers shall spring, Bread, and wine, and everything. And each hand bring a sacrifice. And treasures that can ne'er be told, THE DRAMATISTS. 10 |