Take thou of me smooth pillows, sweetest bed;

A chamber deaf to noise and blind to light;

A rosy garland, and a weary head.
And if these things, as being thine by right,
Move not thy heavy grace, thou shalt in

me

Livelier than elsewhere Stella's image see.

MATTHEW ROYDON.

LAMENT FOR ASTROPHEL (SIR PHILIP SIDNEY),

You knew, who knew not Astrophel? That I should live to say I knew, And have not in possession still! Things known permit me to renew. Of him you know his merit such

7

Did never muse inspire beneath
A poet's brain with finer store.
He wrote of love with high conceit
And beauty reared above her height.

EDMUND SPENSER.

[1553-1599.]

ANGELIC MINISTRY.

AND is there care in Heaven? And is there love

In heavenly spirits to these creatures base, That may compassion of their evils move? There is, else much more wretched

were the case

Within these woods of Arcady

He chief delight and pleasure took;
And on the mountain Partheny,
Upon the crystal liquid brook,
The muses met him every day,
Taught him to sing, and write, and
say.

When he descended down the mount
His personage seemed most divine;
A thousand graces one might count
Upon his lovely, cheerful eyne.

And all his works with mercy doth embrace,

That blessed angels he sends to and fro, To serve to wicked man, to serve his wicked foe!

smile,

You were in Paradise the while.

A sweet, attractive kind of grace;
A full assurance given by looks;
Continual comfort in a face;
The lineaments of gospel books:

I trow that countenance cannot lie
Whose thoughts are legible in the eye.

Above all others this is he

Who erst approved in his song, That love and honor might agree, And that pure love will do no wrong. Sweet saints, it is no sin or blame To love a man of virtuous name.

Did never love so sweetly breathe In any mortal breast before: