crepancy, all the more for the impressive plainness and simplicity of the Presbyterian mode of worship, and the earnest eloquence of the white-haired preacher. The sermon was half over before I had recovered the tone of feeling proper to the place and the occasion. Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise But might I of Love's nectar sup I sent thee late a rosy wreath, 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. Egla. Here she was wont to go! and here! and here! Her treading would not bend a blade of grass, And where she went the flowers took thickest root, This delightful pastoral on the story of Robin Hood and Maid Marian is unhappily unfinished. Scarcely half is written, and even that wants the author's last touches. SPEECH OF MAIA, IN THE PENATES. If every pleasure were distilled Of every flower in every field, And all that Hybla's hives do yield, Or spirit that Zephyr ever blew, Your so desired, though grieved, pain. For we will have the wanton Fawns, To dance their wilder rounds about, That stream from tops of those less hills, New flowers, that shall see to grow, you Of which each hand a part shall take, And, for your heads, fresh garlands make Wherewith, whilst they your temples round, An air of several birds shall sound An Io Pæan, that shall drown The acclamations at your crown. All this, and more than I have gift of saying, May vows, so you will oft come here a Maying. EPITAPH ON THE COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE. Underneath this sable hearse Lies the subject of all verse, Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother; Death, ere thou hast slain another After all we take leave of him, transcribing yet another exquisite song, and echoing our first words, "O rare Ben Jonson ! 66 V. FASHIONABLE POETS. WILLIAM ROBERT SPENCER. GRANDSON of two dukes, nursed in the very lap of fashion, and coming into life at the time of all others when wit and fancy, and the lighter graces of poetry, were most cordially welcomed by the higher circles at a time when the star of Sheridan was still in the ascendant, and that of Moore just appearing on the horizon-William Spencer may be regarded as much the representative of a class, as John Clare, or Robert Burns. The style of his verse eminently airy, polished, and graceful, as well as his personal qualities, combined to render him the idol of that society which, by common consent, we are content to call the best. His varied accomplishments enlivened a country-house, his brilliant wit formed the delight of a dinner table; while his |