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Warming but as snow-balls do,
Not like fire, by burning too ;
· But when she by change hath got
To her heart a second lot,.
Then, if others share with me,
Farewell her, whate'er she be !

His Pilgrimaged.
Give me my scallop-shell of quiet,

My staff of faith to walk upon;
My scrip of joy, immortal diet ;

My bottle of salvation ; .
My gown of glory, (hope's true gage)
And thus I'll take my pilgrimage.

Blood must be my body's balmer,

No other balm will here be given,
Whilst my soul, like quiet palmer,

Travels to the land of heaven,
Over all the silver mountains,
Where do spring those nectar fountains :

And I there will sweetly kiss
The happy bowl of peaceful bliss,
Drinking mine eternal fill
Flowing on each milky hill.
My soul will be adry before,
But after, it will thirst no more.

In that happy, blissful day,

More peaceful pilgrims I shall see,
That have cast off their rags of clay,
And walk apparell'd fresh like me;

I'll take them first,

To slake their thirst; And then taste of nectar suckets, d This has been very much improved by following a copy in the MS. al- . ready qnoted, p. 716.

At those clear wells

Where sweetness dwells,
Drawn up by saints in crystal buckets.

And when our bottles and all we Are fill'd with immortality, Then those holy paths we'll travel Strew'd with rubies thick as gravel ; Ceilings of diamonds, sapphire floors, High walls of coral, and pearly bowers. From thence to heaven's bribeless hall, Where no corrupted voices brawl, No conscience molten into gold, No forg'd accuser bought or sold, No cause deferr'd, no vainspent journey; For there Christ is the King's attorney, Who pleads for all without degrees, And he hath angels, but no fees. And when the grand twelve million jury Of our sins, with direful fury, 'Gainst our souls black verdicts give, Christ pleads his death, and then we live. Be Thou my speaker, taintless pleader, Unblotted lawyer, true proceeder, Thou giv'st salvation even for alms, Not with a bribed lawyer's palms. Then this is mine eternal plea, To him that made heaven, earth, and sea, Seeing my flesh must die so soon, And want a head to dine next noon, Just at the stroke of death, my arms being spread, Set on my soul an everlasting head. So shall I ready, like a palmer fit, Tread those bless'd paths shown in thy holy writ. Of death and judgment, heaven and hell, Who oft doth think, must needs die welle!

« These two concluding lines not in the Rawlinson MS.

The Farewell. [The following poem has been given as written by Sir Walter Ralech,

the night before his execution ; but it had already appeared in “ Davison's “ Rhapsody," in 1608f; and is also to be found in a MS. collection of Poems in the British Museum, which has the date of 1596.]

Go, soul, the body's guest,

Upon a thankless errand;
Fear not to touch the best;

The truth shall be thy warrant.

" It is printed by.“ Davison” with many variations.

The Lie.
Go, soul, the body's guest,

Upon a thankless errand;
Fear not to touch the best;
The truth shall be thy warrant.

Go, since I needs must die,
And give the world the lie.

[blocks in formation]

Go, since I needs must die,
And give them all the lie.

Go, tell the court it glows,

And shines like painted wood; Go, tell the church it shews

What's good, but does no good.

Tell age it daily wasteth;

Tell honour how it alters;
Tell beauty how she blasteth;
Tell favour how it falters :

And as they shall reply,
Give every one the lie.

Tell wit how much it wrangles

In tickle points of niceness;
Tell wisdom she entangles
Herself in over-wiseness :
And when they do reply,
Straight give them both the lie.

Tell physic of her boldness;

Tell skill it is prevention;
Tell charity of coldness;
Tell law it is contention :

And as they do reply,
So give them still the lie.

Tell fortune of her blindness;

Tell nature of decay;
Tell friendship of unkindness;
Tell justice of delay:

And if they will reply,
Then give them all the lie.

Tell arts they have no soundness,

But vary by esteeming;
Tell schools they want profoundness,
And stand too much on seeming.

If arts and schools reply,
Give arts and schools the lie.

Tell faith it's fled the city;

Tell how the country erreth;
Tell manhood, shakes off pity;
Tell virtue, least preferred.

And if they do reply,
Spare not to give the lie.

So when thou hast, as I

Commanded thee, done blabbing;
Because to give the lie
Deserves no less than stabbing :

Stab at thee, he that will,
No stab thy soul can kill!

If court and church reply,
Give court and church the lie.

Tell potentates, they live

Acting, but I their actions!
Not lov’d, unless they give;
Nor strong, but by their factions.

If potentates reply,
Give potentates the lie.

Tell men of high condition,

That rule affairs of state,
Their purpose is ambition ;
Their practice only hate.
And if they do reply,
Then give them all the lie.

Tell those that brave it most,

They beg for more by spending;
Who in their greatest cost
Seek nothing but commending.

And if they make reply,
Spare not to give the lie.

Tell zeal it lacks devotion ;

Tell love it is but lust;
Tell time it is but motion;
Tell flesh it is but dust :

And wish them not reply,
For thou must give the lie.

Tell age it daily wasteth;

Tell honour how it alters ;
Tell beauty that it blasteth ;
Tell favour that she falters :

And as they do reply,
Give every one the lie.

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