[Imitation of Marlow.] [In "England's Helicon" it succeeds the copy printed in p. 222 of this vol. and is entitled "Another of the same "nature made since."] COME live with me and be my dear, In plains and groves, on hills and dales, There shall you have the beauteous pine, The seat for your disport shall be Over some river, in a tree, Where silver sands and pebbles sing Eternal ditties with the spring. There shall you see the nymphs at play, The birds with heavenly-tuned throats, Which to your senses will impart Upon the bare and leafless oak, In bowers of laurel trimly dight, Ten thousand glow-worms shall attend, And all their sparkling lights shall spend, All to adorn and beautify Your lodging with most majesty. Then in mine arms will I enclose Thus, as we pass the welcome night If these may serve for to entice ["Ignoto," the printed subscription.] TIMOTHY KENDALL Was born at North Aston, in Oxfordshire, successively educated at Eton and at Oxford, and afterwards a student of the law at Staple-inn. He published, in 1577, “Flowers "of Epigrammes, out of sundrie the moste singular au"thours selected," &c. In this publication appeared the following verses translated from Walter Haddon's Latin poems, 1567. Kendall thought it essential to the diffusion of matrimonial felicity, that such an epitome of the whole duty of married persons should not be locked up in a learned language. The following specimens are inserted, not for their poetical merit, but on account of the curious picture of ancient manners which they exhibit. PRECEPTS OF WEDLOCK. The Husband's Request. My wife, if thou regard mine ease, Care how thy children up to bring. Let still thine house be neat and fine. Let manners thine be pleasant still Let no spot be thereon to spy. Let him likewise be lik'd of thee. That which I say in company If aught I speak that likes not thee, Whatso in secret I thee tell, Reveal not, but conceal it well. Think not strange wives do make me warm. When I thee hurt, shew me thy harm. Confess when-so thou dost offend. 1 Chide not to bed-ward when we wend. |