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Holy vows, but heart unholy;
Wretched man! my trust was folly!
What shall guide me in this durance,
Since in love is no assurance.

Siren pleasant, foe to reason,
Cupid plague thee for this treason !

Prime youth lasts not, age will follow,
And make white, those tresses yellow:
Wrinkled face, for looks delightful,
Shall acquaint thee, dame despightful!
And, when time shall date thy glory,
Then, too late, thou wilt be sorry.

Siren pleasant, foe to reason,
Cupid plague thee for this treason!

GEORGE CHAPMAN

Was bom in 1557, and died in 1654 ; but of this long life few

anecdotes are preserved. That he was a man of uncommon learning, and considerable genius, appears from his translation of the whole works of Homer, and some parts of Hesiod and Musæus. Of seventeen pieces, which he composed for the theatre, three are said to possess a great degree of merit; viz.“ Bussy d'Amboise," a tragedy; the “Wi“ dow's Tears,” a comedy; and his “ Masque for the “ Inns of Court."--The specimen here given from his continuation of Marlowe's “ Hero and Leander,” may give a faint idea of his style, which is generally spirited, but often irregular and obscure.

EPITH ALAMION.

Come, come, dear nymph, love's mart of blisses,

Sweet close of this ambitious line,
The fruitful summer of his blisses;

Love's glory does in darkness shine.
O come, soft rest of cares! come, right,

Come, naked virtue's only ’tire,
That reapest harvest of the light,
Bound

up

in sheaves of sacred fire.

Love calls to war;

Sighs, his alarms,
Lips, his swords are,

The field, his arms.

Come night, and lay thy velvet hand

On glorious day's out-facing face; And all thy crowned flames command For torches to our nuptial grace.

Love calls to war, &c.

No need have we of factious day,

To cast, in envy of thy peace,
Herbals of discord in thy way;
Her beauty’s day doth never cease

Love calls to war, &c.

The evening star I see :

Rise, youths, the evening star
Helps love to summon war.

Both now embracing be!

Rise, youths! love's rite claims more than banquets,

rise! Now the bright marigold, that decks the skies, Phæbus' celestial flowers, that contrary To his flowers here) ope when he shuts his eyes,

And shuts when he does open, crown your sports.
Now, love in night, and night in love, exhorts
Courtship and dances; all your parts employ,
And suit night's rich expansure with your joy;
Love paints his longings in sweet virgin's eyes;
Rise, youths! love's rite claims more than banquets,

rise !

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WILLIAM WARNER.

The time of this author's birth is unknown, but it may pro

bably be placed about 1558; which supposes him to have published his first work at the age of 25. He is said to have been an attorney of the Common Pleas, and to have died in 1608-9, at Amwell, in Hertfordshire, “ a man of good

years, and of honest reputation. His first work was “ Syrinx, a seven-fold history,” &c. first

licensed in 1584; and he is said to have been a translator of Plautus; but his principal work was his “ Albion's Eng“ land," first printed, says Mr. Warton, in 1592 ; though

this, according to Ames, was only the third edition. The astonishing popularity of this poem, which, by Warner's

contemporaries, was even preferred to their favourite “ Mirror “ for Magistrates," is a proof that he possessed the most valuable talent of a poet, that of amusing and interesting his readers. This he effected partly by means of numerous episodes, which are always iively, though not always to the purpose, and partly by means of a style which, at the time, was thought highly elegant, and which certainly possesses

the merit of uncommon ease and simplicity. Two of his most striking episodes, viz. “ Argentile and

“ Curan,” and the “ Patient Countess," have already appeared in the “ Muses' Library,” and in the “ Reliques « of Ancient English Poetry.” Another, the “ Romance of “ Sir J. Mandeville,” is too long for insertion in a miscellany, but perhaps the following may have a chance of pleasing from their singularity.

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