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such a supposition; and from the mention of her name, but in one song, should imagine her not to be Lucasta, but one of those "of the female sex who admired and adored him." I cannot however but admit that there appears to me a strong resemblance between this portrait and the print of Lucasta engraved by Faithorne from a picture of Lely. This last Mr. Granger considers as imaginary from the words "P. Lilly invt.” I apprehend, however, that this might apply to the costume and accompaniments of the figure, which would hardly have occupied the pencil of Lily, had it been altogether invention. In the collection of "Elegies, sacred to the memory of the author, by several of his friends," subjoined to this volume is a contribution also from another brother under the signature of T. L.

E. V. U.

Feb. 18, 1809.

ART. VI. Old Madrigals.

From "Bateson's English Madrigals." 1604,

"Your shining eyes and golden hair,

Your lily-rosed lips most fair,
Your other beauties that excel,

Men cannot chuse but like them well:
But when for them they say they 'll die,
Believe them not, they do but lie."

If Love be blind, how hath he then the sight
With beauty's beams my careless heart to wound?
Or if a boy, how hath he then the might

The mightiest conquerors to bring to ground?

O no,

O no, he is not blind, but I that led

My thoughts the ways that bring to restless fears; Nor yet a boy, but I that live in dread,

Mixed with hope, and seek for joy in tears."

"Who prostrate lies at women's feet,
And calls them darlings, dear and sweet;
Protesting love, and craving grace,
And praising oft a foolish face;

Are oftentimes deceived at last;
They catch at nought, and hold it fast."

From "An Howre's Recreation in Musicke, by Rich. Alison." 1606.

"O heavy heart, whose harms are hid, Thy help is hurt, thy hap is hard;

If thou should'st break, as God forbid,

Then should desert want his reward. Hope well to have, hate not sweet thought, Foul cruel storms fair calms have brought, After sharp showers the sun shines fair, Hope comes likewise after despair."

In hope a king* doth go to war,

In hope a lover lives full long,
In hope a merchant sails full far,

In hope just men do suffer wrong;
In hope the plowman sows his seed;
Thus hope helps thousands at their need:
Then faint not heart, among the rest,
Whatever chance, hope thou the best,

See Ellis's Specimens.
P 4


Though wit bids will to blow retreat,

Will cannot work as wit would wish.
When that the roach doth taste the bait,
Too late to warn the hungry fish;
When cities burn on fiery flame,
Great rivers scarce may quench the same;
If will and fancy be agreed,

Too late for wit to bid take heed,

But yet it seems a foolish drift

To follow will and leave the wit; The wanton horse that runs too swift,

May well be stay'd upon the bit;
But check a horse amid his race,
And out of doubt you mar his pace:
Though wit and reason do[th] men teach,
Never to climb above their reach."

"From the same.

"There is a garden in her face,

Where roses and white lilies grow,
A heav'nly paradise is that place

Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow:
There cherries grow that none may buy,
Till cherry ripe themselves do cry.
Those cherries fairly do inclose

Of orient pearl a double row,
Which, when her lovely laughter shows,

They look like rose-buds fill'd with snow :
Yet them. no peer nor prince may buy,
Till cherry ripe themselves do cry.
Her eyes like angels watch them still,

Her brows like bended bows do stand, Threat'ning with piercing frowns to kill All that approach with eye or hand,


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From the Phænix Nest.1593. « Sweet violets, Love's * paradise, that spread

Your gracious odours, which you couched bear

Within your paly faces
Upon the gentle wing of some calm-breathing wind

That plays amidst the plain,

If by the favour of propitious stars you gain
Such grace as in my lady's bosom place to find,

Be proud to touch those places,
And when her warmth your moisture forth doth wear,
Whereby her dainty parts are sweetly fed,

You honours of the flow'ry meads, I pray,

You pretty daughters of the earth and sun,
With mild and seemly breathing straight display

My bitter sighs that have my heart undone.
Vermilion roses, that with new days rise,
Display your crimson folds fresh looking fair,

Whose radiant bright disgraces
The rich-adorned rays of roseat-rising morn,

Ah! if her virgin hand

Do pluck you pure, ere Phæbus view the land,
And veil your gracious pomp in lovely Nature's scorn,

If chance my mistress traces
Fast by your flow'rs to take the summer's air,
Then woful blushing tempt her glorious eyes,
To spread their tears, Adonis' death reporting,

And tell Love's torments sorrowing for her friend,
Whose drops of blood within your leaves consorting

Report fair Venus' moans withouten end.
Then may remorse, in pitying of my smart,
Dry up my tears, and dwell within her heart."
* See Ellis's Specimens.


From "Morley's Canzonets." 1597

"When lo! by break of morning,
My love her self adorning,
Doth walk the woods so dainty,

Gach'ring sweet violets and cowslips plenty,
The birds enamour'd, sing and praise my Flora,
Lo! here a new Aurora!"

From "Willye's Madrigals." 1598.

"Flora gave me fairest flowers,

None so fair in Flora's treasure;
These I plac'd on Phillis' bowers,
She was pleas'd, and she my pleasure:
Smiling meadows seem to say,
Come, ye wantons, here to play."

"Ye restless thoughts that harbour discontent,
Cease your assaults, and let my heart lament,
And let my tongue have leave to tell my grief;
That she may pity, though not grant relief:
Pity would help what Love hath almost slain,
And salve the wound that fester'd this disdain."

From "Weelkes's Ballets and Madrigals." 1598.

"Sweet Love, I will no more abuse thee,

Nor with my [wanton] voice accuse thee,
But tune my notes unto thy praise,
And tell the world, Love ne'er decays;
Sweet Love doth concord ever cherish,
What wanteth concord soon doth perish."

Sweet heart, arise, why do you sleep
When lovers wanton sports do keep?


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