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Then call'd he Neptune, who through all the noise, Knew with affright his wrack'd Leander's voice, And up he rose; for haste his forehead hit

'Gainst Heaven's hard crystal; his proud waves he

smit

With his fork'd sceptre, that could not obey;

Much greater powers than Neptune's gave them sway. They lov'd Leander so, in groans they brake

When they came near him; and such space did take "Twixt one another, loath to issue on,

That in their shallow furrows earth was shown,
And the poor lover took a little breath:
But the curst Fates sat spinning of his death
On every wave, and with the servile winds
Tumbled them on him. And now Hero finds,
By that she felt, her dear Leander's state,
She wept and pray'd for him to every Fate;
And every wind that whipp'd her with her hair
About the face, she kiss'd and spake it fair,
Kneel'd to it, gave it drink out of her eyes
To quench his thirst: but still their cruelties
E'en her poor torch envíed, and rudely beat
The 'bating flame from that dear food it eat :
Dear, for it nourish'd her Leander's life,

Which, with her robe she rescued from their strife :
But silk too soft was, such hard hearts to break ;
And she, dear soul, e'en as her silk, faint, weak,
Could not preserve it: out, O out it went.
Leander still call'd Neptune, that now rent

His brackish curls, and tore his wrinkled face,
Where tears in billows did each other chase,
And burst with ruth ;—he hurl'd his marble mace
At the stern Fates; it wounded Lachesis
That drew Leander's thread, and could not miss
The thread itself, as it her hand did hit,
But smote it full, and quite did sunder it.
The more kind Neptune rag'd, the more he rased
His love's life's fort, and kill'd as he embrac'd.
Anger doth still his own mishap increase ;
If any comfort live, it is in peace.

O thievish Fates, to let blood, flesh, and sense,
Build two fair temples for their excellence,
To rob it with a poison'd influence.

Though souls' gifts starve, the bodies are held dear
In ugliest things; sense-sport preserves a bear,
But here nought serves our turns: O Heaven and earth,
How most most wretched is our human birth!-
And now did all the tyrannous crew depart,
Knowing there was a storm in Hero's heart,
Greater than they could make, and scorn'd their smart.
She bow'd herself so low out of her tower,

That wonder 'twas she fell not ere her hour,
With searching the lamenting waves for him;
Like a poor snail, her gentle supple limb
Hung on her turret's top, so most downright,
As she would dive beneath the darkness quite,
To find her jewel :-jewel!-her Leander,
A name of all earth's jewels pleas'd not her
Like his dear name; "Leander, still my choice,
Come nought but my Leander! O, my voice,

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Turn to Leander! Henceforth be all sounds, Accents, and phrases, that show all griefs' wounds, Analyz'd in Leander. O black change!

Trumpets, do you with thunder of your clange,
Drive out this change's horror-my voice faints:
Where all joy was, now shriek out all complaints."
Thus cried she; for her mix'd soul could tell

Her love was dead: and when the morning fell
Prostrate upon the weeping earth for woe,
Blushes, that bled out of her cheeks, did show,
Leander brought by Neptune, bruis'd and torn,
With cities' ruins he to rocks had worn;

To filthy usuring rocks, that would have blood,
Though they could get of him no other good.
She saw him, and the sight was much, much more
Than might have serv'd to kill her; should her store
Of giant sorrows speak?-Burst,- die,-bleed,
And leave poor plaints to us that shall succeed.
She fell on her Love's bosom, hugg'd it fast,
And with Leander's name she breath'd her last!

Neptune for pity in his arms did take them,
Flung them into the air, and did awake them
Like two sweet birds, surnam'd th' Acanthides,
Which we call Thistle-warps, that near no seas
Dare ever come, but still in couples fly,
And feed on thistle tops, to testify

The hardness of their first life in their last;
The first, in thorns of love, that sorrows past:
And so most beautiful their colours show,
As none (so little) like them; her sad brow

A sable velvet feather covers quite,

E'en like the forehead cloth that in the night,
Or when they sorrow, ladies us'd to wear:

Their wings, blue, red, and yellow, mix'd appear;
Colours, that as we construe colours, paint
Their states to life;-the yellow shows their saint,
The dainty Venus, left them; blue, their truth;
The red and black, ensigns of death and ruth.
And this true honour from their love-death sprung,
THEY WERE THE FIRST THAT EVER POET SUNG†.

*The forehead cloth was a bandage used to prevent wrinkles. +"Chapman," says a former editor of this poem, "alludes to the Hero and Leander' of Musæus the grammarian, which he here, as well as in the title to his rare translation of that poem (12mo. 1616), ascribes to the traditionary Musæus, the son of Linus. The mistake, however, is not to be regretted, since it produced the above most poetical close to this sweet song."

27

VOL. II.

The following song, which is quoted in "The Merry Wives of Windsor," has been ascribed to Shakespeare on the authority of the publisher of a collection of small poems, entitled, "The Passionate Pilgrim, and Sonnets to sundry notes of music, by William Shakespeare: London, printed for W. Jaggard, 1599." Jaggard, however, is not an authority to be relied upon, for although his collection contains many of Shakespeare's genuine productions, it also includes several pieces which are not his. In an enlarged edition, published in 1602, he added two pieces written by Thomas Heywood, who complains of the circumstance in his "Apology for Actors." Izaak Walton ascribes it to Marlowe under the character of" that smooth song which was made by Kit Marlowe;" and England's Helicon contains a poem "In imitation of C. Marlowe," beginning thus, "Come live with me and be my dear." This imitation was written by Sir Walter Raleigh, who also wrote " The Nymph's Reply," to Marlowe's song. Marlowe himself quotes the first line of his song in the Jew of Malta,' Act iv. Scene 4.

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SONG.

"Come, live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,

That grove or valley, hill or field,

Or wood and steepy mountain yield.

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