NICHOLAS BRETON.

Till they did for good and all.
Then she made the shepherd call
All the heavens to witness truth:
Never lov'd a truer youth.

Thus, with many a pretty oath,
Yea and nay, and faith and troth!
Such as silly shepherds use,
When they will not love abuse;
Love, which had been long deluded,
Was with kisses sweet concluded:
And Phillida, with garlands gay,
Was crown'd the lady of the May.

PHILLIS THE FAIR.

On a hill there grows a flower,
Fair befall the dainty sweet!
By that flower, there is a bower
Where the heavenly muses meet.

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Who would not that face admire!
Who would not this saint adore!
Who would not this sight desire,
Though he thought to see no more!

Thou that art the shepherds' queen,
Look upon thy love-sick swain;
By thy comfort, have been seen

Dead men brought to life again.

The two foregoing Pieces are the composition of NICHOLAS BRETON, whose poety is considerable, and of various merit; an imperfect copy of the former of these, together with his "Go, muse, rock me asleep," have been inserted by Percy into the third vol. of "Reliques," without his knowing who their author was. Playford, in his "Introduction to the Skill of Musick," 1665, quotes the first stanza of Phillida and Corydon, set to music, for two voices, with the attached signature, B. R. Nicholas Breton supplied the press with a rich diversity of ingenious compositions, for more than forty years. He was born in 1555; died, 1624.

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ANNE HATHAWAY.

WOULD you be taught, ye feather'd throng,
With love's sweet notes to grace your song,
To pierce the heart with thrilling lay,
Listen to mine Anne Hathaway!
She hath a way to sing so clear,
Phoebus might wondering stop to hear;

SHAKESPEARE.

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To melt the sad, make blithe the gay,
And nature charm, Anne hath a way;
She hath a way,

Anne Hathaway,

To breathe delight, Anne hath a way.

When envy's breath, and rancorous tooth,
Do soil and bite fair worth and truth,
And merit to distress betray,

To soothe the heart, Anne hath a way;
She hath a way to chase despair;
To heal all grief, to soothe all care,
Turn foulest night to fairest day,

Thou knowest, fond heart, Anne hath a way;

She hath a way,

Anne Hathaway;

To make grief bliss, Anne hath a way.

But were it to my fancy given,

To rate her charms, I'd call them heaven,
For though a mortal made of clay,
Angels must love Anne Hathaway;
She hath a way, so to controul,
To rapture the imprison'd soul,
And sweetest heaven on earth display,
That to be heaven, Anne hath a way;
She hath a way,

Anne Hathaway;

To be heaven's self, Anne hath a way.

The above is doubtfully ascribed to SHAKESPEARE, and purports to have been addressed to the lady he married: "To the idol of

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mine eyes, and the delight of mine heart, Anne Hathaway." This lady was eight years older than Shakespeare, but still only in her twenty-sixth year, when he married her" an age," says Dr. Drake, “ compatible with youth, and with the most alluring beauty."

WHY SO PALE.

WHY so pale and wan, fond lover?
Prethee, why so pale?

Will, when looking well, can't move her;

Looking ill, prevail?

Prethee, why so pale?

Why so dull and mute, young sinner?

Prethee, why so mute?

Will, when speaking well, can't win her;

Saying nothing, doe't?

Prethee, why so mute?

Quit, for shame! this will not move,

This cannot take her;

If of herself she will not love,

Nothing can make her:

The devil take her!

By Sir JOHN SUCKLING. This sprightly knight was born in 1613. He spoke Latin at five years of age, and wrote it when nine. He possessed a general knowledge of polite literature; but applied himself more particularly to music and poetry. In the

THOMAS CAREW.

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course of his foreign travels, he made a campaign under Gustavus Adolphus; and after his return, raised a splendid troop of horse at the expense of twelve thousand pounds, for the service of the king (Lloyd's Memoirs). This troop, with Sir John at its head, behaved so ill in their engagement with the Scots upon the English border, in 1639, as to occasion the famous lampoon by Sir John Mennis, "Sir John he got him an ambling nag, &c.” (Percy, II. 323,) which was set to an Irish tune, and much sung by the parliamentarians.

This disastrous expedition, says Nichols, and the ridicule that attended it, was supposed to have hastened his death, which happened in 1641, in the twenty-eighth or twenty-ninth year of his age. The whole of his works were published several times by Tonson, and in two neat volumes by Davis, in 1770.

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HE THAT LOVES A ROSY CHEEK.

He that loves a rosy cheek,
Or a coral lip admires,

Or from star-like eyes doth seek
Fuel to maintain his fires;
As old time makes these decay,
So his flames must waste away.

But a smooth and steadfast mind,
Gentle thoughts, and calm desires,
Hearts with equal love combin'd,
Kindle never-dying fires;
Where these are not, I despise

Lovely cheeks, or lips, or eyes.