At length the candle's out; and now, All that they had not done, they do; What that is, who can tell?

But I believe it was no more

Than thou and I have done before

With Bridget and with Nell.

SIR JOHN DENHAM,

Born in Dublin, 1615, entered, in 1631, gentleman-commoner at Trinity College, Oxford, where it is said he was chiefly addicted to gaming, and exhibited no signs of genius, and that his tragedy "the Sophy," which he wrote in 1641, and his beautiful poem on "Cooper's Hill," composed soon after, were received by the world with astonishment. Waller said " He broke out like the Irish Rebellion, threescore thousand strong, when no body was aware or in the least suspected it." Though but an indifferent soldier, his address and knowledge of mankind were often of service to Charles I. and after the restoration he was much admired by Charles II. who is said to have frequently suggested the subjects of his poetry. He died in 1668.

SONG.

[Out of an Epigram of Martial.]

PRITHEE, die and set me free,

Or else be

Kind and brisk, and gay, like me.

I pretend not to the wise ones,

To the grave, to the grave, Or the precise ones.

"Tis not cheeks, nor lips, nor eyes,

That I prize,

Quick conceits, or sharp replies;

If wise thou wilt appear, and knowing,

Repartee, repartee,

To what I'm doing.

Prithee, why the room so dark?

Not a spark

Left to light me to the mark.
I love daylight, or a candle,
And to see, and to see

As well as handle.

Why so many bolts and locks,

Coats and smocks,

And those drawers, with a pox?

I could wish, could nature make it,

Nakedness, nakedness

Itself were naked.

SONG.

SOMNUS, the humble god that dwells
In cottages and smoky cells,

Hates gilded roofs, and beds of down;
And, though he fears no prince's frown,
Flies from the circle of a crown.
Come, I say, thou powerful god,
And thy leaden charming rod,
Dipp'd in the Lethean lake,
O'er his wakeful temples shake,

Lest he should sleep, and never wake.

Nature, alas! why art thou so

Obliged to thy greatest foe?

Sleep, that is thy best repast,

Yet of death it bears a taste,
And both are the same thing at last.

JOHN TATHAM

Appears to have been one of the city poets, and was the author of four plays; of " Fancy's Theatre," a volume of poems, printed in 1640; and of " Ostella, or the Faction "of Love and Beauty reconciled," London, 1650, 4to. a very scarce volume, though not otherwise valuable. The following specimen, taken from the latter collection, is very near being elegant.

THE SWALLOW.

MARK, Ostella, when the spring
Hath dissolv'd the frosty king,
And re-seats herself on earth,
Giving flowers and plants a birth;
When the glorious sun doth shine
Full of heat, as do thy eyn;

Then, oh then, to us will come,
To our cottage, to our home,
An amorous guest, who will salute
You from the chimney-top, with flute-
like notes, when you least need the same:

To sing to you 'twill be on flame!