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JOSHUA SYLVESTER,

In his earliest publication styles himself a merchant adventurer. Wood could not discover whether he had received an academical education, but has borne testimony to his knowledge of the French, Spanish, Dutch, Italian, and Latin languages. His moral conduct, his piety, and his patience, appear to have been exemplary: nor was any writer honoured with more contemporary praise: but his country is said to have treated him with ingratitude, and he died at Middleburgh in 1618, aged 55.

The works of this laborious but unequal writer were successively printed in various forms, and collected into a large volume in folio, printed in 1621, 1633, and 1641. They consist principally of translations. In p. 652 of the latter edition, is printed the "Soul's Errand," which has been attributed to Sir Walter Raleigh under the title of "The Lie," and asserted to have been written by him on the night before his execution, Oct. 29, 1618; but this assertion is utterly incredible, as the poem appeared in Davison's "Poetical Rhapsodie" ten years before. Till a more authorized claimant shall be produced, it is therefore restored to its ancient proprietor.

A Caution for Courtly Damsels.

BEWARE, fair maid, of mighty courtiers' oaths; Take heed what gifts or favours you receive;

Let not the fading gloss of silken cloaths

Dazzle your virtues, or your fame bereave:

For once but leave the hold you have of grace,
Who will regard your fortune or your face?

Each greedy hand will strive to catch the flower,
When none regard the stalk it grows upon;
Baseness desires the fruit still to devour,

And leaves the tree to fall or stand alone;
But this advice, fair creature, take of me,
Let none take fruit unless he'll have the tree.

Believe not oaths, nor much-protesting men;
Credit no vows nor a bewailing song;
Let courtiers swear, forswear, and swear again,

The heart doth live ten regions from the tongue: For when with oaths and vows they make you tremble,

Believe them least; for then they most dissemble.

A contented Mind.

I WEIGH not Fortune's frown or smile,
I joy not much in earthly joys;
I seek not state, I reck not stile,
I am not fond of fancy's toys;

I rest so pleas'd with what I have,
I wish no more, no more I crave.

I quake not at the thunder's crack,
I tremble not at noise of war,
I swoon not at the news of wrack,
I shrink not at a blazing star:
I fear not loss, I hope not gain;
I envy none, I none disdain.

I see ambition never pleas'd,

I see some Tantals starv'd in store;

I see gold's dropsy seldom eas'd,

I see e'en Midas gape for more. I neither want, nor yet abound: Enough's a feast; content is crown'd.

I feign not friendship where I hate,
I fawn not on the great in show,
I prize, I praise a mean estate,
Neither too lofty nor too low;
This, this is all my choice, my cheer,
A mind content, a conscience clear.

The Soul's Errand.

Go, soul, the body's guest,
Upon a thankless errand!
Fear not to touch the best,
The truth shall be thy warrant;
Go, since I needs must die,
And give the world the lie.

Go, tell the court it glows,

And shines like rotten wood, Go, tell the church it shows What's good, and doth no good: If church and court reply, Then give them both the lie.

Tell potentates, they live

Acting by others actions,

Not lov'd unless they give,
Not strong but by their factions.

If potentates reply,
Give potentates the lie.

Tell men of high condition

That rule affairs of state,

Their purpose is ambition,

Their practice only hate.

And if they once reply,
Then give them all the lie.

Tell them that brave it most,

They beg for more by spending, Who in their greatest cost, Seek nothing but commending. And if they make reply, Then give them all the lie.

Tell zeal it lacks devotion,
Tell love it is 'but lust,
Tell time it is but motion,
Tell flesh it is but dust;
And wish them not reply,
For thou must give the lie.

Tell age it daily wasteth,

Tell honour how it alters, Tell beauty how she blasteth, Tell favour how she falters. And as they shall reply, Give every one the lie.

Tell wit how much it wrangles
In tickle points of niceness:

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