CCLIX.

THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE.

Come, live with me, and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dale and field,
And all the craggy mountains yield.

There will we sit upon the rocks,
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls,
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

There will I make thee beds of roses,
With a thousand fragrant posies,

A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle ;

A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Slippers lined choicely for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;

A belt of straw and ivy-buds;
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Then live with me, and be my love.

The shepherd swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning :
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me, and be my love.

CCLX.

THE NYMPH'S REPLY.*

If that the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee, and be thy love.

* The first of these two beautiful Madrigals was written by Christopher Marlowe, the second by Sir Walter Raleigh, although both have sometimes been ascribed to the pen of Shakespeare. In The Merry Wives of Windsor, Act 3d, Scene 1st, The Passionate Shepherd is quoted, but Shakespeare frequently made his characters sing or recite scraps of ballads, &c., that were popular at the time. Of course, he never claimed any of the pieces so introduced as his own. It is also well known that this sublime Genius was, of all men, the most indifferent as to his poetical fame, and that he suffered his plays to be printed without giving himself the smallest concern about them. Hence, it is supposed, many interpolations were foisted in by the players, and many words altered, through the ignorance or inadvertency of printers, which have given rise to so many different readings, and caused such difference of opinion amongst his critics and commentators.

But Time drives flocks from field to fold,
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold;
And Philomel becometh dumb;
And all complain of cares to come.

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter reckoning yields:
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,

Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.

In The Passionate Pilgrime and Sonnets to sundry notes of Musicke, by William Shakespeare, London, printed for W. Jaggard, 1599," four stanzas of The Passionate Shepherd also occur, with the first of the Reply; but these might have been inserted without Shakespeare's knowing anything of the matter, and this circumstance, of its being printed with his name, and during his lifetime, though it might be considered as conclusive in the case of others, cannot be held so in his. Besides this, in the old Poetical Miscellany, styled England's Helicon, we find the first printed with the name of Marlowe subjoined to it, and the second signed " Ignoto," a signature well known to be that which Raleigh frequently made use of when a young man. Mr. Malone, in his excellent edition of Shakespeare's works, rejects them as not belonging to his author. We shall close our observations on this head by citing a passage from Isaac Walton corroborative of them. In his Compleat Angler, both the Pastorals are inserted under the character "of that smooth song which was made by Kit Marlowe, now at least fifty years ago, and an answer to it, which was made by Sir Walter Raleigh in his younger days. Old-fashioned poetry, but chiefly good-much better than the strong lines now in fashion in this critical age."

Marlowe was a man of great genius, and, with the exception of Shakespeare, his contemporary, was certainly the first dramatic writer of his time. The circumstances attending his death were melancholy. Like many of the genus irritabile, he was addicted to dissipation, and the victim of his own headlong passions. In 1593 he was killed in a brothel by an ill-looking fellow, his rival in the affections of some doxy. Marlowe, in a paroxysm of jealousy and revenge, had attempted to stab him, but the fellow, seizing his hand, forced him to plunge the dagger into his own head.

Regarding the persecution, sufferings, and ultimate fate of the brave, learned, and unfortunate Sir Walter Raleigh, it is unnecessary to speak. With these the general reader must already be familiar.

Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies,
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten,
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.

Thy belt of straw, and ivy buds,
Thy coral clasps, and amber studs ;
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee, and be thy love.

But could youth last, and love still breed,
Had joys no date, nor age no need,
Then those delights my mind might move
To live with thee, and be thy love.

CCLXI.

MAIDEN! WRAP THY MANTLE ROUND THEE.

Maiden! wrap thy mantle round thee,
Cold the rain beats on thy breast;
Why should horror's voice astound thee,
Death can bid the wretched rest.

All under the tree,
Thy bed may be,

And thou may'st slumber peacefully.

Maiden! once gay pleasures knew thee,
Now thy cheeks are pale and deep,

Love has been a felon to thee;

Yet, poor maiden, do not weep:

There's rest for thee,

All under the tree,

Where thou wilt sleep most peacefully.

CCLXII.

THE ERLE-KING.*

O! who rides by night through the woodlands so wild?
It is the fond father, embracing his child,

And close the boy nestles within his lov'd arm,
From the blast of the tempest to keep himself warm.

* It is necessary the reader should be informed that in the legends of Danish superstition, certain mischievious spirits are supposed to preside over the different elements, and to amuse themselves with inflicting calamities on