His lambs were him beside ;

A widow turtle near on bared root
Sat wailing without boot.

Each thing both sweet and sad
Did draw his boiling brain,

To think, and think with pain,

Of Mira's beams eclips'd by absence bad.

*

O si sic omnia!

From a longer piece.

As I my little flock on Ister bank,

A little flock, but well my pipe they couth, Did piping lead, the sun already sank

Beyond our world, and e'er I got my booth, Each thing with mantle black the night did scoth : Saving the glow-worm, which would courteous be Of that small light oft watching shepherds see.

The welkin had full niggardly enclosed

In coffer of dark clouds his silver groats, Y'cleped stars; each thing to rest disposed,

The caves were full, the mountains void of goats.
The birds eyes closed, closed their chirping notes,
As for the nightingale, wood-music's king,
It August was, he deigned not then to sing.

Amid my sheep, though I saw naught to fear,
Yet, for I nothing saw, I feared sore:
Then found I which thing is a charge to bear,
As for my sheep I dreaded mickle more
Than ever for myself since I was bore.
I sat me down; for see to go ne could,
And sung unto my sheep lest stray they should.

M

1

The song I sang old Lanquet had me taught,
Lanquet, the shepherd best swift Ister knew,
For clerkly read, and hating what is naught,

For faithful heart, clean hands, and mouth as true;
With his sweet skill my skilless youth he drew,
To have a feeling taste of him that sits
Beyond the heaven, far more beyond our wits.

He said the music best thilk powers pleased,
Was jump concord between our wit and will;
Where highest notes to godliness are raised,

And lowest sink not down to jot of ill :

With old true tales he wont mine ears to fill, How shepherds were of yore, how now they thrive, Spoiling their flocks, the while 'twixt them they strive.

He liked me, but pitied lustful youth:

His good strong staff my slippery years upbore;
He still hoped well, because I loved truth:
"Till forced to part with heart and eyes e'en sore,
To worthy Corydon he gave me o'er;

But thus in oak's true shade recounted he,
Which now, in night's deep shade, sheep heard of me.

*. * * * * * * *

Hubert Languet, justly praised in this extract, was a Frenchman, born at Viteaux in 1518. He was converted to the protestant faith by reading the works of Melancthon, and afterwards entered into the service of the reformed princes of Germany. A series of his letters to Sir Philip Sidney is extant, which exhibits him to great advantage, as a profound scholar, a wise and prudent adviser, and a firm friend. He died at Antwerp in 1581, leaving behind him the character of being one of the most learned men, and ablest politieians of his time.

Sonnet.

Since nature's works be good, and death doth serve
As nature's work; why should we fear to die?
Since fear is vain, but when it may preserve;
Why should we fear that which we cannot fly?
Fear is more pain, than is the pain it fears,
Disarming human minds of native might:
While each conceit an ugly figure bears,

Which were not ill well viewed in reason's light.
Our owly eyes, which dimmed by passions be,
And scarce discern the dawn of coming day,
Let them be cleared, then shall we 'gin to see
Our life is but a step in dusty way;

And let us hold the bliss of peaceful mind:
Of this we feel, great loss we cannot find.
An Epithalamium.

Let mother earth now deck herself with flowers,
To see her offspring seek a good increase,
Where justest love doth vanquish Cupid's powers,
And war of thoughts is swallowed up in peace,
Which never may decrease,

But like the turtles fair,

Live one in two a well united pair;

Which that no chance may stain,

O Hymen long their coupled joys maintain.

O Heaven awake, shew forth thy stately face,"
Let not these slumbering clouds thy beauty hide,
But with thy cheerful presence help to grace
The honest bridegroom and the bashful bride,
Whose loves may ever bide,

Like to the elm and vine,

With mutual embraces them to twine:

In which delightful pain,

O Hymen long their coupled joys maintain

Ye muses all which chaste affects allow,

And have to Thyrsis shewed your secret skilf, To this chaste love your sacred favours bow, And so in him and her

your gifts distil That they all vice may kill:

And like to lillys pure,

May please all eyes, and spotless may endure. Where that all bliss may reign

O Hymen long their coupled joys maintain.

Ye nymphs that in the waters empire have,

Since Thyrsis music oft doth yield your praise, Grant us the thing which we for Thyrsis crave,

Let one time but long since close up their days, One grave their bodies seize ;

And like two rivers sweet

When they though divers, do together meet, One stream both streams contain :

O Hymen long their coupled joys maintain.

Pan, father Pan, the god of silly sheep,

Whose care is cause that they in number grow, Have much more care of them that them do keep, Since from these good the other's good doth flow, And make their issue show,

In number like the herd,

Of younglings which thyself with care hast reared. Or like the drops of rain

O Hymen long their coupled joys maintain.

Virtue, if not a god, yet god's chief part,

Be thou the knot of this their open vow; That still he be her head, she be his heart;

He lean to her, she up to him do bow:

Each other still allow;

Like oak and mistletoe,

Her strength from him, his praise from her do grow;

In which most lovely train

O Hymen long their coupled joys maintain.

But thou foul Cupid sire to lawless lust,

Be thou far hence with thy empoison'd dart, Which though of glittering gold shall here take rust, Where simple love, which chasteness doth impart, Avoids thy hurtful art,

Not needing charming skill

Such minds with sweet affections for to fill,

Which being pure and plain,

O Hymen long their coupled joys maintain.

All churlish words, shrewd answers, crabbed looks,
All privateness, self-seeking, inward spite,
All waywardness, which nothing kindly brooks,
All strife for toys, and claiming master's right.
Be hence aye put to flight:

All stirring husband's hate

'Gainst neighbour's good for womanish debate, Be fled as things most vain :

O Hymen long their coupled joys maintain.

All peacock pride, and fruits of peacock's pride,
Longing to be with loss of substance gay,
With recklessness what may the house betide,
So that they may on higher slippers stay,
Be ever hence away :

Yet let not sluttery

The sink of filth, be counted housewifery: But, keeping wholesome mean,

Hymen long their coupled joys maintain.