Which still he blew and kindled busily,
That soone they life conceiv'd, and forth in flames
Next after him went Doubt, who was yclad
In a discolour'd cote of straunge disguyse,
That at his backe a brode capuccio had,
And sleeves dependaunt Albanese-wyse ;
He lookt askew with his mistrustfull eyes,
And nycely trode, as thornes lay in his way,
Or that the flore to shrinke he did avyse ;
And on a broken reed he still did stay
His feeble steps, which shrunck when hard thereon
With him went Daunger, cloth'd in ragged weed Made of beares skin, that him more dreadfull
Yet his owne face was dreadfull, ne did need
Straunge horrour to deforme his griesly shade :
A net in th' one hand, and a rusty blade
In th’ other was; this mischiefe, that mishap;
With th' one his foes he threatned to invade,
With th' other he his friends ment to enwrap :
For whom he could not kill he practised to entrap.
Next him was Feare, all arm'd from top to toe,
Yet thought himselfe not safe enough thereby,
But feard each shadow moving to or froe;
And, his owne armes when glittering he did spy
Or clashing heard, he fast away did fly,
As ashes pale of hew, and winged heeld ;
And evermore on Daunger fixt his eye,
'Gainst whom he alwayes bent a brasen shield,
Which his right hand unarmed fearefully did wield.
With him went Hope in rancke, a handsome mayd,
Of chearefull looke and lovely to behold ;
In silken samite she was light arayd,
And her fayre lockes were woven up in gold :
She alway smyld, and in her hand did hold
An holy-water-sprinckle, dipt in deowe,
With which she sprinckled favours manifold
On whom she list, and did great liking sheowe,
Great liking unto many, but true love to feowe.
And after them Dissemblaunce and Suspect
Marcht in one rancke, yet an unequall paire ;
For she was gentle and of milde aspect,
Courteous to all and seeming debonaire,
Goodly adorned and exceeding faire ;
Yet was that all but paynted and purloynd,
And her bright browes were deckt with borrowed
haire; Her deeds were forged, and her words false coynd, And alwaies in her hand two clewes of silke she
twynd:
But he was fowle, ill favoured, and grim,
Under his eiebrowes looking still askaunce;
And ever, as Dissemblaunce laught on him,
He lowrd on her with daungerous eye-glaunce,
Shewing his nature in his countenaunce ;
His rolling eis did never rest in place,
But walkte each where for feare of hid mischaunce,
Holding a lattis still before his face,
Through which he stil did peep as forward he did
pace.
Next him went Grief and Fury, &c. &c.
A SPOUSALL VERSE. CALME was the day, and through the trembling
ayre Sweete-breathing Zephyrus did softly play A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay Hot Titan's beames, which then did glister fayre ; When I, (whom (whose) sullein care, Through discontent of my long fruitlesse stay In princes court, and expectation vayne Of idle hopes, which still doe fly away, Like empty shadowes, did afflict my brayne) Walkt forth to ease my payne Along the shoare of silver streaming Themmes ; Whose rutty bank, the which his river hemmes, Was paynted all with variable flowers, And all the meades adornd with dainty gemmes, Fit to decke maydens bowres, And crowne their paramours Against the brydale-day, which is not long : Sweet Themmes ! runne softly, till I end my song.
There, in a meadow, by the rivers side,
A flock of nymphes I chaunced to espy,
All lovely daughters of the flood thereby,
With goodly greenish locks, all loose untyde,
As each had bene a bryde ;
And each one had a little wicker basket,
Made of fine twigs, entrayled curiously,
In which they gathered flowers to fill their flasket,
And with fine fingers cropt full feateously
The tender stalkes on hye.
Of every sort, which in that meadow grew,
They gathered some; the violet, pallid blew,
The little dazie, that at evening closes,
The virgin lillie, and the primrose trew,
With store of vermeil roses,
To deck their bridegroomes posies,
Against the brydale-day, which was not long :
Sweet Themmes ! runne softlie, till I end my song.
With that I saw two swannes of goodly hewe
Come softly swimming downe along the lee;
Two fairer birds I yet did never see;
The snow, which doth the top of Pindus strew,
Did never whiter shew.
WAKE now, my love, awake; for it is time ;
The rosy Morne long since left Tithon's bed,
All ready to her silver coche to clyme;
And Phæbus gins to shew his glorious hed.
Hark! how the cheerefull birds do chaunt theyr
laies,
And carroll of loves praise.
The merry larke hir mattins sings aloft ;
The thrush replyes ; the mavis descant playes ;
The ouzell shrills; the ruddock warbles soft ;
So goodly all agree, with sweet consent,
To this dayes merriment.
Ah ! my deere love, why doe ye sleepe thus long,
When meeter were that ye should now awake,
T' awayt the comming of your joyous make, (a)
And hearken to the birds love-learned song,
The deawy leaves among !
For they of joy and pleasance to you sing,
That all the woods then answer, and theyr eccho
ring.
My love is now awake out of her dreame,
And her fayre eyes, like stars that dimmed were
With darksome cloud, now shew theyr goodly
beam
More bright then Hesperus his head doth rere.
Come now, ye damsels, daughters of delight,
Helpe quickly her to dight.
This noble soldier and accomplished gentleman was the son
of Sir Henry Sydney of Penhurst, in Kent. In his life. time Sydney enjoyed a popularity both at home and abroad, which is not easily accounted for, unless we believe what must have been the truth, that by the charm of his manners, and the nobility of his nature, he uncon. sciously diffused around himself the atmosphere through which his character and actions were viewed; and which gave to a mortal of ordinary proportions the stature and bearing of a hero of the old romance. Sydney is the connecting link between the knight of chivalry and the modern soldier and gentleman,-one of those rare and happy persons who come into the world once in a century to unite the suffrages of mankind in one spontaneous feel
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