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The heaven shows lively art and hue, Of sundry shapes and colours new, And laughs upon the earth :-anon, The earth, as cold as any stone, Wet in the tears of her own kind, 'Gins then to take a joyful mind; For well she feels that out and out The sun doth warm her round about, And dries her children tenderly, And shows them forth full orderly. The mountains high, and how they stand; The valleys, and the great main land; The trees, the herbs, the towers strong, The castles, and the rivers long; And even for joy thus of this heat, She showeth forth her pleasures great, And sleeps no more; but sendeth forth Her clergions, her own dear worth, To mount and fly up to the air, Where then they sing in order fair, . And tell in song full merrily, How they have slept full quietly That night about their mother's sides. And when they have sung more besides, Then fall they to their mother's breast, Whereat they feed, or take their rest. The hunter then sounds out his horn, And rangeth straight through wood and corn ; On hills then show the ewe and lamb, And every young one with his dam ; Then lovers walk and tell their tale, Both of their bliss and of their bale ; And how they serve, and how they do, And how their lady loves them too. And thus all things have comforting In that, that doth their comfort bring ;
Save I, alas ! whom neither sun,
The Earl of Surrey was the eldest son of the Duke of Norfolk, in the time of Henry VIII. He was born in 1516, and was early contracted to marry Lady Frances Vere, daughter of the Earl of Oxford. In 1542, he was made a knight of the garter, and appears to have been one of the gayest ornaments of the court; but he fell under the displeasure of the King, and was in consequence beheaded in the flower of life. It is proper, however, to observe, that although he has been regarded as the author of the poem quoted, it is certainly not at all like the ordinary style of his poetry, of which the following descriptive effusion, written during one of his imprisonments in Windsor Castle, is a favourable specimen. With somewhat of the general stiffness of his style, it possesses much of the grace and gallant spirit of his chivalrous character, and affords altogether an advantageous view of his powers and talents as a poet:
“ So cruel prison how could betide, alas!
As proud Windsor, where I in lust and joy, With a king's son my childish years did pass,
In greater feast than Priam's sons of Troy. Where each sweet place returns a taste full sour;
The large green courts, where we were wont to hove, With eyes cast up unto the maiden's tower,
And easy sighs, such as folks draw in love : The stately seats, the ladies bright of hue,
The dances short, long tales of great delight,
With words, and looks, that tigers could but rue,
Where each of us did plead the other's right;
With dazed eyes oft we, by gleams of love,
To bait her eyes, which kept the leads above. ..
On foaming horse, with swords and friendly hearts, With chear as though one should another whelm,
Where we here fought, and chased oft with darts ; With silver drops the meads yet spread for ruth;
In active games of nimbleness and strength,
Our tender limbs, that yet shot up in length;
Of pleasant plaint, and of our ladies praise,
What hope of speed, what dread of long delays;
With rains availed, and swift y-breathed horse
Where we did chase the fearful hart of force;
Wherewith, alas ! revive within my heart
The pleasant dreams, the quiet bed of rest,
The wanton talk, the divers change of play,
Wherewith we past the winter nights away.
Up-supped have, thus I my plaint renew :
Give me account, where is my noble fere ?
Whom in thy walls thou didst each night enclose,
To other lief, but unto me most dear.”
Returns thereto a hollow sound of plaint.
To banish the less, I find my chief relief.”
If the muse of Surrey, the first noble English poet, be imbued with the romantic spirit of his time, perhaps in the more emphatic verse of Byron, the latest and the greatest, we may trace the chartered and fiercer energies that are supposed to have affected the moral temperament of our own time. One of the very finest passages in all his voluminous works is an address to Napoleon, the individual in whom whatever was peculiar, to the revolutionary period that has just passed, may be said to have been embodied. After adverting to the singular combination of magnanimity and meanness, which formed the brightness and the blackness of that extraordinary political phenomenon, the author proceeds;
« Yet well thy soul hath brook'd the turning tide
With that untaught innate philosophy,
When Fortune fled her spoild and favourite child, .' He stood unbowed beneath the ills upon him piled.
“ Sager than in thy fortunes ; for in them
Ambition steeld thee on too far to show
'Tis but a worthless world to win or lose ! So hath it proved to thee, and all such lot who choose.
“ But quiet to quick bosoms is a hell,
And there hath been thy bane; there is a fire * And motion of the soul which will not dwell In its own narrow being, but aspire
Beyond the fitting medium of desire ;
Preys upon high adventure, nor can tire
“ This makes the madmen who have made men mad
By their contagion ; Conquerors and Kings,
Are theirs ! One Breast laid open were a school" Which would unteach mankind the lust to shine or rule :
Their breath is agitation, and their life