III.THE WANDERING JEW.

Thisexcellent old ballad is preserved in the little ancient miscellany, intitled,The Garland of Goodwill.—Ignoranceis here made to speak in the broad Somersetshire dialect. The scene we may suppose to be Glastonbury Abbey.

Truth.

God speed you, ancient father,And give you a good daye;What is the cause, I praye youSo sadly here you staye?And that you keep such gazing5On this decayed place,The which, for superstition,Good princes down did raze?

Ignorance.

Chill[807]tell thee, by my vazen[808],That zometimes che[809]have knowne10A vair and goodly abbeyStand here of bricke and stone;And many a holy vrier[810],As ich[811]may say to thee,Within these goodly cloystersChe did full often zee.15

Truth.

Then I must tell thee, father,In truthe and veritiè,A sorte of greater hypocritesThou couldst not likely see;20Deceiving of the simpleWith false and feigned lies:But such an order trulyChrist never did devise.

Ignorance.

Ah! ah! che zmell thee now, man;25Che know well what thou art;A vellow of mean learning,Thee was not worth a vart:Vor when we had the old lawe,A merry world was then;30And every thing was plentyAmong all zorts of men.

Truth.

Thou givest me an answer,As did the Jewes sometimesUnto the prophet Jeremye,35When he accus'd their crimes;'Twas merry, sayd the people,And joyfull in our rea'me,When we did offer spice-cakesUnto the queen of heav'n.40

Ignorance.

Chill tell thee what, good vellowe,Before the vriers went hence,A bushell of the best wheatèWas zold vor vourteen pence;And vorty egges a penny,45That were both good and newe;And this che zay my zelf have zeene,And yet ich am no Jewe.

Truth.

Within the sacred bibleWe find it written plain,50The latter days should troublesomeAnd dangerous be, certaine;That we should be self-lovers,And charity wax colde;Then 'tis not true religion55That makes thee grief to holde.

Ignorance.

Chill tell thee my opinion plaine,And choul'd[812]that well ye knewe,Ich care not for the bible booke;Tis too big to be true.Our blessed ladyes psalterZhall for my money goe;Zuch pretty prayers, as there bee[813],The bible cannot zhowe.

Truth.

Nowe hast thou spoken trulye,65For in that book indeedeNo mention of our lady,Or Romish saint we read:For by the blessed SpiritThat book indited was,70And not by simple persons,As was the foolish masse.

Ignorance.

Cham[814]zure they were not voolisheThat made the masse, che trowe;Why, man,'tis all in Latine,75And vools no Latine knowe.Were not our fathers wise men,And they did like it well;Who very much rejoycedTo heare the zacring bell?[815]80

Truth.

But many kinges and prophets,As I may say to thee,Have wisht the light that you have,And could it never see:For what art thou the better85A Latin song to heare,And understandest nothing,That they sing in the quiere?

Ignorance.

O hold thy peace, che pray thee,The noise was passing trim90To heare the vriers zinging,As we did enter in;And then to zee the rood-loftZo bravely zet with zaints;—But now to zee them wandring95My heart with zorrow vaints.

Truth.

The Lord did give commandment,No image thou shouldst make,Nor that unto idolatryYou should your self betake:100The golden calf of IsraelMoses did therefore spoile;And Baal's priests and templeWere brought to utter foile.

Ignorance.

But our lady of Walsinghame105Was a pure and holy zaint,And many men in pilgrimageDid shew to her complaint.Yea with zweet Thomas Becket,And many other moe:110The holy maid of Kent[816]likewiseDid many wonders zhowe.

Truth.

Such saints are well agreeingTo your profession sure;And to the men that made them115So precious and so pure;The one for being a traytoure,Met an untimely death;The other eke for treasonDid end her hateful breath.120

Ignorance.

Yea, yea, it is no matter,Dispraise them how you wille:But zure they did much goodnesse;Would they were with us stille!We had our holy water,125And holy bread likewise,And many holy reliquesWe zaw before our eyes.

Truth.

And all this while they fed youWith vain and empty showe,130Which never Christ commanded,As learned doctors knowe:Search then the holy scriptures,And thou shalt plainly seeThat headlong to damnation135They alway trained thee.

Ignorance.

If it be true, good vellowe,As thou dost zay to mee,Unto my heavenly faderAlone then will I flee:140Believing in the Gospel,And passion of his zon,And with the zubtil papistesIch have for ever done.

FOOTNOTES:[807][I will.][808]i.e.faithen: as in the Midland counties they say housen, closen, for houses, closes.A.[809][I.][810][friar.][811][I.][812][I would.][813]Probably alluding to the illuminated Psalters, Missals, &c.[814][I am.][815][the sacring bell was rung to give notice of the elevation of the host.][816]By name Eliz. Barton, executed Apr. 21, 1534. Stow, p. 570.

[807][I will.]

[808]i.e.faithen: as in the Midland counties they say housen, closen, for houses, closes.A.

[809][I.]

[810][friar.]

[811][I.]

[812][I would.]

[813]Probably alluding to the illuminated Psalters, Missals, &c.

[814][I am.]

[815][the sacring bell was rung to give notice of the elevation of the host.]

[816]By name Eliz. Barton, executed Apr. 21, 1534. Stow, p. 570.

Thestory of the Wandering Jew is of considerable antiquity: it had obtained full credit in this part of the world before the year 1228, as we learn from Mat. Paris. For in that year, it seems, there came an Armenian archbishop into England, to visit the shrines and reliques preserved in our churches; who, being entertained at the monastery of St. Albans, was asked several questions relating to his country, &c. Among the rest a monk, who sat near him, inquired, "if he had ever seen or heard of the famous person named Joseph, that was so much talked of; who was present at our Lord's crucifixion and conversed with him, and who was still alive in confirmation of the Christian faith." The archbishop answered, That the fact was true. And afterwards one of his train, who was well known to a servant of the abbot's, interpreting his master's words, told them in French, "That his lord knew the person they spoke of very well: that he had dined at his table but a little while before he left the East: that he had been Pontius Pilate's porter, by name Cartaphilus; who, when they were dragging Jesus out of the door of the Judgment-hall, struck him with his fist on the back, saying, 'Go faster, Jesus, go faster: why dost thou linger?' Upon which Jesus looked at him with a frown and said, 'I indeed am going, but thou shall tarry till I come.' Soon after he was converted, and baptized by the name of Joseph. He lives for ever, but at the end of every hundred years falls into an incurable illness, and at length into a fit or ecstacy, out of which when he recovers, he returns to the same state of youth he was in when Jesus suffered, being then about thirty years of age. He remembers all the circumstances of the death and resurrection of Christ, the saints that arose with him, the composing of the apostles' creed, their preaching, and dispersion; and is himself a very grave and holy person." This is the substance of Matthew Paris's account, who was himself a monk of St. Albans, and was living at the time when this Armenian archbishop made the above relation.

Since his time several impostors have appeared at intervals under the name and character of theWandering Jew; whose several histories may be seen in Calmet'sDictionary of the Bible. See also theTurkish Spy, vol. ii. book 3, let. 1. The story that is copied in the following ballad is of one, who appeared at Hamburgh in 1547, and pretended he had been a Jewish shoemaker atthe time of Christ's crucifixion.—The ballad however seems to be of later date. It is preserved in black-letter in the Pepys collection.

[This wondrous myth has found its way into many literatures, and numerous theories have been brought forward to account for its universality; but the only foundation for it appears to be in Christ's words—"tarry till I come." Mons. Paul Lacroix, however, suggests that it took its rise in a grand and beautiful allegory in which the Hebrew race were personified under the figure of the Everlasting Wanderer. Professor Child makes the following pertinent remark in hisEnglish and Scottish Ballads(vol. viii. p. 78). "It will be noticed that in the second form of the legend, the punishment of perpetual existence, which gives rise to the old names,Judæus non mortalis,Ewiger Jude, is aggravated by a condemnation to incessant change of place, which is indicated by a corresponding name,Wandering Jew,Juif Errant, &c."In the Middle Ages it was supposed by some that Cain was the Wandering Jew, but the Mahometan belief was fixed upon Samiri, who, during the absence of Moses, enticed the people to worship the golden calf. In G. Weil'sThe Bible, the Koran, and the Talmud, 1846 (p. 127), we read, "Moses then summoned Samiri, and would have put him to death instantly, but Allah directed that he should be sent into banishment. Ever since that time he roams like a wild beast throughout the world; everyone shuns him and purifies the ground on which his feet have stood; and he himself, whenever he approaches men, exclaims, 'Touch me not.'" (Quoted in Buckle'sCommon Place Book.Works, vol. ii. p. 502, 1872.)The legend has been localized in various parts of the world and connected with other myths. According to Mr. Baring Gould, a similar curse to that under which the Wandering Jew is living is supposed to have been inflicted upon the gipsies, on account of their refusal to shelter the Virgin and Child in the flight into Egypt.The last recorded appearance of the Wandering Jew was at Brussels in April, 1774, and the wanderer's name was Isaac Laquedem. The name of the Hamburgh impostor, mentioned above by Percy, was Ahasuerus.]

In the Middle Ages it was supposed by some that Cain was the Wandering Jew, but the Mahometan belief was fixed upon Samiri, who, during the absence of Moses, enticed the people to worship the golden calf. In G. Weil'sThe Bible, the Koran, and the Talmud, 1846 (p. 127), we read, "Moses then summoned Samiri, and would have put him to death instantly, but Allah directed that he should be sent into banishment. Ever since that time he roams like a wild beast throughout the world; everyone shuns him and purifies the ground on which his feet have stood; and he himself, whenever he approaches men, exclaims, 'Touch me not.'" (Quoted in Buckle'sCommon Place Book.Works, vol. ii. p. 502, 1872.)

The legend has been localized in various parts of the world and connected with other myths. According to Mr. Baring Gould, a similar curse to that under which the Wandering Jew is living is supposed to have been inflicted upon the gipsies, on account of their refusal to shelter the Virgin and Child in the flight into Egypt.

The last recorded appearance of the Wandering Jew was at Brussels in April, 1774, and the wanderer's name was Isaac Laquedem. The name of the Hamburgh impostor, mentioned above by Percy, was Ahasuerus.]

When as in faire JerusalemOur Saviour Christ did live,And for the sins of all the worldeHis own deare life did give;The wicked Jewes with scoffes and scornes5Did dailye him molest,That never till he left his life,Our Saviour could not rest.When they had crown'd his head with thornes,And scourg'd him to disgrace,10In scornfull sort they led him fortheUnto his dying place;Where thousand thousands in the streeteBeheld him passe along,Yet not one gentle heart was there,15That pityed this his wrong.Both old and young reviled him,As in the streete he wente,And nought he found but churlish tauntes,By every ones consente:20His owne deare crosse he bore himselfe,A burthen far too great,Which made him in the street to fainte,With blood and water sweat.Being weary thus, he sought for rest,25To ease his burthened soule,Upon a stone; the which a wretchDid churlishly controule;And sayd, Awaye, thou king of Jewes,Thou shalt not rest thee here;30Pass on; thy execution placeThou seest nowe draweth neare.And thereupon he thrust him thence;At which our Saviour sayd,I sure will rest, but thou shalt walke,35And have no journey stayed.With that this cursed shoemaker,For offering Christ this wrong,Left wife and children, house and all,And went from thence along.40Where after he had seene the bloudeOf Jesus Christ thus shed,And to the crosse his bodye nail'd,Awaye with speed he fledWithout returning backe againe45Unto his dwelling place,And wandred up and downe the worlde,A runnagate most base.No resting could he finde at all,No ease, nor hearts content;50No house, nor home, nor biding place:But wandring forth he wentFrom towne to towne in foreigne landes,With grieved conscience still,Repenting for the heinous guilt55Of his fore-passed ill.Thus after some fewe ages pastIn wandring up and downe;He much again desired to seeJerusalems renowne,60But finding it all quite destroyd,He wandred thence with woe,Our Saviours wordes, which he had spoke,To verifie and showe."I'll rest, sayd hee, but thou shalt walke,"65So doth this wandring JewFrom place to place, but cannot restFor seeing countries newe;Declaring still the power of him,Whereas he comes or goes,70And of all things done in the east,Since Christ his death, he showes.The world he hath still compast roundAnd seene those nations strange,That hearing of the name of Christ,75Their idol gods doe change:To whom he hath told wondrous thingesOf time forepast, and gone,And to the princes of the worldeDeclares his cause of moane:80Desiring still to be dissolv'd,And yeild his mortal breath;But, if the Lord hath thus decreed,He shall not yet see death.For neither lookes he old nor young,85But as he did those times,When Christ did suffer on the crosseFor mortall sinners crimes.He hath past through many a foreigne place,Arabia, Egypt, Africa,90Grecia, Syria, and great Thrace,And throughout all Hungaria.Where Paul and Peter preached Christ,Those blest apostles deare;There he hath told our Saviours wordes,95In countries far, and neare.And lately in Bohemia,With many a German towne;And now in Flanders, as tis thought,He wandreth up and downe:100Where learned men with him conferreOf those his lingering dayes,And wonder much to heare him tellHis journeyes, and his wayes.If people give this Jew an almes,105The most that he will takeIs not above a groat a time:Which he, for Jesus' sake,Will kindlye give unto the poore,And thereof make no spare,110Affirming still that Jesus ChristOf him hath dailye care.He ne'er was seene to laugh nor smile,But weepe and make great moane;Lamenting still his miseries,115And dayes forepast and gone:If he heare any one blaspheme,Or take God's name in vaine,He telles them that they crucifieTheir Saviour Christe againe.120If you had seene his death, saith he,As these mine eyes have done,Ten thousand thousand times would yeeHis torments think upon:And suffer for his sake all paine125Of torments, and all woes.These are his wordes and eke his lifeWhereas he comes or goes.

When they had crown'd his head with thornes,And scourg'd him to disgrace,10In scornfull sort they led him fortheUnto his dying place;Where thousand thousands in the streeteBeheld him passe along,Yet not one gentle heart was there,15That pityed this his wrong.

Both old and young reviled him,As in the streete he wente,And nought he found but churlish tauntes,By every ones consente:20His owne deare crosse he bore himselfe,A burthen far too great,Which made him in the street to fainte,With blood and water sweat.

Being weary thus, he sought for rest,25To ease his burthened soule,Upon a stone; the which a wretchDid churlishly controule;And sayd, Awaye, thou king of Jewes,Thou shalt not rest thee here;30Pass on; thy execution placeThou seest nowe draweth neare.

And thereupon he thrust him thence;At which our Saviour sayd,I sure will rest, but thou shalt walke,35And have no journey stayed.With that this cursed shoemaker,For offering Christ this wrong,Left wife and children, house and all,And went from thence along.40

Where after he had seene the bloudeOf Jesus Christ thus shed,And to the crosse his bodye nail'd,Awaye with speed he fledWithout returning backe againe45Unto his dwelling place,And wandred up and downe the worlde,A runnagate most base.

No resting could he finde at all,No ease, nor hearts content;50No house, nor home, nor biding place:But wandring forth he wentFrom towne to towne in foreigne landes,With grieved conscience still,Repenting for the heinous guilt55Of his fore-passed ill.

Thus after some fewe ages pastIn wandring up and downe;He much again desired to seeJerusalems renowne,60But finding it all quite destroyd,He wandred thence with woe,Our Saviours wordes, which he had spoke,To verifie and showe.

"I'll rest, sayd hee, but thou shalt walke,"65So doth this wandring JewFrom place to place, but cannot restFor seeing countries newe;Declaring still the power of him,Whereas he comes or goes,70And of all things done in the east,Since Christ his death, he showes.

The world he hath still compast roundAnd seene those nations strange,That hearing of the name of Christ,75Their idol gods doe change:To whom he hath told wondrous thingesOf time forepast, and gone,And to the princes of the worldeDeclares his cause of moane:80

Desiring still to be dissolv'd,And yeild his mortal breath;But, if the Lord hath thus decreed,He shall not yet see death.For neither lookes he old nor young,85But as he did those times,When Christ did suffer on the crosseFor mortall sinners crimes.

He hath past through many a foreigne place,Arabia, Egypt, Africa,90Grecia, Syria, and great Thrace,And throughout all Hungaria.Where Paul and Peter preached Christ,Those blest apostles deare;There he hath told our Saviours wordes,95In countries far, and neare.

And lately in Bohemia,With many a German towne;And now in Flanders, as tis thought,He wandreth up and downe:100Where learned men with him conferreOf those his lingering dayes,And wonder much to heare him tellHis journeyes, and his wayes.

If people give this Jew an almes,105The most that he will takeIs not above a groat a time:Which he, for Jesus' sake,Will kindlye give unto the poore,And thereof make no spare,110Affirming still that Jesus ChristOf him hath dailye care.

He ne'er was seene to laugh nor smile,But weepe and make great moane;Lamenting still his miseries,115And dayes forepast and gone:If he heare any one blaspheme,Or take God's name in vaine,He telles them that they crucifieTheir Saviour Christe againe.120

If you had seene his death, saith he,As these mine eyes have done,Ten thousand thousand times would yeeHis torments think upon:And suffer for his sake all paine125Of torments, and all woes.These are his wordes and eke his lifeWhereas he comes or goes.

By Sir Walter Raleigh,

Isfound in a very scarce miscellany intitled "Davison'sPoems, or a poeticall Rapsodie divided into sixe books.... The 4th impression newly corrected and augmented, and put into a forme more pleasing to the reader. Lond. 1621, 12mo." This poem is reported to have been written by its celebrated author the night before his execution, Oct. 29, 1618. But this must be a mistake, for there were at least two editions of Davison's poems before that time, one in 1608,[817]the other in 1611.[818]So that unless this poem was an after-insertion in the 4th edit. it must have been written long before the death of Sir Walter: perhaps it was composed soon after his condemnation in 1603. See Oldys'sLife of Sir W. Raleigh, p. 173, fol.

[Hallam asserted that this favourite poem had been ascribed to Raleigh without evidence and without probability. Ritson affirmed that F. Davison was the author, and Ellis supported the claims of Joshua Sylvester, but Dr. Hannah has proved conclusively that it was really written by Raleigh. It was certainly composed before 1608, and probably about the period of its author's marriage and his consequent imprisonment in the Tower. Dr. Hannah has brought together a large amount of illustrative evidence in his interesting edition of theCourtly Poets(1872), and he shows that the answerers of the poem attributed it to Raleigh. One of the answers commences as follows—

"Go, echo of the mind, a careless truth protest;Make answer that rude Rawly no stomach can digest."

He also draws attention to a transcript of the poem among the Chetham MSS., made not long after Raleigh's death, and signed "Wa. Raleigh."In that remarkable book,Sylvester's Remains, printed at the end of the translation of Du Bartas, 1641,The Soules Errandis inserted with some poor additional verses.]

He also draws attention to a transcript of the poem among the Chetham MSS., made not long after Raleigh's death, and signed "Wa. Raleigh."

In that remarkable book,Sylvester's Remains, printed at the end of the translation of Du Bartas, 1641,The Soules Errandis inserted with some poor additional verses.]

Goe, soule, the bodies guest,Upon a thankelesse arrant;Feare not to touche the best,The truth shall be thy warrant:Goe, since I needs must dye,5And give the world the lye.Goe tell the court, it glowesAnd shines like rotten wood;Goe tell the church it showesWhat's good, and doth no good:10If church and court reply,Then give them both the lye.Tell potentates they liveActing by others actions;Not lov'd unlesse they give,15Not strong but by their factions;If potentates reply,Give potentates the lye.Tell men of high condition,That rule affairs of state,20Their purpose is ambition,Their practise onely hate;And if they once reply,Then give them all the lye.Tell them that brave it most,25They beg for more by spending,Who in their greatest costSeek nothing but commending;And if they make reply,Spare not to give the lye.30Tell zeale, 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,35For thou must give the lye.Tell age, it daily wasteth;Tell honour, how it alters;Tell beauty, how she blasteth;Tell favour, how she falters;40And as they shall reply,Give each of them the lye.Tell wit, how much it wranglesIn tickle points of nicenesse;Tell wisedome, she entangles45Herselfe in over-wisenesse;And if they do reply,Straight give them both the lye.Tell physicke of her boldnesse;Tell skill, it is pretension;50Tell charity of coldness;Tell law, it is contention;And as they yield reply,So give them still the lye.Tell fortune of her blindnesse;55Tell nature of decay;Tell friendship of unkindnesse;Tell justice of delay:And if they dare reply,Then give them all the lye.60Tell arts, they have no soundnesse,But vary by esteeming;Tell schooles, they want profoundnesse,And stand too much on seeming:If arts and schooles reply,65Give arts and schooles the lye.Tell faith, it's fled the citie;Tell how the countrey erreth;Tell, manhood shakes off pitie;Tell, vertue least preferreth:70And, if they doe reply,Spare not to give the lye.So, when thou hast, as ICommanded thee, done blabbing,Although to give the lye75Deserves no less than stabbing,Yet stab at thee who will,No stab the soule can kill.

Goe, soule, the bodies guest,Upon a thankelesse arrant;Feare not to touche the best,The truth shall be thy warrant:Goe, since I needs must dye,5And give the world the lye.

Goe tell the court, it glowesAnd shines like rotten wood;Goe tell the church it showesWhat's good, and doth no good:10If church and court reply,Then give them both the lye.

Tell potentates they liveActing by others actions;Not lov'd unlesse they give,15Not strong but by their factions;If potentates reply,Give potentates the lye.

Tell men of high condition,That rule affairs of state,20Their purpose is ambition,Their practise onely hate;And if they once reply,Then give them all the lye.

Tell them that brave it most,25They beg for more by spending,Who in their greatest costSeek nothing but commending;And if they make reply,Spare not to give the lye.30

Tell zeale, 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,35For thou must give the lye.

Tell age, it daily wasteth;Tell honour, how it alters;Tell beauty, how she blasteth;Tell favour, how she falters;40And as they shall reply,Give each of them the lye.

Tell wit, how much it wranglesIn tickle points of nicenesse;Tell wisedome, she entangles45Herselfe in over-wisenesse;And if they do reply,Straight give them both the lye.

Tell physicke of her boldnesse;Tell skill, it is pretension;50Tell charity of coldness;Tell law, it is contention;And as they yield reply,So give them still the lye.

Tell fortune of her blindnesse;55Tell nature of decay;Tell friendship of unkindnesse;Tell justice of delay:And if they dare reply,Then give them all the lye.60

Tell arts, they have no soundnesse,But vary by esteeming;Tell schooles, they want profoundnesse,And stand too much on seeming:If arts and schooles reply,65Give arts and schooles the lye.

Tell faith, it's fled the citie;Tell how the countrey erreth;Tell, manhood shakes off pitie;Tell, vertue least preferreth:70And, if they doe reply,Spare not to give the lye.

So, when thou hast, as ICommanded thee, done blabbing,Although to give the lye75Deserves no less than stabbing,Yet stab at thee who will,No stab the soule can kill.

FOOTNOTES:[817]Catalog. of T. Rawlinson, 1727.[818]Cat. of Sion coll. library.This is either lost or mislaid.

[817]Catalog. of T. Rawlinson, 1727.

[818]Cat. of Sion coll. library.This is either lost or mislaid.

Inthe first edition of this book were inserted, by way of specimen of his majesty's poetic talents, some Punning Verses made on the disputations at Sterling: but it having been suggested to the Editor, that the king only gave the quibbling commendations in prose, and that some obsequious court-rhymer put them into metre;[819]it was thought proper to exchange them for twoSonnetsof K. James's own composition. James was a great versifier, and therefore out of the multitude of his poems we have here selected two, which (to shew our impartiality) are written in his best and his worst manner. The first would not dishonour any writer of that time; the second is a most complete example of the Bathos.

[James I. commenced the practice of poetry at an early age, and his first book was printed at Edinburgh by T. Vautroullier, in 1584, under the title ofThe Essays of a Prentise in the divine artof Poesie. The king's next poetical venture was entitled,HisMajesty's Poeticall Exercises at Vacant Houres. Printed at Edinburgh, by Robert Waldegrave, printer to the King's Majesty in 1591.]

From K. James's works in folio: Where is also printed another calledhis Majesty'sOWNSonnet; it would perhaps be too cruel to infer from thence that this wasnothis Majesty'sownSonnet.

God gives not kings the stile of Gods in vaine,For on his throne his scepter do they swey:And as their subjects ought them to obey,So kings should feare and serve their God againe.If then ye would enjoy a happie reigne,Observe the statutes of our heavenly king;And from his law make all your laws to spring;Since his lieutenant here ye should remaine.Rewarde the just, be stedfast, true and plaine;Represse the proud, maintayning aye the right;Walke always so, as ever inHISsight,Who guardes the godly, plaguing the prophane.And so ye shall in princely vertues shine,Resembling right your mightie king divine.

God gives not kings the stile of Gods in vaine,For on his throne his scepter do they swey:And as their subjects ought them to obey,So kings should feare and serve their God againe.

If then ye would enjoy a happie reigne,Observe the statutes of our heavenly king;And from his law make all your laws to spring;Since his lieutenant here ye should remaine.

Rewarde the just, be stedfast, true and plaine;Represse the proud, maintayning aye the right;Walke always so, as ever inHISsight,Who guardes the godly, plaguing the prophane.And so ye shall in princely vertues shine,Resembling right your mightie king divine.

This is printed from Drummond of Hawthornden's works, folio: where also may be seen some verses of Lord Stirling's upon this Sonnet, which concludes with the finest Anticlimax I remember to have seen.

How cruelly these catives do conspire?What loathsome love breeds such a baleful bandBetwixt the cankred king of Creta land,[820]That melancholy old and angry sire,And him, who wont to quench debate and ire5Among the Romans, when his ports were clos'd?[821]But now his double face is still dispos'd,With Saturn's help, to freeze us at the fire.The earth ore-covered with a sheet of snow,Refuses food to fowl, to bird, and beast:10The chilling cold lets every thing to grow,And surfeits cattle with a starving feast.Curs'd be that love and mought[822]continue short,Which kills all creatures, and doth spoil our sport.

How cruelly these catives do conspire?What loathsome love breeds such a baleful bandBetwixt the cankred king of Creta land,[820]That melancholy old and angry sire,

And him, who wont to quench debate and ire5Among the Romans, when his ports were clos'd?[821]But now his double face is still dispos'd,With Saturn's help, to freeze us at the fire.

The earth ore-covered with a sheet of snow,Refuses food to fowl, to bird, and beast:10The chilling cold lets every thing to grow,And surfeits cattle with a starving feast.Curs'd be that love and mought[822]continue short,Which kills all creatures, and doth spoil our sport.

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