VII. HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED POEMS.

CynthiaQueene of Seas and Lands,That fortune euery where commands,Sent forth fortune to the Sea,To try her fortune euery way.There did I fortune meet, which makes me now to sing,There is no fishing to the Sea, nor seruice to the King.All the Nymphs ofThetistraineDidCinthiasfortunes entertaine:Many a Iewell, many a Iem,Was to her fortune brought by them.Her fortune sped so well, as makes me now to sing,There is no fishing to the Sea, nor seruice to the King.Fortune that it might be seene,That she did serue a royall Queene,A franke and royall hand did beare,And cast her fauors euery where.Some toyes fell to my share, which makes me now to sing,There is no fishing to the Sea, nor seruice to the King.[161]

All the Nymphs ofThetistraineDidCinthiasfortunes entertaine:Many a Iewell, many a Iem,Was to her fortune brought by them.Her fortune sped so well, as makes me now to sing,There is no fishing to the Sea, nor seruice to the King.

Fortune that it might be seene,That she did serue a royall Queene,A franke and royall hand did beare,And cast her fauors euery where.Some toyes fell to my share, which makes me now to sing,There is no fishing to the Sea, nor seruice to the King.[161]

And the Song ended, he vttred this short Speech:

God saue you faire Ladies all: and for my part, if euer I be brought to answere for my sinnes, God forgiue my sharking, and lay vsury to my charge. I am a Marriner, and am now come from the sea, where I had the fortune to light upon these few trifles. I must confesse I came but lightly by them, but I no sooner had them, but I made a vow, that as they came to my hands by Fortune, so I would not part with them but by Fortune. To that end I haue euer since carried these Lots about me, that if I met with fit company I might deuide my booty among them. And now, (I thanke my good Fortune,)! I am lighted into the best company of the world, a company of the fairest Ladyes that euer I saw. Come Ladies try your fortunes, and if any light upon an unfortunate Blanke, let her thinke that Fortune doth but mock her in these trifles, and meanes to pleasure her in greater matters.

The Lots.

1.Fortunes Wheele.

Fortune must now no more in triumph ride,The wheeles are yours that did her Chariot guide.

2.A Purse.

You thriue, or would, or may, your Lots a PurseFill it with gold, and you are nere the worse.

3.A Maske.

Want you a Maske? heere Fortune gives you one,Yet nature giues the Rose and Lilly none.

4.A Looking-Glasse.

Blinde Fortune doth not see how faire you be,But giues a glasse that you your selfe may see.

5.A Hankerchiefe.

Whether you seeme to weepe, or weepe indeed,This Hand-kerchiefe will stand you well in steed.

6.A Plaine Ring.

Fortune doth send[162]you, hap it well or ill,This plaine gold Ring, to wed you to your will.

7.A Ring, with this PoesieAs faithfull as I find.

Your hand by Fortune on this Ring doth light,And yet the words[163]do hit your humour right.

8.A Pair of Gloues.

Fortune these Gloues to you in challenge sends,For that you loue not fooles that are her friends.[164]

9.A Dozen of Points.[165]

You are in euery point a louer true,And therefore Fortune giues the points to you.

10.A Lace.

Giue her the Lace that loues to be straight lac'd,So Fortunes little gift is aptly plac'd.

11.A Paire of Kniues.

Fortune doth giue this paire of Kniues to you,To cut the thred of loue, if 't be not true.

12.A Girdle.

By Fortunes Girdle you may happy be,[166]But they that are lesse happy are more free.

13.A Payre of Writing-Tables.

These Tables may containe your thoughts[167]in part,But write not all, that's written in your heart.

14.A Payre of Garters.

Though you haue Fortunes Garters, you must beMore staid and constant in your steps then she.

15.A Coife and Crosse-Cloth.

Frowne in good earnest, or be sick in iest,This Coife and Cross-Cloth will become you best.

16.A Scarfe.

Take you this Scarfe, bindCupidhand and foote,So loue must aske you leaue before hee shoote.

17.A Falling Band.

Fortune would have you rise, yet guides your hand,From other Lots to take the falling band.

18.A Stomacher.

This Stomacher is full of windowes[168]wrought,Yet none through them can see into your thought.

19.A Pair of Sizzers.[169]

These sizzers do your huswifery bewray,You loue to work though you are borne to play.

20.A Chaine.

Because you scorne loue's Captiue to remaine,Fortune hath sworne to leade you in a Chaine.

21.A Prayer-Booke.

Your Fortune may prooue[170]good another day,Till Fortune come, take you a booke to pray.

22.A Snuftkin.[171]

'Tis Summer yet, a Snuftkin is your Lot,But 'twill be winter one day, doubt you not.

23.A Fanne.

You loue to see, and yet to be vnseen,Take you this Fanne to be your beauties skreene.

24.A Pair of Bracelets.

Lady, your hands are fallen into a snare,ForCupidsmanicles these Bracelets are.

25.A Bodkin.

Euen with this Bodkin you may lie unharmed,Your beauty is with vertue so well armed.

26.A Necklace.

Fortune giues your faire neck this lace to weare,God grant a heauier yoke it neuer beare.

27.A Cushinet.

To her that little cares what Lot she wins,Chance gives a little Cushinet to stick pinnes.

28.A Dyall.

The Dyal's your's, watch time least it be lost,Yet they most lose it that do watch it most.[172]

29.A Nutmeg with a Blanke Parchment in it.

This Nutmeg holds a Blanke, but chance doth hide it:Write your owne wish, and Fortune will prouide it.

30.Blanke.

Wot you not why Fortune giues you no prize,Good faith she saw you not, she wants her eyes.

31.Blanke.

You are so dainty to be pleaz'd, God wot,Chance knowes not what to giue you for a Lot.

32.Blanke.

Tis pitty such a hand should draw in vaine,Though it gaine nought, yet shall it pitty gaine.

33.Blanke.

Nothing's your Lot, that's more then can be told,For nothing is more precious then gold.

34.Blanke.

You faine would haue, but what, you cannot tell.In giuing nothing, Fortune serues you well.

Sir I. D.(pp. 42-46.)

IV. CANZONET.

A Hymne in Praise of Musicke.[173]

Praise, pleasure, profite, is that threefold band,Which ties mens minds more fast then Gordions knots:Each one some drawes, all three none can withstand,Of force conioynd, Conquest is hardly got.Then Musicke may of hearts a Monarch be,Wherein prayse, pleasure, profite so agree.Praise-worthy Musicke is, for God it praiseth,And pleasant, for brute beasts therein delight,Great profit from it flowes, for why it raisethThe mind ouerwhelmed with rude passions might:When against reason passions fond rebell,Musicke doth that confirme, and those expell.If Musicke did not merit endlesse praise,Would heauenly Spheares delight in siluer round?[174]If ioyous pleasure were not in sweet layesWould they in Court and Country so abound?And profitable needes we must that call,Which pleasure linkt with praise, doth bring to all.Heroicke minds with praises most incited,Seeke praise in Musicke and therein excell:God, man, beasts, birds, with Musicke are delighted,And pleasant t'is which pleaseth all so well:No greater profit is then self-content,And this will Musicke bring, and care preuent.When antique Poets Musick's praises tell,They say it beasts did please, and stones did moue:To proue more dull then stones, then beasts more fell,Those men which pleasing Musicke did not loue;They fain'd, it Cities built, and States defendedTo shew the profite great on it depended.Sweet birds (poor men's Musitians) neuer slakeTo sing sweet Musickes praises day and night:The dying Swans in Musicke pleasure take,To shew that it the dying can delight:In sicknesse, health, peace, warre, we do it need,Which proues sweet Musicks profit doth exceed.But I by niggard praising, do dispraisePraise-worthy Musicke in my worthlesse Rime:Ne can the pleasing profit of sweet laies,Any saue learnèd Muses well define:Yet all by these rude lines may clearely see,Praise, pleasure, profite in sweet musicke be. [pp. 138-9.](No sig. but in 1602. I. D.)

Praise-worthy Musicke is, for God it praiseth,And pleasant, for brute beasts therein delight,Great profit from it flowes, for why it raisethThe mind ouerwhelmed with rude passions might:When against reason passions fond rebell,Musicke doth that confirme, and those expell.

If Musicke did not merit endlesse praise,Would heauenly Spheares delight in siluer round?[174]If ioyous pleasure were not in sweet layesWould they in Court and Country so abound?And profitable needes we must that call,Which pleasure linkt with praise, doth bring to all.

Heroicke minds with praises most incited,Seeke praise in Musicke and therein excell:God, man, beasts, birds, with Musicke are delighted,And pleasant t'is which pleaseth all so well:No greater profit is then self-content,And this will Musicke bring, and care preuent.

When antique Poets Musick's praises tell,They say it beasts did please, and stones did moue:To proue more dull then stones, then beasts more fell,Those men which pleasing Musicke did not loue;They fain'd, it Cities built, and States defendedTo shew the profite great on it depended.

Sweet birds (poor men's Musitians) neuer slakeTo sing sweet Musickes praises day and night:The dying Swans in Musicke pleasure take,To shew that it the dying can delight:In sicknesse, health, peace, warre, we do it need,Which proues sweet Musicks profit doth exceed.

But I by niggard praising, do dispraisePraise-worthy Musicke in my worthlesse Rime:Ne can the pleasing profit of sweet laies,Any saue learnèd Muses well define:Yet all by these rude lines may clearely see,Praise, pleasure, profite in sweet musicke be. [pp. 138-9.]

(No sig. but in 1602. I. D.)

V. TEN SONETS TO PHILOMEL.[175]

SONNET I.

Vpon Loues entring by the eares.

Oft did I heare our eyes the passage weare,By which Loue entred to assaile our hearts:Therefore I garded them, and void of feare,Neglected the defence of other parts.Loue knowing this, the vsuall way forsooke:And seeking found a by-way by mine eare.At which he entring, my heart prisoner tooke,And vnto thee sweete Phylomel did beare.Yet let my heart thy heart to pitty moue,Whose paine is great, although small fault appeare.First it lies bound in fettring chaines of loue,Then each day it is rackt with hope and feare.And with loues flames tis euermore consumed,Only because to loue thee it presumed.O why did Fame my heart to loue betray,By telling my Deares vertue and perfection?Why did my Traytor eares to it conueyThat Syren-song, cause of my hearts infection?Had I been deafe, or Fame her gifts concealed,Then had my heart beene free from hopelesse Loue:Or were my state likewise by it reuealed,Well might it Philomel to pitty moue.Than should she know how loue doth make me languish,Distracting me twixt hope and dreadfull feare:Then should she know my care, my plaints and anguish,All which for her deare selfe I meekely beare.Yea I could quietly deaths paines abide,So that she knew that for her sake I dide.

O why did Fame my heart to loue betray,By telling my Deares vertue and perfection?Why did my Traytor eares to it conueyThat Syren-song, cause of my hearts infection?Had I been deafe, or Fame her gifts concealed,Then had my heart beene free from hopelesse Loue:Or were my state likewise by it reuealed,Well might it Philomel to pitty moue.Than should she know how loue doth make me languish,Distracting me twixt hope and dreadfull feare:Then should she know my care, my plaints and anguish,All which for her deare selfe I meekely beare.Yea I could quietly deaths paines abide,So that she knew that for her sake I dide.

Of his owne, and his Mistresse sicknesse at one time.

Sicknesse entending my loue to betray,Before I should sight of my deere obtaine:Did his pale colours in my face display,Lest that my fauour might her fauours gaine.Yet not content herewith, like meanes it wrought,My Philomels bright beauty to deface:And natures glory to disgrace it sought,That my conceiuèd loue it might displace.But my firme loue could this assault well beare,Which vertue had, not beauty for his ground.And yet bright beames of beauty did appeare,Through sicknesse vaile, which made my loue abound;If sicke (thought I) her beauty so excell,How matchlesse would it be if she were well.

Another of her sicknesse and recovery.

Pale Death himselfe did loue my Philomell,When he her vertues and rare beauty saw,Therefore he sicknesse sent: which should expellHis riuals life, and my deare to him draw.But her bright beauty dazled so his eyes,That his dart life did misse, though her it hit:Yet not therewith content, new meanes he tries,To bring her vnto Death, and make life flit.But Nature soone perceiuing, that he meantTo spoyle her onely Phœnix, her chiefe pride,Assembled all her force, and did preuentThe greatest mischiefe that could her betide.So both our liues and loues, Nature defended:For had she di'de, my loue and life had ended.

Allusion to Theseus voyage to Crete, against the Minotaure.

My loue is sail'd against dislike to fight,Which like vile monster, threatens his decay:The ship is hope, which by desires great might,Is swiftly borne towards the wishèd bay:The company which with my loue doth fare,(Though met in one) is a dissenting crew:They are ioy, griefe, and neuer-sleeping care,And doubt, which neere beleeues good newes for true:Blacke feare the flag is, which my ship doth beare,Which (Deere) take downe, if my loue victor be:And let white comfort in his place appeare.When loue victoriously returnes to me:Least I from rock despaire come tumbling downe,And in a sea of teares be for'st to drowne.

Vpon her looking secretly out at a window as he passed by.

Once did my Philomel reflect on me,Her Cristall pointed eyes as I past by;Thinking not to be seene, yet would me see:But soone my hungry eies their food did spy.Alas, my deere, couldst them suppose, that faceWhich needs not enuy Phœbus chiefest pride,Could secret be, although in secret place,And that transparent glasse such beames could hide?But if I had been blinde, yet Loues hot flame,Kindled in my poore heart by thy bright eye,Did plainly shew when it so neere thee came,By more the vsuall heate then cause was nie,So though thou hidden wert, my heart and eyeDid turne to thee by mutuall Sympathy.When time nor place would let me often viewNatures chiefe Mirror, and my sole delight;Her liuely picture in my heart I drew,That I might it behold both day and night;But she, like Philips Sonne, scorning that IShould portraiture, which wanted Apelles Art,Commanded Loue (who nought dare her deny)To burne the picture which was in my heart.The more loue burn'd, the more her Picture shin'd:The more it shin'd, the more my heart did burne:So what to hurt her Picture was assign'd,To my hearts ruine and decay did turne.Loue could not burne the Spirit, it was divine,And therefore fir'd my heart, the Saints poor shrine.

When time nor place would let me often viewNatures chiefe Mirror, and my sole delight;Her liuely picture in my heart I drew,That I might it behold both day and night;But she, like Philips Sonne, scorning that IShould portraiture, which wanted Apelles Art,Commanded Loue (who nought dare her deny)To burne the picture which was in my heart.The more loue burn'd, the more her Picture shin'd:The more it shin'd, the more my heart did burne:So what to hurt her Picture was assign'd,To my hearts ruine and decay did turne.Loue could not burne the Spirit, it was divine,And therefore fir'd my heart, the Saints poor shrine.

To the Sunne of his Mistresse beauty eclipsed with frownes.

When as the Sunne eclipsèd is, some sayIt thunder, lightning, raine, and wind portendeth;And not vnlike but such things happen may,Sith like effects my Sunne eclipsèd sendeth!Witnesse my throat made hoarse with thundring cries,And heart with loues hot flashing lightnings fired:Witnesse the showers which still fall from mine eies,And breast with sighes like stormy winds neare riued.O shine then once againe sweet Sunne on me,And with thy beames dissolue clouds of despaire,Whereof these raging Meteors framèd be,In my poore heart by absence of my faire.So shalt thou prooue thy beames, thy heate, thy light,To match the Sunne in glory, grace, and might.

Vpon sending her a gold ring with this Posie.

Pure and Endlesse.

If you would know the love which I you beare,Compare it to the Ring which your faire handShall make more precious, when you shall it weare:So my loues nature you shall vnderstand.Is it of mettall pure? so you shall proueMy loue, which ne're disloyall thought did staine.Hath it no end? so endlesse is my loue,Vnlesse you it destroy with your disdaine.Doth it the purer waxe the more tis tride?So doth my loue: yet herein they dissent,That whereas gold the more t'is purifideBy waxing lesse, doth shew some part is spent:My loue doth waxe more pure by your more trying,And yet encreaseth in the purifying.

The hearts captivitie.

My cruell deere hauing captiu'de my heart,And bound it fast in chaines of restlesse loue:Requires it out of bondage to depart,Yet is she sure from her it cannot moue.Draw backe (said she) your helpeless loue from me,Your worth requires a farre more worthy place:Vnto your suite though I cannot agree,Full many will it louingly embrace.It may be so (my deere) but as the Sunne,When it appeares doth make the starres to vanish!So when your selfe into my thoughts do runne,All others quite out of my heart you banish.The beames of your perfections shine so bright,That straight-way they dispell all other light.I. D.

I. D.

VI. TO GEORGE CHAPMAN ON HIS OVID.[176]

I. D. of the Middle Temple.

Onely that eye which for true loue doth weepe,Onely that hart which tender loue doth pierse,May read and vnderstand this sacred vierse—For other wits too misticall and deepe:Betweene these hallowed leauesCupiddooth keepeThe golden lesson of his second Artist;For loue, till now, hath still a Maister mist,SinceOuidseyes were closed with iron sleepe;But now his waking soule inChapmanliues,Which showes so well the passions of his soule;And yet this Muse more cause of wonder giues,And doth more Prophet-like loues art enroule:For Ouids soule, now growne more old and wise,Poures foorth it selfe in deeper misteries.

VII. REASON'S MOANE.[177]

When I peruse heauen's auncient written storie,part left in bookes, and part in contemplation:I finde Creation tended to God's glory:but when I looke upon the foule euasion,Loe then I cry, I howle, I weepe, I moane,and seeke for truth, but truth alas! is gone.Whilom of old before the earth was founded,or hearbs or trees or plants or beasts, had being,Or that the mightie Canopie of heauen surroundedthese lower creatures; ere that the eye had seeing:Then Reason was within the mind of Ioue,embracing only amitie and loue.The blessed angels' formes and admirable natures,their happie states, their liues and high perfections,Immortall essence and vnmeasured statures,the more made known their falls and low directions.These things when Reason doth peruseshe finds her errors, which she would excuse.But out alas! she sees strife is all in vaine;it bootes not to contend, or stand in this defence.Death, sorow, grief, hell and torments are her gaine,and endlesse burning fire, becomes our recompence.Oh heauie moane! oh endlesse sorrowes anguish,neuer to cease but euer still to languish.When I peruse the state of prime created man,his wealth, his dignitie and reason:His power, his pleasure, his greatnesse when I scan,I doe admire and wonder, that in so short a season,These noble parts, should haue so short conclusion:and man himselfe, be brought to such confusion.In seeking countries far beyond the seas, I finde,euen where faire Eden's pleasant garden stood:And all the coasts vnto the same confinde,gall to cruell wars; men's hands embru'd in blood,In cutting throats, and murders, men delight:so from these places Reason's banisht quite.O Ierusalem! that thou shouldst now turn Turke,and Sions hil, where holy rites of yore were vs'd:Oh! that within that holy place should lurkesuch sacrilege: whereby Ioue's name's abusde.What famous Greece, farewel: thou canst not bostthy great renowne: thy wit, thy learning's lost.The further search I make, the worse effect I finde:All Asia swarmes with huge impietie:All Affrick's bent vnto a bloody minde:all treachers[178]gainst Ioue and his great deitie.Let vs returne to famous Britton's king,whose worthy praise let all the world goe sing,Great Tetragramaton, out of thy bounteous louelet all the world and nations truely know,That he plants peace, and quarrell doth remoue:let him be great'st on all the earth belowe.Long may he liue, and all the world admire,that peace is wrought as they themselues desire.What Vnion he hath brought to late perfection,twixt Nations that hath so long contended:Their warres and enuies by him receiue correction,And in his royal person all their iars are ended.And so in briefe conclude, ought all that liuegiue thanks to him for ioy that peace doth giue.By power and will of this our mightie kingreason doth shew that God hath wroght a wonder:Countries distract he doth to Vnion bringand ioynes together States which others sunder:God grant him life till Shiloe's comming bein heauen's high seate he may enthronized be.

Whilom of old before the earth was founded,or hearbs or trees or plants or beasts, had being,Or that the mightie Canopie of heauen surroundedthese lower creatures; ere that the eye had seeing:Then Reason was within the mind of Ioue,embracing only amitie and loue.

The blessed angels' formes and admirable natures,their happie states, their liues and high perfections,Immortall essence and vnmeasured statures,the more made known their falls and low directions.These things when Reason doth peruseshe finds her errors, which she would excuse.

But out alas! she sees strife is all in vaine;it bootes not to contend, or stand in this defence.Death, sorow, grief, hell and torments are her gaine,and endlesse burning fire, becomes our recompence.Oh heauie moane! oh endlesse sorrowes anguish,neuer to cease but euer still to languish.

When I peruse the state of prime created man,his wealth, his dignitie and reason:His power, his pleasure, his greatnesse when I scan,I doe admire and wonder, that in so short a season,These noble parts, should haue so short conclusion:and man himselfe, be brought to such confusion.

In seeking countries far beyond the seas, I finde,euen where faire Eden's pleasant garden stood:And all the coasts vnto the same confinde,gall to cruell wars; men's hands embru'd in blood,In cutting throats, and murders, men delight:so from these places Reason's banisht quite.

O Ierusalem! that thou shouldst now turn Turke,and Sions hil, where holy rites of yore were vs'd:Oh! that within that holy place should lurkesuch sacrilege: whereby Ioue's name's abusde.What famous Greece, farewel: thou canst not bostthy great renowne: thy wit, thy learning's lost.

The further search I make, the worse effect I finde:All Asia swarmes with huge impietie:All Affrick's bent vnto a bloody minde:all treachers[178]gainst Ioue and his great deitie.Let vs returne to famous Britton's king,whose worthy praise let all the world goe sing,

Great Tetragramaton, out of thy bounteous louelet all the world and nations truely know,That he plants peace, and quarrell doth remoue:let him be great'st on all the earth belowe.Long may he liue, and all the world admire,that peace is wrought as they themselues desire.

What Vnion he hath brought to late perfection,twixt Nations that hath so long contended:Their warres and enuies by him receiue correction,And in his royal person all their iars are ended.And so in briefe conclude, ought all that liuegiue thanks to him for ioy that peace doth giue.

By power and will of this our mightie kingreason doth shew that God hath wroght a wonder:Countries distract he doth to Vnion bringand ioynes together States which others sunder:God grant him life till Shiloe's comming bein heauen's high seate he may enthronized be.

VIII. ON THE DEATH OF LORD CHANCELLOR ELLESMERE'S SECOND WIFE IN 1599.[179]

You, that in Judgement passion never show,(As still a Judge should without passion bee),So judge your selfe; and make not in your woeAgainst your self a passionate decree.Griefe may become so weake a spirit as mine:My prop is fallne, and quenchèd is my light:But th' Elme may stand, when with'red is the vine,And, though the Moone eclipse, the Sunne is bright.

Yet were I senselesse if I wisht your mind,Insensible, that nothing might it move;As if a man might not bee wise and kind.Doubtlesse the God of Wisdome and of Loue,As Solomon's braine he doth to you impart,So hath he given you David's tender hart.

Yr. Lps in all humble Duties and condoling with yr. Lp. most affectionately

Jo. Davys.

IX. TITYRUSTO HIS FAIREPHILLIS.[180]

The silly Swaine whose loue breedes discontent,Thinkes death a trifle, life a loathsome thing,Sad he lookes, sad he lyes.But when his Fortunes mallice doth relent,Then of Loues sweetnes he will sweetly sing,Thus he liues, thus he dyes.ThenTityruswhom Loue hath happy made,Will rest thrice happy in this Mirtle shade.For though Loue at first did greeue him:yet did Loue at last releeue him.I. D.

The silly Swaine whose loue breedes discontent,Thinkes death a trifle, life a loathsome thing,Sad he lookes, sad he lyes.

But when his Fortunes mallice doth relent,Then of Loues sweetnes he will sweetly sing,Thus he liues, thus he dyes.

ThenTityruswhom Loue hath happy made,Will rest thrice happy in this Mirtle shade.For though Loue at first did greeue him:yet did Loue at last releeue him.

I. D.

UPON A COFFIN BY S. J. D.

There was a man bespake a thingWhich when the owner home did bring,He that made it did refuse it;And he that brought it would not use it,And he that hath it doth not knowWhether he hath it, ay or no.

From "The Curtaine-Drawer of the Worlde ...by W. Parkes, Gentleman ... 1621.[181]

X. EPITAPH AND EPIGRAM.

Sir John Davies had a son who became, if he were not born, an idiot. Anthony-a-Wood states "The son dying, Sir John made an epitaph of four verses on him, beginning

Hic in visceribus terræ &c."

It is much to be wished that these 'four verses' were recovered. Further, he had a daughter named 'Lucy'; and of her the same authority writes: "So that the said Lucy being sole heiress to her father, Ferdinando, Lord Hastings, (afterwards Earl of Huntingdon) became a suitor to her for marriage; whereupon the father made this Epigram:

Lucida visoculos teneri perstrinxit amantisNec tamen erravit namVia Dulciserat."

On thisWattsremarks: "This is a remarkable anagram of Lucy Davies. See as remarkable ones on the mother Eleanor Davies,Reveal O Daniel, by herself, the other made on her byDr. Lamb,—Dame Eleanor Davies,Never so mad a Lady. Heylin's Life of Laud p. 266." Wood's Athenæ, (edn. by Bliss) Vol. II. p. 404. G.

METAPHRASE OF SOME OF THE PSALMS, &c.

NOTE.

TheManuscript Volumefrom which the following hitherto unpublishedPoemsare taken, is the property ofDavid Laing, Esq., LL.D.,Edinburgh, who purchased it, or perhaps obtained it in exchange many years ago from the Rev. John Jamieson, D.D., author of the "Scottish Dictionary" and other learned works—a scholar of full learning and to be held in honour in many respects. It was parted with to his like-minded friend as containing the hitherto unprinted 'Psalms,' &c., bySir John Davies; but no memorial remains to ascertain the quarter from whence Dr. Jamieson obtained the Volume. Mr. Laing states that, if anything was said at the time on the subject, it has escaped his recollection; and this cannot be wondered at, as it must have been from thirty to forty years ago.

Along with eminent Experts I have carefully compared this Manuscript with undoubted holographs ofSir John Davies, preserved in Her Majesty's State Paper Office (State Papers: Domestic. James I. Vol. 173. No. 54: Oct. 18, 1624, etc., etc.) and among the Harleian MSS. in the British Museum—the former being preferable as being of the same year-date with ours: and I feel constrained to pronounce it throughout non-autograph. There are at leastFIVEhandwritings in the volume—as more particularlydescribedin locis: but none bears a resemblance toSir John Davies'. The Manuscript, therefore, belongs to a class that abounds at the Period, viz, a Scribe's transcript and which closely resembles that of MS. Speeches and other writings ofDaviespreserved among theHarleianMSS. This is further, in accord withSir John Davies'practice, as appears by 'The Egerton Papers' of Mr. Collier, (Camden Society, 1840, I Vol. 40.) where in a letter toEllesmere(pp. 410-16) he apologizes for his own 'ill hand' and substitutes his 'man's.' The evidence forDavies'authorship of thesePoemsisEXTERNALandINTERNAL.

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