He lives, he lives.

EEP no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more
for Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead,
sunk tho' he be beneath the watery floor:

so sinks the day-star in the ocean-bed,

and yet anon repairs his drooping head

and tricks his beams and with new-spangled ore flames in the forehead of the morning sky:

so Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high,

through the dear might of Him that walked the waves;

where other groves and other streams along

with nectar pure

his oozy

locks he laves,

and hears the unexpressive nuptial song
in the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love.
there entertain him all the saints above
in solemn troops and sweet societies,
that sing and singing in their glory move,
and wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no more:
henceforth thou art the Genius of the shore
in thy large recompense, and shalt be good
to all that wander in the perilous flood.

MILTON.

Grace and Will.

ITHIN the infant rind of this small flower poison hath residence and medicine power; two such opposed foes encamp them still in men as well as herbs, grace and rude will; and, where the worser is predominant, full soon the canker death eats up that plant.

SHAKESPEARE.

Non periit Lycidas.

ISTITE lugubrem, pastores, sistite fletum: non periit vester Lycidas dolor, ut sit aquarum marmora demersus subter: sic mergitur alto oceani gremio radiatum insigne diei,

et tamen actutum languens caput erigit, ignes
instaurans, aurique novo splendente metallo
in matutini flagrat primo aetheris ore.
sic, alte Lycidas mersus modo, tollitur alte
Illius virtute, pedes qui fluctibus ibat;
iamque novos propter lucos, nova flumina, crines
ipse lavit puro lutulentos nectare, et audit
in faustis hymenaeon, inenarrabile carmen,
mitibus in regnis, ubi gaudia amorque perennant.
illic omnis eum quae suprast turba piorum
excipit: inter se sollemnibus illa maniplis
iucundisque sodaliciis canit inque canendo
fertur ovans, lacrimasque viro deterget in aevum.
nunc, Lycida, non flent pastores: litoris hinc iam
perpetuum tutamen habes fruerisque laborum
ingenti mercede, et eris bonus ipse vaganti,
gurgitis illius quicumque pericula temptat.

H. A. J. M.

Intra muros pugnatur.

N ubi nascentis tenui sub germine floris non sine vi medica dira venena latent! sic hominum mentes ratioque et bruta libido oppositis certant viribus utra regat; et, quam deterior victa meliore gubernat, ut flos, mortifero mens ea felle perit.

A sad Song.

EEP no more nor sigh nor groan;
sorrow calls no time that's gone;

violets plucked the sweetest rain

makes not fresh nor grow again.
trim thy locks, look chearfully;
fate's hid ends eyes cannot see:
joys as wingéd dreams fly fast;
why should sadness longer last?
grief is but a wound to woe;
gentlest fair, mourn, mourn no mo.

A Perfect Woman.

J. FLETCHER.

HIS morning timely rapt with holy fire

I thought to form unto my zealous Muse what kind of creature I could most desire to honour, serve, and love, as poets use. I meant the day-star should not brighter rise, nor lend like influence from his lucent seat; I meant each softest virtue there should meet, fit in that softer bosom to reside.

only a learned and a manly soul

I purposed her, that should with even powers the rock, the spindle, and the shears control

of Destiny, and spin her own free hours; such when I meant to feign, and wished to see, my muse bade Bedford write, and that was she.

A Sweeping Charge.

B. JONSON.

EN have many faults, women only two: nothing right they say, nothing right they do.

A.

Parcendum lacrimis.

ITTE procul lacrimas, gemitus, suspiria mitte; praeteritos revocat lacrima nulla dies;

nec violis semel excerptis dulcissimus imber aut vitam aut venerem, quae fuit ante, refert. fac niteant crines, vultus assume serenos,

mortales oculos abdita fata latent. gaudia diffuginut rapidis, ut somnia, pennis; qui velit aerumnas tardius ire, quis est? vulnera pectoribus fletus lugentibus addit: parce igitur lacrimis, lux mea, parce tuis.

Γενναία γυνή.

E. B. M.

ATUTINUS ego et iam prima luce iubebam
Pierin insolito concitus igne meam

fingere cui servirem, et quam me vate fidelis cultus et aeternus prosequeretur honos. luciferum, dixi, ne surgere pulchrius astrum blandius aut possit spargere sede iubar: adsit in hac virtus mollissima quaeque puella, pectore quas sancto mollior ipsa colat. at fortem, dixi, doctamque huic insere mentem, quae sibi confidens ipsa suique potens forcipibusque suis semper fusisque fruatur, temperet et fati libera fila sui.

talem ego cum cuperem nec posse videre putarem, Musa mihi: 'pones Eucharin': ipsa fuit.

G. J. K.

Multum in Parvo.

IR premitur vitiis centenis: non nisi binis femina nil loquitur, nil facit illa boni.

K.

HAVE a boy,

The Page.

sent by the gods, I hope, to this intent,

not yet seen in the court. hunting the buck, I found him sitting by a fountain's side,

of which he borrowed some to quench his thirst, and paid the nymph again as much in tears. a garland lay him by, made by himself, of many several flowers, bred in the bay, stuck in that mystic order, that the rareness delighted me but ever when he turned his tender eyes upon 'em, he would weep, as if he meant to make 'em grow again. seeing such pretty helpless innocence dwell in his face, I asked him all his story. he told me that his parents gentle died, leaving him to the mercy of the fields,

which gave him roots: and of the crystal springs, which did not stop their courses; and the sun, which still, he thanked him, yielded him his light. then took he up his garland, and did shew what every flower, as country people hold, did signify; and how all, ordered thus,

expressed his grief; and, to my thoughts, did read the prettiest lecture of his country art

that could be wished: so that, methought, I could have studied it. I gladly entertained