The balls of his broad eyes roll'd in his head,
And glared betwixt a yellow and a red;
He look'd a lion, with a gloomy stare,
And o'er his eye-brows hung his matted hair:
Big-boned, and large of limbs, with sinews strong,
Broad-shoulder'd, and his arms were round and
long.

Four milk-white bulls (the Thracian use of old)
Were yoked to draw his car of burnish'd gold.
Upright he stood, and bore aloft his shield,
Conspicuous from afar, and overlook'd the field.
His surcoat was a bear-skin on his back;
His hair hung long behind, and glossy raven black.
His ample forehead bore a coronet

With sparkling diamonds, and with rubies set:
Ten brace, and more, of greyhounds, snowy fair,
And tall as stags, ran loose, and coursed around
his chair,
[bear;
A match for pards in flight, in grappling for the
With golden muzzles all their mouths were bound,
And collars of the same their necks surround.
Thus through the fields Lycurgus took his way;
His hundred knights attend in pomp and proud
array.

[gold.

To match this monarch, with strong Arcite came
Emetrius king of Inde, a mighty name,
On a bay courser, goodly to behold,
The trappings of his horse adorn'd with barbarous
Not Mars bestrode a steed with greater grace;
His surcoat o'er his arms was cloth of Thrace,
Adorn'd with pearls, all orient, round, and great;
His saddle was of gold, with emerald set.
His shoulders large a mantle did attire,
With rubies thick, and sparkling as the fire:
His amber-colour'd·locks in ringlets run, [sun:
With graceful negligence, and shone against the
His nose was aquiline, his eyes were blue,
Ruddy his lips, and fresh and fair his hue;
Some sprinkled freckles on his face were seen,
Whose dusk set off the whiteness of the skin:
His awful presence did the crowd surprise,
Nor durst the rash spectator meet his eyes,
Eyes that confess'd him born for kingly sway,
So fierce, they flash'd intolerable day.
His age in nature's youthful prime appear'd,
And just began to bloom his yellow beard,
Whene'er he spoke, his voice was heard around,
Loud as a trumpet, with silver sound.

A laurel wreathed his temples, fresh and green; And myrtle sprigs, the marks of love, were mix'd between.

Upon his fist he bore, for his delight,
An eagle well reclaim'd, and lily-white.

His hundred knights attend him to the war,
All arm'd for battle; save their heads were bare.
Words and devices blazed on every shield,
And pleasing was the terror of the field.
For kings, and dukes, and barons, you might see,
Like sparkling stars, though different in degree,
All for th' increase of arms, and love of chivalry.
Before the king tame leopards led the way,
And troops of lions innocently play.
So Bacchus through the conquer'd Indies rode,
And beasts in gambols frisk'd before the honest
god.

PREPARATIONS FOR THE TOURNAMENT. IN "PALAMON AND ARCITE."

IN Athens all was pleasure, mirth and play,
All proper to the spring, and sprightly May;
Which every soul inspired with such delight,
'Twas jesting all the day, and love at night.
Heaven smiled, and gladded was the heart of man;
And Venus had the world as when it first began.
At length in sleep their bodies they compose,
And dreamt the future fight, and early rose.

Now scarce the dawning day began to spring, As at a signal given, the streets with clamours ring:

At once the crowd arose; confused and high
Even from the heaven was heard a shouting cry,
For Mars was early up, and roused the sky.
The gods came downward to behold the wars,
Sharpening their sights, and leaning from their

stars.

The neighing of the generous horse was heard,
For battle by the busy groom prepared,
Rustling of harness, rattling of the shield,
Clattering of armour, furbish'd for the field,
Crowds to the castle mounted up the street,
Battering the pavement with their coursers' feet:
The greedy sight might there devour the gold
Of glittering arms, too dazzling to behold;
And polish'd steel that cast the view aside,
And crested morions, with their plumy pride.
Knights, with a long retinue of their squires,
In gaudy liveries march, and quaint attires.
One laced the helm, another held the lance,
A third the shining buckler did advance;
The courser paw'd the ground with restless feet,
And snorting foam'd, and champ'd the golden bit.
The smiths and armourers on palfreys ride,
Files in their hands, and hammers at their side,
And nails for loosen'd spears, and thongs for shields
provide.

The yeomen guard the streets, in seemly bands:
And clowns come crowding on with cudgels in

their hands.

The trumpets, next the gate, in order placed, Attend the sign to sound the martial blast; The palace-yard is fill'd with floating tides, And the last comers bear the former to the sides. The throng is in the midst: the common crew Shut out, the hall admits the better few; In knots they stand, or in a rank they walk, Serious in aspect, earnest in their talk: Factious, and favouring this or t' other side, As their strong fancy or weak reason guide: Their wagers back their wishes; numbers hold With the fair freckled king, and beard of gold, So vigorous are his eyes, such rays they cast, So prominent his eagle's beak is placed. But most their looks on the black monarch bend, His rising muscles and his brawn commend; His double-biting axe and beamy spear, Each asking a gigantic force to rear. All spoke as partial favour moved the mind; And, safe themselves, at other's cost divined.

Waked by the cries, th' Athenian chief arose, The knightly forms of combat to dispose;

And passing through th' obsequious guards, he sate
Conspicuous on a throne, sublime in state;
There, for the two contending knights he sent;
Arm'd cap-a-pee, with reverence low they bent.
He smiled on both, and with superior look
Alike their offered adoration took.
The people press on every side, to see
Their awful prince, and hear his high decree.
Then signing to their heralds with his hand,
They gave his orders from their lofty stand.
Silence is thrice enjoin'd; then thus aloud
The king at arms bespeaks the knights and
listening crowd.

Our sovereign lord has ponder'd in his mind
The means to spare the blood of gentle kind;
And of his grace, and inborn clemency,
He modifies his first severe decree!
The keener edge of battle to rebate,
The troops for honour fighting, not for hate.
He wills not death should terminate their strife;
And wounds, if wounds ensue, be short of life;
But issues, ere the fight his dread command,
That slings afar, and poniards hand to hand,
Be banish'd from the field; that none shall dare
With shorten'd sword to stab in closer war;
But in fair combat fight with manly strength,
Nor push with biting point, but strike at length.
The tourney is allow'd but one career,
Of the tough ash, with the sharp-grinded spear,
But knights unhorsed may rise from off the plain,
And fight on foot their honour to regain;
Nor, if at mischief taken, on the ground
Be slain, but prisoners to the pillar bound,
At either barrier placed; (nor captives made)
Be freed, or arm'd anew the fight invade.
The chief of either side, bereft of life,
Or yielded to his foe, concludes the strife.
Thus dooms the lord: now valiant knights and
young

Fight each his fill with swords and maces long.
The herald ends; the vaulted firmament
With loud acclaims and vast applause is rent:
Heaven guard a prince so gracious and so good,
So just, and yet so provident of blood!

This was the general cry. The trumpets sound,
And warlike symphony is heard around.
The marching troops through Athens take their

Th' Athenian monarch mounts his throne on high,
And after him the queen and Emily:
Next these the kindred of the crown are graced
With nearer seats, and lords by ladies placed.
Scarce were they seated, when with clamours
loud

In rush'd at once a rude promiscuous crowd;
The guards and them each other overbear,
And in a moment throng the spacious theatre,
Now changed the jarring noise to whispers low,
And winds forsaking seas more softly blow;
When at the western gate, on which the car
Is placed aloft, that bears the god of war,
Proud Arcite entering arm'd before his train,
Stops at the barrier, and divides the plain.
Red was his banner, and display'd abroad
The bloody colours of his patron God.

At that self-moment enters Palamon
The gate of Venus, and the rising sun;
Waved by the wanton winds, his banner flies
All maiden white, and shares the people's eyes.
From east to west, look all the world around,
Two troops so match'd were never to be found:
Such bodies built for strength, of equal age,
In stature fix'd: so proud an equipage:
The nicest eye could no distinction make,
Where lay th' advantage, or what side to take.

FROM "CYMON AND IPHIGENIA.”

IN that sweet isle where Venus keeps her court,
And every Grace, and all the Loves, resort;
Where either sex is form'd of softer earth,
And takes the bent of pleasure from their birth;
There lived a Cyprian lord, above the rest
Wise, wealthy, with a numerous issue bless'd;
But as no gift of fortune is sincere,
Was only wanting in a worthy heir;
His eldest born, a goodly youth to view,
Excell'd the rest in shape and outward show,
Fair, tall, his limbs with due proportion join'd,
But of a heavy, dull, degenerate mind.
His soul belied the features of his face;
Beauty was there, but beauty in disgrace.
A clownish mien, a voice with rustic sound,
And stupid eyes that ever loved the ground.
He look'd like nature's error, as the mind
And body were not of a piece design'd,
But made for two, and by mistake in one were
joined.

The ruling rod, the father's forming care,
Were exercised in vain on wit's despair;
The more inform'd the less he understood,
And deeper sunk by floundering in the mud.
Now scorn'd of all, and grown the public shame,
The people from Galesus changed his name,
And Cymon call'd, which signifies a brute,
So well his name did with his nature suit.

His father, when he found his labour lost, And care employ'd that answer'd not the cost, Chose an ungrateful object to remove, And loathed to see what nature made him love; So to his country farm the fool confined; Rude work well suited with a rustic mind.

And I so ravish'd with her heavenly note,
I stood intranced, and had no room for thought,
But, all o'er-power'd with ecstasy of bliss,
Was in a pleasing dream of paradise.

At length I waked, and, looking round the bower,
Search'd every tree, and pried on every flower,
If anywhere by chance I might espy
The rural poet of the melody,

For still methought she sung not far away;
At last I found her on a laurel spray.
Close by my side she sat, and fair in sight,
Full in a line against her opposite;
Where stood with eglantine the laurel twined,
And both their native sweets were well conjoin'd.

On the green bank I sat, and listen'd long,
(Sitting was more convenient for the song)
Nor till her lay was ended could I move,
But wish'd to dwell for ever in the grove;
Only methought the time too swiftly pass'd,
And every note I fear'd would be the last.
My sight, and smell, and hearing, were employ'd,
And all three senses in full gust enjoy'd;
And what alone did all the rest surpass,
The sweet possession of the fairy place:
Single, and conscious to myself alone
Of pleasures to the excluded world unknown;
Pleasures which nowhere else were to be found,
And all Elysium in a spot of ground.

Thus while I sat intent to see and hear,
And drew perfumes of more than vital air,
All suddenly I heard th' approaching sound
Of vocal music, on the enchanted ground;
An host of saints it seem'd, so full the quire,
As if the bless'd above did all conspire
To join their voices, and neglect the lyre.
At length there issued from the grove behind
A fair assembly of the female kind;
A train less fair, as ancient fathers tell,
Seduced the sons of heaven to rebel.

I pass their form, and every charming grace,
Less than an angel would their worth debase;
But their attire, like liveries of a kind
All rich and rare, is fresh within
In velvet white as snow the troop was gown'd,
my mind:
The seams with sparkling emeralds set around;
Their hoods and sleeves the same, and purfled o'er
With diamonds, pearls, and all the shining store
Of eastern pomp; their long descending train,
With rubies edged, and sapphires, swept the
plain;

High on their heads, with jewels richly set,
Each lady wore a radiant coronet.
Beneath the circles, all the quire was graced
With chaplets green on their fair foreheads
placed;

Of laurel some, of woodbine many more,
And wreaths of Agnus castus others bore:
These last, who with those virgin crowns were
dress'd,

Appear'd in higher honour than the rest.
They danced around; but in the midst was seen
A lady of a more majestic mien,

By stature and by beauty mark'd their sovereign queen.

She in the midst began with sober grace; Her servants' eyes were fix'd upon her face, And, as she moved or turn'd, her motions view'd, Methought she trod the ground with greater Her measures kept, and step by step pursued.

grace,

hear:

SIR CHARLES SEDLEY in his riper years made some atonement for the disgraces of a licentious youth, by his political conduct in opposing the arbitrary measures of James, and promoting the Revolution. King James had seduced his daughter, and made her Countess of Dorchester. "For making my daughter a countess," said Sedley, "I have helped to make his daughter a

queen." When his comedy of Bellamira was played, the roof fell in, and he was one of the very few that were hurt by the accident. A flatterer told him that the fire of the play had blown up the poet, house, and all. "No," he replied, "the play was so heavy that it broke down the house, and buried the poet in his own rubbish."

SONG IN "BELLAMIRA, OR THE MISTRESS.”
THYRSIS, unjustly you complain,

And tax my tender heart
With want of pity for your pain,
Or sense of your desert.
By secret and mysterious springs,
Alas! our passions move;
We women are fantastic things,
That like before we love.

You may be handsome and have wit,
Be secret and well bred:
The person love must to us fit,

He only can succeed.

Some die, yet never are believed;

Others we trust too soon, Helping ourselves to be deceived, And proud to be undone.

TO A VERY YOUNG LADY.
Aн Chloris! that I now could sit
As unconcern'd, as when
Your infant beauty could beget
No pleasure, nor no pain.
When I the dawn used to admire,
And praised the coming day;

I little thought the growing fire

Must take my rest away.

Your charms in harmless childhood lay,
Like metals in the mine,
Age from no face took more away,
Than youth conceal'd in thine.

[From "the Mulberry Garden, a comedy written by the Honourable Sir Charles Sedley," 4to, 1668. This song is commonly printed as the production of "the Right Honourable Duncan Forbes, Lord President of the Court of Session," and is said to have been composed in 1710. See Motherwell's Ancient Minstrelsy, p. 65; and another Editor of Old Songs has said that these "tender and pa thetic stanzas were addressed to Miss Mary Rose, the elegant and accomplished daughter of Hugh Rose, Esq. of

But as your charms insensibly
To their perfection prest,
Fond Love, as unperceived did fly,
And in my bosom rest.

My passion with your beauty grew,
And Cupid at my heart,
Still as his mother favour'd you,
Threw a new flaming dart.

Each gloried in their wanton part,
To make a lover, he
Employ'd the utmost of his art,
To make a Beauty, she.

Though now I slowly bend to love
Uncertain of my fate,

If your fair self my chains approve I shall my freedom hate.

Lovers, like dying men, may well
At first disorder'd be,

Since none alive can truly tell
What fortune they must see.*

SONG.

LOVE still has something of the sea,
From whence his mother rose;
No time his slaves from doubt can free,
Nor give their thoughts repose.

They are becalm'd in clearest days,
And in rough weather toss'd;
They wither under cold delays,
Or are in tempests lost.

Kilravock." Ritson commences his collection of English Songs with Sedley's verses; both Ritson and Park were ignorant of their Author; and Mr. Chambers, in his Scottish Songs, starts with it as a genuine production of old Scotland! Burns has ascribed it to Sir Peter Halket, of Pitferran. Forbes was born in 1685, seventeen years after the appearance of Sedley's comedy.-See Songs of England and Scotland, vol. i. p. 122.]