LXXXIV. TO LUCY, COUNTESS OF BEDFORD. Madam, I told you late how I repented,

I asked a lord a buck, and he denied me; And, ere I could ask

you, I was prevented, For your most noble offer had supplied me. Straight went I home; and there, most like a

poet, I fancied to myself what wine, what wit I would have spent; how every Muse should

know it, And Phæbus' self should be at eating it. O Madam, if your grant did thus transfer me, Make it your gift! 53 See whither that will

bear me.

LXXXV.

TO SIR HENRY GOODYERE.54 Goodyere, I'm glad and grateful to report Myself a witness of thy few days' sport: Where I both learned why wise men hawking

follow,

.

63 She had probably offered him a warrant for one: the object of the epigram seems to be that it should be sent home to him.- G.

64 A gentleman of fortune who resided at Polesworth, in Warwickshire, and who is frequently alluded to in the literary : history of the time from his extensive intercourse with men of letters. He was the intimate associate of Donne. Jouson justly compliments him in the succeeding epigram, one of the happiest in the collection, on his choice of friends and books. Sir Henry Goodyere, however, did not cultivate literature with much success himself. -- B.

And why that bird was sacred to Apollo;
She doth instruct men by her gallant flight,
That they to knowledge so should tower upright,
And never stoop but to strike ignorance;
Which if they miss, they yet should readvance
To former height, and there in circle tarry,
Till they be sure to make the fool their quarry.
Now, in whose pleasures I have this discerned,
What would his serious actions me have learned ?

TO THE SAME.

LXXXVI. When I would know thee, Goodyere, my thought

looks Upon thy well-made choice of friends and books; Then do I love thee, and behold thy ends In making thy friends books, and thy books

friends; Now, I must give thy life and deed the voice Attending such a study, such a choice; Where, though 't be love that to thy praise doth

move, It was a knowledge that begat that love.

a

LXXXVII. ON CAPTAIN HAZARD, THE CHEATER. Touched with the sin of false play, in his punk, Hazard a month forswore his; and grew drunk Each night to drown his cares; but when the gain Of what she'd wrought came in, and waked his

brain, Upon th’ accompt, hers grew the quicker trade; Since when, he's sober again, and all play's made.

LXXXVIII.

ON ENGLISH MONSIEUR. Would you believe, when you

this Monsieur see, That his whole body should speak French, not he? That so much scarf of France, and hat, and feather, And shoe, and tie, and garter should come hither, And land on one whose face durst never be Toward the sea, farther than half-way tree ? 55 That he, untravelled, should be French so much, As Frenchmen in his company should seem

Dutch ? Or had his father, when he did him get, The French disease, with which he labors yet? Or hung some Monsieur's picture on the wall, By which his dam conceived him, clothes and all ? Or is it some French statue ? No; 't doth move, And stoop, and cringe. O then, it needs must

prove The new French tailor's motion, monthly made, Daily to turn in Paul's, and help the trade.

If Rome so great, and in her wisest age,
Feared not to boast the glories of her stage,

As skilful 57 Roscius, and grave Æsop, men,
Yet crowned with honors, as with riches then;
Who had no less a trumpet of their name
Than Cicero, whose every breath was fame;
How can so great example die in me,
That, Allen, I should pause to publish thee?
Who both their graces in thyself hast more

Outstripped, than they did all that went before;
And present worth in all dost so contract,
As others speak, but only thou dost act.
Wear this renown. 'Tis just, that who did give
So many poets life, by one should live.

XC.

a

ON MILL, MY LADY'S WOMAN. When Mill first came to court, the unprofiting

fool, Unworthy such a mistress, such a school, Was dull, and long ere she would go to man; At last, ease, appetite, and example won The nicer thing to taste her lady's page; And, finding good security in his age, Went on; and proving him still, day by day, Discerned no difference of his years or play. Not though that hair grew brown, which once

was amber, And he grown youth, was called to his lady's

chamber, Still Mill continued: nay, his face growing

worse, And he removed to gent'man of the horse, Mill was the same. Since, both his body and

face Blown up; and he too unwieldy for that place) Hatlı got the steward's chair; he will not tarry Longer a day, but with his Mill will marry. And it is hoped, that she, like Milo, wull First bearing him a calf, bear him a bull.