He knows, below, he shall find plenty of meat; way, With his brave son, the prince, they saw thy fires To entertain them; or the country came, heaped On thy good lady, then! who therein reaped The mysteries of manners, arms, and arts. Those proud ambitious heaps, and nothing else, May say, their lords have built, but thy lord dwells. III. TO SIR ROBERT WROTH.7 How blessed art thou, canst love the country, Wroth, Whether by choice, or fate, or both! And though so near the city, and the court, Nor com'st to view the better cloth of state, Nor throng'st, (when masquing is), to have a sight Of the short bravery of the night; To view the jewels, stuffs, the pains, the wit But canst at home, in thy securer rest, 7 The Wroths were seated at Durance, in Middlesex, so far back as the early part of the fifteenth century. Sir Thomas Wroth in the reign of Queen Mary, says Fuller, fled over to Germany for his religion; and yet the name of Wroth was the only one of the gentry of Middlesex that was found surviving in the county one hundred and sixty years afterwards. Sir Robert Wroth was the husband of the lady to whom two previous epigrams are addressed. See ante, pp. 58, 60. — B. Live with unbought provision blest; Free from proud porches, or the gilded roofs, To some cool courteous shade, which he calls his, Or if thou list the night in watch to break, 8 In spring, oft roused for thy master's sport, In autumn, at the partridge mak'st a flight, While all that follow, their glad ears apply Or hawking at the river, or the bush, Thou dost with some delight the day outwear, The whilst the several seasons thou hast seen 8 James I. is said to have been a frequent guest at the house of Sir Robert Wroth.-B. That is, for the greater game which frequented it. This, which was the afternoon's amusement, is noticed by many of our old writers. Sir Topas was much attached to it, if we may trust Chaucer: "He couth hunt at the wild dere And ride an hawking by the rivere."- -G. Of flowery fields, of copses green, The mowed meadows, with the fleeced sheep, The ripened ears, yet humble in their height, Thus Pan and Sylvan having had their rites, And fills thy open hall with mirth and cheer, Apollo's harp, and Hermes' lyre resound, grace, And the great heroes of her race Sit mixed with loss of state, or reverence; The jolly wassail walks the often round, And in their cups their cares are drowned; They think not then which side the cause shall leese, Nor how to get the lawyer fees. Such, and no other, was that age of old, Which boasts t' have had the head of gold; 10 Sidney. And such, since thou canst make thine own con tent, Strive, Wroth, to live long innocent. Let others watch in guilty arms, and stand Go enter breaches, meet the cannon's rage, And change possessions oftener with his breath, Let him, than hardest sires, more disinherit, To blow up orphans, widows, and their states; Get place and honor, and be glad to keep And so they ride in purple, eat in plate, Thy peace is made; and, when man's state is well, |