TEXNOTAMIA; OR, THE MARRIAGE OF THE ARTS.

TOBACCO'S

TOBACCO.

TOBACCO'S a Musician,
And in a pipe delighteth;

It descends in a close,

Through the organs of the nose,
With a relish that inviteth.

This makes me sing So ho, ho; So ho, ho, boys,
Ho boys, sound I loudly;

Earth ne'er did breed
Such a jovial weed,

Whereof to boast so proudly.

Tobacco is a Lawyer,

His pipes do love long cases,
When our brains it enters,

Our feet do make indentures,

While we seal with stamping paces.

This makes me sing, &c.

Tobacco's a Physician,

Good both for sound and sickly;

"Tis a hot perfume

That expels cold rheum,

And makes it flow down quickly.

1630.

This makes me sing, &c.

Tobacco is a Traveller,

Come from the Indies hither;

It passed sea and land,

Ere it came to my hand,

And 'scaped the wind and weather.

This makes me sing, &c.

Tobacco is a Critic,

That still old paper turneth,

Whose labour and care
Is as smoke in the air

That ascends from a rag when it burneth.

This makes me sing, &c.

[WITH Shirley terminates the roll of the great writers whose works form a distinct era in our dramatic literature. He was the last of a race of giants. Born in the reign of Elizabeth, he lived to witness the Restoration, and carried down to the time of Charles I. the moral and poetical elements of the age of Shakespeare. New modes and a new language set in with the Restoration; and the line that separates Shirley from his immediate successors is as clearly defined and as broadly marked as if a century had elapsed between them.

Shirley was educated at Merchant-Tailors' School, and from thence removed to St. John's College, Oxford, which he afterwards left to complete his collegiate course at Cambridge. Having entered holy orders, he was appointed to a living at or near St. Albans, in Hertfordshire; but subsequently renounced his ministry, in consequence of having embraced the doctrines of the Church of Rome. For a short time he found occupation as a teacher in a grammar-school, a life of drudgery which he soon relinquished to become a writer for the stage. He produced altogether thirty-three plays; and not the least

THE DRAMATISTS.

15

remarkable circumstance connected with them is that, instead of going to other sources for his plots, he invented nearly the whole of them. Vigour and variety of expression, and richness of imagery are amongst his conspicuous merits; and, making reasonable allowance for occasional confusion in the imbroglio of his more complicated fables, arising, no doubt, from hasty composition, the action of his dramas is generally contrived and evolved with considerable skill.

Shirley died in 1666. Wood tells us that the fire of London drove him and his wife from their residence near Fleet-street into the parish of St. Giles's-in-the-Fields, and that the alarm and losses they sustained took so severe an effect upon them that they both died on the same day.]

LOVE TRICKS. 1624.

SHEPHERDS AND SHEPHERDESSES.

W

OODMEN, shepherds, come away,

This is Pan's great holiday,

Throw off cares,

With your heaven-aspiring airs

Help us to sing,

While valleys with your echoes sing.

Nymphs that dwell within these groves
Leave your arbours, bring your loves,
Gather posies,

Crown your golden hair with roses;

As you pass

Foot like fairies on the grass.

Joy crown our bowers!

Philomel,

Leave of Tereus' rape to tell.

Let trees dance,

As they at Thracian lyre did once;

Mountains play,

This is the shepherds' holiday.

IN

THE WITTY FAIR ONE. 1628.

LOVE'S HUE AND CRY.

N Love's name you are charged hereby
To make a speedy hue and cry,

After a face, who t'other day,
Came and stole my heart away;
For your directions in brief

These are best marks to know the thief:

Her hair a net of beams would prove,
Strong enough to captive Jove,
Playing the eagle; her clear brow

Is a comely field of snow.

A sparkling eye, so pure a gray
As when it shines it needs no day.
Ivory dwelleth on her nose;

Lilies, married to the rose,

Have made her cheek the nuptial bed;

Her lips betray their virgin red,

As they only blushed for this,
That they one another kiss;
But observe, beside the rest,
You shall know this felon best
By her tongue; for if your ear
Shall once a heavenly music hear,
Such as neither gods nor men
But from that voice shall hear again,
That, that is she, oh, take her t'ye,
None can rock heaven asleep but she.

THE BIRD IN A CAGE. 1632.

THE FOOL'S SONG.*

AMONG all sorts of people

The matter if we look well to;

* In this song, Shirley follows closely a similar exaltation of the

motley by Ben Jonson.-See ante, p. 114.

The fool is the best, he from the rest
Will carry away the bell too.
All places he is free of,

And foots it without blushing
At masks and plays, is not the bays
Thrust out, to let the plush in?
Your fool is fine, he's merry,

And of all men doth fear least,
At every word he jests with my lord,
And tickles my lady in earnest:
The fool doth pass the guard now,
He'll kiss his hand, and leg it,

When wise men prate, and forfeit their state,
Who but the fine fool will beg it?

He without fear can walk in

The streets that are so stony;

Your gallant sneaks, your merchant breaks, He's a fool that does owe no money.

THE TRIUMPH OF PEACE. 1633.

THE BREAKING UP OF THE MASQUE.

COME away, away, away,

See the dawning of the day,
Risen from the murmuring streams;
Some stars show with sickly beams,
What stock of flame they are allowed,
Each retiring to a cloud;
Bid your active sports adieu,
The morning else will blush for you.
Ye feather-footed hours run
To dress the chariot of the sun;
Harness the steeds, it quickly will
Be time to mount the eastern hill.
The lights grow pale with modest fears,
Lest you offend their sacred ears