Thus sang they in the English boat
A holy and a cheerful note,

And all the way, to guide their chime,
With falling oars they kept the time.

Andrew Marvell.

LYRICS FROM THE OLDER WRITERS.

.I. THE SONGS OF BIRDS.

WHAT bird so sings, yet so does wail?
Oh 'tis the ravished nightingale!
“Jug, jug, jug, tereu!" she cries,
And still her woes at midnight rise.
Brave prick song! Who is 't now we hear?
None but the lark so shrill and clear;
Now at heaven's gates2 she claps her wings,
The morn not waking till she sings.
Hark! hark! with what a pretty throat
Poor robin-redbreast tunes his note!
Hark! how the jolly cuckoos sing!
Cuckoo! to welcome in the spring.
Cuckoo! to welcome in the spring.

II. THE FAIRY'S SONG.

OVER hill, over dale,

Lyly (born 1553).

Thorough bush, thorough brier;
Over park, over pale,

Thorough flood, thorough fire,
I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moon's sphere;
And I serve the Fairy Queen,

To dew her orbs3 upon the green ;

(1) Prick song-Elaborate and ornamented music pricked out in harmony-as distinguished from plain song, which consisted of simple melody.

(2) Heaven's gates-See the "Reveillé," p. 172, where we find Shakspere using the same expression-probably borrowed from Lyly. Milton also adopts it (see p. 340):

"Ye birds

That singing up to heaven's gate ascend."

(3) To dew her orbs, &c.—The orbs are the fairy rings, as they are popularly called, and the fairy's office was to dew or water them after they had been worn dry by the merry little dancers.

The cowslips tall her pensioners1 be;
In their gold coats spots you see—
These be rubies, fairy favours,
In those freckles live their savours:
I must go seek some dewdrops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.

III. WINTER.

Shakspere (born 1564).

WHEN icicles hang by the wall,

And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
And Tom bears logs into the hall,

And milk comes frozen home in pail,
When blood is nipt, and ways be foul,2
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whoo!

Tu-whit! tu-whoo! a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel3 the pot.
When all aloud the wind doth blow,
And coughing drowns the parson's saw,*
And birds sit brooding in the snow,

And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whoo!

Tu-whit! tu-whoo! a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

IV. INGRATITUDE.

BLOW, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind

As man's ingratitude;

Thy tooth is not so keen
Because thou art not seen,

Although thy breath be rude.

4

Shakspere.

"Queen

(1) Pensioners-Body-guard. "They were" (says Charles Knight) Elizabeth's favourite attendants. They were the handsomest men of the first families-tall as the eowslip was to the fairy, and shining in their spotted gold coats like that flower under an April sun."

(2) Ways be foul-the roads are dirty.

(3) Keel-skim, according to some; others say it means to cool.

(4) Saw from saya saying. Shakspere, in "The Seven Ages" (see p. 283), speaks of "wise saws, and modern instances."

(5) Crabs-i. e. apples, which it was usual to put into the wassail-bowl.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
Thou dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot;

Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp

As friend remembered not.

V. THE REVEILLE.

Shakspere.

HARK! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,

And Phoebus 'gins arise,

His steeds' to water at those springs

On chaliced flowers that lies; 2

And winking marybuds begin

To ope their golden eyes;

With every thing that pretty bin;3
My lady sweet, arise;
Arise, arise!

VI. ARIEL'S SONG.

WHERE the bee sucks there suck I;

In a cowslip's bell I lie;

There I couch when owls do cry;
On the bat's wing I do fly
After summer, merrily;

Merrily, merrily, shall I live now,

Shakspere.

Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

VII. AMIENS' SONG.

UNDER the greenwood tree,

Who loves to lie with me,

And tune his merry note

Unto the sweet bird's throat,

Come hither, come hither, come hither,

Here shall we see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

Shakspere.

(1) His steeds, &c.-i. e. the sun begins to drink up the dew from the cups of the flowers; a more exquisite application of the mythological fable can scarcely be conceived.

(2) That lies-i. e. the springs that lies. See a remark on a similar expression in note 2, p. 140.

(3) Bin-an old form of the 3rd person, for which we now have is and are.

VIII. HYMN TO DIANA.1

QUEEN and huntress, chaste and fair,

Now the sun is laid to sleep,

Seated in thy silver car,

State in wonted manner keep;
Hesperus entreats thy light,
Goddess excellently bright!
Earth, let not thy envious shade,
Dare itself to interpose;
Cynthia's shining orb was made
Heaven to clear when day did close:
Bless us then with wished sight,
Goddess excellently bright!

Lay thy bow of pearl apart,
And thy crystal shining quiver;
Give unto the flying hart

Space to breathe, how short soever;
Thou that makest a day of night,
Goddess excellently bright!

Shakspere.

Ben Jonson (born 1574).

IX. TO FANCY, AT NIGHT.

BREAK, Fancy, from thy cave of cloud,
And spread thy purple wings;
Now all thy figures are allowed,
And various shapes of things;
Create of airy forms a stream,

It must have blood3 and nought of phlegm;
And though it be a waking dream,

(1) Diana is here addressed as the moon, though reference is incidentally made to her functions as goddess of hunting.

(2) Hesperus-God of evening.

(3) It must have, &c.-The "stream" or procession of airy forms must have warmth and animation, and not consist merely of cold and unimpressive figures.

Yet let it like an odour rise,1
To all the senses here,

And fall like sleep upon their

Or music on their ear.

eyes,

Ben Jonson.

X. TO BLOSSOMS.

FAIR pledges of a fruitful tree,
Why do you fall so fast?
Your date is not so past,
But you may stay yet here awhile,
To blush and gently smile,
And go at last.

What! were ye born to be
An hour or half's delight,
And so to bid good night?
'Twas pity nature brought ye forth
Merely to show your worth,
And lose you quite.

But you are lovely leaves, where we
May read how soon things have
Their end, though ne'er so brave: 2
And after they have shown their pride,
Like you, awhile, they glide

Into the grave.

Herrick (born 1591),

(1) Like an odour, &c -The closing lines remind us of the rising of Pandemonium, "like an exhalation," in Milton's magnificent description. (See p. 323.) (2) Brave-in the old sense-fine, gay, glorious.