Nor do wrongs, nor wrongs receive, X. ANOTHER LADY'S EXCEPTION, PRESENT AT THE HEARING. OR his mind I do not care, His clothes rich, and band sit neat, Himself young, and face be good, All I wish is understood. What you please, you parts may call, 8 This lively, gallant, and graceful description is above all praise. Anacreon is not more gay, nor Catullus more elegant, nor Horace more courtly, than this poet, who is taken on the faith of the Shakspeare commentators, for a mere compound of dulness and spleen. COME, with our voices, let us war, He. At such a call, what beast or fowl, What tree or stone doth want a soul, She. Mix then your notes, that we may prove To make the mountain quarries move, 1 I have little to add to what is already said, (p. 282,) except that many allowances must be made for what follows. Few of these poems are dated, and fewer still bear titles explanatory of their subject. I have availed myself of such collateral helps as I could any where find; but much is necessarily left to the reader's own sagacity. The original text, which is grossly incorrect, has however been revised with great care. He. What need of me? do you but sing, No tunes are sweet, nor words have sting, She. They say, the angels mark each deed, And out of inward pleasure feed On what they viewing know. He. O sing not you then, lest the best To fall again, at such a feast, She. Nay, rather both our souls be strain'd So they in state of grace retain'd, May wish us of their quire. II. A SONG. H do not wanton with those eyes, Nor cast them down, but let them rise, O be not angry with those fires, O do not steep them in thy tears, 2 Mine own enough betray me.] How is it that this song is never III. IN THE PERSON OF WOMANKIND. A SONG APOLOGETIC. EN, if you love us, play no more M The fools or tyrants with your friends, Our own false praises, for your ends: Nor do we doubt, but that we can, We shall at last, of parcels make And as a cunning painter takes In any curious piece you see, More pleasure while the thing he makes, mentioned by the critics? Simply, I believe, because they never read it. Two or three of Jonson's lyrics are noticed by the earlier compilers of our Anthologies, and these have been copied and recopied a thousand times. Hence the Aikins et id genus omne form their opinion of the poet, and groan over his " tedious effusions." With respect to the present, if it be not the most beautiful song in the language, I freely confess, for my own part, that I know not where it is to be found. IV. ANOTHER, IN DEFENCE OF THEIR INCONSTANCY. ANG up those dull and envious fools That talk abroad of woman's change. Such as in valour would excel, Do change, though men, and often fight, Which we in love must do as well, If ever we will love aright: The frequent varying of the deed, Nor is't inconstancy to change The good from bad is not descried, And this profession of a store In love, doth not alone help forth For were the worthiest woman curst |