any doubt, And then your grace need not make The king he laughed, and fwore by St. Jone, 96 "Yea, that shall I do, and make your grace merry: The king he laughed, and swore by the maffe, Four nobles a weeke, then I will give thee, 105 And tell the old abbot when thou comeft home, VII. YOU MEANER BEAUTIES. This little Sonnet was written by Sir HENRY WOTTON Knight, on that amiable Princefs, Elizabeth daughter of James I. and wife of the Elector Palatine, who was chofen King of Bahemia, Sept. 5. 1619. The confequences of this fatal election are well known: Sir Henry Wotton, who in that and the following year was employed in several embaffies in Germany on behalf of this unfortunate lady, feems to have had an uncommon attachment to her merit and fortunes, for be gave away a jewel worth a thousand pounds, that was prefented to him by the Emperor," because it came from an "enemy to bis rayal mistress the Queen of Bohemia." See Biog. Britan. This fong is printed from the Reliquiæ Wottonianæ 1651. with fome corrections from an old MS. copy. OU meaner beauties of the night, YOU Which poorly fatisfie our eies More by your number, then your light; You common people of the skies, What are you when the Sun fhall rife? 5 Ye Ye violets that first appeare, By your pure purple mantles known As if the Spring were all your own ; Ye curious chaunters of the wood, That warble forth dame Nature's layes, By your weak accents: what's your praise, When Philomell her voyce shall raise ? So when my miftris fhal be seene In fweetneffe of her looks and minde; 10 20 VIII. THE OLD AND YOUNG COURTIER. This excellent old fong, the fubject of which is a comparifon between the manners of the old gentry, as ftill fubfifting in the times of Elizabeth, and the modern refinements af fected fected by their fons in the reigns of her fucceffors, is given from an ancient black-letter copy in the Pepys collection, compared with another printed among fome miscellaneous poems and fongs" a book intituled, "Le Prince d' amour." ." 1660. 8vo.. A N old fong made by an aged old pate, Of an old worshipful gentleman, who had a greate That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate, And the queen's old courtier. With an old lady, whofe anger one word affwages; This every quarter paid their old fervants their wages, And never knew what belong'd to coachmen, footmen, nor pages, But kept twenty old fellows with blue coats and badges; Like an old courtier, &c. With an old study fill'd full of learned old books, With an old reverend chaplain, you might know him by his looks. With an old buttery hatch worn quite off the hooks, And an old kitchen, that maintain'd half a dozen old cocks; With an old hall, hung about with pikes, guns, and bows, With old fwords, and bucklers, that had born many fhrewde blows, And an old frize coat, to cover his worship's trunk hofe, And a cup of old fherry, to comfort his copper nofe; Like an old courtier, &c. With a good old fashion, when Christmasse was come, To call in all his old neighbours with bagpipe, and drum, With good chear enough to furnish every old room, And old liquor able to make a cat speak, and man dumb, Like an old courtier, &c. With an old falconer, huntfman, and a kennel of hounds, That never hawked, nor hunted, but in his own grounds, Who, like a wife man, kept himself within his own bounds, And when he dyed gave every child a thousand good pounds; Like an old courtier, &c. But to his eldeft fon his houfe and land he affign'd, Charging him in his will to keep the old bountifull mind, To be good to his old tenants, and to his neighbours be kind: But in the enfuing ditty you fhall hear how he was inclin'd; Like a young courtier of the king's, Like |