'Disdainful dame, how didst thou dare, So reckless to depart the ground That is allotted to thy share?'

And therewithal his godhead frown'd. 'I will,' quoth Nature, out of hand, Declare the cause I fled the land.

I undertook of late a piece

Of clay a featured face to frame,
To match the courtly dames of Greece,
That for their beauty bear the name;
But, O good father, now I see
This work of mine it will not be.

'Vicegerent, since you me assign'd

Below in earth, and gave me laws
On mortal wights, and will'd that kind
Should make and mar, as she saw cause:

Of right, I think, I may appeal,

And crave your help in this to deal.'

When Jove saw how the case did stand,

And that the work was well begun, He pray'd to have the helping hand Of other gods till he had done: With willing minds they all agreed, And set upon the clay with speed.

First Jove each limb did well dispose,
And makes a creature of the clay;
Next, Lady Venus she bestows

Her gallant gifts as best she may;
From face to foot, from top to toe,
She let no whit untouch'd to go.

1

When Venus had done what she could

In making of her carcase brave,
Then Pallas thought she might be bold
Among the rest a share to have;
A passing wit she did convey
Into this passing piece of clay.

Of Bacchus she no member had,
Save fingers fine and feat1 to see;
Her head with hair Apollo clad,

That gods had thought it gold to be:
So glist'ring was the tress in sight
Of this new form'd and featured wight.

Diana held her peace a space,

Until those other gods had done; At last,' quoth she, in Dian's chase With bow in hand this nymph shall run; And chief of all my noble train I will this virgin entertain.'

Then joyful Juno came and said,

'Since you to her so friendly are, I do appoint this noble maid

for war;

To match with Mars his peer
She shall the Countess Warwick be,
And yield Diana's bow to me.'

When to so good effect it came,

And every member had his grace, There wanted nothing but a name : By hap was Mercury then in place, That said, I pray you all agree, Pandora grant her name to be.

1 Feat:' neat.

'For since your godheads forged have
With one assent this noble dame,
And each to her a virtue gave,

This term agreeth to the same.'
The gods that heard Mercurius tell
This tale, did like it passing well.

Report was summon'd then in haste,
And will'd to bring his trump in hand,
To blow therewith a sounding blast,

That might be heard through Brutus' land.
Pandora straight the trumpet blew,
That each this Countess Warwick knew.

O seely1 Nature, born to pain,

O woful, wretched kind (I say),
That to forsake the soil were fain

To make this Countess out of clay:
But, O most friendly gods, that wold,
Vouchsafe to set your hands to mould.

In reference to the Miscellaneous Pieces which close this period, we need only say that the best of them is 'The Soul's Errand,' and that its authorship is uncertain. It has, with very little evidence in any of the cases, been ascribed to Sir Walter Raleigh, to Francis Davison, (author of a compilation entitled 'A Poetical Rhapsody,' published in 1593, and where 'The Soul's Errand' first appeared,) and to Joshua Sylvester, who prints it in his volume of verses, with vile interpolations of his own. Its outspoken energy and pithy language render it worthy of any of our poets.

1 'Seely:' simple.

HARPALUS' COMPLAINT OF PHILLIDA'S LOVE BESTOWED

ON

CORIN, WHO LOVED HER NOT, AND DENIED HIM THAT LOVED HER.

1 Phillida was a fair maid,

As fresh as any flower;

Whom Harpalus the herdman pray'd

To be his

paramour.

2 Harpalus, and eke Corin,

Were herdmen both yfere:1
And Phillida would twist and spin,
And thereto sing full clear.

3 But Phillida was all too coy
For Harpalus to win;
For Corin was her only joy,
Who forced2 her not a pin.

4 How often would she flowers twine,
How often garlands make
Of cowslips and of columbine,
And all for Corin's sake!

5 But Corin he had hawks to lure,
And forced more the field:
Of lovers' law he took no cure;
For once he was beguiled.

6 Harpalus prevailed nought,

His labour all was lost;

For he was furthest from her thought,
And yet he loved her most.

7 Therefore was he both pale and lean,
And dry as clod of clay:

His flesh it was consumed clean;
His colour gone away.

8 His beard it not long be shave;
His hair hung all unkempt:
A man most fit even for the grave,
Whom spiteful love had shent.1

9 His eyes were red, and all forwacht; 2
His face besprent with tears:

It seem'd unhap had him long hatcht,
In midst of his despairs.

10 His clothes were black, and also bare;
As one forlorn was he;
Upon his head always he ware
A wreath of willow tree.

11 His beasts he kept upon the hill,
And he sat in the dale;

And thus with sighs and sorrows shrill
He 'gan to tell his tale.

12 'O Harpalus!' thus would he say;
'Unhappiest under sun!

The cause of thine unhappy day
By love was first begun.

13 For thou went'st first by suit to seek
A tiger to make tame,

VOL. I.

That sets not by thy love a leek,
But makes thy grief a game.

1 'Shent:' spoiled.-2 Forwacht:' from much watching.

I

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