ALISON'S RECREATIONS.

THERE IS A GARDEN IN HER FACE.

THERE is a garden in her face,

Where roses and white lilies grow;
A heavenly paradise is that place,
Wherein all pleasant fruits do grow;
There cherries grow that none may buy,
Till cherry-ripe themselves do cry.

Those cherries fairly do inclose

Of orient pearl a double row,

Which when her lovely laughter shows,

They look like rose-buds fill'd with snow;
Yet them no peer nor prince may buy,
Till cherry-ripe themselves do cry.

Her

eyes like angels watch them still;
Her brows like bended bows do stand,
Threatening with piercing frowns to kill.
All that approach with eye or hand
These sacred cherries to come nigh,
Till cherry-ripe themselves do cry.

O HEAVY HEART.

O heavy heart, what harms are hid,
Thy help is hurt, thy hap is hard;
If thou shouldst break, as God forbid,
Then should desert want his reward:
Hope well to have, hate not sweet thought,
Foul cruel storms fair calms have brought;

19

After sharp showers the sun shines fair,
Hope comes likewise after despair.

In hope, a king doth go to war;
In hope, a lover lives full long;
In hope, a merchant sails full far;
In hope, just men do suffer wrong;
In hope, the ploughman sows his seed;
Thus hope helps thousands at their need:
Then faint not heart, among the rest,
Whatever chance, hope thou the best.

Though wit bids will blow the retreat,
Will cannot work as wit would wish;
When that the roach doth taste the bait,
Too late to warn the hungry fish;
When cities burn on fiery flame,
Great rivers scarce may quench the same;

If will and fancy be agreed,

Too late for wit to bid take heed.

But yet it seems a foolish drift,

To follow will and leave the wit;
The wanton horse that runs too swift,
May well be stay'd upon the bit;

But check a horse amid his race,
And out of doubt you mar his pace;

Though wit and reason doth men teach

Never to climb above their reach.

The two foregoing Pieces are from "An Houre's Recreation in Musicke, by RICH. ALISON."—1606.

GREEN'S ARCADIA.

SEPHESTIA'S SONG TO HER CHILD,

AFTER ESCAPING FROM SHIPWRECK.

121

MOTHER'S wag, pretty boy,
Father's sorrow, father's joy,
When thy father first did see
Such a boy by him and me,
He was glad, I was woe,
Fortune changed made him so;

When he had left his pretty boy,
Last his sorrow, first his joy.

Weep not my wanton, smile upon my knee;
When thou art old, there's grief enough for thee.

The wanton smiled, father wept,
Mother cried, baby leap'd;
More he crow'd, more he cried,
Nature could not sorrow hide,
He must go, he must kiss
Child and mother, baby bless;
For he left his pretty boy,

Father's sorrow, father's joy.

Weep not my wanton, smile upon my knee;

When thou art old, there's grief enough for thee.

The above beautiful stanzas are from the Arcadia of ROBERT GREEN. Lond. 1616. Green was born a gentleman, but compelled from necessity to support himself and his family by the efforts of his pen. His publications are from forty-five to fifty in number, from the sale of which he had managed to obtain a precarious livelihood. He died about the year 1592.

TO COLIN CLOUT.

BEAUTY sat bathing by a spring,
Where fairest shades did hide her,
The winds blew calm, the birds did sing,
The cool streams ran beside her;
My wanton thoughts enticed mine eye
To see what was forbidden;

But better memory said, fie,

So vain desire was chidden:

Hey nonnie, nonnie, &c.

Into a slumber then I fell,

When fond imagination

Seem'd to see, but could not tell
Her feature or her fashion;

But even as babes in dreams do smile,
And sometimes fall a-weeping;

So I awak'd as wise this while,
As when I fell a-sleeping:

Hey nonnie, nonnie, &c.

The above is Song 13th in "England's Helicon," 1600; Lond. 4to. p. 192. This scarce and valuable work contains 150 separate Songs and Poems, contributed by the different literary characters of the day, or selected from contemporary works of acknowledged merit.

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WHO PROSTRATE LIES AT WOMAN'S FEET.

WHO prostrate lies at woman's feet,

And calls them darlings dear and sweet,

BATESON AND HUNNIS' SONGS.

23

Protesting love, and craving grace,

And praising oft a foolish face,
Are oftentimes deceived at last;

They catch at naught, and hold it fast.

BATESON-1604.

WHEN FIRST MINE EYES.

WHEN first mine eyes did view and mark
Thy beauty fair for to behold;

And when my ears 'gan first to hark

The pleasant words that thou me told,
I would as then I had been as free
From ears to hear, and eyes to see.

And when in mind I did consent
To follow thus my fancy's will,
And when my heart did first relent

To wist such bait myself to spill,
I would my heart had been as thine,
Or else thy heart as soft as mine.

O flatterer false! thou traitor born,

What mischief more might thou devise,
Than thy dear friend to have in scorn,
And him to wound in sundry-wise,
Which still a friend pretends to be,
And art not so, by proof I see;

Fie, fie upon such treachery!

The above Lyric is by HUNNIS, one of the contributors to the "Paradise of Dainty Divices," in the time of Edward IV. and Mary; author of "A Hive of Honey," "A Hive of Honeysuckle," a translation of the Psalms, &c. Hunnis died in the year 1568.