charm. On most of the songs and lyrics brought together in this garland of verse age has had no hurtful influence. We forget that more than two centuries and a half have passed away since "rare Ben's" words, "So nimble and so full of subtle flame," were listened to at the Mermaid Tavern ; since Herrick, with an ear attuned to mirth, became the poet-laureate of Devonshire; since Fletcher and Lovelace, Suckling and Wither showed their mastery of the lyric; and if age has left its mark upon Herbert, Crashaw, and Vaughan, in whom the special weakness of the time is largely developed, it has but slightly lessened their vitality. The quaintness of these poets is forgiven by their admirers, and the higher note which they struck has ever since been of service in invigorating the religious life of their countrymen. The period of Elizabethan poetry includes Milton within its liberal range. In his greatness he stood apart, but he belongs by birthright to the romantic poets, and was out of sympathy with the classical school heralded by Waller, and ruled with a giant's strength by the brilliant genius of Dryden. The eighteenth century was moved by new influences, and won its special triumphs in a fresh field. The "fine madness" that should possess a poet's brain was exchanged for the wit, lucidity, and common sense so dear to the followers of Pope. The voice of song was mute, and the exulting notes of the earlier singers, the child-like mirthfulness, the passionate expression, the careless ease and lavish wealth of fancy, the faults as well as merits, which mark their verse with a family likeness, were regarded with something like contempt by their more correct successors. It seems fitting that in a selection of lyrics like the present, a selection made for the general reader rather than for the student, art and song should go hand in hand. The design of the volume is not so much to instruct as to delight, not to bring out what is new, but to give fresh life to what is old, and Mr. Anning Bell has done this by adding to the words of the poet the imagination of the artist. ENGLISH LYRICS HARK, HARK! THE LARK W. SHAKESPEARE 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; And winking Mary-buds begin |