Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes
Which, star-like, sparkle in their skies;
Nor be you proud that you can see
All hearts your captives, yours yet free.
Be you not proud of that rich hair

Which wantons with the love-sick air;
Whenas that ruby which you wear,
Sunk from the tip of your soft ear,
Will last to be a precious stone
When all your world of beauty's gone.

TO THE ROSE.

Go, happy rose; and, interwove
With other flowers, bind my love!
Tell her, too, she must not be
Longer flowing, longer free,
That so oft has fettered me.

Say, if she's fretful, I have bands
Of pearl and gold to bind her hands:
Tell her, if she struggle still,

I have myrtle rods at will
For to tame, though not to kill.
Take thou my blessing, thus, and go
And tell her this; but do not so,
Lest a handsome anger fly
Like a lightening from her eye,
And burn thee up, as well as I.

FROM NOBLE NUMBERS.

HIS LITANY TO THE HOLY SPIRIT.

In the hour of my distress,
When temptations me oppress,
And when I my sins confess,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When I lie within my bed,
Sick in heart and sick in head,
And with doubts discomforted,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me !

When the house doth sigh and weep
And the world is drowned in sleep,
Yet mine eyes the watch do keep,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the artless doctor sees
No one hope but of his fees,
And his skill runs on the lees,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When his potion and his pill
Has or none or little skill,
Meet for nothing but to kill,

Sweet Spirit, comfort me !

When the passing bell doth toll,
And the furies in a shoal
Come to fright a parting soul,

Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the tapers now burn blue,
And the comforters are few,
And that number more than true,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the priest his last hath prayed,
And I nod to what is said,

'Cause my speech is now decayed,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me !

When, God knows, I'm tossed about
Either with despair or doubt,
Yet, before the glass is out,

Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the Tempter me pursu'th
With the sins of all my youth,
And half damns me with untruth,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the judgment is revealed,
And that opened which was sealed,
When to Thee I have appealed,

Sweet Spirit, comfort me !

THE END.

Printed by R. & R. CLARK. Edinburgh.

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Eschylus.-THE EUMENIDES. The Greek Text, with Introduction, English Notes, and Verse Translation. By BERNARD DRAME, M.A., late Fellow of King's College, Cambridge. 8vo. 3s. 6d. Aristotle.

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