Stands and lies by me, does what I have done;

This too familiar care does make me rue it: No means I find to rid him from my breast, Till by the end of things it be supprest.

3.

Some gentler passions slide into my mind,
For I am soft, and made of melting snow;
Or be more cruel, Love, and so be kind,

Let me or float or sink, be high or low:
Or let me live with some more sweet content,
Or die, and so forget what love e'er meant.

66

Signed, Finis, Eliza. Regina, upon

Moun.....'s departure," Ashmol.

Mus. MSS. 6969 (781), p. 142.

Epitaph, made by the Queen's Majesty, at the Death of the Princess of ESPINOYE.

[From Soothern's Diana.]

WHEN the warriour Phoebus go'th to make his round,

With a painful course, to t'other hemisphere,
A dark shadow, a great horror, and a fear,
In I know not what clouds environ the ground.

And even so for Pinoy, that fair virtuous lady, (Although Jupiter have in this horizon

Made a star of her, by the Ariadnan crown,) Mourns, dolour, and grief, accompany our body. O Atropos! thou hast done a work perverst! And as a bird, that hath lost both young and nest About the place where it was, makes many a turn; Even so doth Cupid, that infant god of amore, Fly about the tomb where she lies all in dolore, Weeping for her eyes, wherein he made sojourn.

The XIIIJ Psalme of DAVID, called Dixit insipiens; touched afore of my Lady ELIZABETH.

[Printed at the end of her translation of the Godly Medi

tation of the queen of Navarre. In this Psalm I have
retained the old orthography, which could not have
been altered without injury to the rhyme in two
places.]

FOOLES, that true fayth yet never hod,
Sayth, in their hartes, There is no God!
Fylthy they are in their practyse,
Of them not one is godly wyse.

From heaven the Lorde on man ded loke,
To knowe what wayes he undertoke:
All they were vayne, and went a straye,
Not one he founde in the ryght waye;

In harte and tunge have they deceyte,
Their lyppes throwe fourth a poysened beyte;
Their myndes are mad, their mouthes are wode,
And swyft they be in shedynge blode.

So blynde they are, no truth they knowe,
No feare of God in them wyll growe.

How can that cruell sort be good,

Of God's dere folcke whych sucke the blood?
On hym ryghtly shall they not call,
Dyspayre wyll so their hartes appall.
At all tymes God is with the just,
Bycause they put in hym their trust:
Who shall therefor from Syon geve

That helthe whych hangeth in our beleve;
Whan God shall take from hys the smart,
Than will Jacob rejoyce in hart.

Prayse to God.

ELIZABETH'S Answer to a Popish Priest, who pressed her to declare her Opinion concerning the Corporeal Presence.

CHRIST was the Word that spake it;

He took the bread, and brake it:
And what that Word did make it,

That I believe, and take it.

A Rebus on MR. NOEL.

THE word of denial, and letter of fifty,

Is that gentleman's name that will never be thrifty.

Characters of Four Knights of Nottinghamshire. Gervase the gentle, Stanhope the stout, Markham the lion, and Sutton the lout.

Lines written in defiance of Fortune. Never think you, Fortune can bear the sway, Where Virtue's force can cause her to obey.

An English Hexameter, composed in Imitation of SIR P. SIDNEY.

Persius, a crab-staff; bawdy Martial; Ovid, a fine wag.

Sir Walter Raleigh having written on a window,
Fain would I climb, yet fear I to fall;

Elizabeth wrote under it,

If thy heart fail thee, climb not at all.

ELIZABETH MELVILL,

Was daughter of Sir James Melvill of Halhill, and wife of Colvill of Culross. She wrote Ane Godlie Dreame, compylit in Scottish Meter, the first edition of which appeared at Edinburgh, 1603, 4to. In a volume of Various Poetry, in the British Museum, is an edition of her poem, printed at Aberdeen in 1644, "by E. Raban, Laird of letters:" Beloe, (Anecdotes of Lit.) speaking of this edition, observes, that "perhaps no printer or publisher, before or since, has assumed so strange and singular a title as Mr. Raban." I find in the same volume of V. P. an edition of The Cherrie and the Slae, printed in 1645, by the said Raban, who again styles himself "Laird of letters."

The following specimen of Ane Godlie Dreame is given from the first edition. In later editions the language has been Anglicised.

I LUIKIT down and saw ane pit most black, Most full of smock, and flaming fyre most fell; That vglie sicht maid mee to flie aback,

I feirit to heir so many shout and yell:

I him besocht that hee the treuth wald tell-
Is this, said I, the Papists' purging place,
Quhair they affirme that sillie saulles do dwell,
To purge thair sin, befoir they rest in peace?