OLD POETS.

GOOD DEEDS.

  Wretched is he who thinks of doing ill. 
    His evil deeds long to conceal and hide;
  For though the voice and tongues of men be still,
    By fowls and beasts his sins shall be descried. 
  And God oft worketh by his secret will,
    That sin itself, the sinner so doth guide,
  That of its own accord without request,
    He makes his wicked doings manifest.

SIR J. HARRINGTON.

* * * * *

DEATH.

  Death is a port whereby we reach to joy,
    Life is a lake that drowneth all in pain,
  Death is so near it ceaseth all annoy,
    Life is so leav’d that all it yields is vain;
  And as by life to bondage Man was brought,
  Even so likewise by death was freedom wrought.

EARL OF SURREY.

* * * * *

BEAUTY.

  Nought under Heaven so strongly doth allure
    The sense of man and all his mind possess,
  As Beauty’s lovely bait that doth procure
    Great warriors oft their rigour to repress,
  And mighty hands forget their manliness. 
    Driven with the power of an heart robbing eye,
  And wrapt in flowers of a golden tress,
    That can with melting pleasance mollify
    Their hard’ned hearts enur’d to blood and cruelty.

SPENSER.

* * * * *

LEARNING.

——­But that Learning in despite of fate Will mount aloft and enter Heaven’s gate; And to the seat of Jove itself advance, Hermes had slept in Hell with Ignorance.  Yet as a punishment they added this, That he and Poverty should always kiss.  And to this day is every scholar poor, Gross gold from them runs headlong to the boor.

C. MARLOWE.

* * * * *

FEELING.

  ——­The feeling power which is life’s root,
    Through every living part itself doth shed,
  By sinews which extend from head to foot,
    And like a net all over the body spread. 
  Much like a subtle spider, which doth sit
    In middle of her web which spreadeth wide,
  If aught do touch the outmost thread of it,
    She feels it instantly on every side.

J. DAVIES.

* * * * *

INJUSTICE.

  So foul a thing, O thou injustice art,
    That torment’st the doer and distrest;
  For when a man hath done a wicked part,
    O how he strives to excuse—­to make the best;
  To shift the fault t’ unburden his charg’d heart,
    And glad to find the least surmise of rest;
  And if he could make his, seem other’s sin,
  O what repose, what ease he’d find therein.

DANIELL.

* * * * *

RICHES.

  Vessels of brass oft handled brightly shine. 
  What difference between the richest mine
  And basest earth, but use? for both not used
  Are of little worth; then treasure is abused,
  When misers keep it; being put to loan,
  In time it will return us two for one.