NICHOLAS BRETON.

(15457-1626?.)

The "Lullaby" is found in the Arbor of Amorous Devises, 1594; "I Would Thou Wert Not Fair" from the Strange Fortunes of Two Excellent Princes, 1600; "Lovely Kind and Kindly Loving" from Melancholic Humours, 1600; and "What is Love?" from the Longing of a Blessed Heart, 1601. Breton's Works, edited by Dr. Grosart, are in the Chertsey Worthies' Library. "Chosen Poems of Nicholas Breton" are appended to Bullen's Lyrics from Elizabethan Romances.

A SWEET LULLABY.

COME little babe, come silly soul,

Thy father's shame, thy mother's grief,
Born as I doubt to all our dole,
And to thyself unhappy chief:

Sing lullaby and lap it warm,

Poor soul that thinks no creature harm.

Thou little think'st and less dost know
The cause of this thy mother's moan;
Thou want'st the wit to wail her woe,
And I myself am all alone;

Why dost thou weep, why dost thou wail,
And know'st not yet what thou dost ail?

Come little wretch, ah silly heart,
Mine only joy; what can I more?
If there be any wrong, thy smart,
That may the destinies implore;

"T was I, I say, against my will;
I wail the time, but be thou still.

And dost thou smile? O, thy sweet face!
Would God himself he might thee see!

No doubt thou soon would'st purchase grace,

I

I know right well, for thee and me.
But come to mother, babe, and play;
For father false is fled away.

Sweet boy, if it by fortune chance
Thy father home again to send,
If death do strike me with his lance,
Yet may'st thou me to him commend;
If any ask thy mother's name,

Tell how by love she purchased blame.

Then will his gentle heart soon yield;
I know him of a noble mind;
Although a lion in the field,

A lamb in town thou shalt him find;
Ask blessing, babe! be not afraid;
His sugared words have me betrayed.
Then may'st thou joy and be right glad,
Although in woe I seem to moan;
Thy father is no rascal lad,
A noble youth of blood and bone;

His glancing looks, if once he smile
Right honest women may beguile.
Come, little boy, and rock asleep;
Sing lullaby and be thou still;
I that can do nought else but weep,
Will sit by thee and wail my fill:

God bless my babe, and lullaby
From this thy father's quality!

I WOULD THOU WERT NOT FAIR.

WOULD thou wert not fair, or I were wise

I would thou hadst no face, or I no eyes;

I would thou wert not wise, or I not fond;
Or thou not free, or I not so in bond.

But thou art fair, and I cannot be wise:

Thy sunlike face hath blinded both mine eyes; Thou canst not be but wise, nor I but fond; Nor thou but free, nor I but still in bond.

Yet am I wise to think that thou art fair;
Mine eyes their pureness in thy face repair;
Nor am I fond, that do thy wisdom see;
Nor yet in bond, because that thou art free.

Then in thy beauty only make me wise,
And in thy face the Graces guide thine eyes;
And in thy wisdom only see me fond;
And in thy freedom keep me still in bond.

So shalt thou still be fair and I be wise;
Thy face shine still upon my cleared eyes;
Thy wisdom only see how I am fond;
Thy freedom only keep me still in bond.

So would I thou wert fair and I were wise;
So would thou hadst thy face and I mine eyes;
So would I thou wert wise, and I were fond;
And thou wert free, and I were still in bond.

LOVELY KIND, AND KINDLY LOVING.

LOVELY kind, and kindly loving,

Such a mind were worth the moving:

Truly fair, and fairly true,

Where are all these, but in you?

Wisely kind, and kindly wise;

Blessed life, where such love lies!
Wise, and kind, and fair, and true,—
Lovely live all these in you.

Sweetly dear, and dearly sweet;
Blessed where these blessings meet!
Sweet, fair, wise, kind, blessed, true,-
Blessed be all these in you!

IT

WHAT IS LOVE?

T is too clear a brightness for man's eye;
Too high a wisdom for his wits to find;
Too deep a secret for his sense to try;
And all too heavenly for his earthly mind;
It is a grace of such a glorious kind

As gives the soul a secret power to know it,
But gives no heart nor spirit power to show it.

It is of heaven and earth the highest beauty,
The powerful hand of heaven's and earth's creation,
The due commander of all spirits' duty,

The Deity of angels' adoration,

The glorious substance of the soul's salvation:
The light of truth that all perfection trieth,
And life that gives the life that never dieth.

It is the height of good and hate of ill,
Triumph of truth, and falsehood's overthrow;
The only worker of the highest will;

And only knowledge that doth knowledge know;
The only ground where it doth only grow:

It is in sum the substance of all bliss,
Without whose blessing all thing nothing is.

ANONYMOUS LYRICS.

(1588-1603.)

The writing of lyrics was an art to almost everyone's hand in the days of Elizabeth. Songs sung themselves; the music of words as well as of tones was in the air. The authorship of hundreds of these songs consequently is now unknown,-they came easily, and were easily forgotten.

THE QUIET LIFE.

From William Byrd's Psalms, Sonnets, and Songs, 1588.

WHAT pleasure have great princes

More dainty to their choice

Than herdsmen wild, who careless
In quiet life rejoice,

And fortune's fate not fearing,
Sing sweet in summer morning?

Their dealings plain and rightful,
Are void of all deceit;

They never know how spiteful
It is to kneel and wait

On favourite presumptuous

Whose pride is vain and sumptuous.

All day their flocks each tendeth;
At night, they take their rest;
More quiet than who sendeth
His ship into the East,

Where gold and pearl are plenty;
But getting, very dainty.

For lawyers and their pleading,
They 'steem it not a straw;
They think that honest meaning
Is of itself a law:

Whence conscience judgeth plainly,

They spend no money vainly.