return, in 1618, the King, under pretence of carrying out the sentence which had been passed so many years before, and which had been virtually annulled, basely ordered him to be executed. It was afterwards well known that James was led to this cruel step in order to appease the Spanish Ambassador.

Raleigh was a man of great energy and extraordinary talent; he was distinguished not only by his military skill and courage, but also by his extensive acquaintance with the arts and sciences, which is evinced by the many learned works he wrote.]

IF all the world and love were young,

And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee, and be thy love.

Time drives the flocks from field to fold, When rivers rage and rocks grow cold; And Philomel becometh dumb,

The rest complain of cares to come.

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter reckoning yields;
A honey tongue-a heart of gall,
Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.

Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies,
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten,
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.

Thy belt of straw and ivy buds,

Thy coral clasps and amber studs ;
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee and be thy love.

But could youth last, and love still breed,
Had joys no date, nor age no need,
Then these delights my mind might move
To live with thee and be thy love.

Tell potentates, they live
Acting by others' action,
Not loved unless they give,
Not strong but by a faction:
If potentates reply,
Give potentates the lie.

Tell men of high condition
That manage the estate,
Their purpose is ambition,
Their practice only hate:
And if they once reply,
Then give them all the lie.

Tell them that brave it most,

They beg for more by spending, Who in their greatest cost, Seek nothing but commending: And if they make reply, Then give them all the lie.

Tell zeal it wants devotion,

Tell love it is but lust,
Tell time it is but motion,
Tell flesh it is but dust:
And wish them not reply,
For thou must give the lie.

Tell age it daily wasteth,

Tell honour how it alters,
Tell beauty how she blasteth,
Tell favour how it falters:
And as they shall reply,
Give every one the lie.

Tell wit how much it wrangles
In tickle points of niceness:
Tell wisdom she entangles

Herself in over-wiseness :

And when they do reply,
Straight give them both the lie.

Tell physic of her boldness,
Tell skill it is pretension,
Tell charity of coldness,

Tell law it is contention :
And as they do reply,

So give them still the lie.

Tell fortune of her blindness,
Tell nature of decay,
Tell friendship of unkindness,
Tell justice of delay:

And if they will reply,

Then give them all the lie.

Tell arts they have no soundness,
But vary by esteeming;

Tell schools they want profoundness,

And stand too much on seeming :

If arts and schools reply,

Give arts and schools the lie.

Tell faith it's fled the city;

Tell how the country erreth;
Tell, manhood shakes off pity;
Tell, virtue least preferreth :
And if they do reply,
Spare not to give the lie.

So when thou hast, as I

Commanded thee, done blabbing:

Although to give the lie

Deserves no less than stabbing;

Stab at thee he that will,

No stab the soul can kill.*

*There can be but very little doubt that this is Raleigh's, although some critics attribute it to Sylvester.

TIMES GO BY TURNS.

BY ROBERT SOUTHWELL.-1560-95.

[ROBERT SOUTHWELL was born at St. Faith's, in Norfolk, in 1560, and was educated in the English College at Douay, his family being Roman Catholic. He joined the Jesuits at Rome, and, on returning to England, became involved in the intrigues of their order. Consequently he was committed to the Tower, where he remained a prisoner for three years, at the end of which time he was tried, and executed at Tyburn, in 1595.

Southwell's poetry, which is only of the second order, is sad and contemplative; and, as Campbell remarks, it is impossible to read it “without lamenting that its author should have been either the instrument of bigotry, or the object of persecution."]

HE lopped tree in time may grow again,

THE

Most naked plants renew both fruit and flower; The sorriest wight may find release of pain,

The driest soil suck in some moistening shower:

Time goes by turns, and chances change by course,
From foul to fair, from better hap to worse.

The sea of Fortune doth not ever flow;

She draws her favours to the lowest ebb:
Her tides have equal times to come and go;

Her loom doth weave the fine and coarsest web.
No joy so great but runneth to an end,
No hap so hard but may in fine amend.

Not always fall of leaf, nor ever spring,
Not endless night, yet not eternal day:
The saddest birds a season find to sing,

The roughest storm a calm may soon allay.
Thus, with succeeding turns, God tempereth all,
That man may hope to rise, yet fear to fall.
A chance may win that by mischance was lost;
That net that holds no great, takes little fish;
In some things all, in all things none are cross'd;
Few all they need, but none have all they wish.
Unmingled joys here to no man befall;
Who least, hath some; who most, hath never all.