Much like a subtle spider which doth sit, The Immortality of the Soul. Wedlock, indeed, hath oft compared been Contention betwixt a Wife, &c. 1 This song, often attributed to Shakespeare, is now confidently assigned to Barnfield; it is found in his collection of Poems in Divers Humours, published in 1598.-Ellis's Specimens, Vol. ii. p. 316. 2 Our souls sit close and silently within, And their own web from their own entrails spin; That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch. Dryden, Mariage à la Mode, Act ii. Sc. 1. The spider's touch, how exquisitely fine! 8 See Webster. Page 167. Pope, Epistle i. Line 217. SAMUEL DANIEL. 1562-1619. Unless above himself he can Erect himself, how poor a thing is man! To the Countess of Cumberland. Stanza 12. MICHAEL DRAYTON. 1563-1631. Had in him those brave translunary things, (Of Marlowe.) To Henry Reynolds, of Poets and Poesy. For that fine madness still he did retain, Ibid. BISHOP HALL. 1574-1656. Moderation is the silken string running through the pearl chain of all virtues. Christian Moderation. Introduc. Death borders upon our birth, and our cradle stands in the grave.1 Epistles. Dec. iii. Ep. 2. There is many a rich stone laid up in the bowels of the earth, many a fair pearl laid up in the bosom of the sea, that never was seen, nor never shall be." Contemplations. Book iv. The Veil of Moses. 1 And cradles rock us nearer to the tomb. Our birth is nothing but our death begun. Young, Night Thoughts, v. Line 718. 2 Full many a gem of purest ray serene Gray's Elegy, Stanza 14. Drink to me only with thine eyes, The Forest. To Celia. The Silent Woman. Act i. Sc. 1. Give me a look, give me a face, In small proportion we just beauties see, Ibid. Good Life, Long Life. Preserving the sweetness of proportion and express ing itself beyond expression. The Masque of Hymen. Whilst that for which all virtue now is sold, And almost every vice, almighty gold. Underneath this stone doth lie As much beauty as could die; 4 Epistle to Elizabeth. Epitaph on Elizabeth. 1 O rare Ben Jonson.- Epitaph by Sir John Young. 2 Ἐμοὶ δὲ μόνοις πρόπινε τοῖς ὄμμασιν. . Εἰ δὲ βούλει, τοῖς χείλεσι προσφέρουσα, πλήρου φιλημάτων τὸ ἔκπωμα, καὶ OUTWS 8ldov. Philostratus, Letter xxiv. 3 A translation from Bonnefonius. * Almighty dollar. - Irving, The Creole Village. Underneath this sable hearse Epitaph on the Countess of Pembroke.1 What gentle ghost, besprent with April dew, Hails me so solemnly to yonder yew? 2 Elegy on the Lady Jane Pawlet. Soul of the age! The applause! delight! the wonder of our stage! A little further, to make thee a room.3 To the Memory of Shakespeare. Small Latin, and less Greek. Ibid. He was not of an age, but for all time. Ibid. Sweet swan of Avon! Ibid. Marlowe's mighty line. Ibid. Ibid. For a good poet's made as well as born. 1 This epitaph is generally ascribed to Ben Jonson. It appears in the editions of his works; but in a MS. collection of Browne's poems preserved amongst the Lansdowne MS. No. 777, in the British Museum, it is ascribed to Browne, and awarded to him by Sir Egerton Brydges in his edition of Browne's poems. 2 What beckoning ghost along the moonlight shade Invites my steps and points to yonder glade? Pope, To the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady. 8 Renowned Spenser, lie a thought more nigh To learned Chaucer, and rare Beaumont lie A little nearer Spenser, to make room For Shakespeare in your threefold, fourfold tomb Basse, On Shakespeare. JONSON.-MASSINGER.-TOURNEUR. Get money; still get money, boy; No matter by what means.1 149 Every Man in his Humour. Act ii. Sc. 3. PHILIP MASSINGER. 1584-1640. Some undone widow sits upon mine arm, A New Way to pay Old Debts. Act v. Sc. 1. Death hath a thousand doors to let out life.2 A drunkard clasp his teeth, and not undo 'em, The Revenger's Tragedy. Act iii. Sc. 1. 1 Get place and wealth; if possible, with grace; If not, by any means get wealth and place. Pope, Horace, Book i. Ep. i. Line 103. 2 Death hath so many doors to let out life. Beaumont and Fletcher, Custom of the Courts, Act ii. Sc. 2. I know death hath ten thousand several doors For men to take their exits. John Webster, Duchess of Malfi, Act iv. Sc. 2. 3 See Appendix, p. 644. 4 Grim death, my son and foe. Milton, Paradise Lost, Book ii. Line 804. 5 Distilled damnation.- Robert Hall. Page 397. |