[42] [Alluding to the device on the title of the volume.]
[43] [Two of the old copies read swifter.]
[44] [Some copies read S.D.]
[45] As the works of some of the poets here cited are become obscure, it may not be unacceptable to the reader to see a few specimens of their several abilities. Constable was esteemed the first sonneteer of his time, and the following sonnet, prefixed to King James I.'s "Poetical Exercises" was the most admired—
TO THE KING OF SCOTLAND.
"When others hooded with blind love do fly
Low on the ground with buzzard Cupid's wings,
A heavenly love from love of love thee brings,
And makes thy Muse to mount above the sky:
Young Muses be not wont to fly so high,
Age school'd by time such sober ditties sings,
But thy love flies from love of youthful things,
And so the wings of time doth overfly.
Thus thou disdain'st all worldly wings as slow,
Because thy Muse with angels' wings doth leave
Time's wings behind, and Cupid's wings below;
But take thou heed, lest Fame's wings thee deceive,
With all thy speed from fame thou canst not flee,—
But more thou flees, the more it follows thee."
[46] Lodge was a physician as well as a poet; he was the author of two plays, and eminent, in his day, for writing elegant odes, pastoral songs, sonnets, and madrigals. His "Euphues' Golden Legacy" was printed 4to, 1590, from which some suppose Shakespeare took his "As You Like It." Description of spring by Lodge—
"The earth late choak'd with showers,
Is now array'd in green,
Her bosom springs with flowers,
The air dissolves her teen;
The woods are deck'd with leaves,
And trees are clothed gay,
And Flora, crown'd with sheaves,
With oaken boughs doth play;
The birds upon the trees
Do sing with pleasant voices,
And chant, in their degrees,
Their loves and lucky choices."
[47] Watson was contemporary with, and imitator of, Sir Philip Sydney, with Daniel, Lodge, Constable, and others, in the pastoral strain of sonnets, &c. Watson thus describes a beautiful woman—
"Her yellow locks exceed the beaten gold,
Her sparkling eyes in heav'n a place deserve.
Her forehead high and fair, of comely mould;
Her words are music all, of silver sound.
Her wit so sharp, as like can scarce be found:
Each eyebrow hangs, like Iris in the skies,
Her eagle's nose is straight, of stately frame,
On either cheek a rose and lily lies,
Her breath is sweet perfume or holy flame;
Her lips more red than any coral stone,
Her neck more white than aged swans that moan:
Her breast transparent is, like crystal rock,
Her fingers long, fit for Apollo's lute,
Her slipper such, as Momus dare not mock;
Her virtues are so great as make me mute:
What other parts she hath I need not say,
Whose face alone is cause of my decay."