THE NOBLE NATURE.
It is not growing like a tree
In bulk, doth make man better be;
Or standing long an oak three hundred year,
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere;
A lily of a day
Is fairer far in May,
Although it fall and die that night—
It was the plant and flower of Light.
In small proportions we just beauty see;
And in short measures life may perfect be.
Ben Jonson.
WINSTANLEY.
Winstanley's deed, you kindly folk,
With it I fill my lay,
And a nobler man ne'er walked the world,
Let his name be what it may.
The good ship Snowdrop tarried long;
Up at the vane looked he;
"Belike," he said, for the wind had dropped,
"She lieth becalmed at sea."
The lovely ladies flocked within,
And still would each one say,
"Good mercer, be the ships come up?"—
But still he answered, "Nay."