Their silks, perfumes, and glittering coaches.
But in the narrow way' to Thee

I observe only poverty,

And despised things; and all along
The ragged, mean, and humble throng
Are still on foot; and as they go
They sigh, and say their Lord went so!

Give me my staff then, as it stood
When green and growing in the wood.
(Those stones, which for the altar served
Might not be smoothed nor finely carved:)
With this poor stick, I'll pass the ford,
As Jacob did. And Thy dear word,
As Thou hast dressed it, not as wit
And depraved tastes have poisoned it,
Shall in the passage be my meat,
And none else will Thy servant eat.
Thus, thus, and in no other sort,
Will I set forth, though laughed at for 't;
And leaving the wise world their way,
Go through, though judged to go astray.

DEAR, from thine arms then let me fly,

That my fantastic mind may prove

The torments it deserves to try,

That tears my fixed heart from my love.

When wearied with a world of woe

To thy safe bosom I retire,

Where love, and peace, and truth, do flow,
May I contented there expire!

Lest, once more wandering from that heaven,
I fall on some base heart unblest,

Faithless to thee, false, unforgiven,
And lose my everlasting rest.

MY

TO HIS MISTRESS.

Y light thou art, without thy glorious sight My eyes are darkened with eternal night; My love, thou art my way, my life, my light.

Thou art my way, I wander if thou fly;
Thou art my light, if hid, how blind am I!
Thou art my life, if thou withdraw'st I die.

Thou art my life, if thou but turn away,
My life's a thousand deaths. Thou art my way;
Without thee, love, I travel not, but stray.

AL

LOVE AND LIFE.

LL my past life is mine no more,
The flying hours are gone;

Like transitory dreams given o'er,
Whose images are kept in store
By memory alone.

The time that is to come is not;
How can it then be mine?

The present moment 's all my lot;
And that, as fast as it is got,

Phillis, is only thine.

Then talk not of inconstancy,

False hearts, and broken vows;
If I, by miracle, can be

This live-long minute true to thee,
'Tis all that Heaven allows.

SIR CHARLES SEDLEY.

(1639-1701.)

TO CELIA.

Sedley's first publication, a comedy, appeared in 1668.

His works

were collected in 1702. There is no edition in this century. This song first appeared in A Collection of Poems by Several Hands, 1693.

NOT, Celia, that I juster am

Or better than the rest;

For I would change each hour, like them,

Were not my heart at rest.

But I am tied to very thee
By every thought I have;
Thy face I only care to see,
Thy heart I only crave.

All that in woman is adored
In thy dear self I find;

For the whole sex can but afford
The handsome and the kind

Why then should I seek further store,
And still make love anew?

When change itself can give no more,
'Tis easy to be true.

JOHN DRYDEN.

(1631-1700.)

The best edition of Dryden's Poetical Works is that of Mr. W. D. Christie (London, 1893), in which the "Songs, Odes, and Lyrical Pieces" occupy pages 367-384. Alexander's Feast was written in 1697, and the Song for St. Cecilia's Day just ten years earlier. The songs are from The Indian Emperor, 1665, from Edipus (by Dryden and Lee), 1679, and from King Arthur, 1691, respectively.

ALEXANDER'S FEAST; OR, THE POWER OF MUSIC.

A SONG IN HONOUR OF ST. CECILIA'S DAY, 1697.

'WAS at the royal feast for Persia won

'TWAS

By Philip's warlike son:

Aloft in awful state

The godlike hero sate

On his impartial throne;

His valiant peers were placed around;

Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound:
(So should desert in arms be crowned).

The lovely Thais, by his side,

Sate like a blooming Eastern bride,

In flower of youth and beauty's pride.

Happy, happy, happy pair!

None but the brave,

None but the brave,

None but the brave deserves the fair.

Chorus.

Happy, happy, happy pair!

None but the brave,

None but the brave,

None but the brave deserves the fair.

Timotheus, placed on high
Amid the tuneful quire,

With flying fingers touched the lyre:
The trembling notes ascend the sky,
And heavenly joys inspire.

The song began from Jove,
Who left his blissful seats above,
(Such is the power of mighty love).
A dragon's fiery form belied the god:
Sublime on radiant spires he rode,
When he to fair Olympia pressed;
And while he sought her snowy breast,
Then round her slender waist he curled,

And stamped an image of himself, a sovereign of the world. The listening crowd admire the lofty sound,

A present deity, they shout around;

A present deity, the vaulted roofs rebound:
With ravished ears

The monarch hears,
Assumes the god,

Affects to nod,

And seems to shake the spheres.

Chorus.

With ravished ears

The monarch hears,

Assumes the god,

Affects to nod,

And seems to shake the spheres.

The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung,
Of Bacchus ever fair, and ever young,
The jolly god in triumph comes;
Sound the trumpets, beat the drums;
Flushed with a purple grace

He shows his honest face: