Let coarse bold hands, from slimy nest, For thee thou need'st no such deceit, [From Donne's Works, 1635: it is in imitation of Marlowe's Shepherd's song. Isaak Walton, in his Angler, says, "I will speak you a copy of verses that were made by Dr. Donne, and made to shew the world that he could make soft and smooth verses when he thought smoothness worth his labour; and I love them better, because they allude to rivers, fish, and fishing." Walton reckons them among the "choice verses of other days."] Drink to me only with thine eyes, But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, It could not wither'd be: But thou thereon didst only breathe, And sent'st it back to me, Since when it grows and smells, I swear, ["Of this song," says Ritson, "Anacreon, had Anacreon written in English, need not have been ashamed." Richard Cumberland tells us that the thoughts are poached from an "obscure collection of love-letters, written by the sophist Philostratus." To those who are curious in Greek, we refer them to the Observer, No. lxxiv.; and Gifford's Ben Jonson, vol. 8, p. 267, where they will see the origin of this song explained in several pages, Jonson is certainly indebted for the idea to the old Greek, but who, save Jonson, could have rendered the thoughts so gracefully? Herrick wrote an address to "The Water Nymphs drinking at a fountain," much in the spirit of the first verse : Reach with your whiter hands to me Some crystal of the spring; And I about the cup shall see Fresh lilies flourishing: Or else, sweet nymphs, do you but this; And I shall see by that one kiss * Mr. Gifford reads " hope." THE SWEET NEGLECT. BEN JONSON. Still to be neat, still to be drest, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face, [This very fine song is found in the first act of the "Silent Woman.” It is in imitation of some Latin verses which the reader will find given in Mr. Gifford's edition of Jonson, vol. 3, p. 347. Flecknoe, the learned Editor tells us caught a gleam of sense from them: Give me the eyes, give me the face, To which no art can add a grace, Can ever make more fair, or less. Address to the Duchess of Richmond.] *Percy reads "that." D TO CELIA. BEN JONSON. Come, my Celia, let us prove, But the sweet thefts to reveal: To be taken, to be seen, These have crimes accounted been. [Sung in the Fox. Gifford calls it a "very elegant and happy imi tation of particular passages in Catullus."] WOMEN ARE BUT MEN'S SHADOWS. BEN JONSON. Follow a shadow, it still flies you, At morn and even shades are longest; WHAT JUST EXCUSE. BEN JONSON. What just excuse had aged Time, |