The Farewell.

[The following poem has been given as written by SIR WALTER Ralegh, the night before his execution; but it had already appeared in " Davison's "Rhapsody," in 1608f; and is also to be found in a MS. collection of Poems in the British Museum, which has the date of 1596.]

Go, soul, the body's guest,
Upon a thankless errand;
Fear not to touch the best;

The truth shall be thy warrant.

f It is printed by." Davison" with many variations.

Go, since I needs must die,
And give them all the lie.

Go, tell the court it glows,
And shines like painted wood;
Go, tell the church it shews
What's good, but does no good.

Tell age it daily wasteth;

Tell honour how it alters;
Tell beauty how she blasteth;
Tell favour how it falters:
And as they shall reply,
Give every one the lie.

Tell wit how much it wrangles
In tickle points of niceness;
Tell wisdom she entangles
Herself in over-wiseness:
And when they do reply,
Straight give them both the lie.

Tell physic of her boldness;
Tell skill it is prevention;
Tell charity of coldness;
Tell law it is contention :
And as they do reply,
So give them still the lie.

Tell fortune of her blindness;
Tell nature of decay;
Tell friendship of unkindness;

Tell justice of delay:

And if they will reply,
Then give them all the lie.

Tell arts they have no soundness,
But vary by esteeming;

Tell schools they want profoundness,
And stand too much on seeming.

If arts and schools reply,
Give arts and schools the lie.

Tell faith it's fled the city;

Tell how the country erreth;
Tell manhood, shakes off pity;
Tell virtue, least preferred.
And if they do reply,
Spare not to give the lie.

So when thou hast, as I

Commanded thee, done blabbing;

Because to give the lie

Deserves no less than stabbing:

Stab at thee, he that will,
No stab thy soul can kill!

If court and church reply,

Give court and church the lie.

Tell potentates, they live

Acting, but O their actions!

Not lov'd, unless they give;
Nor strong, but by their factions.
If potentates reply,
Give potentates the lie.

Tell men of high condition,
That rule affairs of state,
Their purpose is ambition;
Their practice only hate.
And if they do reply,

Then give them all the lie.

Tell those that brave it most,

They beg for more by spending;

Who in their greatest cost

Seek nothing but commending.
And if they make reply,
Spare not to give the lie.

Tell zeal it lacks devotion;
Tell love it is but lust;
Tell time it is but motion;
Tell flesh it is but dust:
And wish them not reply,
For thou must give the lie.

Tell age it daily wasteth;

Tell honour how it alters; Tell beauty that it blasteth; Tell favour that she falters: And as they do reply, Give every one the lie.

Tell wit how much it wrangles

In fickle points of niceness; Tell wisdom she entangles Herself in over-wiseness: And if they do reply,

Then give them both the lie.

Tell physic of her boldness;
Tell skill it is pretension;

Tell charity of coldness;
Tell law it is contention:
And if they yield reply,
Then give them still the lie.

Tell fortune of her blindness;
Tell nature of decay;
Tell friendship of unkindness;

Tell justice of delay :

And if they do reply,

Then give them all the lie.

Tell arts they have no soundness,

But vary by esteeming;

Tell schools they lack profoundness,

And stand too much on seeming.

If arts and schools reply,
Give arts and schools the lie.

Tell faith it's fled the city;

Tell how the country erreth; Tell manhood, shakes off pity; Tell virtue, least preferreth. And if they do reply, Spare not to give the lie.

So, when thou hast, as I

Commanded thee, done blabbing;

Although to give the lie

Deserves no less than stabbing
Yet stab at thee who will,

No stab the soul can kill!

On the Snuff of a Candle.

The night before he died.

COWARDS fear to die; but courage stout,
Rather than live in snuff, will be put out.

Sir Walter Ralegh the night before his death.

[In some copies thus entitled; "Verses said to have been found in his Bible "in the Gate-house at Westminster;" archbishop Sancroft, who has transcribed the lines, calls them his "Epitaph made by himself, and given to one of his the night before his suffering."]

EVEN such is time, that takes on trust
Our youth, our joys, our all we have,
And pays us but with age and dust;
Who in the dark and silent grave,
When we have wandered all our ways,
Shuts up the story of our days!
But from this earth, this grave, this dust,

The Lord shall raise me up, I trust!