For seldom is it seen he woundeth hearts alike;

The one may rage, when t'other's love is often far to seek.

All this I see, with more; and wonder thinketh me How he can strike the one so sore, and leave the other free.

I see that wounded wight that suffereth all this wrong, How he is fed with yeas and nays, and liveth all too long.

In silence though I keep such secrets to myself,

Yet do I see how she sometime doth yield a look by stealth,

As though it seemed; 'I wis, I will not lose thee so:' When in her heart so sweet a thought did never truly

grow.

Then say I thus: Alas! that man is far from bliss,
That doth receive for his relief none other gain but this.'
And she that feeds him so, I feel and find it plain,
Is but to glory in her power, that over such can reign.
Nor are such graces spent, but when she thinks that he,
A wearied man, is fully bent such fancies to let flee.
Then to retain him still, she wrasteth1 new her grace,
And smileth, lo! as though she would forthwith the
man embrace.

But when the proof is made, to try such looks withal, He findeth then the place all void, and freighted full of gall.

untouched by love, observing the conduct of women to their lovers. The piece is evidently of general, and not of individual, application, and the character assumed by the poet is absolutely indispensable to the design. Dr. Nott, however, resolved to make it bear upon his imaginary romance, dismisses the original title, and substitutes the following:-" He describes the duplicity and disingenuous conduct of his mistress, and laments that at her tender years she should have given such mournful proofs of insincerity!" And not satisfied with giving this direction to the poem at the outset, he adds in a note that we learn from the concluding lines, that Geraldine, though still very young," had made more than a common proficiency in those arts of dissimulation, by which the female character is sometimes degraded, and the fairest hopes of man's happiness are, alas! too frequently destroyed!"

1 Wrested to another form or purpose.

Lord! what abuse is this; who can such women praise, That for their glory do devise to use such crafty ways? I, that among the rest do sit and mark the row,

Find that in her is greater craft, than is in twenty mo', Whose tender years, alas! with wiles so well are sped: What will she do when hoary hairs are powdered in her head?

AN ANSWER IN THE BEHALF OF A WOMAN.1

GIR

IRT in my guiltless gown, as I sit here and sow,
I see that things are not in deed, as to the outward
show.

And who so list to look and note things somewhat near, Shall find where plainness seems to haunt, nothing but craft appear.

For with indifferent eyes, myself can well discern How some to guide a ship in storms stick not to take the stern;

Whose skill and courage tried in calm to steer a barge, They would soon shew, you should foresee, it were too great a charge.

And some I see again sit still and say but small, That can do ten times more than they that say they can do all.

1 This poem was not written by Surrey. The evidence, external and internal, is conclusive on that point. In Tottel's Miscellany, where it was originally published, (wanting the last eighteen lines, supplied by Dr. Nott from the Harrington MS.) it appeared amongst the pieces by uncertain' authors, under the title of a 'Dissembling Lover;' and was afterwards transplanted into its present place, amongst Surrey's poems, as an answer to the preceding lines, against the allegations of which it sets up a detailed defence. Whoever it was written by, Dr. Nott regards it as a bitter insult' to Surrey, and although he says in his notes, that there is no reason to suppose that it was written by the fair Geraldine herself,' he directly ascribes it to her, notwithstanding, in the new title he has invented for it. fair Geraldine retorts on Surrey the charge of artifice, and commends the person whom he considered to be his rival, as superior to him in courage and ability.'

'The

Whose goodly gifts are such, the more they understand, The more they seek to learn and know, and take less charge in hand.

And to declare more plain, the time flits not so fast, But I can bear right well in mind the song now sung, and past;

The author whereof came, wrapt in a crafty cloak,

In will to force a flaming fire where he could raise no smoke.

If power and will had met, as it appeareth plain,

The truth nor right had ta'en no place; their virtues had been vain.

So that you may perceive, and I may safely see,

The innocent that guiltless is, condemned should have be. Much like untruth to this the story doth declare, Where the Elders laid to Susan's charge meet matter to compare.

They did her both accuse, and eke condemn her too, And yet no reason, right, nor truth, did lead them so to do! And she thus judged to die, toward her death went forth, Fraughted with faith, a patient pace, taking her wrong in worth.

But He that doth defend all those that in him trust, Did raise a child for her defence to shield her from the unjust.

And Daniel chosen was then of this wrong to weet, How, in what place, and eke with whom she did this

crime commit.

[sight, He caused the Elders part the one from the other's And did examine one by one, and charged them both say right.

'Under a mulberry tree it was ;' first said the one. The next named a pomegranate tree, whereby the truth was known.

Then Susan was discharged, and they condemned to die, As right required, and they deserved, that framed so foul a lie.

And He that her preserved, and lett them of their lust, Hath me defended hitherto, and will do still I trust.

THE CONSTANT LOVER LAMENTETH.

SINCE fortune's wrath envieth the wealth
Wherein I reigned, by the sight

Of that, that fed mine eyes by stealth
With sour, sweet, dread, and delight;
Let not my grief move you to moan,
For I will weep and wail alone.
Spite drave me into Boreas' reign,
Where hoary frosts the fruits do bite,
When hills were spread, and every plain
With stormy winter's mantle white;
And yet, my dear, such was my heat,
When others froze, then did I sweat.

And now, though on the sun I drive,
Whose fervent flame all things decays;
His beams in brightness may not strive
With light of your sweet golden rays;
Nor from my breast his heat remove
The frozen thoughts, graven by Love.

Ne
may the waves of the salt flood
Quench that your beauty set on fire;
For though mine eyes forbear the food,
That did relieve the hot desire;

Such as I was, such will I be;

Your own; what would ye more of me?

A SONG WRITTEN BY THE EARL OF SURREY, OF A LADY THAT REFUSED TO DANCE WITH HIM.1

EACH beast can choose his fere according to his mind,

And eke can show a friendly chere, like to their beastly kind.

1 Dr. Nott, displacing the original title of this piece, substitutes the following: Surrey renounces all affection for the fair Geraldine;' and observes in a note, that the poem is valuable from the circum

A lion' saw I late, as white as any snow,

Which seemed well to lead the race, his port the same did show.

Upon the gentle beast to gaze it pleased me,

2

For still me thought he seemed well of noble blood to be.
And as he pranced before, still seeking for a make,
As who would say, 'There is none here, I trow, will
me forsake.'

stance of its preserving an account of a quarrel between Surrey and the fair Geraldine, which, as we hear nothing of any reconciliation afterwards, was the occasion probably of his renouncing his ill-fated passion.' The whole of this is not only an assumption, unwarranted by evidence or authority of any kind, but an assumption irreconcilable with itself. In the title, Surrey absolutely renounces Geraldine, and in the note the quarrel' is assigned as the probable cause; but it must have been the actual cause, if the inference drawn from the poem is to have any force at all. Dr. Nott, indeed, clears up all doubts on the subject in his Memoir of Surrey, where he undertakes to trace the whole course of this passion out of the hints he extorts from the poems. 'Geraldine's cruelty,' he tells us, became at last so excessive, that Surrey was compelled to resent it. She affronted him publicly at a ball, given, it might seem, by himself, in compliment to her. A quarrel ensued, and Surrey expressed his determination to break his chains.' It is superfluous to say that this circumstantial statement is entirely gratuitous. There is no ground whatever for supposing that Geraldine was the lady who refused to dance with Surrey; on the contrary, there is much reason for believing that she was not. Had Geraldine treated him in this way, the poem would assuredly have furnished clearer indications of an avowed devotion so rudely and strangely reproved. But it contains no such expression of a lover's resentment; the feelings to which it gives vent are those of wounded pride taking a haughty and somewhat angry revenge on a disdainful beauty.

When Dr. Nott observes, that we hear nothing of any reconciliation afterwards,' it should not be forgotten that he has himself led up to this conclusion, by transposing the original order of the poems to support it. The poem that follows next in all other editions describes the pains and joys, and comforting hope of the faithful lover;' and as a declaration of fidelity would have an awkward effect coming immediately after a piece, in the title of which Surrey is made to renounce his mistress, Dr. Nott has removed it from its proper situation, and placed it amongst the early poems supposed to have been addressed to Geraldine.

1 Surrey designates himself by the lion, one of the badges of his house. 2 The word pranced may possibly refer to the position of the armorial lion' rampant;' a more probable interpretation than that it was intended as an allusion to the action of a gentleman asking a lady to dance.