And once he thought to take His father by the way ;* But that he feared his master had Unto his uncle then, He rode with might and main; One fortnight's space he stayed, Until it chanced so, His uncle with his cattle did Unto a market go. His kinsman rode with him, Where he did see right plain, Sudden, within a wood, He struck his uncle down, And beat his brains out of his head, So sore he cracked his crown. * It is thus not impossible that even parricide,—a crime which, amongst the Athenians, was held to be so incredible that no punishment was appointed for it, might have crowned the career of this unhappy debauchee. "Principiis obsta."-Hor. When the genial spirit of filial affection and reverence is extinguished, the prospect of all other virtues becomes dreary, and the hope clouded; and if that ennobling influence be not recovered, no limit can be fixed to the hardness and depravity of heart which may ensue. It is like one of the main buttresses of an ancient and beautiful edifice, of the first and best architecture when that is struck away, the fall of the whole structure, on its reckless disturbers, may be speedy and irretrievable. Or (to pursue a similar fancy), it is as one of the piers of a bridge, of more safe and certain construction than the Mahometan "Al Sirat," and which will lead to a better paradise.-ED. + For apprehending him, if he went to his father's.-Dr. PERCY. Then seizing fourscore pound, To London straight he hied, Tush! 't is no matter, George, Thus lived in filthy sort, Until their store was gone; When means to get them any more, I wis poor George had none. Therefore, in railing sort, She thrust him out of door; Which is the just reward of those Who paths like these explore. O, do me not disgrace! In this my need, quoth he.— She called him thief and murderer, With all the spite might be. To the constable she sent, To have him apprehended; And showed how far, in each degree, He had the laws offended. When Barnwell saw her drift, To sea he got straightway; Where fear and sting of conscience, Continually on him lay. Unto the Lord Mayor then, He did a letter write, In which his own and Sarah's fault He did at large recite. PERCY. Whereby she seized was, And then to Ludlow sent, Where she was judged, condemned, and hanged, There died this gallant quean, Was Barnwell hung in chains. Lo! here's the end of youth, * Poland :-The ship was probably bound to Dantzic. THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE. BY CHRISTOPHER MARLOW. * COME, live with me, and be my love, There will we sit upon the rocks, There will I make thee beds of roses, Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle. * This song has been sometimes printed as Shakspeare's; but there is now very little doubt that it is rightly attributed to Marlow. It is assigned to him by Walton (who lived very near to his time), in his "Complete Angler,” wherein it is inserted, and described as "old-fashioned poetry, but choicely good ;" and also an answer, by Sir Walter Raleigh; but this last is of inferior merit. A pleasing but extravagant poem was written in imitation of Marlow's, by Dr. Donne, who died in 1631. Christopher Marlow was a poet of very superior talents, but unhappily of unusually evil principles; and, in consequence, of very dissolute habits. This, however, the reader would hardly discover from his noble tragedy of "Faustus:" the conclusion of which, in particular, is very finely worked up. Marlow died, disgracefully, in 1593. A gown made of the finest wool, Which from our pretty lambs we 'll pull; A belt of straw, and ivy buds, With coral clasps, and amber studs :- The shepherd swains shall dance and sing PERCY. |