This little beautiful sonnet is reprinted from a small volume of "Poems by Thomas Carew, Esq. one of the gentlemen of the privie-chamber, and sewer in ordinary to his majesty (Charles I.) Lond. 1640." This elegant and almost-forgotten writer, whose poems have been deservedly revived, died, in the prime of his age, in 1639.

In the original follows a third stanza; which, not being of general application, nor of equal merit, I have ventured to omit.

HEE, that loves a rosie cheeke,
Or a corall lip admires,

The subject of this ballad is sufficiently popular from the modern play which is founded upon it. This was written by George Lillo, a jeweller of London, and first acted about 1730.-As for the ballad, it was printed at least as early as the middle of the last century.

It is here given from three old printed copies, which exhibit a strange intermixture of Roman and black letter. It is also collated with another copy in the Ashmole Collection at Oxford, which is thus intitled, "An excellent ballad of George Barnwell, an apprentice of London, who..thrice robbed his

master and murdered his vncle in Ludlow." The tune is "The Merchant."

This tragical narrative seems to relate a real fact; but when it happened I have not been able to dis

cover.

THE FIRST PART.

ALL youth of fair England That dwell both far and near, Regard my story that I tell,

And to my song give ear.

How all which I could get,

I gave it, and did spend it all Upon thee every whit.

Quoth she, Thou art a knave,
To charge me in this sort,
Being a woman of credit fair,
And known of good report

Therefore I tell the flat,

Be packing with good speed I do defie thee from iny heart, And scorn thy filthy deed.

Is this the friendship, that
You did to me protest?
Is this the great affection, which
You so to me exprest?

Now fie on subtle shrews!
The best is, I may speed
To get a lodging any where
For money in my need.

These beautiful stanzas were written by George Wither, of whom some account was given in the former part of this Volume: see the Song intitled "The Shepherd's Resolution," Book II. Song XXI. In the first Edition of this work only a smail fragment of this Sonnet was inserted. It was afterwards rendered more complete and entire by the addition of five Stanzas more, extracted from Wither's pastoral poem, intitled, "The Mistress of Philarete,' of which this Song makes a part. It is now given still more correct and perfect by comparing it with another copy, printed by the author in his improved edition of "The Shepherd's Hunting," 1620, 8vo.

HENCE away, thou Syren, leave me,

Pish! unclaspe these wanton armes ;

Sugred words can ne'er deceive me,

(Though thou prove a thousand charmes).

Fie, fie, forbeare;

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