Here have I learn'd to make my greatest wrongs
Matter of mirth, and subjects but for songs;
Here can I smile to see myself neglected,
And how the mean man's suit is disrespected;
Whilst those, that are more rich and better friended,
Can have twice greater faults thrice sooner ended.
All this, yea more, I see and suffer too,
Yet live content 'midst discontents I do;
Which whilst I can, it is all one to me,
Whether in prison or abroad it be;

For should I still lie here distress'd and poor,
It shall not make me breathe a sigh the more;
Since to myself it is indifferent,

Where the small remnant of my days be spent.

But for thy sake, my country's, and my friends',
For whom, more than myself, God this life lends,
I would not, could I help it, be a scorn,
But (if I might) live free as I was born;
Or rather for my mistress' Virtue's sake,
Fair Virtue, of whom most account I make,
If I can chuse, I will not be debas'd
In this last action, lest she be disgrac'd;
For 'twas the love of her, that brought me to
What spleen nor envy could not make me do.
And if her servants be no more regarded,
If enemies of Vice be thus rewarded,

And I should also Virtue's wrongs conceal,
And if none liv'd to whom she dar'd appeal,
Will they, that do not yet her worth approve,
Be ever drawn to entertain her love,

When they shall see him plagu'd as an offender,
Who, for the love he bears her, doth commend her?
This may to others more offensive be

Than prejudicial any way to me;

For who will his endeavours ever bend

To follow her, whom there is none will friend?
Some I do hope there be, that nothing may
From love of truth and honesty dismay;
But who will (that shall see my evil fortune)
The remedy of time's abuse importune?

Who will again, when they have smother'd me,
Dare to oppose the face of villainy?

Whereas he must be fain to undertake

A combat with a second Lernean snake,
Whose ever-growing heads when as he crops,
Not only two springs for each one he lops,
But also he shall see in midst of dangers,
Those he thought friends turn foes, at least-wise
strangers?

More I could speak; but sure, if this do fail me, I never shall do aught that will avail me;

Nor care to speak again, unless it be

To him that knows how heart and tongue agree;

No, nor to live, when none dares undertake
To speak one word for honest Virtue's sake.
But let his will be done, that best knows, what
Will be my future good and what will not.
Hap' well or ill, my spotless meaning's fair;
And for thee, this shall ever be my prayer,
That thou may'st here enjoy a long-blest reign,
And dying, be in heaven re-crown'd again.

SO now, if thou hast deign'd my lines to hear,
There's nothing can befall me that I fear ;
For if thou hast compassion on my trouble,
The joy I shall receive will be made double ;
And if I fall, it may some glory be,
That none but Jove himself did ruin me.

Your Majesty's most loyal Subject,
and yet Prisoner in the Marshalsea,

GEORGE WITHER.

[SATIRE TO KING JAMES. The challenge which Bishop Hall put forth in his Virgidemiarum, Book I.,

"I first adventure with fool-hardy might
To tread the steps of perilous despight;
I first adventure, follow me who list,
And be the second English Satirist”—

may, with much truth and propriety, be said to have been accepted by Wither. The Bishop published his Satires in 1597 and 8-Wither, his Abuses Stript and Whipt, and Satire to the King, in 1613 and 14.-These Satires of Wither are not in general marked with the same classical precision, or abound with such imitations of Persius and Juvenal, as are to be found in the Satires of Bishop Hall. But in animation of stile and sentiment, in boldness of conception, and in delineation of character, Wither will not certainly suffer in comparison with the Bishop. As in the Satires of Hall, the thorns of severe invective are not unmixed with the flowers of pure poetry. Wither seldom fails to exemplify his meaning by just imagery, and natural and pointed allusion. From this Satire to the King many examples might be cited:

"Know, I am he that enter'd once the list,.
'Gainst all the world to play the Satirist :
"Twas I that made my measures, rough and rude,
Dance, arm'd with whips, amidst the multitude;
And unappalled with my charmed scrowls,
Teaz'd angry Monsters in their lurking-holes.
I've play'd with wasps and hornets without fears,
Till mad they grew, and swarm'd about my ears;
I've done it, and methinks 'tis such brave sport,
I may be stung, but ne'er be sorry for't."

And again:

"What I have done was not for thirst of gain,
Or out of hope preferments to attain;
Since to contemn them would more profit me,
Than all the glories in the world that be.
Yet they are helps to Virtue, used aright;

And when they wanting be, she wants her might :
For eagles' minds ne'er fit a raven's feather:
To dare, and to be able, suit together."

Wither does not indeed like Hall descend to criticise the minute follies and fashionable foibles of the day. The abuses of poetical composition which prevailed in the time of Hall; the dissolute sallies of such poets as Greene and Nash; the extravagant enchantments of Ariosto; the licentious fictions of Merlin, and the whining Ghosts of the Mirrour of Magistrates, works then in vogue, were pleasantly yet severely satirized by the humourous genius of Hall. But Wither confined himself to Vice in high places; to the fleering parasite;

he saw,

"good Virtue poor;

Desert, among the most, thrust out of door;
Honesty hated, courtesy banished,

Rich men excessive, poor men famished,

Coldness in zeal, in laws partiality,

Friendship but compliment and vain formality."

It was in bold attacks upon his superiors, in caustic remarks upon the lives and actions of the ruling powers of the times, that Wither delighted to point his satiric pen. I know not a finer specimen of bold satire and independency of spirit than is contained in the following lines, indited also at the moment that he was petitioning his Sovereign to be released from an imprisonment for the former licentiousness of his Satires:

"Do not I know, a great man's power and might,
In spite of innocence, can smother right,

Colour his villainies to get esteem,

And make the honest man the villain seem?

I know it, and the world doth know 'tis true;

Yet I protest, if such a man I knew,

That might my country prejudice, or thee,
Were he the greatest or the proudest he

That breathes this day (if so it might be found,
That any good to either might redound),

I unappalled dare in such a case

Rip up his foulest crimes before his face,
Though for my labour I were sure to drop
Into the mouth of ruin without hope."

If, as Mr. Dalrymple asserts in his Extracts from Wither's Juvenilia, "this spirited defence had so good an effect as to obtain his release," I know not which to admire most, the mag. nanimity of the King, or the lofty mind of the youthful poet. The 'versification also of this Satire is more than usually energetic and correct. EDITOR.]