GASCOIGNE. FROM A VOYAGE INTO HOLLANDE. AT last the keele which might endure no more, Some other cried to cleare the shipboate free, H cast an elegance of dialogue," condemns his "smaller poems" as certainly too diffuse and full of conceit; while Mr. Warton is of opinion that he "has much exceeded all the poets of his age in smoothness and harmony of versification." His longest production is "the Fruites of Warre"—"written by peecemeal at sundrye tymes, as the Aucthour had vacaunt leysures from seruice." "The verse is roughe," he continues in his dedication to the Lord Greye of Wylton, "and a good reason, sithence it treateth of roughe matters." In this, and in his other extended poem, "the Steele Glas," the reader will find many noble thoughts, conveyed in an easy and graceful style; but they are, we think, by no means so rich in fancy as some of his minor compositions. The leading characteristic of his writing is sound good sense; he had studied human nature, had seen the evils of a sinful course in youth, had learned how much of wisdom there is in virtue, and gave to the world his observations and the results of his experience in the form of verse. His poems were first collected and published in 1587, as "The Pleasauntest Workes of George Gascoigne, Esquyre, newlye compyled into one volume, that is to saye: His Flowers, Hearbes, Weedes, the Fruites of Warre, the Comedie called Supposes, the Trajedie of Jocasta, the Steele-Glasse, the Complaint of Phylomene, the Story of Ferdinando Jeronimi, and the Pleasure of Kenelworth Castle." The volume bears the imprint of" Abel Jeffes, dwelling in the Fore Street, without Creepplegate, neere unto Grub-streete." During his life, however, in 1572, he had sent forth a work in Quarto,"A Hundreth Sundrie Flowres, bound up in one small Posie; gathered partly in fyne outlandish gardens; and partly out of our owne fruitefull orchardes in Englande." AT last the keele which might endure no more, Some other cried to cleare the shipboate free, H There did I see a wofull worke begonne, Which now (even now) doth make my hart to bleede. Straunge tale to tell, what hast some men shall make Some twixt the boate and shippe their bane do take, And eare the boate farre from our sight was gon, Lo how he strives in vain that strives with God! For there we lost the flowre of the band, THE ARRAIGNMENT OF A LOVER. AT Beautyes barre as I dyd stande, George (quod the Judge) holde up thy hande, Tell therefore howe thou wylte bee tryde: My Lorde (quod I) this Lady here, Quod Beautie, no, it fitteth not Then Crafte the cryer cal'd a quest, Jelous the Jayler bound mee fast, Downe fell I then upon my knee, And though this Judge doe make suche haste, To shead with shame my guiltlesse blood: Yet let your pittie first bee plaste, To save the man that meant you good, So shall you shewe your selfe a Queene, And I maye bee your servaunt seene. (Quod Beautie) well: bicause I guesse, Yea Madame (quod I) that I shall, Thus am I Beauties bounden thrall, At hir commaunde when shee doth call. |