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I KNOW not if sir Thomas More may properly be considered as an English poet. He has, however, left a few obsolete poems, which although without any striking merit, yet, as productions of the restorer of literature in England, seem to claim some notice here. One of these is, A MERY JEST how a SERGEANT would learne to play the FREERE. Written by Maister Thomas More in hys youth". The story is too dull and too long to be told here. But I will cite two or three of the prefatory stanzas.

He that hath lafte the Hosier's crafte,

And falleth to making shone";
The smythe that shall to payntyng fall,

His thrift is well nigh done.
A blacke draper with whyte paper,

To goe to writyng scole,
An olde butler becum a cutler,

I wene shall prove a fole.
And an olde trot, that can, got wot,

Nothyng but kysse the cup,
With her phisick will kepe one sicke,

Till she have soused hym up.
A man of lawe that never sawe

The wayes to bye and sell,
Wenyng to ryse by marchaundyse,

I praye God spede hym well!
A marchaunt eke, that wyll goo seke
By all the meanes


To fall in sute tyll he dispute

Worses, Lond. 1557. in folio. Sign. Ci.

• shocs.

b left.

Pletyng the lawe for every strawe,

Shall prove a thrifty man,
With bated and strife, but by my life,
I cannot tell

you whan.
Whan an hatter wyll go smatter

In philosophy;
Or a pedlar waxe a medlar

In theology

In these lines, which are intended to illustrate, by familiar examples, the absurdity of a serjeant at law assuming the business of a friar, perhaps the reader perceives but little of that festivity, which is supposed to have marked the character and the conversation of sir Thomas More. The last two stanzas deserve to be transcribed, as they prove, that this tale was de signed to be sung to music by a minstrel, for the entertainment of company.

Now Masters all, here now I shall

Ende there as I began;
In any wyse, I would avyse,

And counsayle every man,
His own craft use, all newe refuse,

And lyghtly let them gone:
Play not the Frere, Now make good cheere,

And welcome everych one.

This piece is mentioned, among other popular story-books in 1575, by Laneham, in his ENTERTAINMENT AT KILLINGWORTH CASTLE in the reign of queen Elisabeth

In CERTAIN METERS, written also in his youth, as a prologue for his BOKE OF FORTUNE, and forming a poem of considerable length, are these stanzas, which are an attempt at personification and imagery. Fortune is represented sitting on a lofty throne, smiling on all mankind, who are gathered around her eagerly expecting a distribution of her favours.

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Then, as a bayte, she bryngeth forth her ware,
Silver and gold, riche perle and precious stone;
On whiche the mased people gase and stare,
And gape therefore, as dogges doe for the bone.
FORTUNE at them laugheth : and in her trone
Amyd her treasure and waveryng rychesse
Prowdly she hoveth as lady and empresse.
Fast by her syde doth wery Labour stand,
Pale Fere also, and Sorow all bewept;
Disdayn and Hatred, on that other hand,
Eke restles Watche fro slepe with travayle kept:
Before her standeth Daunger and Envy,

Flattery, Dysceyt, Mischiefe, and Tiranny." Another of sir Thomas More's juvenile poems is, A RUFUL LAMENTACION on the death of queen Elisabeth, wife of Henry the Seventh, and mother of Henry the Eighth, who died in childbed, in 1503. It is evidently formed on the tragical soliloquies, which compose Lydgate's paraphrase of Boccace's book DE CASIBUS VIRORUM ILLUSTRIUM, and which


birth to the Mirror For MAGISTRATES, the origin of our historic dramas. These stanzas are part of the queen's complaint at the approach of death.

Where are our castels now, where are our towers?
Goodly Rychemonde, sone art thou gone from me!
At Westmynster that costly worke of yours
Myne owne dere lorde, now shall I never see !
Almighty God vouchesafe to graunt that ye
For you and your children well may edify,
My palyce byldyd is, and lo now here I ly. -
Farewell my doughter, lady Margarete. !
God wotte, full oft it greved hath my mynde

That ye should go where we should seldome mete,
Ibid. Sign. C vi.


died. 8 the palace of Richmond.

i Married in 1503 to James the + King Henry the Seventh's chapel, Fourth, king of Scotland. begun in the year 1502. The year beVOL. III.


fore the

Now I am gone and have left you behynde.
O mortall folke, that we be very blynde !
That we last feere, full oft it is most nye:
From you depart I must, and lo now here I lye.
Farewell, madame, my lordes worthy mother!
Comfort your son, and be ye of good chere.

Take all a worth, for it will be no nother.
Farewell my doughter Katharine, late the fere
To prince Arthur myne owne chyld so dere!.
It booteth not for me to wepe or cry,
Pray for my soule, for lo now here I ly.
Adew lord Henry, my lovyng sonne adew",
Our lorde encrease your honour and estate.
Adew my doughter Mary, bright of hew",
God make you vertuous, wyse, and fortunate.
Adew swete hart, my litle doughter Kate',
Thou shalt, sweete babe, suche is thy desteny,

Thy mother never know, for lo now here I ly. In the fourth stanza, she reproaches the astrologers for their falsity in having predicted, that this should be the happiest and most fortunate year of her whole life. This, while it is a natural reflection in the speaker, is a proof of More's contempt of a futile and frivolous science, then so much in esteem. I have been prolix in my citation from this forgotten poem: but I am of opinion, that some of the stanzas have strokes of nature and pathos, and deserved to be rescued from total oblivion.

More, when a young man, contrived in an apartment of his father's house a goodly hangyng of fyne paynted clothe, exhibiting nine pageants, or allegoric representations, of the stages of man's life, together with the figures of Death, Fame, Time,

Margaret countess of Richmond. • The queen died within a few days i Catharine of Spain, wife of her son after she was delivered of this infant, the prince Arthur, now dead.

princess Catharine, who did not long Afterwards king Henry the Eighth. survive her mother's death. * Afterwards queen of France. Remar P WORKES, ut supr. ried to Charles Brandon,duke of Suffolk.

and Eternity. Under each picture he wrote a stanza. The first is under ChildHODE, expressed by a boy whipping a top.

I am called Childhod, in play is all my mynde,
To cast a coyte", a cockstele', and a ball;
A toppe can I set, and dryve in its kynde;
But would to God, these hatefull bookes all
Were in a fyre brent to pouder small !
Than myght I lede my lyfe alwayes in play,

Which lyfe God sende me to myne endyng day. Next was pictured MANHOD, a comely young man mounted on a fleet horse, with a hawk on his fist, and followed by two greyhounds, with this stanza affixed.

Manhod I am, therefore I me delyght
To hunt and hawke, to nourishe up and fede
The grayhounde to the course, the hawke to th' flyght,
And to bestryde a good and lusty stede :
These thynges become a very man in dede.
Yet thynketh this boy his pevishe game sweter,

But what, no force, his reason is no better,
The personification of Fame, like Rumour in the Chorus to
Shakespeare's HENRY THE FIFTH, is surrounded with tonguess.

Tapestry, with metrical legends illustrating the subject, was common in this age: and the public pageants in the streets were often exhibited with explanatory verses. I am of opinion, that the Com@DIOLÆ, or little interludes, which More is said to have written and acted in his father's house, were only these nine pageants.

Another juvenile exercise of More in the English stanza, is annexed to his prose translation of the LIFE of John Picus Mirandula, and entitled, TWELVE RULES OF JOHN Picus EARLE OF MIRANDULA, partely exciting, partely directing a man

a quoit.

* WORKEs, Sign. C. iji. * a stick for throwing at a cock. STELE + See supr. p. 214, note'. is handle, Sax.

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