With eyes caft up into the mayden's tower',
And eafie fighes, fuch as men drawe in love:

The stately seates, the ladies bright of hewe,
The daunces shorte, long tales of great delight,
With wordes and lookes that tigers could but rewe2;
Where ech of us did pleade the others right.

The palme-play', where, difpoyled for the game',
With dazed yies, oft we by gleames of love,
Have mist the ball, and got fight of our dame,
To bayted her eyes which kept the leads above ".

The gravell grounde', with fleves tied on the helme,
On fomyng horfe, with fwordes and frendly hartes;
With cheare as though one should another whelme1,
Where we have fought and chased oft with dartes.-

The fecret groves, which ofte we made refounde
Of pleafaunt playnt, and of our ladies praise,

Swift's joke about the Maids of honour being lodged at Windfor in the round tower, in queen Anne's time, is too well known and too indelicate to be repeated here. But in the prefent inftance, Surrey fpeaks loofely and poetically in making the MAIDEN-TOWER, the true reading, the refidence of the women. The maidentower was common in other caftles, and means the principal tower, of the greatest ftrength and defence. MAIDEN is a corruption of the old French Magne, or Mayne, great. Thus Maidenhead (properly Maydenhithe) in Berkshire, fignifies the great port or wharf on the river Thames. So alfo, Mayden-Bradley in Wiltshire is the great Bradley. The old Roman camp near Dorchefter in Dorfetshire, a noble work, is calle Maiden caftle, the capital fortrefs in thofe parts. We have Maiden-down in Somerifethire with the fame fignification. A thoufand other inftances might be given.

Hearne, not attending to this etymology, abfurdly fuppofes, in one of his Prefaces, that a frong baftion in the old walls of the city of Oxford, called the MAIDENTOWER, was a prifon for confining the prostitutes of the town.

z Pity.

a At ball.

b Rendered unfit, or unable, to play. Dazzled eyes.

To tempt, to catch.

The ladies were ranged on the leads, or battlements, of the caftle to fee the play.

The ground, or area, was ftrown with gravel, where they were trained in chivalry.

At tournaments they fixed the fleeves of their miftreffes on fome part of their

armour.

Looks.
i Deftroy.

Recording

Recording ofte what grace* ech one had founde,
What hope of speede', what drede of long delayes.

The wilde foreft, the clothed holtes with grene,
With raynes avayled ", and swift ybreathed horse,
With crie of houndes, and merry blaftes betwene
Where we did chafe the fearful harte of force.

The wide vales" eke, that harbourd us ech night,
Wherewith, alas, reviveth in my brest
The sweete accorde! Such flepes as yet delight:
The pleasant dreames, the quiet bed of reft.

The secret thoughtes imparted with such truft;
The wanton talke, the divers change of play;
The frendship sworne, eche promise kept so just,
Wherewith we past the winter night away.

for lowering the bonnet, or pulling off the hat. The word occurs in Chaucer, TR. CRESS. iii. 627.

That such a raine from heaven gan a

VAILE.

And in the fourth book of his BOETHIUS,
"The light fire arifeth into height, and
"the hevie yerthes AVAILEN by their
"weightes." pag. 394. col. 2. edit. Urr.
From the French verb AVALER, which is
from their adverb AvAL, downward. See
alfo Hearne's GLOSS. ROB. BR. p. 524.
Drayton ufes this word, where perhaps it
is not properly understood. ECL. iv. p.
1404. edit. 1753.

With that, fhe gan to VALE her head,
Her cheeks were like the roses red,

But not a word she said, &c.
That is, fhe did not veil, or cover, but
valed, held down her head for fhame.

n

Probably the true reading is wales or walls. That is, lodgings, apartments, &c. These poems were very corruptly printed by Tottel

And

And with this thought the bloud forsakes the face;
The teares berayne my chekes of deadly hewe,
The whych as fone as fobbing fighes, alas,
Upfupped have, thus I my plaint renewe!

"O place of bliffe, renewer of my woes!
"Give me accompt, where is my noble fere,
"Whom in thy walles thou doft' ech night enclose,
To other leefe, but unto me moft dere !"

Eccho, alas, that doth my forrow rew',
Returnes therto a hollow founde of playnte.
Thus I alone, where all my fredom grewe,
In prison pine, with bondage and restrainte.
And with remembrance of the greater greefe
To banish th' leffe, I find my chief releefe'.

In the poet's fituation, nothing can be more natural and ftriking than the reflection with which he opens his complaint. There is also much beauty in the abruptnefs of his exordial exclamation. The fuperb palace, where he had paffed the most pleasing days of his youth with the son of a king, was now converted into a tedious and folitary prison! This unexpected viciffitude of fortune awakens a new and interesting train of thought. The comparison of his paft and prefent circumftances recals their juvenile sports and amufements; which were more to be regretted, as young Richmond was now dead. Having described some of these with great elegance, he recurs to his first idea by a beautiful apoftrophe. He appeals to the place of his confinement, once the fource of his highest pleasures: "O place of blifs, renewer of my woes! And where is now my noble. "friend, my companion is these delights, who was once your

1

"inhabitant! Echo alone either pities or answers my question, "and returns a plaintive hollow found!" He closes his complaint with an affecting and pathetic fentiment, much in the ftyle of Petrarch. "To banish the miferies of my present "distress, I am forced on the wretched expedient of remem"bering a greater!" This is the confolation of a warm fancy. It is the philofophy of poetry.

Some of the following ftanzas, on a lover who prefumed to compare his lady with the divine Geraldine, have almost the ease and gallantry of Waller. The leading compliment, which has been used by later writers, is in the spirit of an Italian fiction. It is very ingenious, and handled with a high degree of elegance.

Give place, ye Lovers, here before

That spent your bostes and bragges in vaine:
My Ladie's bewty paffeth more

The best of yours, I dare wel faine,

Than doth the funne the candle light,

Or brightest day the darkest night.

And therto hath a troth as just

As had Penelope the faire;

For what she fayth, ye may it trust,

As it by writing sealed were:
And vertues hath the many moe
Than I with pen have skill to showe.

I could reherfe, if that I would,
The whole effect of NATURE's plaint,
When she had loft the perfite mould,
The like to whom she could not paint.
With wringyng handes how fhe did cry!
And what the faid, I know it, I.

I knowe,

I knowe, she swore with ragyng minde,
Her kingdom only fet apart,

There was no loffe, by lawe of kinde,
That could have gone fo neare her hart:
And this was chefely all her paine

She could not make the like againe ‘.

The verfification of these stanzas is correct, the language polished, and the modulation musical. The following stanza, of another ode, will hardly be believed to have been produced in the reign of Henry the eighth.

Spite drave me into Boreas' raigne

Where hory froftes the frutes do bite;
When hilles were fpred and every plaine
With ftormy winter's mantle white ".

In an Elegy on the elder fir Thomas Wyat's death,, his character is delineated in the following nervous and manly quatraines.

A vifage, fterne and mylde; where both did growe,
Vice to contemne, in vertue to rejoyce;

Amid great stormes, whom grace affured so,
To live upright, and smile at fortune's choyce.-

A toung that ferv'd in forein realmes his king,
Whofe courteous talke to vertue did enflame
Eche noble hart; a worthy guide to bring
Our English youth by travail unto fame.

An eye, whofe judgement none affect could blind,
Friends to allure, and foes to reconcile :