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And as they shall reply,
Tell wit, how much it wrangles
In tickle points of nicenelle;
And if they do reply,
Tell arts, they have no soundneffe,
But vary by esteeming;
And fand too much on seeming:
If arts and schooles reply,
Tell faith, it's fled the citie;
Tell how the countrey erreth ;
And, if they doe reply,
So, when thou hast, as I
Commanded thee, done blabbing,
Yet stab at thee who will,
VERSES BY KING JAMES I.
In the first edition of this book were inserted, by way of Specimen of his majesty's poetic talents, fome Punning Verses made on the disputations at Sterling : but it having been suggested to the editor, that the king only gave the
quibbling commendations in profe, and that some obsequious court-rhymer put them into metre *; it was thought proper to exchange them for two SONNETS of K. James's own composition. James was a great verifier, and therefore out of the multitude of his poems, we have here selected two, which (to Shew our impartiality) are written in his best and his worst manner, The first would not dishonour any writer of that time; the second is a most complete example of the Bathos.
A SONNET ADDRESSED BY KING JAMES TO HIS
son Prince HENRY: From K. James's works in folio: Where is also printed another called his Majesty's own Sonnel; it would perhaps be 100 cruel to infer from thence that this was not his Majesty's own Sonnet.
GOP gives not kings the file of Gods in vaine
For on his throne his scepter do they swey :
If then ye would enjoy a happie reigne,
Observe the statutes of our beavenly king ;
And from his law make all your laws to spring;
Rewarde the just, be stedfaít, true and plaine ;
Repreile the proud, maintayning aye the right;
Wake always fo, as ever in his light,
* See a folio intitled “ The Muses welcome to King James,"
And fo ye shall in princely vertues shine,
A SONNET OCCASIONED BY THE BAD WEATHER
MARKET IN JANUARY 1616.
This is printed from Drummond of Hawthornden's works, folio: where also may be seen some verses of Lord Stirling's upon this Sonnet, which concludes with the finest Anticlimax I remember to bave seen.
LOW cruelly these catives do confpire?
What loathsome love breeds such a baleful band
And him, who wont to quench debate and ire
5 Among the Romans, when his ports were clos’dt?
But now his double face is still dispos’d,
The earth ore-covered with a sheet of fnow,
Curs'd be that love and mought I continue short,
fiic. may it.