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So that by use and practice may be known,
More than by art or skill can well be shown.

So then it shall be needlesse to declare
What sundry kinds there lie in secret store,
And where they do resort, and what they are,
That may be still discovered more and more;
Let him that list no pain nor trouble spare
To seek them out, as I have done before,

And then it shall not discontent his minde

How choice of place and change of game to finde.

This curious tract has been ascribed to the pen of the celebrated Dr. Donne. See Sir John Hawkins's edition of Walton's Complete Angler, 1775. p. 153, note. At the end of this volume is a sort of Appendix, having the signature of R. R. This Sir John supposes to mean R. Roe. It should seem, that scarce as it really is, there were two editions of this work.


THIS old English Poet is slightly mentioned by Ritson, in his Catalogue of English Poets, and somewhat more at length by Mr. Brydges, in his improved edition of Philips's Theatrum Poetarum. Mr. Ellis had probably not seen any of his perF 2 form

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formances, at least he has given no specimen of his works, yet he is spoken of as a writer, by no means inelegant, by Warton in his History of Poetry, vol. 111. p. 405.

I have seen in a very curious and valuable volume of Miscellaneous Poetry, belonging to Sion College Library, the performance of Richard Barnfield, alluded to by Warton; and for the benefit of collectors in this line, subjoin a description, with a specimen.


Kontaining the complaint of Daphnis for the Love of Ganymede.

Amor plus mellis quam fellis est.


Printed by John Danter, for T. G. and E. N. and are to bee sold in Saint Dunstones Church. Yeard, in Fleet Street. 1594."

The author appears to have had in view, for imitation, the second Eclogue of Virgil, but it must be confessed that much cannot be said in favour of his Poetry.

Remember age, and thou canst not be prowd,
For age puls downe the pride of euery man.
In youthfull yeares by nature tis allowde
To haue selfe-wil!, doo aurture what she can.


Nature and nurture once together met,
The soule and shape in decent order set.

Pride looks aloft, still staring on the starres,
Humility looks lowly on the ground,
Th' one menaceth the gods with civill warres,
The other toyles till he haue vertue found.

His thoughts are humble, not aspiring hye,
But Pride looks haughtily, with scornefull eye.

Humility is clad in modest weedes,
But Pride is braue and glorious to the show;
Humility his friends with kindness feedes,
But Pride his friendes (in neede) will neuer know.
Supplying not their wants, but them disdaining,
Whilst they to pitty never neede complayning.

Humillity in misery is relieu'd,

But Pride in neede, of no man is regarded;
Pitty and mercy weepe to see him grieu'd,
That in distresse had them so well rewarded;

But Pride is scornd, contemnd, disdaind, derided,
Whilst Humblenes of all things is prouided.

Oh then be humble, gentle, meeke, and milde,
So shalt thou be of euery mouth commended;
Be not disdainfull, cruell, proude, (sweet childe,)
So shalt thou be of no man much condemned.

Care not for them that vertue doo despise,
Vertue is loathde of fooles, loude of the wise.


From the same curious volume, belonging to Sion College, I am enabled to give an account of the following very rare tract:

"AN OULD FACIONED LOVE, or a Love of the Ould Facion. By T. T. Gent.

At London. Printed by P. S. for William Mattes, dwelling in fleetstrete, at the signe of the Hand and Plough. 1594."

This Poem is inscribed to the Author's "Worshipfull and singular good friend Mistres Ann Robertes."

The Poem commences thus:

Countries delight, sweet Phillis, beuties pride,
Vouchsafe to read the lines Amyntas writeth,
And hauing red, within your boosome hide
What first of love my fearfull muse inditeth.

When once my mother set me flocks to keepe,
Bare fifteene veres of age, in lether clad,
A maple hooke to get and hould my sheepe,
A waiting dogge, a homely scrip I had.

No skill in beasts, on loue I neuer thought,
Yet but a boye the friendly shepards route
Admitted me, and countrie secrets taught,
To heale my flocks, to fould them round about.

In threatned stormes to lead them to the lee,
To sheare in time, to driue the wolfe awaie,
To knowe the course of starres that fixed bee,
To pipe on meadow reeds each holy-daie.

To sing in rime, as sometimes shepards vse,
To daunce our jiggs on pasture grac't with flowrs
What learnd I not, what toile did I refuse,
To quench loues flames and passe or'e idle houres?
&c. &c.

The reader will easily suppose I have not given the above specimen, but as a literary curiosity. It obviously has little merit as a Poem.


The same curious volume, from which the above two articles are described, contains also the following, of no less rarity and value.


This Poem is dedicated To the Right Honourable Sir Peregria Bartue, Knight, Lord of Willoughby and Earsby, and signed by the Author I. O.

The following is a specimen :

Lo here the teares and sad complaint for her,
Within whose gates all joyes were once abounding,
Faire Ilions teares whose deepe laments may stir
A flintie hart unto a sigh-resounding.

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