Though churls such some, to crave can come,
And pray once.got, regard thee not,
Yet, live or die, so will not I,

Example give.

When learned men could there nor then,

Devise to 'swage, the stormy rage,

Nor yet the fury of my dissury,*

That long I had;

From Norwich air, in great despair,

Away to fly, or else to die,

To seek more health, to seek more wealth,
Then was I glad.

From thence so sent, away I went,

With sickness worn, as one forlorn,
To house my head at Fairsted,
Where whiles I dwelt.

The tithing life, the tithing strife,
Through tithing ill of Jack and Gill,
The daily pays, the miry ways,
Too long I felt.

When charges grew, still new and new,
And that I spy'd, if parson dy'd,
(All hope in vain) to hope for gain,

I might go dance:

Once rid my hand, of parsonage land,
Thence, by and by, away went I,
To London straight, to hope and wait,
For better chance.

that of Thorpe on the Hill, in the county of Lincoln. About nine months after he was installed Chancellor of Lincoln. In 1560, he was restored to his Deanery, when he resigned Lopham; and in 1571, was appointed Bishop of Sodor and Man, and obtained a license to hold the Deanery in commendam, together with the Rectories of Diss and Thorpe on the Hill. Having lived at Norwich until 1573, he died there at an advanced age, and was buried in the middle of the church of St. Andrew in that city.

This dreadful stranguary continued nearly four days.

Well, London! well, thou bear'st the bell, Of praise about, England throughout, And dost indeed, to such as need,

Much kindness shew.

Who that with thee, can hardly agree,

Nor can well praise, thy friendly ways,
Shall friendship find, to please his mind,
In places few.

As for such mates, as virtue hates,

Or he or they, that

go so gay,

That needs he must,

take all of trust,

For him and his :

Though such by woe, through Lothbury go, For being spy'd about Cheapside,

Lest mercers' books, for money looks,

Small matter it is.

When gains were gone, and years grew on,

And death did cry, from London fly,

In Cambridge then, I found again,

A resting plot ;

In college best, of all the rest,

With thanks to thee, O Trinity!

Through thee and thine, for me and mine,

Some stay I got.

Since hap haps so, let toiling go.

Let serving pains, yield forth her gains,
Let courtly gifts, with wedding shifts,
Help now to live:

Let music win, let stock come in ;
Let wisdom carve, let reason serve;
For here I crave, such end to have,

As God shall give.

Thus friends by me, perceive may ye,
That gentry stands, not all by lands,
Nor all so feft, or plenty left,

By parent's gift;

But now and then of gentlemen,

The younger son is driven to run,
And glad to seek, from creek to creek,
To come by thrift,

And more by this, to conster is,

In world is set, enough to get;

But where and when, that scarcely can

The wisest tell.

By learning, some to riches come ;

By ship and plough, some get enough ;

And some so wive, that trim they thrive,

And speed full well.

To this before, add one thing more,

Youth hardness taught, with knowledge wrought,

Most apt do prove, to shift and shove,

Among the best.

Where cocking dads, make saucy lads,

In youth so rage, to beg in age,

Or else to fetch, a Tyburn stretch,
Among the rest.

Not rampish toy of girl and boy,
Nor garment trim of her or him,
In childhood spent, to fond intent,
Good end doth frame.

If mark we shall, the sum of all,
The end it is that noted is,

Which, if it bide, with virtue try'd,
Deserveth fame.

When all is done, learn this my son,
Not friend nor skill, nor wit at will,
Nor ship nor clod, but only God,
Doth all in all:

Man taketh pain, God giveth gain,
Man doth his best, God doth the rest,
Man well intends, God foizon sends,
Else want he shall.

Some seek for wealth, I seek my health,
Some seek to please, I seek mine ease,
Some seek to save, I seek to have,

To live upright,

More than to ride with pomp

Or for to jet, in others debt:

and pride,

Such is my skill, and shall be still,

For any wight.

Too fond were I, here thus to lie,

Unless that wealth might further health,

And profit some should thereby come,

To help withall;

This causeth me, well pleas'd to be,

Such drift to make, such life to take,
Enforcing mind, remorse to find,

As need, need shall.

Friend, all things weigh'd, that here is said, And being got, that pays the shot,

Methinks of right, have leave I might,

(Death drawing near).

To seek some ways, my God to praise,

And mercy crave, in time to have,
And for the rest, what he thinks best,
To suffer here.

A DESPAIRING AUTHOR,

BY THOMAS NASHE.

Of Thomas Nashe, the noted controversialist, whose literary squabbles with Gabriel Harvey are so full of bitter ribaldry, and whose apology for his unhappy companion, Robert Greene, contains so many curious notices of the petty manners of the Metropolis, especially among hireling authors of his own time, much has been said in almost all the late publications, which have any allusion to Elizabethan literature. It is a name, indeed, familiar to every one, who has pored over the exuberant notemakers on Shakespeare.

He was a native of Lowestoft in this County, and was educated at St. John's College, Cambridge, where he became B. A. in 1585 If we may judge from his pamphlet, entitled "Pierce "Pennilesse," which, though written with considerable spirit, seems to breathe the sentiments of a man in the height of ruge and despair against the world, it appears probable that he had met with severe disappointments, and was reduced to extreme misery and distress from his own indiscretions, and a life of extravagance and debauchery. He is supposed to have died about 1600, a sincere penitent.

Nashe wrote with considerable ease, harmony, and energy; in a vein of spirited and judicious criticism, of caustic satire, and of pointed humour. Notwithstanding the occasional mendicity which his pages display, the whole are richly diversified with matter and local allusions, and enlivened with witticisms; and furnish such an assemblage of amusing traits of manners and of authors, that his writings may justly be called the granary for commentators, and those whose research has turned to the Elizabethan æra. More notes have been gathered from the light tracts of Tom Nashe than from the voluminous productions of any of his contemporaries. Mr. D'Israeli, in the second volume