more musical line than usual, all his actions have to be retried by a newer and higher standard than before.
The pleasing poem entitled A Description of the Country's Recreations,8 also printed among the poems of Sir Henry Wotton, is well known. The following, which bears evident marks of his pen, we will quote, from its secure and continent rhythm:
FALSE LOVE AND TRUE LOVE
As you came from the holy land
Of Walsingham,
Met you not with my true love
By the way as you came?
How shall I know your true love,
That have met many one,
As I went to the holy land,
That have come, that have gone.
She is neither white nor brown,
But as the heavens fair;
There is none hath a form so divine,
In the earth or the air.
Such a one did I meet, good Sir,
Such an angelic face;
Who like a queen, like a nymph did appear,
By her gait, by her grace:
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