Footnotes

"Happy old man, whose worth all mankind knows Except himself, who charitably shows The ready road to Virtue, and to Praise, The road to many long, and happy days; The noble arts of generous piety, And how to compass true felicity. ----he knows no anxious cares, Thro' near a Century of pleasant years; Easy he lives and cheerful shall he die, Well spoken of by late posterity."

June 5, 1683. _(Flatman's Commendatory Verses prefixed to "Thealma and Clearchus;" Poems and Songs by Thomas Flatman, Third Edition.)_

_The Love of Amos and Laura. Written by S.P. London. Printed for Richard Hawkins, dwelling in Chancery-Lane, neere Serieants Inne, 1619._ Printed at the end of a volume entitled, _Alcilia, Philoparthens louing Folly, &c._, which, from its being signed at the end with the initials "J.C.," has been attributed to Walton's friend, John Chalkhill, whose posthumous poem, _Thealma and Clearchus_, he published in the last year of his life. The lines to Walton do not appear in the earlier quarto edition of the book issued by the same publisher in 1613, or in the later quarto of 1628.

_Thealma and Clearchus; a Pastoral Romance, by John Chalkhill. First Published by Isaac Walton, 1683. A New Edition. Revised and Corrected (by S.W. Singer). Chiswick: 1820._

Vol. iv. (1821), pp. 230-249.

Ticknor's _History of Spanish Literature_ (Lond. 1849), vol. iii. p. 177.

_Love and Truth: / in / Two modest and peaceable / Letters / concerning / The distempers of the present Times. / Written / From a quiet and Conformable Citizen of / LONDON, to two busie and Factious/ Shop-keepers in Coventry./_

1 Pet. 4. 15. But let none of you suffer as a busiebody in other mens / matters. /

LONDON, / Printed by _M.C._ for _Henry Brome_ at the Gun / in St. _Pauls_ Church-yard. 1680.

COLLATION: 4to. pp. iv. (with Title) 40 (Sig. A 1 and 2; B to E 4).

York, 1795, pp. x. 70.

_The School of Pantagruel_, Sunbury, 1862, p. 9.

* * * * *

AN ELEGIE UPON DR. DONNE.

1633.

[_Juvenilia: or Certaine Paradoxes and Problemes, written by I. Donne. London, Printed by E.P. for Henry Seyle, and are to be sold at the signe of the Tygers head, in Saint Pauls Church-yard, Anno Dom_. 1633 (pp. 382-384)._

_Poems, by J.D. with Elegies on the Author's Death. London. Printed by M.F. for JOHN MARRIOT, and are to be sold at his Shop in St. Dunstans Church-yard in Fleet-street, 1635._

The text is printed from the revised version of 1635, and the original readings of 1633 are given at the foot of the page.]

_An Elegie upon_ DR. DONNE.

Our _Donne_ is dead; England should mourne, may say We had a man where language chose to stay And shew her gracefull power. I would not praise That and his vast wit (which in these vaine dayes Make many proud) but, as they serv'd to unlock That Cabinet, his minde: where such a stock Of knowledge was repos'd, as all lament (Or should) this generall cause of discontent. And I rejoyce I am not so severe, But (as I write a line) to weepe a teare For his decease; Such sad extremities May make such men as I write Elegies. And wonder not; for, when a generall losse Falls on a nation, and they slight the crosse, God hath rais'd Prophets to awaken them From stupifaction; witnesse my milde pen, Not us'd to upbraid the world, though now it must Freely and boldly, for, the cause is just. Dull age, Oh I would spare thee, but th'art worse, Thou art not onely dull, but hast a curse Of black ingratitude; if not, couldst thou Part with _miraculous Donne_, and make no vow For thee, and thine, successively to pay A sad remembrance to his dying day? Did his youth scatter _Poetry_, wherein Was all Philosophy? was every sinne, Character'd in his _Satyrs_? Made so foule That some have fear'd their shapes, and kept their soule Safer by reading verse? Did he give _dayes_ Past marble monuments, to those, whose praise He would perpetuate? Did he (I feare The dull will doubt:) these at his twentieth year? But, more matur'd; Did his full soule conceive, And in harmonious-holy-numbers weave A_Crown of sacred sonnets_, fit to adorne A dying Martyrs brow: or, to be worne On that blest head of _Mary Magdalen_, After she wip'd Christs feet, but not till then? Did hee (fit for such penitents as shee And he to use) leave us a _Litany_, Which all devout men love, and sure, it shall, As times grow better, grow more classicall? Did he write _Hymnes_, for piety, for wit, Equall to those, great grave _Prudentius_ writ? Spake he all _Languages_? knew he all Lawes? The grounds and use of _Physick_; but because 'Twas mercenary, wav'd it? Went to see That blessed place of _Christs nativity_? Did he returne and preach him? preach him so As since S. _Paul_ none did, none could? Those know, (Such as were blest to heare him) this is truth. Did he confirm thy aged? convert thy youth? Did he these wonders? And is this deare losse Mourn'd by so few? (few for so great a crosse.) But sure the silent are ambitious all To be Close Mourners at his Funerall; If not; In common pitty they forbare By repetitions to renew our care; Or, knowing, griefe conceiv'd, conceal'd, consumes Man irreparably, (as poyson'd fumes Doe waste the braine) make silence a safe way, To'inlarge the Soule from these walls, mud and clay, (Materials of this body) to remaine With _Donne_ in heaven, where no promiscuous pain Lessens the joy we have, for, with _him_, all Are satisfy'd with _joyes essentiall_. Dwell on this joy my thoughts; oh, doe not call Griefe back, by thinking of his Funerall; Forget hee lov'd mee; Waste not my sad yeares; (Which hast to _Davids_ seventy,) fill'd with feares And sorrow for his death; Forget his parts, Which finde a living grave in good mens hearts; And, (for, my first is dayly payd for sinne) Forget to pay my second sigh for him: Forget his powerfull preaching; and forget I am his _Convert_. Oh my frailty! let My flesh be no more heard, it will obtrude This lethargy: so should my gratitude, My flowes of gratitude should so be broke; Which can no more be, than _Donnes_ vertues spoke By any but himselfe; for which cause, I Write no _Encomium_, but this _Elegie_, Which, as a free-will-offring, I here give Fame, and the world, and parting with it grieve I want abilities, fit to set forth A monument, great, as Donnes matchlesse worth. IZ. WA.