Yet for birselfe doth Ilion not mone, Sweet sacred muses, you whose gentle eares Now rest your selues, your ayde I not implore, Nor can I craue upon your blubbered cheeks, I saw your teares and pittifull wamentings, Good-naturde nymphs you are too milde for me; Furies and frensies are fit companie RICHARD ZOUCHE. THIS Author, a Professor of Civil Law, was much esteemed in his day, and published many valuable works. He has, however, never been noticed as a Poet; but that he deserves to be so, will sufficiently appear from the following description and specimen of a curious little voJume, which I believe to be exceedingly rare, and which has been lent me by Mr. Thomas Payne of the Mews Gate, whom I have invariably found prompt to assist the cause of literature. noticed « THE DOVE, Or, Passages of Cosmography, by Richard Zouche, Civillian of New College, in Oxford. Sicut Columbæ. London. Printed for George Norton, and are to be sould at his shop under the Black Bulle, neere Temple Barre. 1613." The work is dedicated “ To the most noble and worthily honoured Edward Lord Zouche, St. Maur and Cantelupe of his Majesties Privie Counsell." The Poein is a concise geographical description of three quarters of the world, Asia, Africa, and Europe, in the manner of Dionysius. The following is the Author's Picture of Great Brittaine, EUROPE. EUROPE. Great BriTTAINE shadow of the starry sphear's Selfe viewing beauties true presented grace, Like the rich Croisade on th' imperiall ball, Bounded within the watry firmament, Whose euer mouing streames about it role, Betwixt her riuers Zone-dividing lines, Auon and Twede her tropicks, Zodiack wise Thames, as th' equator, doth more eeuen runne, Maiesticke Sinne, long may thy kinde aspect Beyond all equy, as without defect, Till passing from our teare bedewed eyes, Too soone our Julian Starre late prince of light, Тоо : Too soone expir’d, ô worthy long to proue And faire Elisa midst the glistering crew, enew'd, For Latmus shade, doth spend her precious houres Yet like those glistring emblems neare the pole, And Brittaines chariot as the Northern wayne, A stately burs, built in the Western strand, So whilst the glorious Day star shines more bright, Sweet-seated Sals-bury Wilslıyres ornament, But that it doth more firm and surely stand, Bathe, fairely built, throughout the world is knowne Poore Poore worme-like creeping men she might restore : Bristow, the marchants magazin, enclos'd Viewing her verdant marsh, may well disdaine Old Winchester, the auncient seate of kings Where worthy Wicchams children now maintaine Oxford by Isis crystall streames confin'd, But eyther of these thrice illustrious eyes, As that true ensigne of th’ Almighties loue, astonished doth moue To wonder at such strange varietie: Rain-bow, resembling London, Englands blisse, Finis. BARNABE |