And inform me to what political event this song, of which I have an imperfect MS. copy, refers. EDWARD PEACOCK, JUN. _Henry and the Nut-brown Maid._--SEARCH would be obliged for any information as to the authorship of this beautiful ballad. [Mr. Wright, in his handsome black-letter reprint, published by Pickering in 1836, states, that "it is impossible to fix the date of this ballad," and has not attempted to trace the authorship. We shall be very glad if SEARCH's Query should produce information upon either of these points.] * * * * * REPLIES. FRENCH POEM BY MALHERBE. The two stanzas your correspondent E.R.C.B. has cited (Vol. ii., p. 71.) are from an elegiac poem by MALHERBE (who died in 1628, at the good old age of seventy-three), which is entitled _Consolation à Monsieur Du Perrier sur la Mort de sa Fille_. It has always been a great favorite of mine; for, like Gray's Elegy and the celebrated _Coplas_ of Jorge Manrique on the death of his father, beside its philosophic moralising strain, it has that pathetic character which makes its way at once to the heart. I will transcribe the first four stanzas for the sake of the beauty of the fourth:-- "Ta douleur, Du Perrier, sera done éternelle, Et les tristes discours Que te met en l'esprit l'amitié paternelle L'augmenteront toujours. "Le malheur de ta fille au tombeau descendue, Par un commun trépas, Est-ce quelque dédale, où ta raison perdue Ne se retrouve pas? "Je sai de quels appas son enfance estoit pleine; Et n'ay pas entrepris, Injurieux ami, de soulager ta peine Avecque son mépris. "Mais elles estoit du monde, où les plus belles choses Ont le pire destin: Et Rose elle a vécu ce que vivent les roses, L'espace d'un matin." The whole poem consists of twenty-one stanzas and should be read as a whole; but there are several other striking passages. The consolation the poet offers to his friend breathes the spirit of Epictetus:-- "De moy, déjà deux fois d'une pareille foudre Je me suis vu perclus, Et deux fois la raison m'a si bien fait resoudre, Qu'il ne m'en souvient plus. "Non qu'il ne me soit grief que la terre possède Ce qui me fut si cher; Mais en un accident qui n'a point de remède, II n'en faut point chercher." Then follow the two stanzas cited by your correspondent, and the closing verse is:-- "De murmurer contre-elle et perdre patience, Il est mal-à-propos: Vouloir ce que Dieu veut, est la seule science Qui nous met en repos." The stanza beginning "Le pauvre en sa cabane," is an admirable imitation of the "Pallida mors æquo pulsat pede," &c. of Horace, which a countryman of the poet is said to have less happily rendered "La pâle mort avec son pied de cheval," &c.