His dart, anon, out of the corpse he took, And in his hand (a dreadful sight to see) With great triumph eftsoons the same he shook, That most of all my fears affrayed me; His body dight with nought but bones, pardy; The naked shape of man there saw I plain, All save the flesh, the sinew, and the vein. Lastly, stood War, in glittering arms yclad, With visage grim, stern look, and blackly hued: In his right hand a naked sword he had, That to the hilts was all with blood imbrued; And in his left (that kings and kingdoms rued) Famine and fire he held, and therewithal He razed towns, and threw down towers and all: Cities he sack'd, and realms (that whilom flower'd In honour, glory, and rule, above the rest) He overwhelm'd, and all their fame devour'd, Consumed, destroy'd, wasted, and never ceased, Till he their wealth, their name, and all oppress'd: His face forhew'd with wounds; and by his side There hung his targe, with gashes deep and wide. [1] 'Piled:' bare. [2] 'Enthirling:' piercing. HENRY DUKE OP BUCKINGHAM IN THE INFERNAL REGIONS. Then first came Henry Duke of Buckingham, His cloak of black all piled,[1] and quite forlorn, Wringing his hands, and Fortune oft doth blame, Which of a duke had made him now her scorn; With ghastly looks, as one in manner lorn, Oft spread his arms, stretch'd hands he joins as fast With rueful cheer, and vapour'd eyes upcast. His cloak he rent, his manly breast he beat; His hair all torn, about the place it lain: My heart so molt to see his grief so great, As feelingly, methought, it dropp'd away: His eyes they whirl'd about withouten stay: With stormy sighs the place did so complain, As if his heart at each had burst in twain. Thrice he began to tell his doleful tale, And thrice the sighs did swallow up his voice; At each of which he shrieked so withal, As though the heavens rived with the noise; Till at the last, recovering of his voice, Supping the tears that all his breast berain'd, On cruel Fortune weeping thus he plain'd. [1] 'Piled:' bare. JOHN HARRINGTON. Of Harrington we know only that he was born in 1534 and died in 1582; that he was imprisoned in the Tower by Queen Mary for holding correspondence with Elizabeth; and after the accession of the latter to the throne, was favoured and promoted by her; and that he has written some pretty verses of an amatory kind. SONNET ON ISABELLA MARKHAM, WHEN I FIRST THOUGHT HER FAIR, AS SHE STOOD AT THE PRINCESS'S WINDOW, IN GOODLY ATTIRE, AND TALKED TO DIVERS IN THE COURT-YARD. Whence comes my love? O heart, disclose; It was from cheeks that shamed the rose, From lips that spoil the ruby's praise, From eyes that mock the diamond's blaze: Whence comes my woe? as freely own; Ah me! 'twas from a heart like stone. The blushing cheek speaks modest mind, The lips befitting words most kind, The eye does tempt to love's desire, And seems to say, ''Tis Cupid's fire;' Yet all so fair but speak my moan, Since nought doth say the heart of stone.