We may not linger over "Nosce Teipsum." Passing to the "Hymnes to Astræa" and "Orchestra, or a Poeme of Dauncing" while they have the same characteristics with "Nosce Teipsum," they yet suggest another characteristic in Davies as a Poet--_unexpectedness of brilliant and great things_. You count on the Lark's up-springing and the Lark's idyllic song, if you are traversing its bladed or daisied possession; but you are startled if it rise from the mired or dusty street or the inodorous slum. You look for the eagle when you have climbed Shehallion and other Highland mountain fastnesses; but suppose it were to flap out upon you as you paced into your semi-suburban villa. So in "Nosce Teipsum," as seen, deep thought perfectly worked is what knowing the Poet you look for therein; but even in "Hymnes to Astræa" and "Orchestra" you very soon discover that it is still the Poet of "Nosce Teipsum" who sings. The moods of thought are airier and more vivacious substantively, but the thinking and shaping and colouring of imagination is the same; and 'unexpected' is really _the_ word that seems to me to express the out-flashing of the higher faculty. Turning to the "Hymnes to Astræa," how exquisite are the fancy and the flattery of Hymne V., "To the Larke," as she is wooed by the Poet-Courtier to be his minstrel to 'sing' of Elizabeth. You do not for a moment feel the 'artificial restraint' of the margin-letters that go to form Elizabetha Regina:-- Earley, cheerfull, mounting Larke, Light's gentle vsher, Morning's clark, In merry notes delighting; Stint awhile thy song, and harke, And learn my new inditing. Beare vp this hymne, to heau'n it beare, Euen vp to heau'n, and sing it there, To heau'n each morning beare it; Haue it set to some sweet sphere, And let the Angels heare it. Renownd Astræa, that great name, Exceeding great in worth and fame, Great worth hath so renownd it; It is Astræa's name I praise, Now then, sweet Larke, do thou it raise, And in high Heauen resound it. (p. 133.) Meet companion to this is Hymne VII., "To the Rose:"-- Eye of the Garden, Queene of flowres, Love's cup wherein he nectar powres, Ingendered first of nectar; Sweet nurse-child of the Spring's young howres, And Beautie's faire character. Best iewell that the Earth doth weare, Euen when the braue young sunne draws neare, To her hot Loue pretending; Himselfe likewise like forme doth beare, At rising and descending. Rose of the Queene of Loue belou'd; England's great Kings diuinely mou'd, Gave Roses in their banner; It shewed that Beautie's Rose indeed, Now in this age should them succeed, And raigne in more sweet manner. (p. 135.)