The world went round about,
No cares we ever knew:
But now, alas! sh' as left me,
Falero, lero, loo.

As we walked home together,

At midnight, through the town,

To keep away the weather,

O'er her I'd cast my gown;

No cold my love should feel,

Whate'er the heavens could do;

But now, alas! sh' as left me,
Falero, lero, loo.

Like doves we would be billing,

And clip and kiss so fast,

Yet she would be unwilling

That I should kiss the last;

They're Judas kisses now,

Since that they proved untrue;

For, now, alas! sh' as left me,
Falero, lero, loo.

To maidens' vows and swearing
Henceforth no credit give,
You may give them the hearing,

But never them believe:

They are as false as fair,

Unconstant, frail, untrue

For mine, alas! hath left me,
Falero, lero, loo.

'Twas I that paid for all things,

"T was others drank the wine:

I cannot now recall things,
Live but a fool to pine:

'Twas I that beat the bush,

The bird to others flew ;

For she, alas! hath left me,
Falero, lero, loo.

If ever that dame Nature,

For this false lover's sake,
Another pleasing creature,

Like unto her would make,

Let her remember this,

To make the other true;
For this, alas! hath left me,
Falero, lero, loo.

No riches, now, can raise me,
No want make me despair;

No misery amaze me,

Nor yet for want I care:

I have lost a world itself,

My earthly heaven, adieu !
Since she, alas! hath left me,
Falero, lero, loo.

["Fair Virtue, the mistress of Phil'arete." 1622.]

Shall I, wasting in despair,

Die, because a woman's fair?

Or make pale my cheeks with care,

'Cause another's rosy are?

Be she fairer than the day,

Or the flowery meads in May:

If she be not so to me,

What care I how fair she be?

Should my heart be grieved, or pined,

'Cause I see a woman kind?

Or a well-disposéd nature

Joinéd with a lovely feature?

Be she meeker, kinder, than
Turtle-dove, or pelican:

If she be not so to me,

What care I how kind she be?

Shall a woman's virtues move

Me to perish for her love?
Or, her well-deserving known,
Make me quite forget mine own?
Be she with that goodness blest,
Which may gain her name of Best;
If she be not such to me,

What care I how good she be?

'Cause her fortune seems too high,

Shall I play the fool and die?
Those that bear a noble mind,

Where they want of riches find,

Think what with them they would do,

That without them dare to woo.

And unless that mind I see,

What care I though great she be?

Great, or good, or kind, or fair,
I will ne'er the more despair ;
If she love me, this believe,
I will die ere she shall grieve.
If she slight me when I woo,
I can scorn, and let her go.

For, if she be not for me,
What care I for whom she be?

SIR HENRY WOTTON.

1568-1639.

THE QUEEN OF BOHEMIA.

ELIZABETH, Queen of Bohemia, the heroine of Wotton's beautiful poem, was the daughter of James the First. She was born in Scotland, on the 19th of August, 1596, and on the 14th of February, 1613, was married to Frederic the Fifth, the Elector Palatine, in the great banqueting-house at Whitehall. The happy pair remained in England until the 10th of April, when they proceeded in great pomp to Heidelburgh, the capital of the Palatinate, where they reigned for some years in peace and prosperity. In 1619, the crown of Bohemia was offered to the Elector. King James endeavoured to persuade him to refuse it, forewarning him that he was to expect no assistance from England, in case his claims should be disputed; but the entreaties of his wife prevailed, and he accepted it, and was crowned at Prague on the 4th of November. The Emperor of Austria declared him a traitor, and a rebel against the Empire; deprived him of his Electoral dignity, and prepared to invade Bohemia and the Palatinate. A year later a decisive battle was fought under the walls of Prague, and the new-made monarch was discomfited, and obliged to fly by night with his Queen, who was great with child. Their first resting-place was Breslau, one hundred and twenty miles from the field of battle. Driven from Breslau, they wandered awhile in Silesia and Brandenburgh, and at length settled in Holland, where they were supported by the House of Nassau, and by occasional contributions from persons of rank in England. King James refused to help them, but consented to negotiate in their behalf, and did so on various occasions, but without success. Of Sir Henry Wotton, who was his ambassador on one of these fruitless missions, in 1621, the following anedote is related by his biographer, Walton. "There were at that time," says honest Izaak, "two opposite armies in the field; and as they were treating, there was a battle fought, in the managery whereof there was so many miserable errors on the one side, (so Sir Henry Wotton expresses it in a dispatch to the King,) and so advantageous events to the Emperor, as put an end to all present hopes of a successful treaty; so that Sir Henry, seeing the face of peace altered by that victory, prepared for a removal from that court; and at his departure from the Emperor, was so bold as to remember him, 'That the events of every battle move on the unseen wheels