ARS VICTRIX.

"Oui, l'œuvre sort plus belle
D'une forme au travail

Rebelle,

Vers, marbre, onyx, émail."

THEOPHILE GAUTIER.

YES; when the ways oppose

When the hard means rebel,

Fairer the work out-grows,—

More potent far the spell.

O Poet, then, forbear

The loosely-sandalled verse,

Choose rather thou to wear

The buskin-strait and terse;

Leave to the tiro's hand

The limp and shapeless style;

See that thy form demand

The labour of the file.

Sculptor, do thou discard

The yielding clay,—consign

To Paros marble hard

The beauty of thy line ;

Model thy Satyr's face

In bronze of Syracuse ;

In the veined agate trace

The profile of thy Muse.

Painter, that still must mix

But transient tints anew,

Thou in the furnace fix

The firm enamel's hue;

Let the smooth tile receive

Thy dove-drawn Erycine;

Thy Sirens blue at eve

Coiled in a wash of wine.

All passes. ART alone

Enduring stays to us;

The Bust out-lasts the throne,—

The Coin, Tiberius ;

Even the gods must go ;

Only the lofty Rhyme

Not countless years o'erthrow,— Not long array of time.

Paint, chisel, then, or write;

But, that the work surpass,

With the hard fashion fight,

With the resisting mass.

A LOYALL BALLADE OF THE

ARMAD A.

TO THE MOST HIGH, MIGHTIE AND MAGNIFICENT

EMPERESSE, ELIZABETH

by the grace of God Queene of England, Fraunce and Ireland, and of Virginia, Defender of the

Faith, etc.

KING PHILLIP had vaunted his claimes;

He had sworne for a yeere he would sacke us;

With an Armie of heathenishe names

He was coming to faggot and stacke us;

Like the theeves of the sea he would tracke us, And shatter our Shippes on the maine;

But wee had bolde Neptune to backe us,-

And where are the Gallions of Spayne?

His Carackes were christned of Dames

To the kirtles whereof he would tacke us;

With his Saints and his gilded Sterne-frames,

He had thought like an eggeshell to cracke us; Now Howard may get to his Flaccus,

And Drake to his Devon againe,

And Hawkins bowle rubbers to Bacchus,-

For where are the Gallions of Spayne?

Let his Maiestie hang to St. James

The axe that he whetted to hacke us;

He must playe at some lustier games

Or at sea he can hope to out-thwacke us ;