Newgate, at the signe of the
Bible, 1636._" This, however, was undoubtedly one of Breton's productions,
as his initials are affixed to the preface. It is in 12mo. and consists of
twenty pages, not numbered. The following extracts will be sufficient to
shew the nature of the volume.

"There are foure persons not to be believed: a horse-courser when he
sweares, a whore when shee weepes, a lawyer when he pleads false, and a
traveller when he tels wonders.

"There are foure great cyphers in the world: hee that is lame among
dancers, dumbe among lawyers, dull among schollers and rude amongst
courtiers

"Foure things grievously empty: a head without braines, a wit without
judgment, a heart without honesty, and a purse without money."

Ant. Wood possessed the _figure of six_, which, however, is now not to be
found among his books left to the university of Oxford, and deposited in
Ashmole's museum. That it once was there, is evident from the MS.
catalogue of that curious collection.

[BO] 8vo. L. 78. Art.

No. IV.

LINES ON SIR JOHN BURROUGHS,

KILLED BY A BULLET AT REEZ[BP].

[_From a MS. in the Bodleian_.]--(_Rawl. Poet_. 142.)

Why did we thus expose thee? what's now all
That island to requite thy funeral?
Though thousand French in murder'd heaps do lie,
It may revenge, it cannot satisfy:
We must bewail our conquest when we see
Our price too dear to buy a victory.
He whose brave fire gave heat to all the rest,
That dealt his spirit in t' each English breast,
From whose divided virtues you may take
So many captains out, and fully make
Them each accomplish'd with those parts, the which,
Jointly, did his well-furnish'd soul enrich.
Not rashly valiant, nor yet fearful wise,
His flame had counsel, and his fury, eyes.
Not struck in courage at the drum's proud beat,
Or made fierce only by the trumpet's heat--
When e'en pale hearts above their pitch do fly,
And, for a while do mad it valiantly.
His rage was tempered well, no fear could daunt
His reason, his cold blood was valiant.
Alas! these vulgar praises injure thee;
Which now a poet would as plenteously
Give some brag-soldier, one that knew no more
Than the fine scabbard and the scarf he wore.
Fathers shall tell their children [this] was he,
(And they hereafter to posterity,)
Rank'd with those forces scourged France of old,
Burrough's and