But even herein the true master of speech showed his masterdom: his play must not be by-play; it must contribute to the truth of the idea which was taking form in those words.

We shall see this more plainly when we come to transcribe some of Sir Philip Sidney's work.

There is no irreverence in it.

Nor can I take it as any sign of hardness that Raleigh should treat the visual image of his own anticipated death with so much coolness, if the writer of a little elegy on his execution, when Raleigh was fourteen years older than at the presumed date of the foregoing verses, describes him truly when he says: I saw in every stander-by Pale death, life only in thy eye.
The following hymn is also attributed to Raleigh.

If it has less brilliance of fancy, it has none of the faults of the preceding, and is far more artistic in construction and finish, notwithstanding a degree of irregularity.
Rise, oh my soul, with thy desires to heaven; And with divinest contemplation use Thy time, where time's eternity is given; And let vain thoughts no more thy thoughts abuse, But down in darkness let them lie: So live thy better, let thy worse thoughts die! And thou, my soul, inspired with holy flame, View and review, with most regardful eye, That holy cross, whence thy salvation came, On which thy Saviour and thy sin did die! For in that sacred object is much pleasure, And in that Saviour is my life, my treasure.
To thee, O Jesus, I direct my eyes; To thee my hands, to thee my humble knees, To thee my heart shall offer sacrifice; To thee my thoughts, who my thoughts only sees-- To thee myself,--myself and all I give; To thee I die; to thee I only live! See what an effect of stately composure quiet artistic care produces, and how it leaves the ear of the mind in a satisfied peace! There are a few fine lines in the poem.