Here is one:-- _On Peter's Poetry_.
When Peter condescends to write, His verse deserves to see the _light_.
If any further you inquire, I mean--the candle or the fire.
Also a practical statesman, it was to Huyghens that Holland owes the beautiful old road from The Hague to Scheveningen in which Jacob Cats built his house.
Among these friends Anna and Tesselschade grew into cultured women of quick and sympathetic intellect.

Both wrote poetry, but Tesselschade's is superior to her sister's.

Among Anna's early work were some additions to a new edition of her father's _Zinne-Poppen_, one of her poems running thus in the translation by Mr, Edmund Gosse in the very pleasant essay on Tesselschade in his _Studies in the Literature of Northern Europe_:-- A wife that sings and pipes all day, And never puts her lute away, No service to her hand finds she; Fie, fie! for this is vanity! But is it not a heavenly sight To see a woman take delight With song or string her husband dear, When daily work is done, to cheer?
Misuse may turn the sweetest sweet To loathsome wormwood, I repeat; Yea, wholesome medicine, full of grace, May prove a poison--out of place.
They who on thoughts eternal rest, With earthly pleasures may be blest; Since they know well these shadows gay, Like wind and smoke, will pass away.
Tesselschade, who was much loved by her poet friends, disappointed them all by marrying a dull sailor of Alkmaar named Albert Krombalgh.

Settling down at Alkmaar, she continued her intercourse with her old companions, and some new ones, by letter.

Among her new friends were Barlaeus, or Van Baerle, the first Latinist of the day, and Jacob Cats.