SELECTION
FROM THE
POETICAL WORKS
Cijomas Careta).
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME ;
Bif John Erans, Bristol Mercury Office f
AND SOLD BY
THOMAS FRY & CO. NO. 46, HIGH-STREET, BRISTOL.
1810.
TO
SIR S. EGERTON BRYDGES, K. J.
THE RENOVATOR OF EARLY ENGLISH LITERATURE,
THIS SELECTION
FROM THE WORKS OF
CAREW, ^
IS MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED,
BY
THE EDITOR.
A S
646290
PREFACE.
The PubuC is h^re presented with a
selection from the Poetical Works of an
unjustly-neglected Author, and I shall
feel ample gratification in the conscious-
ness of reviving his memory, if what I
have done be instrumental to that effect.
To many readers, the notes appended
may appear prolix and unnecessary j I
can only observe, they appeared to me
not irrelative. One principal object in
gathering tliem was, to induce the Lover
of Poesy to give more attention to the
contemporaries of my Author. In our
enthusiastic admiration of " Fancy's
VI
" sweetest children," SPENSER, Shak-
SPEARE, and the immortal MiLTON, we
seem to have forgotten the existence of
Drayton, Daniel, Browne, the two
Fletchers, Drummond, and Wither* —
poets who, although not possessing the
power to engage the imagination so
strongly as the great triumvirate, are
still, to a high degree, sublime, pictu-
resque, and pathetic; and they must,
either from the present age or from
posterity, receive that regard to their
merits which has hitherto been denied
them, except by the " chosen few.''*
I now commit this volume to the
indulgent Critic, with an earnest hope,
* To these may be added, Habingtoii, Lovelace,
Herrick, and, in the department of the Drama,
Beaumont and Fletcher, Ben Jonson, Massinger,
Shirley, and Ford.
Vll
that Carew may be at last restored to
that rank he ought long ago to have
possessed, and that Waller may be no
longer exclusively considered the Refiner
of English Poetry.
A learned Critic has long ago remarked,
that *' Carew opens the poetical age of
*' Charles I. with great lustre. He pre-
*' served the harmony of his verse, if not
*' the purity of his taste, untainted by
*' his metaphysical contemporaries. In.
*' point of versification, he is the link
*' which joins Spenser and Fairfax to
" Waller and Denham." — British Critic,
vol. xix. p. 621.
To conclude, — I devoutly wish the
reader may receive as much pleasure in
perusing, as I have in editing, this
Selection.
JOHN FRY.
Bristol, January 1810.
SOME ACCOUNT OF
THOMAS CARFJV.
'iv
- The trite observation, that the Life of a Maii of
Letters is too uniform for much diversity of relation
in narrating it, although the fallacy of such corol-
lary is evinced in many inijtances to the contrary,
6n the present occasion remains in full force. The
life of Carew had few incidents, and those are
easily told.
The sera of his birth is doubtful, but, from col-
lateral circumstances, probably about 1577- He
was a descendant from the ancient and honorable
family of his name, long seated in Cornwall (but
the branch whence he immediately sprung was of
Glocestershire), and brother to Sir Matthew Carew,
a strenuous and distinguished adherent to Charles,
in the unfortunate dissensions which, a century
and an half ago, deluged this country with blood,
Thomas received his education at Corpus Christi
College, Oxford ; and although, according to Wood,
it does not appear that he was matriculated as a
member, or admitted to a degree, his genius aud
abilities early acc|uired him the notice of the wise
aud good.
His attainments and education were improved by
travel, and the manners and customs of different^
countries which he visited were observed ^ith an
attentive eye.
On his return, birth, as well as accomplishments,
were his introductions to the circles of the great ;
and AVeod tells us, " he was adored by the poets of
his time." Trusting implicitly to the honest bio-
grapher, we know he was beloved by Jonson, Donne,
D'Avenant, May, and Suckling; although after
his death the latter could write of him,
** Tom Carew was next, but he had a fault
" That would not well stand with a Laureat ;
" His Muse was hide-bound, and th' issue of 's brain
*' Was seldom brought forth but with trouble and pain.''*
To this unmerited censure we need only oppose
the opinion of the ingenious Mister Headley : *' He
*' has the ease without the pedantry of Waller, and
" perhaps less conceit."
The interest of his brother probably opened the
way for an introduction to Charles, the fruits of
which were, bein;^ appointed (Gentleman of the
Privy Chamber, and Sewer in ordinary to His
Majesty: those posts he retained till his death,
which happened in l639, universally regretted.
Lord Clarendon has recorded of him that he
possessed excellent parts, and " was a person of a
*• pleasant and facetious wit, and made many
XI
*• poems (especially in the amorous way), which
'* for the sharpness of the fancy, and the elegancy
** of the language, in which that language was
** spiced, were at last equal, if not superior to any
•' of that time. But his glory was, that after fifty
*' years of his life, spent with less severity or exact-
" ness than it ought to have been, he died with the
*' greatest remorse for that license, and with the
" greatest manifestation of Christianity that his
" best friends could desire."
A little remains to be said relative to Celia, the
lady to whom most of his amatory productions are
addressed. At this period of time it would be
difficult, and indeed impracticable, to ascertain her
real name: we have no clue to direct us, either in
his own writings or those of his contemporaries.
For her, however, a sincere affection seems to have
been entertained, although he never received a
return.
*' Oh Love, requited Love J how fine thy thrills,
" That shake the tremhliiig frame with ecstacy,
" E'en every vein celestial pleasure fills,
" And inexpressive hiiss is in each sigh."
Brydges, Son. 30, Poems, ed. I8O7.
This disappointment may palliate, if it does not
excuse the irregularities of his conduct.
I may be expected to say a few words respecting
the merit of the Poems selected in the following
Xll
pao-es. Among the elegant Reliques of Bishop
Percy, and Specimens of Mister EUis, many of
them have already found a place, as well as 'in the
Select Beauties of Mister Headley, who seems to
have entertained a very just idea of Carew, altliough
his critique has not succeeded in regaining the
public attention.
It is in the Amatory department that we must
seek, in order to form a correct opinion of his
poetical talent. In it I do not hesitate to assert,
every reader of taste will discover a tender glow of
imagination and felicity in combining ideas, that
mark him as a true poet. It is easy to scribble
verses, but quite difterent to write poetry. In
Carew we almost always perceive an unaffected
method of sentiment, so many beautiful images
that are not to be found in any former author;
added to which, so mellifluous a flow of harmony
in his lines, that we cannot deny him the praise of
the latter. He is the first that has sung the praises
of Beauty, and the delightful sensations of Love,
with Doric delicacy. He displays a manner of his
own, much superior to the pedantic metaphysical
■effusions of Waller, and he only requires to be
inore known to be more redde.
The beautiful little piece, Disdaine Returned,
has already met the commendation of that elezant
critic. Bishop Percy, and been inserted in Mister
Ellis's Specimens.
Xlll
Itt the Pastoral Dialogue, there are soriie pas-
sages exquisitely fine. Such are,
" Sec, Love, t\ie blushes of the morn appear,
" And now she hnngs her pearly store,
" llob'd from the eastern shore,
" r th' cowslips bell and roses rare."
*' They kist and wept, and from their lips and eyes,
" In a mixt dew of briny sweet,
" Their joys and sorrows meet."
The ensuing image has been used in a dilated
manner by many of our moderu poets.
" The winged hours fly fast while we embrace,
" But when we want their help to meet,
" They move with leaden feet."
The Primrose also so sweetly
*' Bepearl'd with true poetic dew,"
evidently ranks our author amongst " Fancy's
children," who
" Warble their native wood no(cs wild."
It may not be Improper to remark, tliat for this
Selection the 2d edition of Carew, lG4'2, has been
used, with one exception, in wliich 1 have conjec-
turally altered a word.
" The parents that first gave her breath,
** And their ead friemis laid her in ettrth."
XIV
So stand the two lines in that edition, and the
one of 1772; but I have taken the liberty, for the
sake of the rime, of altering the first line to
" The parents that first gave her Kr^A."
And so it is most probable Carew wrote it.
J. F.
Bristol, Jan. isio«
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
Page
DEDICATION Hi
PREFACE T
SOME ACCOUNT OF THOMAS CAREW ix
AMATORY. Pciswasions to Love 3
Lip8 and Eyes 10
SoNC. Murdring Beauty 12 .
Sccrerie Protested 13
A Prayer to the Wind 14
Song. Mediocrity in Love rejected 17
Good Counsel to a Young Maid. ..18
To my Mistris, sitting by a River's Side.. ..20
Sons, Conquest by Flight 23
To my Inconstant Mistris 24
Perswasions to Enjoy 25
Ingrateful Beauty threatued...yw 36
Disdaine returned 29
.Song. Eternity of Love protested 31
Good Connsell to a Young Maid 32
Song. To One who, when I prais'd my
Mistris Beauty, said I was blind 33
Toroy Mistris, I burning in Love 34
To her againc, she burning in a
Feaver 3(i
i
A Fly that flew into my Mistris her Eye... 37
Song. Celia Singing 39
XVI
Page
AMATORY. BoUlnesscin Love 40
A Pastoi-atl Dialogue 43
Red and White Roses 46
The Enquiry 47
The Primrose 49
The Protestation 52
The Dart 56
Upon a Mole in Celia's Bosome. 57
DESCRIPTIVE. The Spring ^ 6l
ToSaxham 6t
To my Friend G. N. from Wrest 68
ELEGIAC. Epitaph oe Lady Mary Villers 79
Anoilier 80
EPLSTOLARY. Upon Master W. Moantague his
Retui-ne 83
To Biy worthy Friend Master George
Sands 87
To my Lord Admirall go
9lmatorp*
mtA...^^
TO
A. L.
PERSWASIONS TO LOVE.
Thinke not, 'cause men flatt'ring say,
Y'are fresh as Aprill, sweet as Miay,
Bright as is the morriiftg-starre
That you are so ; or though you are.
Be not therefore proud, and deem 5
All men unworthy your esteeme:
V. 3. BrigJtt as is the numing «/an-e.]— Thus Milton^ Ode cK
May Morning, 1.1.
" Now tbe bright momittfj ataty day's harbinger,
" Comes duncing< from the East."
Spenser, F. Q. b. i. c. 12. st. 21.
" As bright as (loth the wornw^ stafre appears
Out of the East."
B 2
For being so, you loose the pleasure
Of being faire, since that rich treasure
Of rare beauty and sweet feature
Was bestow'd on you by Nature 10
To be enjoy'd, and 'twere a sin
There to be scarce, where she hath beene
So prodigall of her best grace*;
Thus common beauties and meane faces
Shall have more pastime, and enjoy 15
The sport you loose, by being coy.
Did the thing for which I sue,
Onely concerne myselfe, not you;
Were men so fram'd as they alone
Reap'd all the pleasure, women none, 20
Then had you reason to be scant;
But twere a madnesse not to grant
That which affords (if you consent)
To you the giver, more content
Than me the beggar; oh then be 25
Kind to yourselfe, if not to mee;
Starve not yourselfe, because you may
Thereby make me pine away;
Nor let brittle beauty make
You your wiser thoughts forsake: 30
For that lovely face will faile;
Eeautie's sweet, but beautie's fraile;
'Tis sooner past, 'tis sooner done
Than summer's rainc, or winter's sun ;
Most fleeting when it is most deare ; 35
'Tis gone, while wee but say ^tis here.
These curious locks so aptly twind.
Whose every haire a soule doth bind,
t). 32. Beautie's sweety but beautie'sjTaU.}— Milton, Par, Lost,
b. xi V. 538.
" thou mnst outlive
Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will change
To withei'd, weak, aadgtay.'"
V. 37. These curious locks so aptly twind, &c.] — There is a
great similarity between this poem and Daniel's " Descrip-
tion of Beauty," translated from Marino, particularly the
fonr following^ stanzas.
Old trembling age will come.
With wrinkPd checks and stains.
With motion troublesome;
With skin and bloodless veins.
That lively visage reaven.
And made defurmM and old,
Hates sight of glass it lov'd so to behold.
6
Will change their abxoun hue, and grow
White, and cold as winter's snow. 40
That eye which now is Cupid's nest
Will prove his grave, and all the rest
Thy gold and scarlet shall
Pale silrcr-colour be ;
Thy row of pearls shall fall
Like wither'd leaves from treej
And thou shalt shortly see
Thy face and hair to grow.
All ploughed with fun-ows, overswoln with snow.
That which on Flora's breast.
All fresh and flourishing,
Aurora newly drest
Saw in her dawning spring ;
Quite d>"y and languishing,
Depriv'd of honour quite,
Day closing Hesperus beholds at night.
Fair is the lily ; fair
The rose ; of flow'rs the eye 1
Both wither in the air.
Their beauteous colours die j
And so at length shall lie,
Depriv'd of former grace.
The lillies of thy breasts, the roses of thy face.
V. 39. JiroanJ— Anhum.
will follow ; in the cheeke, ehih, nose.
Nor Hlly shall be found, nor rose ;
And what will thert become of all 45
Those, whom niDvv you servants call ?
Like swalloweSi when your summer's done
They'le fly, and seeke some warmer suti.
Then wisely chuse one to your friend.
Whose love may (when yout beauties fend) 50
Remaine still firm : be provident,
And thinke before the summer's spent
Of following winter ; like the dnt
In plenty hoord for time of scant.
Cull out amongst the multitude .Tr>
Of lovers, that seek to intrude
Into your favour, one that may
Love for an age, not for a day ;
One that will quench your youthfull fires.
And feed in age your hot desires. 60
V. 53 like the ant
In plenty hoord for tme of wnnf.]— Milton, Par, F/>^<y
h. vii. 485.
" The parsimonious emmet, provident
'< Of >/«?■/;."
8
For when the stormes of Time have mov'd
Waves on that cheeke which was belov'cl ;
When a faire ladle's face is pin'd.
And yellow spred, where red once shin'd ;
When beauty, youth, and all sweets leave her, 65
Love may returne, but lovers never :
And old folkes say there are no paines
Like itch of love in aged vaines.
Oh love me then, and now begin it.
Let us not loose this present minute : 70
For time and age will worke that wrack
Which time or age shall nere call back.
The snake each yeare fresh skin resumes.
And Eagles change their aged plumes }
The faded Rose each spring receives 75
A fresh red tincture on her leaves :
V. 73. The snake each yeare fresh skin resumes.'] — ^Thiis Milton
Tar. Lost, b. x. 218.
" Or as the saake with youthful coat repaid."
B. 7i>. The faded rose each spring receives
Afresh red tincture on her leaies] — Milton, Sonn 20. v G.
" Favonius reinspirc
" The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire
" The lily and rose.'"
But if your beauties once decay.
You never know a second May,
Oh then be wise, and whilst your season
Affords you dayes for sport, doe reason; 80
Spend not in vaine your lives short hourc.
But crop in time your beauties flower.
Which will away, and doth together
Both bud and fade, both blow and wither.
1^
LIPS AND EYES.
In Celia's face a question did arise,
Which were more beautiful!, hef Lips or Eyes:
We (said the Eyes) send forth those poynted
darts
Which pierce the hardest adamantine hearts.
From us (replyde theLips) proceed those bUsses, 5
Which lovers reape by kind words and sweet
kisses.
Then wept the Eyes, and from their springs did
powre
Of liquid orientall pearle a shower.
w. 7 aiidfiom their springs did powre
Of liquid orientall pearle a sJioJcer.} — This metaphor
i« very beautiful j as in Milton, Par. Lost, b. v. i.
•' Now morn, her rosy steps iu the eastern clime
" Advancing, sow"d the earth with orient pearl.'"
11
Whereat the Lips, mov'd with delight and
pleasure.
Through a sweet smile unlockt their pearlie
treasure;
And bad Love judge, whether did adde more
grace.
Weeping, or smiling pearles in Celia's face. 12
12
SONG.
MURDRING BEAUTY.
I'll gaze no more on her bewitching face.
Since ruine harbours there in every placet
For my enchanted soule alike she drowns
With calmes or tempests of her smiles and
firownes.
I'le love no more those cruel! eyes of her's, 5
Which, pleas'd or anger'd, still are murderers :
For if shee dart (like lightning) thro' the ayre
Her beames of wrath, she kils me with despaire :
If she behold mec with a pleasing eye,
I surfet with excesse of joy, and dye. 10
». 7 dart, like lightning, thro' the ayre.J — Miltou, Par.
Lost, b. vi. 64S.
" Light as the lightning glimpse they ran."
B. X. 184.
'• Saw Satan yb//, like lightning, down from Heaven.'"
Samson. Agon. 1284.
" Swiji as the lightning glance."
13
SECRECIE TROTESTED.
Feare not (deare Love) that Tie reveale
Those hoiires of pleasure we two steak ;
No eye shall see, nor yet the sun
Descrj', what thou and I have done ;
No eare shall heare our love ; but wee 5
Silent as the night will be;
The God of Love himselfe (whose dart
Did first wound mine, and then thy heart)
Shall never know, that we can tell.
What sweets in stolne embraces dwell : 10
This only meancs may find it out ;
If, when I dye, physicians doubt
What caus'd my death ; and, there to view
Of all their judgements which was true.
Rip up my heart : O then I feare 15
The world will see thy picture there.
I!. 6. Silent as the n»g'A^]— Milton has, Par, Lost, b. iv. 647,
" Silent night."
Srovne's Brit, Past. h. i. s. 4.
*' All hnsbt aud silent as the mid of night,''
u
A PRAYER TO THE WIND.
GoE thou gentle whispering wind,
Beare this sigh; and if thou find
V. 1. Goe thou gentle whispfering wind;]— Thus Milton",
Par. Reg. b. ir. 26.
*' Where mnds witii reeds and osiers voldsptrirrg play."
V Allegro, llG.
" By; whispering, winds soon lull'd asleep."
Ode on Christ's Nat. 64j &c.
" The winds, with wonder whist,
" SiAaothty the waters kist,
; ;" Whispering new joys to the luild ocean."
Consult also Mister Todd's Notes on the two former pas-
sages, in bis last edition of Milton.
Browne's iJr<V. Past. b. i. s. 4.
" A western, mild,, and pretty whispering, gale,
" Came ddttylng with the leaves along the dale."
«. 1 . Goe thou gentle whispering wind,
JJcare this sigh'; and'if tfiou\fiiid
Where my crueU /aire doth rest.
Cast it in her snowie breast.'} — Pope seems to have iiad
ihis passage in view when he wrote
" Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs away !
•* To Delia's «ar the tender notes conveyf"
Autumn, Past. 3.
m
Where my cruell faire doth rest,
Cast it in her snowie brest ; ■''od
So, enflam'd' by iiay desire, rUl
It may set her heanfc afire :
Those sweet kisses thou shalt gaine
Will reward thee for thy paine.
Boldly light upon her lip.
There suck odours, and thence skip- IOj
Toherbosome; lastly^ falb
Downe, and wander; overall;:
Range about those ivorie hills
From whose every part distils
Amber-dew 3 there spices grow, 15
There pure streams of Nectar flow;
There perfume thyselfe and bring
All those sweets upon thy wing :
As thou return'st, change by thy power
Every weed into a flower ; 20
Turjpe each thistle to a vine.
Make the bramble eglantine ;
V. 4. Cast it in her snouie brea.it.'] —Thus Spenser, F. Q. b.
iv. c. 11. St. 51.
•' And Psamathe, for her broad moiey breasts.'^
16
For so rich a bootie made^
Doe but this, and I am paid.
Thou canst with thy powerfull blast 25
Heat apace, and coole as fast :
Thou canst kindle hidden flame.
And agen destroy the same :
Then, for pitty, either stir
Up the fire of love in her, 30,
That alike both flames may shine.
Or else quite extinguish mine.
17
SONG.
MEDIOCRITY IN LOVE REJECTED.
Give me more love^ or more disdaine,
The torrid, or rtie frozen zone
Bring equall ease unto my paine^
The temperate affords me none :
Either extreame, of love, or hate, 5
Is sweeter than a calmc estate.
Give me a storme ; if it be love.
Like Dauae in that golden showre ,'t\<,. I
I swimmc in pleasure; if it prove
Disdaine, that torrent will devourc iO
My vulture-hopes; and he's possest
Of Heaven, that's but from Hell releast :
Then crowne my joyes, or cure my paine ;
Give me more love, or more disdaine.
c
18
SONG.
GOOD COUNSEL TO A YOUNG MAID.
Gaze not on thy beauties pride>
Tender maid, in the false tide
That from lovers eyes doth slide.
Let thy faithful Chrystall show.
How thy colours come and goe :
Beautie takes a foyle from woe.
Love, that in those smooth streames lyes
Under pitties faire disguise.
Will thy melting heart surprize.
* 10
*
19
Then beware; for those that cure
Love's disease, themselves endure
For reward, a calenture. 15
Rather let the lover pine.
Than his pale cheeke should asslgne
A perpetuall blush lo thine.
V. 15. a calenture.y-'A distemper peculiar to sailors in hot
climates ; wherein they imagine the sea to be green fields,
and will throw themselves into it, — Johnson^s Diet.
13 2
20
TO MY MTSTRIS,
SITTING BY A RIVER's SIDE, AN EDDY.
Marke how yond eddy steales away
From the rude streame hito the bay ;
There lockt up safe, she doth divorce
Her waters from the channels course.
And scornes the Torrent, that did bring 5
Her headlong from her native spring.
Now doth she with her new love play.
Whilst hee runs murmuring away.
Mark how shee courts the bankes, whilst they
As amorously their armes display, 10
T' embrace and clip her silver waves :
See how shee strokes their sides, and craves
An entrance there, which they deny j
Whereat shee frownes, threatning to fly
Home to her streame, and 'gins to swim 15
Backward, but from the chanels brim
21
Smiling, returnes into the crceke.
With thousand dimples on her cheeke.
Be thou this eddy, and I'le make
My breast thy shore, where thou shalt take 20
Secure repose, and never dreame
Of the quite forsaken streahie :
Let him to the wide ocean haste.
There lose his colour, name, and taste j
Thou- shalt save all, and safe from him, 25
Within these armes for ever swim.
«. 18. With thousand Aimfles on ^cr cheeke.}— Browne, Brit.
Past. s. V. V. 135.
" And every river, with unusual pride
" And dimpled cheek.'"
Milton, Comus, lig.
" By dimpled brook and fountain brim."
Shenstone, Rural Elegance,
*' For dimpled brook and leafy grove."
Thomson, Spring, 173.
" softly shaking; on Ihedimpled pool
*' Prelusive drops."
425. " The d'tapled water."
Little's (Moore) Poems. Edit. 1805, p. 172.
" Floating within the dimpled stream."
22
SONG.*
CONaUEST BY FLIGHT.
Ladies, fly from Love's smooth tale,
Oathes steep'd in teares do oft prevaile;
Griefe is infectious, and the ayre
Enflam'd with sighes will blast the fayre :
Then stop your eares, when lovers cry, 5
Lest yourselfe weep, when no soft eye
Shall with a sorrowing teare repay
That pitty which you cast away.
Young men, fly, when beauty darts
Amorous glances at your hearts : 10
The fixt marke gives the shooter ayme.
And ladies lookes have power to mayme :
* The 2d stanza of this song is to be found in <* Festum
Voluptatisj or the Banquet of Pleasure," by S (amuel) P (eckc)
1639, A°.
Now *twixt their lips, now in their eyes,
Wrapt in a smile, or kisse Love lies j
Then fly betimes, for only they 15
Conquer love that run away,
24
' SONG.
TO MY INCONSTANT MISTRIS.
When thou, poor excommunicate
From all the joyes of love, shalt see
The full reward, and glorious fate,
Which my strong faith shall purchase me.
Then curse thine owne inconstancy. 5
A fayrer hand than thine, shall cure
That heart which thy false oathes did wound j
And to my soule, a soule more pure
Than thine shall by love's hand be bound.
And both with equall glory crown'd. 10
V
Then shalt thou weepe, entreat, complaine
To Love, as I did once to thee ;
When all thy teares shall be as vaine
As mine were then, for thou shalt bee
Damn'd for thy false Apostasie. 15
^5
A SONG.*
PERSWASIONS TO ENJOY.
If the quick spirits in your eye
Now languish, and anon must dye ;
If every sweet, and every grace
Must fly from that forsaken face ;
. Then (Celia) let us reape our joys, 5
y Ere time such goodly fruit destroyes.
r .
Or, if that golden fleece must grow
For ever, free from aged snow j
If those bright suns must know no shade^
Nor your fresh beauties ever fade ; 10
Then feare not (Celia) to bestow
What still being gather'd still must grow.
I Thus, either Time his sickle brings
In vaine, or else in vaine his wings.
* This mellifluous Song has been inserted in the elegant
specimens of Doctor Aikin . See his Essays on Song'Writingr,
I p. 247, cd. 1774, The Uaincd Doctor, liowt\er, was igno-
rant of t)tc author.
M
INGRATEFUL BEAUTY THREATNED.
Know, Celia, (since thou art so proud)
'Twas I that gave thee thy renowne :
Thou hadst, in the forgotten crowd
Of common beauties, liv'd unknownc.
Had not my verse exhal'd thy name, 5
And with it ympt the wings of Fame.
V. 6 ympt the wings of Faw€.]— This phrase is bor-
rowed from Falconry. To imp is to add a new piece to a
broken stump. See Spenser's Hymne of Heavenly Beautic,
V. 134.
" Thence gathering plumes of perfect speculation
" To vnpe the wings of thy high flying mynd."
Spenser, Faerie Queene, b. iv. c. 9. 4.
*' And, having r/wpt the head to it egayne."
Fletcher, Purp. Isl. c. ist, 24.
'* imping their flaggy wing
" With thy stoln plumes."
Milton, Sonnet 15.
" the false North displays
•' Her broken league to imp their serpent wings>'^
That killing power is none of thine,
I gave it to thy voyce and eyes :
Thy sweets, thy graces, all are mine;
Thou art my starre, shinst in my skies; 10
Then dart not from thy borrowed sphere
Lightning on him that fixt thee there.
Cleavland's Bebel Scqt, v. 29.
" Help, ye tart satirists, to imp my rage,
*' With all the scoi-pions that should whip this agCt"
Browne, Brit. Past. b. i. s. 2.
" a barren tree,
" Which when the gard'ner on it pains bestow «,
*' To graft an imp thereon, in time it grows."
b. ii. s. 2.
*• And when thy temple's well deserving bays
'* Might imp a pride in thee to reach thy praise."
Massinger, Renegado, act v. sc. 3.
" to hup
" New feathers to the broken nings of time."
Roman Actur, act v. sc. 2-
** Could I imp feathers to the wings of time."
The Great Buke qf Florence, acti. so. 1.
** Imp feathers to the broken u-ings of time.''
$8
>
Tempt me with such affrights no more.
Lest what I made, I uncreate:
Let fooles thy mystique formes adore, 1 5
rie know thee in thy mortall state.
Wise poets, that wrap't Truth in tales.
Knew her thernselves through all her veiles.
29
DISDAINE RETURNED.
Hee that loves a rosie cheeke.
Or a corall lip admires.
Or from star-like eyes doth seeke
Fuell to mantaine his fires ;
As old Time makes these decay, 5
So his flames must waste away. '
But a smooth, and stedfast mind.
Gentle thoughts and calme desires.
Hearts with equal! love combind.
Kindle never dying fires. 10
Where these are not, T despise
Lovely checks, or lips or eyes.
No tears, Celia, now shall win
My resolv'd heart to return ;
I have scarcht thy soule within, 15
And find nought, but pride, and scorne ;
tj. 3 star-like eyes.] — Milton, P. L. b vil. 446,
has " stairy eyes."
m
I have learn'd thy arts, and now
Can disdaine as much as thou. . ICT
Some power, in my revenge convey
That love to her, I cast away. 20
i cyui r,ia JtJiiiii
■,i ;/
31
SONG.
ETERNITY OF LOVE PROTESTED.
How ill doth he deserve a lover's name.
Whose pale weak flame
Cannot retaine
His heate, in spite of absence or disdaine ;
But doth at once, like paper set on fire, 5
Burne, and expire !
True love can never change his seat.
Nor did he ever love that could retreat.
That noble flame, which my brest keeps alive.
Shall still survive 10
When my soule's fled ;
Nor shall my love dye when my bodye's dead ;
That shall waite on me to the lower shade.
And never fade.
My very ashes in their urne 15
Shall like a hollow'd lamp, for ever burne.
32
GOOD COUNSELL TO A YOUNG MAID.
When you the Sunrbumt Pilgrim see.
Fainting with thirst, hast to the springs ;
Marke how at first with bended knee
He courts the crystal Nymphs, and flings
His body to the earth, where he 5
Prostrate, adores the flowing Deitie,
But when his sweaty face is drencht
In her coole waves, when from her sweet
Bosome, his burning thirst is quencht ;
Then marke how with disdainfull feet 10
He kicks her banks, and from the place
That thus refresht him, moves with sullen pace.
So shalt thou be despis'd, faire Maid,
When by the sated Lover tasted ;
What first he did with teares invade, 1 5
Shall afterwards with scorne be wasted ;
When all the Virgin -springs grow dry.
When no streamcs shall be left, but in thine
eye.
S3
SONG.
TO ONJ?, WHO, WHEN I PRAIs'd MY MISTRIS
BEAUTY, SAID I WAS BLIND.
Wonder not though I am blind.
For you must be ;
Dark in your eyjes, or in your mind;
If, when you see
Her face, you prove not bhnd Uke me: 5
If the powerful beames that fly
From her eye.
And those amorous sweets that lye
Scatter'd in each neighbouring part.
Find a passage to your heart, 10
Then you'le confesse your mortal! sight
Too weake for such a glorious light:
For if her graces you discover.
You grow like riie a dazel'd Lover;
But if those beauties you not spy, 15
Then are you blinder farre then I.
34
SONG
TO MY MISTRIS, 1 BURNING IN LOVE,
I Bume, and cruell you, in vaine,
Hope to quench me with disdaine;
If from your eyes those sparkles came
That have kindled all this flame.
What boots it me, tho' now you shrowd 5
Those fierce comets in a cloud,
». 5. What boots it me ]— To boot; profit, advantage, as is
Shakspeare, Ant. ^ Cleop. act iv. sc. 1,
" Give bim no breath, but now
*' Make boot of his distraction.^
Milton, Sampson AgonisteSy 56o.
" What boots it at one gate to make defence,
" And at another to let in the foe."
Milton, Lycidas, 64.
*'■ Alas ! what boots it with incessant care
** To tend the homely, slighted, shepherd's trade."
Browne, Btit. Past b. i. s. I.
" what boot
" Is it to me to pluck up by the root
•♦ My former love, and in his place to eoir ,
** As ill a seed."
S5
Since all the flames that I have felt.
Could your snow yet never melt ?
Nor can your snow (tho' you should take
Alpes into youf bosome) slake lO
The heate of my enamour 'd heart;
But with wonder learne Love's art.
No seas of yce can cool desire;
Equall flames must quench Love's fire:
Then thinke not that my heart can die, 15
Till you bume as wel as L
o s
36
i\-J\ 'iVfiH I 1:
SONG
TO HER AGAINE, SHE BURNIN<G.jipi Af^VERi
Now she burnes as well as 1,
Yet my heat , can neyer dycj
She burnes that never knew desire.
She that was yce, she that was fire. 4-
She, whose cold heart chaste thoughts did arme
So, as Loves could never warme
The frozen bosome where it dwelt;
She burnes, and all her beauties melt:
She burnes, and crycs. Loves fires are mild;
Feavers are Gods — he's a child. 10
Love, let her know the difference
'Twixt the heat of soule and sense;
Touch her with thy flames divine.
So shalt thou quench her fire and mine.
'37
A FLY THAT FLEW INTO MY MISTRIS
• HER EYE.*
When this fly liv'd, she us'd to play
In the sunshine all the day j ^
^"ill coming neere my Celia's sight.
She found a new and unknowne light.
So full of glory, as it made 3
The nooneday sun a gloomy shade ;
TTien this amorous fly became
My rivall, and did court my flame,
She did from hand to bosome skip.
And from her breath, her chceke, and lip, 10
Suck'd all the incense, and the spice.
And grew a bird of Paradise :
At last into her eye she flew.
There scorcht in flames, and drown'd in dew,
* Cleavlaud bus closely imitated this poem iiione with the
same title. Sec Poems, cd. 1659, p. l'i6.
38
Like Phaeton from the sun's spheare, 15
She fell, and with her dropt a teare ;
Of which a pcarle was straight conipos'd,
^yhcrein her ashes lye enclos'd,
Thus she receiv'd from Celia's eye,
Funerall flame, tomb obsequie. 20
39
«ONG.
CELIA SINGING.
You, that thinke Love can convey,
No other way
But through the eyes, into the heart
His fatall dart.
Close up those casements, and but heare S
This Syren sing.
And on the wing
Of her sweet voyce it shall appeare
That Love can enter at the eare :
Then unvaile your eyes, behold 10
The curious mould
^here that voyce dwels j and as we know.
When the cocks crow.
We freely may
Gaze on the day j 15
So may you, when the musique's done.
Awake and see the rising Sun.
m
BOLDNESSE IN LOVE.*
Mark how the bashful! morne in vaine
Courts the amorous Marigold
With sighing blasts and weeping raine ;
Yet she refuses to unfold :
But when the planet of the day 5
Approacheth with his powerful 1 ray^
* Compare with this little piece, the Sutiflower and the Ivy,
in Langhorne's Fables of Flora, wherein he seems to have
imitated it.
V. 5. But when the planet of the day, &c.] — The marigold is
said to open and shut its leaves with the Sun. Thus Browne's
Brit. Past. b. i. ». 5.
" The day is woxen olde,
" And gins to shut in with the marigold.^
Cleavland's Poeriis, 16S9, p. 27.
*' The marigold, whose courtiers face
" Echoes the Sun, and doth unlace
" Her at his rise, at his full stop
" Packs, and shuts up her gaudy shop."
41
. hen she spreads, then she receives
His warnjer beames into her virgin' l^ayes.
So shalt thou thrive in love, fond boyj
If thy teares and sighs discover 10
Thy griefe, thou never shall enjoy
The just reward of a bold lover:
But \vh(jn with moving accents thou"
Shalt constant faiih, and service vo\y.
Thy Celia shalt receive those charmes' IS
With open cares, and with unfolded armes.
SliuUspcare, Winter's Tale, act iv. sc. 3.
" The marir^olJ, ilmt goes to bed with the Sun,
" Aiii] with him rises weeping."
Pv'imv\ Sermon al Oxford, lamo, ir.88.
" No jiiarii^old servant of Ge\A, to open with the Sun^ and
shut with the dewe.' ,;>
I-ord Howard's Dc/cn,?a<iie, 1583, 4to.
" Tlie wurigolde dooth close and open with the Sunne.''''
Thomson's Summer,
" But ore, the lofty follower of the Sun,
" Fad when he sets, shuts up her yellow leaves
" Drooping all night ; and, when he warm returns,
" Points her eunroour'<] bosom to his ray/'
42
A PASTORALL DIALOGUE.*
S5HEPHERD, NIMPHSj CHORUS.
SHEPHERD.
This mossiebanke they prest. — Nim. That aged
oak
Did canopie the happy payre
All night from the dampe ayre.
Cho. Here let us sit, and sing the words they
spoke.
Till the day breaking their embraces broke, 5
SHEPHERD.
See, Love, the blushes of the mome appear;
* The conunencement of this dialogue is very cluself
imitated from Shakspeare^s Ronieo and Juliet, act iii. sc. 5.
t). 6. See, Love, the blushes nf ilieviorne appear -"^
Komeo look, Love, what envious streaks
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east :
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops ;
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
43
And now she hangs her pearly store
(Rob'd from the easterne shore)
r th' couslips bell and roses rare ;
Sweet, I must stay no longer here. 1©
NIMPH.
Those streakes of doubtfull light, usher not day.
But shew my Sunne must setj no Morne
Shall shine till thou returne:
The yellow Planets, and the gray
Dawne, shall attend thee on thy way. 15
f. 6. Seej lime, the blushes of t/ie mom appear f
And now she havt^s her jicarly state
fUoh'dJroiii the eiutteine shore)
1' t/i' couslips bell and roses rare.}— See Note ou the
Primrose.
«. 11. Those slreakes of doubtfull light, Ike]
Juliet. You light is not day-light, 1 know it, I :
It is some meteor that the sun exhnles,
To be to thee this night u toich-bearer.
And light thee on thy way to Mantua;
Therefore stay yet, thou needst not to be gone.
I'. 14. The yellow Planets, atid the gray
Dawne, shall attend thee on thy Jcay.l — The Rev. H. J.
Todd has already, in his exrclh.-nt edition of Milton, remarked
lU
SHEPHERD.
.nine eyes guild my patVies, they 'may forbear
Their uselesse shine.— Nim. My tearcs wili
•- quH^
Extinguish their faint light.
Sh^p. Those drops wiU make their beaqies more
cleare.
Loves flames will shine in every tcare. 20
' •' ' 1 1 ', "
CHOB.US.
They kist, and wept, and from their lips, and
eyes,
the similai-iK between these two lines ami Par, Lost, b. vii.
" the gray
" Dawn, £Uid the Pleiades before him danc'tl,
*' Shedding sweet influence."
See also Lycidas, v. 187.
" the still mom went out vtilli sandalsgroy."
Clearland's Poems, 1659, p. 155.
" As Vaz gray morvirsg dawn'd."
Dorset's Induction to the JUTirrbrfdr Iffaffulrales-
, . ^ ** The, niprroiogratf^'
In a mixt dew of briny sweet,
Their joyes and sorrowes meet ;
But she cryes. out.— J-NlM. Shepherd^ arise,
The Sun betray cs us else to spies.
SHEPHERD. _
'''■■■•■. ■■■^■"^
The winged houres fly fast whilst we embrace:,^
But when we want their helpe to meet,
They move witl;i leaden feet.
NiM. Then let us pjnion time, and chacc
The day for ever from thisj place. 30,
SHEPHERD.
Harke! — Nim. Ah me, stay '.-— Shep. Forever.
NiM. No, arise ;
We must begone. — Shep. My nest of spice.
Nim. My soule.— ^Shep. My Paradise.
Cho. Neither could sav farewell, but through
theic eves
Griefe interrupted speechwith tears supplies.
V. 26. T/ie tctngcd houres.] — Thus in G. Fletcher's ChrisCs
Victory y st. 22-
" Tlie swift-winged houis."
(. 28. They move tcith /earfcn/et'f.]— Milton. '^'' • ""
46
RED AND WHITE ROSES.*
Reade in these Roses the' sad story
Of my hard fate, and your own glory.
In the White you may discover
The palenesse of a fainting Lover j
In the Red, the flames still feeding 9
On my heart with fresh wounds bleeding.
The White will tell you how I languish
And the Red expresse my anguish:
The White my innocence displaying.
The Red my martyrdome betraying, 10
The frownes that on your brow resided.
Have those Roses thus divided ;
Oh ! let your smiles but clear the weather.
And then they both shall grow together.
* A learned friend has informed me that this is an lAtitatiott
of Bonefouius.
47
THE ENQUIRY.
Amongst the myrtles as I walkt.
Love and my sighes thus intertalkt:
Tell me (said I, in deep distresse,)
Where may I find my shepherdesse ?
Thou foole (said Love), knowst thou oot this, 5
In every thing that's good she is ?
In yonder tuHp, goe and seeke.
There maist find her lip, her cheeke.
* This piece, and the Primrose, hare been inserted in
Herrick's Hesperides, 1647 ; and an acute critic (Doctor
Drake) has contended for their being his property. But not
to argue on the internal evidence, it will only be necessary to
consider, that both bad been published as Carew's, seven years
previous. Hen-ick could not be ignorant of that circum*
stance, and therefore would have noticed it, had they beea
his own productions. He probably only borrowed tbcnt —
no unusnal occurrence in tliat a^^e.
48
In yon enammerd pansie by,
There thou shall have her curious eye. 10
In bloome of peach,, in rosie bud,
There wave the streamers of her blood.
In brightest lillies that there stands.
The emblems ojf her whiter hands. A
In yonder rising hill there smeJs ,■: ;u:k .'AjSII
Such sweets as in her bosome dwQJs. . . f* '* ,T
*Tis true (said I) : and thereupon
I went, to pluck them one by one.
To make of parts a ijnion ;
But on a suddaine ajl was gone. 2a
With that I stopt : said Love, fThescbe '
(Fond man) resemblances of thee :
Aildj''Mt'htse flcivvVes, "thy'jdyes ^hall diie.
Even ji(B the twinkling of an, eye;.
And all th)<'hopes of her shall wither, 25
Like these shpr(j.^MyegfS;,OiVS,»!R^'' together.
f. 9. fn tfonx-GtamweTd pansie by, &c.] — Thus Milion,
Lycida-iy v. 144.
49
THE PRIMROSE.
AsKE me why I send you here
This firstling of the infant yeare j
Aske me why I send to you
This Primrose all bepeari'd with dew ;
V. 2. T/iisJirstling nf the infant yeare.^ — The early birth and
short-liv'd bloom of the primrose is a favorite subject with
our elder poets.
Milton, Lycidas, 142.
*' Bring the rathe primrose that foi>sakcn dies.'*
Ode on the Death of a fair Infant, 2.
*' Soft silken primrose, fading timelessly.*'
Ode on May Mornings 4.
" and the pale primrose."
Sh!ikspeare, Winter's Tale, act ir. sc. 5.
" pale primroses
■'* That die unmarried."
Cymheline, act iv. sc. 3.
** The flower, that's like thy face, pale primrose."
0.4 Primrose all bepcai'l'd with dew.]— Fletcher,
Piscatory Eclogues. E. vii. v. 5.
" Her weeping eyes in pearled dew she steeps."
M
50
I strait will whisper in your eares, 5
The sweets of Love are vvasbt with teares r
Aske me why this flow'r doth show
So yellow^ green, and sickly too ',
Milton, Par. Lost, b. v. 746.
" dew drops, which the sun
" Impearls on every leaf and every fiavcer!*
Spenser, Faer. Q. b. iv. c, 5, 45.
" With pearly dew sprinkling the morning grossed"
Sylvester's Du Bartas, p. 70, ed. 162 1.
" the flowry mead$
** ImpearPd with tears."
Drayton, Sonnet 53. Poems, 12mo. (circ l630).
" the daintie dew impearled Qoviets,'^
Browne, Brit. Past. b. i. s. 2.
** Next morn with pearls of dew bed^xsks our plains,"
G. Fletcher's Triumph on Earth, st. 42.
" theround sparks of dew,
** That hung upon their azure leaves, did show
*' Like twinkling stars."
Mason too has " each dewy-spangled Jawret.^
Elfrida in Poems, ed. 1770, p. 78.
Pope's Autumn, Past. 3.
" fallinj; dews with spangles deck'd the glade."
51
Aske me why the stalk is weak.
And bending, yet it doth not break ; 10
I must tell you, these discover
What doubts and fears are in a Lover,
X «
52
THE PROTESTATION.
A SONNET.
No more shall meads be deckt with flowers,
Nor sweetnesse dwell in rosie bowers;
V. 1 meads be deckt wit h ^oJcer*.]— So Daniel,
Ode to Delia.
" the earth, oiir common mother,
'* Hath her bosom deck'd with fiow''rs7'
Spenser, Prothalamion.
'' Aud all the meades adornd with daintie gemmes."
Ruins of Time,
*' dtckt with daintie ^ouTCJ.*'
Sylvester's Bethuluyi^s Rescue, in Poeiiis, l6/4, l6mo. p. lig.
" lu May, the tneads are not so pt/'d with Jaw ers,'' &c.
Milton, VAllegro, 75.
" Meadows trim with daisies pied.'"
Mason's Elfrida, Poems, ed. 1779, p. 75.
" the /Uiw^ bciprinkkd loxcn"
Little's (IMoore) Poems, ed. ist5, p. 96.
*' Yihacftowrtts dtck the greca earth's breast."
53
Nor greenest biids on branches spring.
Nor warbling birds delight to sing ;
Nor Aprill violets paint the grove; 5
If I forsake my Celia's love.
The fish shall in the ocean burne,
And fountaines sweet shall bitter turne ;
The humble oake no flood shall know.
When floods shall highest hils oreflow; 10
Black Laethe shall oblivion leave;
If ere my Celia I deceive.
V. 4. Nor warbling birds delight to sing.^ — Pope, Autunm,
Past. 3.
" The birds shall cease to tune their evenivg song,
*' The winds to breathe, the waving woods to nnove,
" And streams to murmur, ere I cease to love."
r. 5. ^or ^/>ri/^ violets paint /Ae^oce.]— Compare Milton,
Par. Lost, b. iv. 700.
" Under foot the violet,
** Crocus, and hyacinth, with rich inlay,
*• Broider'd the ground."
Comus, 233.
" And in the violet-embrmderd vale.''
V. 11. Black 'Lxthe shall oblivion leaie.}^ Lethe, well known
as the river of oblirioa ia the Heuthea Mythology, has
54
Love shall his bow and shaft lay by.
And Venus Doves want wings to fly j
The Sun refuse to shew his light, IS
And day shall then be tum'd to night,
And in that night no starre appear ;
If once I leave my Celia deare.
Love shall no more inhabit earth.
Nor Lovers more shall love for worth j 20
Nor joy above in heaven dwell.
Nor paine torment poore soules in hell ;
Grim death no more shall horrid prove ;
If ere I leave bright Celia' s love. *
been beautifully described by Milton, Par. LosU b. it.
583-
" a slow and silent stream
*' Lethe, the rirer of oblivion, rolls
*' Her watry labyrinth, whereof who drinks
** Forthwith his former state and being forgets,
** Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain."
* Thei*e is a great similarity between this ** Sonnet'* and a
Poem by E. S. in The I'aradise of dayntie Devises, 1576, p. 46.
That part which more immediately relates to the subject, I
extract.
55
** The grasc me thinkes should g:rowe in skit:
" The starrcs unto the yearth cleave faste :
" The water streame should passe awrie,
" The winds should leve their stregt of blast.
" The Sonne and Moone, by one assent,
" Should both forsake the firmament.
" The fishe in ayer should flie with finue,
** The foules in floud should bryng forth fry,
" All thyngs me thinks should erst beginne
" To take their course unnaturally :
" Afore my frende should alter so,
" Without a cause to bee my foe."
At p. 62, a Poem, by M . Edwaixls.
** Tlie fire shall freese, the frost shall frie, the frozen
mountains hie;
" What strange thiugcs shall dame Mature force to tunw
her course awrie.
" My ladie hath me left and taken a ncwe man."
56
THE DART.
Oft when I looke, I may descry
A little face peepe through that eye ;
Sure that's the Boy, which wisely chos/s
His throne among such beames as those.
Which if his quiver chance to fall.
May serve for darts to kill withall.
m
UPON A MOLE IN CELIA's BOSOME.
That lovely spot which thou dost see
In Celia's bosome, was a Bee,
Who built her amorous spicy nest
I' th' hyblas of her either breast ;
But, from close ivery hyves, she flew i
To suck the aromatick dew
Which from the neighbour vale distils.
Which parts those two twin sister hils ;
There feasting on arabrosiall meat,
A rowling file of balmy sweat 10
(As in soft murmurs, before death.
Swan-like she sung) chokt up her breath,
V.3 amorous spicy nest.] — See t\ie Pastoral Diaiogutf
T. 33.
*' My nest of spice."
r. lit As in sqfl murmtarSf before death
Swan-like she fung."]— Than Gorges' Sonnet in TodcTl
^fe qf Spenser, p. 89.
*' So BJDgs the swann, when life is taking flight."
58
So she in water did expire.
More precious than the Phoenix fire ;
Yet still her shaddow there remaines 15
Confind to those Elyzian plaines ;
With this strict law, that who shall lay
His bold lips on that milky way.
The sweet and smart, from thence shall bring
Of the Bees honey and her sting. 20
' Browne, Brit. Past', b. ii. s. 5.
" as a dying swan that sadly sings
" Her moaneful dirge unto the silver springs."
Poems to the Memory qf Ethn, Waller, Esq, l68S.
** Now, in soft notes, like dying swans, he'd sing."
P, Fletcher's Purple Island, c. i . st. 30.
" The dying swan, when years her temples pierce,
*' In music's strains hreathes out her life and rerse,
" And chanting her own dirge, tides on her wdtry herM.^'
G. Fletcher's Triumph over Death, st. 1.
** So down the silver streams of Eridan,
" On eitlier side bankt with a lily wall,
*' Whiter than both, rides the triumphant 5Wan,
" And sings his dirge, and prophecies his fall,
,';:: •* Diviijg into his watry faneral."
Spenser's Elegy on Sir Philip Sidney.
" The svsa that siogs about to die."
Bescrtpttbe.
^^ccijrtitje.
THE SPRING.
Now that the winter's gone, the earth hath lost
Her snow-white robes, and now no more the
frost
Candies the grass, or casts an icy cream
Upon the silver lake, or chrystal stream : 4
V. 1. Now that the winter's gotUf &c.] — Spenser's Shepherd's
Cal. March.
" pleasant Spring appeareth,
" The grasse now gins to be rcfresht :
" The swallow peeps out of her nest."
v,2 and now no more the frost
Candies the grass.]— This beautiful idea seems closely
imitated from Draytou. See his Quest qf Cynthia, iu poems,
4to. 1627, P- 137.
'* Since when those frostt that winter brings^
Which candy every greer^e-"
Compare also Browne's Brit. Past. b. i. s. 4.
" And hoaried yroff J had candied all the plaint."
62
But the warm Sun thaws the benummed earth.
And makes it tender, gives a sacred birth
To the dead swallow, wakes in hollow tree
The drowsy cuckow and the humble bee.
^ow do a quire of chirping minstrels bring
In triumph to the world, the youthful spring j 10
The vallies, hills, and woods, in rich array.
Welcome the coming of the long'd-for May.
«■ 11. TVie vallies, bills, andvrooda, in richartcu/,
Welcome the coming of the long'd-for May.] — Tbus
Chaucer, Knight'' s Tale, v. 1511.
" O Maye, with all thy flourcs and thy grenty
" Right tt'e/cowie be thou, faire frcshe May.'^
Milton, Ode on May Morning, 3.
** The ^owery May, who from her green lap throws
" The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose."
V. 5.
" Hail, bounteons May, that dost inspire
•* Mirth, and youth, and warm desire ;
" TVoods and groves are of thy dressings,
" Hill, and dale, doth boast thy blessing !"
Spenser, Faerie Queene, h.vM.CJ, 34. .
" Then came faire May, tlie fayrest Mayd on groam),
" Deckt all with dainties of her seasons pryde,
*' And throwing JlQwres out of her lap around."
63
Now all things siolle; only my Love doth low'r:
Nor hath the scalding noon-day-sun the pow'r
To melt that marble ice, which still doth hold 15
Her heart congeal'd, and makes her pity cold.
The ox, which lately did for shelter fly
Into the stall, doth now securely lie
In open fields : and love no more is made
By the fire-side ; but in the cooler shade 20
Amyntas now doth with his Chloris sleep
Under a sycamore, and all things keep
Time with the season ; only she doth carry
June in her eyes, in her heart January.
But more especially consult The Paradise of dayntle Deviser
Isted. 1576; of which collection the second poem is •' il/,
Edwardes May" and in the edit, of 1580, there is " A Replit
to M. Edwards May," by M. S. [Sackviile.]
Dolamt/'s Prmrose, by John Reynolds, 4to. 1606.
" When jffowring May had, with her morning deawcs.
" Watred the meadowes and the valliei greene,
*♦ The tender lambcs with nimble footed eawes,
" Came forth to meete the wanton Sommcrs queene.
•* The lively kidds came with the little fawncs,
** Tripping with speed ©vcp the pleasant lawnes," &cV
64
TO SAXHAM.
Though frost and snow lockt from mine eye*
That beauty which without dore lyes ;
The gardens, orchards, walkes, that so
I might not all thy pleasures know ;
Yet (Saxham) thou, within thy gate, ^
Art of thy selfe so delicate.
So full of native sweets, that bless
Thy roofe with inward happinesse;
As neither from, nor to thy store.
Wilder takes ought, or Spring adds more. 10
The cold and frozen ayre had sterv'd
Much poore, if not by thee preserv'd ;
Whose prayers have niade thy Table blest
With plenty, far above the rest.
The season hardly did afford 15
Coarse cates unto thy neighbour's board,
». 16. Coarse cates unto thy Tieighbour'f board.'} — Cates is here
vsed, in au enlarged sense, for food j but it generally implie*
65
Yet thou hadst daintieB, as the sky
Had only been thy volarie j
Or else the birds, fearing the snow.
Might to another deluge grow, 20
The Pheasant, Partridge, and the Larke,
Flew to thy house, &s to the Arko.
The wiljing Oxa of himself caine
Home to the slaughter, with the J^arnbCi
And every beast did thither briog 93
Himseife to be an offering,
The scalie herd more pleasjwr^ tool^p,
Bath'd ia thy dish, then m the brooke.
Water, Earth, Ayre, did all conspire
To pay their tributes to thy fire J 30
Whose cherishing flames ihefflBelves divide
Thro' every roome, where they deride
The night, and cold abroad ; whilst they
Like Suns within, keep endlesse day.
that kind ««ly of s luKuriou? iiatui«, as in I^Iiltoii, Par.
Reg. h. ii- 348.
** AIm! liOMT siiuplc, to tlve«c p^es .conip^''i!,
** Was that crude apple that ilivcrted Evp."
66
Those chcarfull beames send forth their hght, 35
To all that wander in the night.
And seeme to beckon from aloofe
The weary Pilgrim to thy roofe ;
Where, if refresht, he will away.
He's fairly welcome ; or, if stay, 40
Farre more, which he shall hearty find.
Both from the Master and the Hinde.
The stranger's welcome each man there
Stamp'd on his chcarfull brow doth weare ;
Nor doth this welcome, or his cheere, 45
Grow less, 'cause he stayes longer here.
There's none observes (much less repines)
How often this man sups or dines.
Thou hast no porter at the doore
T' examine or keepe back the poore ; 50
». 49 and the Hinde.] — Hind formerly was
the term for a servant, as in Sbakspeare's Merry Wives qf
Windsor, act iii- sc. 5, " A couple of Ford's knaves, his
hinds, were called forth by their mistress, to carry me in the
name of foul clothes to Datchet-lane." — It is derived from
the Saxon hine, famulus, sercus. Douglas' Virgii. Hynis,
hinds, servants^ &c.
67
Nor locks nor bolts; thy gates have beene
Made only to let strangers in ;
Untaught to shut, thej do not feare
To stand wide open all the yeare ;
Carelesse who enters, for they know 55
Thou never didst deserve a foe ;
And as for theeves, thy bountie's such.
They cannot steale^ thou giv'st so much.
F 2
6&
TO MY FRIEND G. N. FROM WREST
I BREATHE (swect Ghib) the temperate ayre of
Wrest,
Where I lio more with raging stormes opprestj
Weare the cold nights out by the banke of
Tweed,
On the bleake mountains where fierce tempests
breed.
And everlasting Winter dwels; where milde 5
Favonius, and the Vernall winds, exil'd.
Did never spread their wings; but the wild
North
Brings sterill Fearne, Thistles, and Brambles
forth.
Here, steep'd in balmy dew, the pregnant earth
Sends from her teeming wombe a flowrie birth ;
And cherisht with the warme Suns quickning
hcate, 1 1
Her porous bosome doth rich odours sweat;
69
Whose perfumes through the ambient ayre diffuse
Such native aromatiques, as we use
No forraigne gums, nor essence fetcht from
farre, 1 5
No volatile spirits, nor compounds that are
Adulterate ; but, at Natures cheape expence.
With farre more genuine sweets refresh the
sense.
Such pure and uncompounded beauties, bless
This mansion with an usefuil comclinesse 20
Devoid of art ; for here the architect
Did not with curious skill a pile erect
Of carved marble, touch, or porphyry.
But built a house for hospitality. 24
No sumptuous chinmey-peece of shining stone
Invites the strangers eye to gaze upon,
And coldly entertaines his sight ; but clcare
And checrfull flames, cherish and warmc him
here.
*• 15 ainbient at/re-'\ — ^Thus Milton, Par. Lost,
h. vij. 89.
*' the ambient ah w idc i atcrfus^d
" Embracing rouud thisilurid caith."
7#
No Dorique, nor Corinthian pillars grace
"With Imagery this structures naked face : 30
The Lord and Lady of this place delight
Rather to be in act, than seeme, in sight.
Instead of Statues to adorne their Wall,
They throng with living men their merry hall.
Where, at large tables fill'd with wholsome
meats, -^Pfus 35
The servant, tenant, and kind neighbour eats :
Some of that ranke, spun of a finer thread,
Are with the women, steward, and chaplaine
fed
With daintier cates ; others of better note.
Whom wealth, parts, office, or the heralds coat
Have sever'd from the common, freely sit 40
At the Lords table, whose spread sides admit
A large acresse of friends to fill those seats
Of his capacious sickle, fill'd with meats
t.44 Jiirdwilh meats
Of choycest relish, till his oaken back
Under the load o,/" pil'd-up dishes crack.'] — Compare
]Miltou, Par. Reg. b. ii. 341.
" With dishes pil'dy aud meats of nMest sort
" And savour.^'
71
Of choycest relish, till his oaken back 45
Under the load of pil'd-up dishes crack.
Nor think, because our piramids, and high
Exalted turrets threaten not the sky.
That therefore Wrest of narrownesse complaines.
Or streightned walls; for she more numerous
trains 50
Of noble guests daily receives, and those
Can with farre more conveniencie dispose.
Than prouder piles, where the vaine -builder
spent
More cost in outward gay embellishment
Than reall use ; which was the sole designc 55
Of our contriver, who made things not fine.
But fit for service. Amallhea's home
Of plenty is not in effigic worne
V. 57 Amaltheashorne
Of plenty ] — Amalthea, in tli©
Heathen Mythology, is the daughter of Melissux, King of
Crcie, and nurse of Jupiter, from whom she received a goat's
horn, whicli had (he power of supplying her wishes, and
from thence called Cornucopia^ or horn of plenty (sec Orid).
Thus Milton, Par. Reg. ii. 356.
'* Fruits and flowers from Amalthea*8 hora."
72
Without the gate, but she within the (lore
Empties her free and unexhausted store J 60
Nor crown 'd with wheaten wreathe* doth Ceres
stand
In stone, with a crook'd sickle in her hand :
Nor on a marble tunnc, his face besmear'd
With grapes, is curl'd uncizard Bacchus rear'd.
Wc offer not in emblemes, to the eyes, 6J
But to the taste those useful deities :
We prcsse the juicie God, and quafFe his blood,
And grind the yellow Gocklesse into food.
Yet we decline not all the vrorke of Art ; 69
JBut where more bounteous Nature bears a part,
r. 6l. Ceres.] — Ceres, in the Heathen Mythology, is tb«t^
Gotldcsa of corn and harvests.
f. 64 atrrd uncizard Bacchus'] — Vncixard, pro»
hably, is the old orthography for unschsar'ti, and rlerived from
the Latin, inc'uloy to cut oft". The same word is to he found
tit his Elegy on Br. Donne, v. 5.
" Such as th' uncieard lectrtr ft'om the Sovi^tr
" Of fading rhetorick."
t'. Gs theyellow Goddesse.^ — Cevea has geucral(.j
the epithet of yeiUtw, in allusioa to ripe CQrn.
73
And guides her handmaid, if she but dispence
Fit matter, she with car^ and diligence
Employes her skill j for where the neighbour
sourse
Powers forth her waters, she directs her course^
And entertaines the flowing streames in deepe 75
And spacious channels, where they slowly creepa
In snaky windings, as the shelving ground
Leads them in circles, till they twice surround
This island Mansion, which, i* th' centre plac'd.
Is with a double Crystal heaven embrac'dj 60
In which our watery constellations floate.
Our fishes, swans, our waterman and boat,
». 74 she directs her course.
And entertaines thejloiciug streames in decpe
And spacious channels, ivkerc they slowli/ creepe
In tnaki/ vcindimis, as the shelving ground
Lends them in circles, till they tuice surrmnd
This island Mansion ...]— P. rietchcr"*
Purple Island, c. ii. st. 9.
..• " for tbnnsand brooks
*' In uure channels glide on silver sand
" Their serpent windings, and deceiving crook*
** Circling afumty vaA watering all the plain."
74
Envy'd by those above, which wish to slake
Their starre-burnt limbs in our refreshing lake ;
But they stick fast, nayled to the barren sphcare.
Whilst our encrease in fertile waters here 86
Disport, and wander freely where they please
Within the circuit of our narrow seas.
With various trees we fringe the water's brinke.
Whose thirsty roots the soaking moysture drinke.
And whose extended boughes in equal rankes 91
Yield fruit, and shade, and beauty to the banks.
On this side young Vertumnus sits, and courts
His ruddy-cheek'd Pomona ; Zephyre sports
». 93. On this side young ycrlamaus, &c]— Vertumnus was
the God of tradesmen, and had the power of taking any
shape. His courtship of Pomona forms one of Ovid's Hfet.
In the disguise of an old woman, he visited her gardens, and,
after artfully praising the fruit, insinuated the pleasure of a
married life. Pomona heard hira with indifference, having
already refused Pan, Priapus, and Silenus ; but when Ver-
tumuuB assumed the appearance of youth, the Goddess could
no longer i-esist the beauties of his person. — Zephyr, the son
of Aurora, is represented as presiding over fruits and flowers,
and married Flora, the Goddess of flowers; thus alluded to
by Milton, Par, Lost, h.r. 16.
" Mild as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,"
Lycidas, 19.
** Zephyr with Aurora playing."
73
On th' other, with lov'd Flora, yeelding there 95
Sweets for the smell, sweets for the palate here.
But did you taste the high and mighty drinke
Which from that fountaine flows, yould thinke
The God of wine did his plumpe clusters bring.
And crush the Faleme grape into our spring;
Or else, disguis'd in watery robes did swim 101
To Ceres bed, and make her big of him.
Begetting so himselfe on her : for know
Our vintage here in March doth nothing owe
To theirs in Autumne ; but our fire boyles here
As lusty liquor as the sun makes there. 106
Thus I enjoy myselfe, and taste the fruit
Of this blest place ; whilst, toyl'd in the pursuit
Of bucks and stags, th' embleme of warre you
strive
To keepe the memory of our armes alive. IIQ.
Clesiac,
oJIfjiac.
EPITAPH ON THE LADY MARY VILLERS.*
The Lady Mary Villers lies
Under this stone : with weeping eyes
TTie parents that first gave her birth
And their sad friends, lay'd her in earth.
If any of them (Reader) were 5
Knowne unto thee, shed a teare, ■
Or if thyselfc possesse a gemrae.
As dearc to thee as this to them j
Though a stranger to this place,
Bewayle in theirs, thine own hard case ; 10
For thou perhaps at thy returne
Maycst find thy darling in an ume.
* In his epitaph on Lady Mary VtUers^ be is eminently
pathetic. — Anderson.
80
ANOTHER,
*Fhis^ little vault, this narrow roome, • ^.TlS^i
Of Love and Beauty is the tombe ;
The dawning beame, that gan to cleare
Our clouded sky, lyes darkened here.
For ever set to us by death: ' •''^'•'''' ^'"' 5
Sent to inflame the world beneath ; ^^o^i'^ ^^'"^
^Twas but ai b\id, yet did contains
^ore sweetnesse thai! shall spring againej
A budding Stafre, that might have growric *'
Into a Sun, when it had blowne : ' - ("^ ^' t6
This hopeful] Beauty did create "^ ''^^^^' ''^
New life in Love's declining state 3 ' "
But now his empire ends, and ^*e " ''*
From fire and wounding darts are frefe;'^*' ' ' '
His briind, his bow, let no man feare; 15
The flames, the arrovi'cs, all lye here.
epistolatp.
^(:':r;*';'r-"Tr ''''■■
4Sjii,$toIatp»
UPON MASTER W. MOUNTAGUE HIS
RETURNE FROM TRAY ELL.
Leade the black bull to slaughter, with the bore
And lambe, then purple with their nungled gore
The oceans curled brow, that so we may
The Sea- Gods for their careful wastage pay :
Send grateful Incense up in pious smoake 5
To those mild Spirits that cast a curbing yoake
Upon the stubbornc winds, that calmely blew
To the wisht shore our long'd-for Mountague.
Then, whilst the Aromatique odours bume
In honour of their Darlings safe returne, 10
V. 3. The oceans curled 6r«c.]— So Browne's Brit. Past. b. i,
8. 5.
" curled stream.^'
G 2
84
The Muse's quire shall thus with voyce and hand
Bless the faire gale that drove his ship to land.
Sweetly-breathing vemall Ayre,
That with kind warmth doest repayre
Winter's ruines; from whose breast 15
All the gums and spice of th' East
Borrow their perfumes ; whose eye
Guilds the morn, and cleares the sky ;
Whose dishevel'd tresses shed
Lfoii Pearles upon the violet bed ; 20
oioy tfji <
V 13. Sweetly -breathing vemall Ayre,
That with kind warmthy &c.] — Compare Milton, Par,
Lost, b. iv. 156.
i.. ......'. " Now gentle gales,
" Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense
" Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole
"Those balmy spoils."
.'^;..'i..u...... I. 264.
" airs, vernal airs,
" Breathing the smell of field and grove."
v.. 18. Gnildi the mom.} — ^Thus Pope's il/cswa/;, v. 99.
" No more the rising Sun shall gild the wjor«."
V. 20. Pearles upon the violet W.]— See Note on " The
Primrose,''*
85
On whose brow, with cahne smiles tlrest,
The Halcion sits and builds her nest;
Beauty, Youth, and endlesse Spring,
Dwell upon thy rosie wing.
Thou, if stormy Boreas throwes 25
Dounc whole Forrcsts when he blowes,
V. 21. On whose brow, with calme smiles drest,
T/ie Halcion sits and builds her nest."] — So in Browne's
Brit, Past. b. ii. s. I.
'* As smooth as when the Halcyon builds her nest."
The best account of this popular belief respecting the
King Fisher, that I have ever redde in any old work, I here
extract from Mclanchtoh's Dedicator;/ Epistle to the Duke of
Savoy, prefixed to Joyc's Exposicion qf' Daniel the Prophetc, ist
edit. Geneve, 1545.
" For thci sayc that in the most sharpe and coldest tymc
of the yere, these haicions making their nestis in the sea
rockis or sandis, will sittc their egges and hatche forth their
chikens. And therfore the same sea that harbourcth these
fowles thus sitting vpon their eggcs, wil be so cawmc and
still to her geistis for 14 daycs, that men may scworly sayl
without perel vpon her, not shaken nor molested with any
storme or tempeste, nor yet the nestis of theis birdcs so
nighe the water not once shaken nor hurt with any sourges.
For the seas wil not for that tyme of these birdis sitting and
hatching, decease her geistis. And therfore is this tran-
quilitc of the sea for that litle tyme as a trwce taking in the
winter, called the haicions dayes "
86
With a pregnant flowery birth
Canst refresh the teeming earth :
If he nip the early bud, . . .
If he blast what's fayre or good, 30
If hee scatter our choyce flowers.
If he shake our hils or bowers.
If his rude breath threaten us ;
Thou canst stroake great ^olus.
And from him the grace obtaine 35
To bind him in an iron chaine.
Thus, whilst you deale your body 'mongst your
friends.
And fill their circling armes, my glad soule sends
This her embrace : thus wee of Delphos greet;
As lay-men clasp their hands, we joyne our
' feet. 40
e. 34 stroake great JEolus.] — Stroake, to sootli,
as in Bacon's Henry Tth; Works, ed. 1765, vol. iii. p, 85,
•* There he set forth a new proclamation, stroking the people
with fair promises."
87
TO MY WORTHY FRIEND,
MASTER GEORGE SANDS,*
ON HIS TRANSLATION OF THE PSALMS.
>
I PRESSE not to the quire, nor dare 1 greet
The holy place with my unhallowed feet ;
My unvvasht Muse polutes not things divine.
Nor mingles her prophaner notes with thine :
Here, humbly at the porch she stayes, 5
And with glad eares sucks in thy sacred layes.
* George Sandys whs born at Bishop's Thorp in 1577, the
son of F.dwin, Archbishop of York. He entered himself at
Mary Hall, Oxon, 1589, but received tuition at Corpus
Christi College, Cambridge. In 16 10 he began his travels
in the East, of which an account was published in j6lO,
Bo much esteemed, that it passed through a number of
editions. On his return, he was appointed Gentleman of the
Privy Chaml>er to Charles I. and died in l643.
He translated the Psalms of David, 1636, 12mo. ; Grotius'
Christ's Passion, ]640; Job, Ecclcsiustrs, and Lamentations,
1638, folio, and 1676, 8vo. ; Solomon's Song, 1G41, 4to. ;
and Ovid's Metamorphoses, with 1st book of Virgil's ^ncidj
Dryden esteemed him the most harmonious writer of the age.
88
So, devout penitents of old were wont_,
Some without doore, and some beneath the font.
To stand and heare the churches liturgies.
Yet not assist the solemne exercise : 10
Sufficeth her, that she a lay-place gaine.
To trim thy vestments, or but beare thy traine;
Though nor in tune, nor wing, she reach thy
: V larke, / ■,:* ^p,^,mrt', I
Her lyrick-feet may dance before the Arke,
Who knowes, but that her wandring eyes that
run, 1 5
Now hunting glow-wormes, may adore the Sun :
A pure flame may, shot by Almighty power
Into her brest, the earthy flame devoure :
My eyes in penitentiall dew may steepe
That brine, which they for sensuall love did
weepe. , 20
So (though 'gainst Natures course) fire may be
quencht
With fire, and water be with water drencht ;
Perhaps my restlesse soule, tyr'de with pursuit
Of mortall beauty, seeking without fruit 24
89
Contentment there, which hath not, when
enjoy 'd,
Quencht all her thirst, nor satisfi'd, though
cloy'd ;
Weary of her vaine search below, above
In the first Faire may find th' immortal love.
Prompted by thy example then, no more
. In moulds of clay will I my God adore ; 30
But teare those idols from my heart, and write
What his blest Spirit, not fond Love, shall indite j
Then I no more shall court the verdant Bay,
But the dry leavelesse trunke on Golgotha;
And rather strive to gaine from thence one
thorne, 35
Than all the flourishing wreathes by Laureatsi
worne.
90
TO MY LORP ADMIRALL *, ON HIS
LATE SICKNESSE AND RECOVERY.
With joy like ours, the Thracian youth Invades
Orpheus, returning from th' Elysian shades.
Embrace the heroe, and his stay implore.
Make it their publike suit he would no more
Desert them so, and for his spouses sake, 5
His vanish 'd love, tempt the Lethaean lake :
The ladies too, the brightest of that time.
Ambitious all his lofty bed to climbe.
Their doubtfull hopes with expectation feed.
Which shall the fair Euridice succeed ; 10
Euridice, for whom his numerous moan
Makes listning trees and savage mountaines
groane
* George Villicrs, DuIjc of Buckingham, the unfortunate
favorite of Charles I. who fell by the hands of Felton. It is
sometimes unfortunate to be the favorite even of a King.
91
Through all the ayre, his sounding strings dilate
Sorrow like that which touch'd our hearts of
late;
Your pining sicknesse, and your restlesse pain,
At once the land affecting, and the mayne. 16
When the glad newes, that you were Admirall,
Scarce through the nation spread, 'twas fear'd
by all
That our great Charles, whose wlsdome shines
in you.
Should be perplexed how to oh use anew : 20
V. 1 1. Euridice, far wJtom his numerowt moan
Makes lutning trees and satage mountains groan
Through alt the a^re.]— Pope's Ode on St. Cecilia's Day,
V. 113.
" Yet ev'n ia death Eurydice he sung,
** Eurydice still trembled on his tongue,
" Eunjdice the woods,
" Eurydice the floods,
** Eurydice the rocks, and hollow mountaitu rung."
f, 19. Our great Charles.]— It is to be lamented that Carcw
■hould have so ill apjj'.ied his panegyric; but the poets of
bis time were too much inclined to flatter Princes at the
expence of truth. It is only when a Monarch is truly the
father of his People, that he deserrcs to be praised by Men of
9^
So more then private was the joy and grief,
That at the worst it gave our soules reliefe.
That in our age such sense of vertue liv'd.
They joy'd so justly, and so justly griev'd.
Genius ; a Tyrant should only have his virtues echoed by a
pensioned Laureat. Milton, the glorious boast of Britain
and her Sons, knew better the value of Liberty than to laud
the greatest subverter of it ; he
" could contemn
" Riches, though offer'd from the hand of Kings."
To some, this note may appear out of place ; but I could
not suffer an opportunity to escape of declaiing my abhor-
rence of the tyranny of Charles I. I cannot forget that I
am a Briton, a native of that
...'. "Isle,
** The greatest and the best of all the main."
And to the last hour of my existence I hope to exclaim,
" England ! with all thy faults, I love thee still—
" My country! and, while yet a nook is left,
" Where Knglish minds and manners may be found,
** Shall lie constrained to love thee. Though thy clime
" Be fickle, and thy year most part deformed
" With dripping rains, or withered by a frost,
*' I would not yet exchange thy sullen skies,
*' And fields without a flower, for warmer France
" With all her vines." Cowper.
93
Nature, her fairest light eclipsed/ seemes 25
Herselfe to suffer in these sad extreames ;
While not from thine alone ihy blood retires.
But from those cheeks which all the world
admires.
The stem thus threatned, and the sap, in thee
Droop all the branches of that noble tree; 30
Their beauties they, and we our love suspend.
Nought can our wishes save thy health intend ;
As lillies overcharg'd with rain, they bend
Their beauteous heads, and with high Heaven
contend,
V. 33. As lillies overcharg'd with rain, they bctid
Their beauteous heads.] — This Ijeautiful simile is to be
found in Hoiner, //. book viii. 1. 30(3. Thus in Pope's transl.
1. 371.
" As full-blown poppies overcharg'd with raia
" Decline the head, and drooping kiss the plain."
1
Compare also Fletcher, Purp. IsL can. xi. st. 38.
" So have I often seen a purple flower,
" Fainting thrangh heat, hang down her drooping head."
p. Fletcher's Eliza^ part ii. st. 6.
" like fainting flowers oppressed with rain."
94
Fold thee within their snowy arms, and cry 35
He is too faultlesse, and too young to die :
So, like immortals, round about thee they
Sit, that they fright approaching death away.
Who would not languish by so fair a train.
To be lamented and restor'd againe ? 40
Or thus withheld, what hasty soule would go.
Though to the blest ? Ore young Adonis so
Fair Venus raourn'd, and with the precious
showre
Of her warm tearse cherisht the springing flower.
Milton, Samp. Agon. 728.
" but now with head declin'd,
*' Like a fair flower surcharged with dew."
Di-yden, Avrengiebe.
" Your head declin'd,
** Droops, like a rose surcharg'd with morning dew."
Carew, however, is the first English poet in whom the
idea is to be found.
1'. 42 Ore young Adonis so
Fair Venus mourn'd.} — ^Tlius Spenser's Momning Mute
•f Tliesti/lis.
" Venus when she wuild
" Her deare Adonis slaine."
95
The next support, fair hope of your great name.
And second pillar of that noble frame, 46
By losse of thee would no advantage have.
But, step l^y step, pursues thee to thy grave.
And now relentlesse Fate, about to end 49
The line, which backward doth so farre extend
That antique stock, which still the world supplies
With bravest spirits, and with brightest eyes.
Kind Phoebus interposing, bade me say.
Such stormes no more shall shake that house ;
but they.
Like Neptune and his sea-borne Neece, shall be
The shining glories of the Land and Sea, 56
With courage guard, and beauty warm our age.
And lovers fill wiih like poetique rage*.
* This Epistle has be«n erroneously ascribed to Waller.
£vans, Printer, lirintol.
Ia^
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