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To graze the ranker mead ; that noble herd He straight revokes his bold resolve, and more
On whose sublime and shady fronts is rear’d Repents his courage than his fear before;
Nature's great masterpiece, to show how soon Finds that uncertain ways unsafest are,
Great things are made, but sooner are undone. And doubt a greater mischief than despair.
Here have I seen the * King, when great affairs Then to the stream, when neither friends, nor force,
Gave leave to slacken and unbend his cares, Nor speed, nor art, avail, he shapes his course;
Attended to the chase by all the flow'r

Thinks not their rage so desp’rate to essay
Of youth, whose hopes a nobler prey devour;

An element more merciless than they. Pleasure with praise and danger they would buy,

But fearless they pursue, nor can the flood And wish a foe that would not only fly.

Quench their dire thirst: alas! they thirst for The stag now conscious of his fatal growth,

blood. At once indulgent to his fear and sloth,

So t’wards a ship the oar-finn'd galleys ply, To some dark covert his retreat had made, Which wanting sea to ride, or wind to fly, Where nor man's eye, nor heaven's should invade Stands but to fall revenged on those that dare His soft repose ; when th' unexpected sound Tempt the last fury of extreme despair. Of dogs and men his wakeful ear does wound. So fares the stag; among th' enraged hounds Roused with the noise, he scarce believes his ear, Repels their force, and wounds returns for Willing to think th' illusions of his fear

wounds:
Had given this false alarm, but straight his view And as a hero, whom his baser foes
Confirms that more than all he fears is true. In troops surround, now these assails, now those,
Betrayd in all his strengths, the wood beset, Though prodigal of life, disdains to die
All instruments, all arts of ruin met,

By common hands; but if he can descry
He calls to mind his strength, and then his speed, Some nobler foe approach, to him he calls,
His winged heels, and then his armed head; And begs his fate, and then contented falls.
With these t'avoid, with that his fate to meet ; So when the king a mortal shaft lets fly
But fear prevails, and bids him trust his feet. From his unerring hand, then glad to die,
So fast he flies, that his reviewing eye

Proud of the wound, to it resigns his blood,
Has lost the chasers, and his ear the cry; And stains the crystal with a purple flood.
Exulting, till he finds their nobler sense

This a more innocent and happy chase Their disproportion'd speed doth recompense ; Than when of old, but in the self-same place, Then curses his conspiring feet, whose scent Fair Liberty pursued, and meant a prey Betrays that safety which their swiftness lent: To lawless power, here turn'd, and stood at bay; Then tries his friends ; among the baser herd,

When in that remedy all hope was placed Where he so lately was obey'd and fear'd, Which was, or should have been at least, the last. His safety seeks : the herd, unkindly wise, Here was that Charter seal'd wherein the crown Or chases him from thence or from him flies. All marks of arbitrary power lays down; Like a declining statesman, left forlorn

Tyrant and slave, those names of hate and fear, To his friends' pity, and pursuers' scorn,

The happier style of king and subject bear: With shame remembers, while himself was one Happy when both to the same centre move, Of the same herd, himself the same had done. When kings give liberty and subjects love. Thence to the coverts and the conscious groves, Therefore not long in force this Charter stood; The scenes of his past triumphs and his loves, Wanting that seal, it must be seal'd in blood. Sadly surveying where he ranged alone,

The subjects arm’d, the more their princes gave, Prince of the soil, and all the herd his own, Th’ advantage only took the more to crave; And like a bold knight-errant did proclaim Till kings, by giving, give themselves away, Combat to all, and bore away the dame,

And ev’n that power that should deny betray. And taught the woods to echo to the stream “ Who gives constrain'd, but his own fear reviles, His dreadful challenge, and his clashing beam; Not thank’d, but scorn'd; nor are they gifts, but Yet faintly now declines the fatal strife,

spoils." So much his love was dearer than his life. Thus kings, by grasping more than they could Now ev'ry leaf, and ev'ry moving breath

hold, Presents a foe, and ev'ry foe a death.

First made their subjects by oppression bold; Wearied, forsaken, and pursued, at last

And popular sway, by forcing kings to give All safety in despair of safety placed,

More than was fit for subjects to receive, Courage he thence resumes, resolved to bear Ran to the same extremes; and one excess All their assaults, since 'tis in vain to fear. Made both, by striving to be greater, less. And now, too late, he wishes for the fight

When a calm river, raised with sudden rains, That strength he wasted in ignoble flight;

Or snows dissolved, o'erflows th' adjoining plains, But when he sees the eager chase renew'd,

The husbandmen with high-raised banks secure Himself by dogs, the dogs by men pursued,

Their greedy hopes, and this he can endure;

But if with bays and dams they strive to force {* Originally, our Charles.)

His channel to a new or narrow course,

No longer then within his banks he dwells,
First to a torrent, then a deluge, swells;
Stronger and fiercer by restraint, he roars,
And knows no bound, but makes his pow'r his

shores*.

ON THE EARL OF STRAFFORD'S TRIAL

AND DEATH.

Great Strafford ! worthy of that name, though all
Of thee could be forgotten but thy fall,
Crush'd by imaginary treason's weight,
Which too much merit did accumulate.
As chemists gold from brass by fire would draw,
Pretexts are into treason forged by law.
His wisdom such, at once it did appear
Three kingdoms'wonder,and three kingdoms' fear,

(* This poem by Denham, though it may have been exceeded by later attempts in description, yet deserves the highest applause, as it far surpasses all that went before it. The concluding part, though a little too much crowded, is very masterly.-GOLDSMITH.]

Whilst single he stood forth, and seem'd, although
Each had an army, as an equal foe;
Such was his force of eloquence, to make
The hearers more concern'd than he that spake,
Each seem'd to act that part he came to see,
And none was more a looker-on than he.
So did he move our passions, some were known
To wish, for the defence, the crime their own.
Now private pity strove with public hate,
Reason with rage, and eloquence with fate.
Now they could him, if he could them, forgive;
He's not too guilty, but too wise, to live:
Less seem those facts which treason's nickname

bore
Than such a fear'd ability for more.
They after death their fears of him express,
His innocence and their own guilt confess.
Their legislative frenzy they repent,
Enacting it should make no precedent.
This fate he could have’scaped, but would not lose
Honour for life, but rather nobly chose
Death from their fears than safety from his own,
That his last action all the rest might crown.

JOHN BULTEEL.

(Died, 1669.)

MR. Ritson, in his Collection of English Songs, Mr. Park makes a query whether he was not the supposes John Bulteel to have been secretary to gentleman mentioned by Wood (Fasti) as having the Earl of Clarendon, and to have died in 1669. translated from French into English “A General He was the collector of a small miscellany, pub- | Chronological History of France, before the reign lished about the middle of the seventeenth century. of Pharamond.”

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GEORGE WITHER.

(Born, 1388. Died, 1667.]

George Wither, the descendant of a family who, him, with red ochre upon a trencher. It is genehad for several generations possessed the property rally allowed that his taste and genius for poetry of Manydowne, in Hampshire, was born in that did not improve in the political contest. Some county, at Bentworth, near Alton. About the of his earliest pieces display the native amenity age of sixteen he was sent to Oxford, where he of a poet's imagination ; but, as he mixed with had just begun to fall in love with the mysteries the turbulent times, his fancy grew muddy with of logic, when he was called home by his father, the stream. While Milton in the same cause much to his mortification, to hold the plough. He brought his learning and zeal as a partisan, he was even afraid of being put to some mechanical left the Muse behind him, as a mistress too sacred trade, when he contrived to get to London, and to be introduced into party brawlings ; Wither, with great simplicity had proposed to try his for on the contrary, took his Muse along with him to tune at court. To his astonishment, however, he the camp and the congregation, and it is little to found that it was necessary to Hatter in order to be wondered at that her cap should have been be a courtier. To show his independence he torn and her voice made hoarse in the confusion. therefore wrote his “ Abuses whipt and stript,” Soon after his liberation from prison he puband instead of rising at court, was committed for lished the Hymns and Songs of the Church, one some months to the Marshalsea *. But if his edition of which is dedicated to King James, iu puritanism excited enemies, his talents and frank- which he declares that the hymns were printed ness gained him friends. He appears to have under his majesty's gracious protection. One of been intimate with the poet Browne, and to have the highest dignitaries of the church also sancbeen noticed by Selden. To the latter he inscribed tioned his performance ; but as it was Wither's his translation of the poem on the Nature of Man, | fate to be for ever embroiled, he had soon after from the Greek of Bishop Nemesius, an ancient occasion to complain that the booksellers, “ those father of the church. While in prison he wrote cruel bee-masters," as he calls them, “who burn his “Shepherd's Hunting," which contains perhaps the poor Athenian bees for their honey,” endeathe very finest touches that ever came from his voured to subvert his copy-right; while some of hasty and irregular pen, and besides those prison the more zealous clergymen complained that he eclogues,composed his “Satire to the King," a jus- had interfered with their calling, and slanderous tification of his former satires, which, if it gained persons termed his hymns needless songs and him his liberation, certainly effected it without popish rhymes. From any suspicion of popery retracting his principles.

his future labours were more than sufficient to It is not probable that the works of Wither clear him. James, it appears, encouraged him will ever be published collectively, curious as they to finish a translation of the Psalms, and was are, and occasionally marked by originality of kindly disposed towards him. Soon after the thought: but a detailed list of them is given in decease of his sovereign, on remembering that the “ British Bibliographer." From youth to age he had vowed a pilgrimage to the Queen of BoheGeorge continued to pour forth his lucubrations, in mia, he travelled to her court to accomplish his prophesy, remonstrance, complaint and triumph, vow, and presented her highness with a copy of through good and evil report, through all vi his Psalms. cissitudes of fortune: at one time in command In 1639 he was a captain of horse in the expeamong the saints, and at another scrawling his dition against the Scots, and quarter master genethoughts in gaol, when pen and ink were denied ral of his regiment, under the Earl of Arundel.

But as soon as the civil wars broke out he sold * He was imprisoned for his “Abuses whipt and

his estate to raise a troop of horse for the parliastript;" yet this could not have been his first offence, as an allusion is made to a former accusation. [It was

ment, and soon afterwards rose to the rank of for the Scourge (1615) that his first known imprisonment | major. In the month of October of the same took place. He had dealt, as he tells us in after life, in

year, 1612, he was appointed by parliament capparticulars not in season to be touched upon, and the

tain and commander of Farnham Castle, in Surgreatest fault of what he said was that it savoured more of honesty than discretion. Vice in high places was then rey ; but his government was of short duration, more than ordinarily sensitive and suspicious, and satire for the castle was ceded on the first of December when dealing in generals, like Hate, Envy, Lust and to Sir William Waller. Wither says, in his own Avarice, was always individualized by the reader; and men appropriated, as Lamb says, the most innocent

justification, that he was advised by his superiors abstractions to themselves. Ben Jonson complains of

to quit the place ; while his enemies alleged that this in more than one place.]

he deserted it. The defence of his conduct which

he published, seems to have been more resolute joyful gratulation. He never but once in his life than his defence of the fortress. In the course foreboded good, and in that prophecy he was misof the civil war, he was made prisoner by the taken. royalists, and when some of them were desirous At the Restoration, the estates, which he had of making an example of him, Denham, the poet, either acquired or purchased during the interis said to have pleaded with his majesty that he regnum, were taken from him. But the event would not hang him, for as long as Wither lived which crushed his fortunes could not silence his he (Denham) could not be accounted the worst pen, and he was committed first to Newgate and poet in England. Wood informs us that he was afterwards to The Tower, for remonstrances, afterwards constituted by Cromwell major which were deemed a libel on the new governgeneral of all the horse and foot in the county ment. From the multitude of his writings, of Surrey. In his addresses to Cromwell there is, during a three years' imprisonment, it may be mixed with his usual garrulity of advice and clearly gathered, that he was treated not only solemnity of warning, a considerable degree of adu with rigour, but injustice ; for the confiscation of lation, His admonitions probably exposed him his property was made by forcible entry, and to little hazard ; they were the croakings of the besides being illegal in form, was directly conraven on the right hand. It should be mentioned trary to the declaration that had been issued by however, to the honour of his declared principles, Charles the Second before his accession. That that in the “ National Remembrancer” he he died in prison may be inferred from the ac. sketched the plan of an annual and freely elected counts, though not clear from the dates of his parliament, which differed altogether from the biographers ; but his last days must have been shadow of representation afforded by the govern spent in wretchedness and obscurity*. He was ment of the usurper. On the demise of Crom buried between the east door and the south end well he hailed the accession of Richard with of the Savoy church, in the Strand.

FROM " THE SHEPHERD'S HUNTING.”

SEE'st thou not, in clearest days,
Oft thick fogs could heavens raise ?
And the vapours that do breathe
From the earth's gross womb beneath,
Seem they not with their black steams
To pollute the sun's bright beams,
And yet vanish into air,
Leaving it (unblemish’d) fair!
So, my Willy, shall it be
With Detraction's breath and thee :
It shall never rise so high
As to stain thy poesy.
As that sun doth oft exhale
Vapours from each rotten vale ;
Poesy so sometimes drains
Gross conceits from muddy brains ;
Mists of envy, fogs of spite,
'Twixt men's judgments and her light ;
But so much her power may do
That she can dissolve them too.
If thy verse do bravely tower,
As she makes wing, she gets power!
Yet the higher she doth soar,
She's affronted still the more :
Till she to the high’st hath past,
Then she rests with Fame at last.
Let nought therefore thee affright,
But make forward in thy flight :
For if I could match thy rhyme,
To the very stars I'd climb ;
There begin again, and fly
Till I reach'd eternity.
But, alas ! my Muse is slow;
For thy pace she flags too low.

Yes, the more's her hapless fate,
Her short wings were clipp'd of late ;
And poor I, her fortune ruing,
Am myself put up a muing.
But if I my cage can rid,
I'll fly, where I never did.
And though for her sake I'm crost,
Though my best hopes I have lost,
And knew she would make my trouble
Ten times more than ten times double ;
I would love and keep her too,
Spite of all the world could do.
For though banish'd from my flocks,
And confined within these rocks,
Here I waste away the light,
And consume the sullen night ;
She doth for my comfort stay,
And keeps many cares away.
Though I miss the flowery fields,
With those sweets the spring-tide yields ;
Though I may not see those groves,
Where the shepherds chaunt their loves,
And the lasses more excel
Than the sweet-voiced Philomel ;
Though of all those pleasures past,
Nothing now remains at last,
But remembrance, poor relief,
That more makes than mends my grief :
She's my mind's companion still,

Maugre Envy's evil will :
[* He was released from prison on the 27th July 1663, ou
his bond to the Lieutenant of the Tower for his good beha-
viour; and died, though not in prison, on the 2nd of May
1667.-See Willmoli's Lives of the Sacred Pocts, vol. i.]

Whence she should be driven to,
Were't in mortals' power to do.

THE SHEPHERD'S RESOLUTION.
She doth tell me where to borrow

Shall I, wasting in despair,
Comfort in the midst of sorrow;

Die because a woman's fair !
Makes the desolatest place

Or make pale my cheeks with care,
To her presence be a grace,

'Cause another's rosy are ?
And the blackest discontents

Be she fairer than the day,
Be her fairest ornaments.

Or the flow'ry meads in May ;
In my former days of bliss,

If she be not so to me,
His divine skill taught me this,

What care I how fair she be ?
That from every thing I saw,
I could some invention draw ;

Shall my foolish heart be pined,
And raise pleasure to her height

'Cause I see a woman kind ? Through the meanest object's sight :

Or a well-disposed nature By the murmur of a spring,

Joined with a lovely feature ? Or the least bough's rustling ;

Be she meeker, kinder, than By a daisy, whose leaves spread,

The turtle dove or pelican ; Shut when Titan goes to bed ;

If she be not so to me, Or a shady bush or tree,

What care I how kind she be !
She could more infuse in me,

Shall a woman's virtues move
Than all Nature's beauties can,
In some other wiser man.

Me to perish for her love ?

Or, her well-deservings known,
By her help I also now
Make this churlish place allow

Make me quite forget mine own?
Some things that may sweeten gladness

Be she with that goodness blest, In the very gall of sadness :

Which may merit name of Best ;

If she be not such to me,
The dull loneness, the black shade
That these hanging vaults have made,

What care I how good she be?
The strange music of the waves,

'Cause her fortune seems too high, Beating on these hollow caves,

Shall I play the fool and die ? This black den, which rocks emboss,

Those that bear a noble mind, Overgrown with eldest moss ;

Where they want of riches find, The rude portals, that give light

Think what with them they would do, More to terror than delight,

That without them dare to woo ; This my chamber of neglect,

And, unless that mind I see,
Wall'd about with disrespect,

What care I how great she be?
From all these, and this dull air,
A fit object for despair,

Great or good, or kind or fair,
She hath taught me by her might

I will ne'er the more despair :
To draw comfort and delight.

If she love me, this believe
Therefore then, best earthly bliss,

I will die ere she shall grieve.
I will cherish thee for this !

If she slight me when I woo, Poesy, thou sweet'st content

I can scorn and let her go : That e'er Heaven to mortals lent ;

If she be not fit for me,
Though they as a trifle leave thee,

What care I for whom she be?
Whose dull thoughts cannot conceive thee,
Though thou be to them a scorn
That to nought but earth are born ;

THE STEDFAST SHEPHERD.
Let my life no longer be
Than I am in love with thee !

HENCE away, thou Siren, leave me,
Though our wise ones call it madness,

Pish ! unclasp these wanton arms; Let me never taste of gladness

Sugar'd words can ne'er deceive me, If I love not thy mad'st fits

(Though thou prove a thousand charms). Above all their greatest wits !

Fie, fie, forbear ; And though some, too seeming holy,

No common snare Do account thy raptures folly,

Can ever my affection chain : Thou dost teach me to contemn

Thy painted baits, What makes knaves and fools of them * !

And poor deceits,

Are all bestow'd on me in vain. (* The praises of poetry have been often sung in ancient and modern times; strange powers have been ascribed but before Wither, no one had celebrated its power at to it of influence over animate and inanimate auditors; home; the wealth and the strength which this divine its force over fascinated crowds has been acknowledged ; / gift confers upon its possessor.–LAMB.]

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