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Nick of time.

The Goblins “High characters,” cries one, and he would see Things that ne'er were, nor are, nor e'er will be.

The Goblins. Epilogue.

MARQUIS OF MONTROSE. 1612–1650.

He either fears his fate too much,

Or his deserts are small,
That dares not put it to the touch

To gain or lose it all.” My Dear and only Love
I'll make thee glorious by my pen,

And famous by my sword.8

Ibid.

SIR JOHN DENHAM. 1615–1668.
Though with those streams he no resemblance hold,
Whose foam is amber and their gravel gold;
His genuine and less guilty wealth t explore,
Search not his bottom, but survey his shore.

Cooper's Hill. Line 165.
Oh, could I flow like thee, and make thy stream
My great example, as it is my theme!
Though deep, yet clear; though gentle, yet not dull;
Strong without rage; without o'erflowing, full. Line 189.

1 Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see,
Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be.

POPE: Essay on Criticism, part ii. line 53.
There's no such thing in Nature, and you 'll draw
A faultless monster which the world ne'er saw.

SHEFFIELD: Essay on Poetry.
2 That puts it not unto the touch
To win or lose it all.

NAPIER: Montrose and the Corenanters,

vol. ii. p. 566.
8 I'll make thee famous by my pen,
And glorious by my sword.

Scort : Legend of Montrose, chap.

Actions of the last age are like almanacs of the last year.

The Sophy. A Tragedy. But whither am I strayed ? I need not raise Trophies to thee from other men's dispraise; Nor is thy fame on lesser ruins built; Nor needs thy juster title the foul guilt Of Eastern kings, who, to secure their reign, Must have their brothers, sons, and kindred slain.

On Mr. John Fletcher's Works.

RICHARD CRASHAW. Circa 1616–1630.

The conscious water saw its God and blushed.

Epigram.

Whoe'er she be,
That not impossible she,
That shall command my heart and me.

Wishes to his Supposed Mistress.
Where'er she lie,
Locked up from mortal eye,
In shady leaves of destiny.

Ibid. Days that need borrow No part of their good morrow From a fore-spent night of sorrow.

Ibid.

Life that dares send
A challenge to his end,
And when it comes, say, Welcome, friend!

Ibid.

1 Poets are sultans, if they had their will ;
For every author would his brother kill.

ORRERY : Prologues (according to Johnson).
Should such a man, too fond to rule alone,
Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne.

Pope: Prologue to the Satires, line 197. 2 Nympha pudica Deum vidit, et erubuit (The modest Nymph saw the god, and blushed). - Epigrammationa Sacra. Aquæ in vinum versa, p. 299.

Sydneian showers
Of sweet discourse, whose powers
Can crown old Winter's head with flowers.

Wishes to his Supposed Mistress.
A happy soul, that all the way.
To heaven hath a summer's day.

In Praise of Lessius's Rule of Health. The modest front of this small floor, Believe me, reader, can say more Than many a braver marble can, — “Here lies a truly honest man!” Epitaph upon Mr. Ashton.

RICHARD LOVELACE. 1618–1658.

Oh, could you view the melody

Of every grace

And music of her face,
You'd drop a tear;
Seeing more harmony

In her bright eye
Than now you hear.

Orpheus to Beasts.
I could not love thee, dear, so much,
Lov'd I not honour more.

To Lucasta, on going to the Wars.
When flowing cups pass swiftly round
With no allaying Thames.?

To Althea from Prison, ii.
Fishes that tipple in the deep,
Know no such liberty.

Ibid.

1 See Browne, page 218.

The mind, the music breathing from her face. – BYRON: Bride of Aby. dos, canto i. stanza 6.

2 See Shakespeare, page 103.

Stone walls do not a prison make,

Nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take

That for an hermitage;
If I have freedom in my love,

And in my soul am free,
Angels alone that soar above

Enjoy such liberty. To Althea from Prison, io

ABRAHAM COWLEY. 1618–1667.

What shall I do to be forever known,
And make the age to come my own ?

The Motto. His time is forever, everywhere his place.

Friendship in Absence. We spent them not in toys, in lusts, or wine,

But search of deep philosophy,

Wit, eloquence, and poetry;
Arts which I lov’d, for they, my friend, were thine.

On the Death of Mr. William Harvey.
His faith, perhaps, in some nice tenets might
Be wrong; his life, I'm sure, was in the right."

On the Death of Crashaw. The thirsty earth soaks up the rain, And drinks, and gapes for drink again; The plants suck in the earth, and are With constant drinking fresh and fair.

From Anacreon, ij. Drinking. Fill all the glasses there, for why Should every creature drink but I ? Why, man of morals, tell me why?

Wid.

1 For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight, He can't be wrong whose life is in the right.

Pope: Essay on Man, epilogue iii. line 303. Ibid. ii.

A mighty pain to love it is,
And 't is a pain that pain to miss;
But of all pains, the greatest pain
It is to love, but love in vain. From Anacreon, vii. Gold.
Hope, of all ills that men endure,
The only cheap and universal cure. The Mistress. For Hope.
Th’ adorning thee with so much art

Is but a barb’rous skill;
'Tis like the pois'ning of a dart,
Too apt before to kill.

The Waiting Maid. Nothing is there to come, and nothing past, But an eternal now does always last.

Davideis. Book i. Line 25. When Israel was from bondage led,

Led by the Almighty's hand

From out of foreign land, The great sea beheld and fled.

Line 41 An harmless flaming meteor shone for hair, And fell adown his shoulders with loose care.?

Book ii. Line 95. The monster London laugh at me.

Of Solitude, xi. Let but thy wicked men from out thee go, And all the fools that crowd thee so, Even thou, who dost thy millions boast, A village less than Islington wilt grow, A solitude almost.

Ibid. vii. The fairest garden in her looks, And in her mind the wisest books.

The Garden, i. God the first garden made, and the first city Cain.8

1 One of our poets (which is it?) speaks of an everlasting now. - SOUTHEY: The Doctor, chap. xxv. p. 1.

2 Loose his beard and hoary hair
Stream'd like a meteor to the troubled air.

GRAY: The Bard, i. 2. 8 See Bacon, page 167.

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