SPECIMENS, WITH MEMOIRS, OF THE LESS-KNOWN BRITISH POETS. SECOND PERIOD FROM SPENSER TO DRYDEN. WILLIAM HABINGTON. THIS poet might have been expected to have belonged to the 'Spasmodic school,' judging by his parental antecedents. His father was accused of having a share in Babington's conspiracy, but was released because he was godson to Queen Elizabeth. Soon after, however, he was imprisoned a second time, and condemned to death on the charge of having concealed some of the Gunpowder-plot conspirators; but was pardoned through the interest of Lord Morley. His uncle, however, was less fortunate, suffering death for his complicity with Babington. The poet's mother, the daughter of Lord Morley, was more loyal than her husband or his brother, and is said to have written the celebrated letter to Lord Monteagle, in consequence of which the execution of the Gunpowder-plot was arrested. Our poet was born at Hindlip, Worcestershire, on the very day of the discovery of the plot, 5th November 1605. The family were Papists, and William was sent to St Omers to be educated. He was pressed to become a Jesuit, but declined. On his return to England, his father became preceptor to the poet. As he grew up, instead of displaying any taste for treasons, stratagems, and spoils,' he chose the better part, and lived a private and happy life. He fell in love with Lucia, ( VOL. II. A 1 daughter of William Herbert, the first Lord Powis, and celebrated her in his long and curious poem entitled 'Castara.' This lady he afterwards married, and from her society appears to have derived much happiness. In 1634, hé published 'Castara.' He also, at different times, produced The Queen of Arragon,' a tragedy; a History of Edward IV.; and 'Observations upon History.' He died in 1645, when he had just completed his fortieth year, and was buried in the family vault at Hindlip. 'Castara' is not a consecutive poem, but consists of a great variety of small pieces, in all sorts of style and rhythm, and of all varieties of merit; many of them addressed to his mistress under the name of Castara, and many to his friends; with reflective poems, elegies, and panegyrics, intermingled with verses sacred to love. Habington is distinguished by purity of tone if not of taste. He has many conceits, but no obscenities. His love is as holy as it is ardent. He has, besides, a vein of sentiment which sometimes approaches the moral sublime. To prove this, in addition to the 'Selections' below, we copy some verses entitled 'NOX NOCTI INDICAT SCIENTIAM.'-David. When I survey the bright Celestial sphere, So rich with jewels hung, that Night My soul her wings doth spread, The Almighty's mysteries to read For the bright firmament So silent, but is eloquent In speaking the Creator's name. No unregarded star Contracts its light Into so small a character, Removed far from our human sight, But if we steadfast look, We shall discern In it, as in some holy book, How man may heavenly knowledge learn. It tells the conqueror That far-stretch'd power, Which his proud dangers traffic for, Is but the triumph of an hour; That, from the furthest North, Yet undiscover'd, issue forth, Some nation, yet shut in May be let out to scourge his sin And then they likewise shall For, as yourselves, your empires fall, Thus those celestial fires, Though seeming mute, The fallacy of our desires, And all the pride of life, confute; For they have watch'd since first And found sin in itself accurst, And nothing permanent on earth. There is something to us particularly interesting in the history of this poet. Even as it is pleasant to see the sides of a volcano covered with verdure, and its mouth filled with flowers, so we like to find the fierce elements, which were inherited by Habington from his fathers, softened and subdued in him,— the blood of the conspirator mellowed into that of the gentle bard, who derived all his inspiration from a pure love and a mild and thoughtful religion. EPISTLE ADDRESSED TO THE HONOURABLE W. E. He who is good is happy. Let the loud Time mocks our youth, and (while we number past Of threat'ning death: pomp, beauty, wealth, and all The thought of this begets that brave disdain And sweat to purchase, thy contempt or sport. A cloud 'twixt us and heaven? Kind Nature chose The creature merely sensual knows more. Part of the world in its first strength doth live. Folly what dost thou in thy power contain And yet that idol wealth we all admit With safe content, while a pure virgin fame TO HIS NOBLEST FRIEND, J. C., ESQ. I hate the country's dirt and manners, yet I love the silence; I embrace the wit And courtship, flowing here in a full tide, But loathe the expense, the vanity, and pride. |