nor would have deferved it: No small honour is due to him for the harmony which he introduced, but upon that chiefly does his reputation ftand. He certainly is fometimes languid; he was rather a tender than a violent lover ; he has not that force of thinking, that amazing reach of genius for which Dryden is renowned, and had it been his lot to have appeared in the reign of Queen Anne, I imagine, he would not have been ranked above the fecond clafs of poets. But be this as it may, poetry owes him the highest obligations for refining it, and every fucceeding genius will be ready to acknowledge, that by copying Waller's ftrains, they have improved their own, and the more they follow him, the more they please.

Mr. Waller altered the Maid's Tragedy from Fletcher, and tranflated the first Act of the Tragedy of Pompey from the French of Corneille. Mrs. Katharine Philips, in a letter, to Sir Charles Cotterell, afcribes the translation of the first act to our author; and obferves, that Sir Edward Filmer did one, Sir Charles Sidley another, lord Buckhurst another; but who the fifth, says she, I cannot learn.

Mrs. Philips then proceeds to give a criticifm. on this performance of Waller's, fhews fome faults, and points out fome beauties, with a spirit and candour peculiar to her.

The best edition of our author's works is that published by Mr. Fenton, London 1730, containing poems, fpeeches, letters, &c. In this edition is added the preface to the first edition of Mr. Waller's poems after the reftoration, printed in the year 1664.

As

As a fpecimen of Mr. Waller's poetry, we fhall give a tranfcript of his Panegyric upon Oliver Cromwell.

A Panegyric to my Lord PROTECTOR, of the prefent greatnefs, and joint intereft of his Highness and this Nation.

In the YEAR 1654.

1

W

HILE with a ftrong, and yet a gentle hand You bridle faction, and our hearts command, Protect us from our felves, and from the foe, Make us unite, and make us conquer too :

Let partial fpirits ftill aloud complain,
Think themselves injur'd that they cannot reign,
And own no liberty, but where they may
Without controul upon their fellows prey.

Above the waves as Neptune fhew'd his face
To chide the winds, and fave the Trojan race;
So has your Highness, rais'd above the rest,
Storms of Ambition toffing us repreft.

Your drooping country, torn with civil hate,
Reftor'd by you, is made a glorious state;
The feat of empire, where the Irish come,
And the unwilling Scotch, to fetch their doom.

The fea's our own, and now all nations greet,
With bending fails, each veffel of our fleet.
Your pow'r extends as far as winds can blow,
Or fwelling fails upon the globe may go.

Heav'n,

fhall Oliver

pre

nets

and

Heav'n, that hath plac'd this ifland to give law,
To balance Europe, and her ftates to awe,
In this conjunction doth on Britain smile;
The greatest leader, and the greatest isle.

Whether this portion of the world were rent
By the rude ocean from the Continent,
Or thus created, it was fure defign'd 1 nome
To be the facred refuge of mankind.

Hither th' oppreffed fhall henceforth refort
Juft ce to crave, and fuccour at your court;
And then your Highness, not for our's alone,
But for the world's Protector fhall be known.

Fame swifter than your winged navy flies
Thro' ev'ry land that near the ocean lies,
Sounding your name, and telling dreadful News
To all that piracy and rapine use.

With fuch a chief the meaneft nation bleft,
Might hope to lift her head above the rest:
What may be thought impoffible to do
By us, embraced by the feas, and you?

Lords of the world's great wafte, the ocean, we
Whole forests fend to reign upon the fea,
And ev'ry coaft may trouble or relieve;
But none can vifit us without your leave.

Angels and we have this prerogative,
That none can at our happy feats arrive;
While we defcend at pleasure to invade
The bad with vengeance, and the good to aid.

Our

Our little world, the image of the great,
Like that, amidst the boundless ocean fet,
Of her own growth hath all that nature craves,
And all that's rare, as tribute from the waves.

As Egypt does not on the clouds rely,
But to the Nile owes more than to the sky;
So what our Earth and what our heav'n denies,
Our ever-conftant friend the fea, fupplies.

The taste of hot Arabia's fpice we know,
Free from the fcorching fun that makes it grow;
Without the worm in Perfian filks we shine,
And without planting drink of ev'ry vine.

To dig for wealth we weary not our limbs,
Gold (tho' the heaviest Metal) hither swims :
Our's is the harveft where the Indians mow,
We plough the deep, and reap what others fow.

Things of the noblest kind our own foil breeds;
Stout are our men, and warlike are our steeds;
Rome (tho' her eagle thro' the world had flown)
Cou'd never make this ifland all her own.

Here the third Edward, and the Black Prince too,
France-conq'ring Henry flourish'd, and now you;
For whom we ftaid, as did the Grecian ftate,
Till Alexander came to urge their fate.

When for more world's the Macedonian cry'd,
He wift not Thetys in her lap did hide
Another yet, a world referv'd for you,
To make more great than that he did fubdue.

He

He fafely might old troops to battle lead
Against th' unwarlike Perfian, and the Mede;
Whofe hafty flight did from a bloodless field,
More fpoils than honour to the victor yield.

A race unconquer'd, by their clime made bold,
The Caledonians arm'd with want and cold,
Have, by a fate indulgent to your fame,
Been from all ages kept for you to tame.

Whom the old Roman wall fo ill confin'd,
With a new chain of garrifons you bind:
Here foreign gold no more fhall make them come,
Our English Iron holds them fast at home.

They that henceforth must be content to know No warmer region than their hills of fnow, May blame the fun, but muft extol your grace, Which in our fenate hath allow'd them place.

Preferr'd by conqueft, happily o'erthrown,
Falling they rife, to be with us made one:
So kind dictators made, when they came home,
Their vanquish'd foes free citizens of Rome.

Like favour find the Irish, with like fate
Advanc'd to be a portion of our state :
While by your valour, and your bounteous mind,
Nations, divided by the fea, are join'd.

Holland, to gain your friendship, is content
To be our out-guard on the continent :
She from her fellow-provinces wou'd go,
Rather than hazard to have you her foe.