him, and his muse was his real mistress, to whom he addressed his effusions. "Among Waller's little poems are some," observes Dr. Johnson, "which their excellency ought to secure from oblivion; as, "To Amoret,' comparing the different modes of regard with which he looks on her and Sacharissa; and the verses 'On Love,' that begin, 'Anger in hasty words or blows.""

OF ENGLISH VERSE.

Poets may boast, as safely vain,

Their works shall with the world remain:
Both bound together, live or die,

The verses and the prophecy.

But who can hope his lines should long
Last in a daily-changing tongue ?
While they are new, envy prevails,
And as that dies, our language fails.
When architects have done their part,

The matter may betray their art:
Time, if we use ill-chosen stone,
Soon brings a well-built palace down.
Poets that lasting marble seek,
Must carve in Latin, or in Greek:
We write in sand; our language grows,
And, like the tide, our work o'erflows.

3

Chaucer, his sense can only boast,
The glory of his numbers lost!

Years have defaced his matchless strain,
And yet he did not sing in vain.

The beauties which adorn'd that age,
The shining subjects of his rage, ]
Hoping they should immortal prove,
Rewarded with success his love.

This was the generous poet's scope
And all an English pen can hope,
To make the fair approve his flame
That can so far extend their fame.
Verse, thus designed, has no ill fate
If it arrive but at the date

Of fading beauty; if it prove
But as long-liv'd as present love.

SONG.

Go, lovely Rose!

Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows

When I resemble her to thee,

How sweet and fair she seems to be.
Tell her that's young,

And shuns to have her graces spied,
That, hadst thou sprung

In deserts where no men abide,
Thou must have uncommended died.
Small is the worth

Of beauty from the light retir'd:
Bid her come forth,

Suffer herself to be desir'd,

And not blush so to be admir'd.
Then die! that she

The common fate of all things rare
May read in thee;

How small a part of time they share
That are so wondrous sweet and fair!

LOVE'S FAREWELL.

Treading the path to nobler ends,
A long farewell to love I gave,

Resolved my country, and my friends,

All that remained of me should have. And this resolve no mortal dame,

None but those eyes could have o'erthrown; The nymph I dare not, need not name,

So high, so like herself alone.
Thus the tall oak, which now aspires
Above the fear of private fires,
Grown and design'd for noble use,

Not to make warm, but build the house,
Though from our meaner flames secure,
Must that which falls from heaven endure.

LOVING AT SIGHT.

Sweetness, truth, and every grace,
Which time and use are wont to teach,
The eye may in a moment reach
And read distinctly in her face.

Some other nymphs with colors faint,
And pencil slow, may Cupid paint,
And a weak heart in time destroy;
She has a stamp and prints the boy;
Can with a single look inflame
The coldest breast, the rudest tame.

SONG.

While I listen to thy voice,

Chloris, I feel my life decay:

That powerful noise

Calls my flitting soul away.

Oh! suppress that magic sound,

Which destroys without a wound!

Peace, Chloris, peace! or singing die,

That together you and I

To heaven may go:

For all we know

Of what the blessed do above,

Is that they sing, and that they love.

Carew has more grace, more tenderness, and a finer fancy than Waller, and his versification is as delicate, and sweet. He lacks energy and diffusion, but is pre-eminent in grace and beauty. For sharpness of fancy, and elegance of language, he was equal, if not superior to any of his time. "Carew," says Mr. Headley, "has the ease without the pedantry of Waller, and perhaps less conceit." Hallam says of him, "few will hesitate to acknowledge that he has more fancy and more tenderness than Waller: but less choice, less judgment and knowledge where to stop, less of the equability which never offends, less attention to the unity and thread of his little pieces. I should hesitate to give him, on the whole, the preference as a poet, taking collectively the attributes of that character."

Mr. Campbell remarks of him, that he is more sparing of frigid thoughts than Waller; and his conceptions, compared to that poet's, are like fruits of a rich flavor, that have been cultured with the same assiduity.

VERNAL AIR.

Sweetly-breathing Vernal Air
That with kind warmth dost repair
Winter's ruins; from whose breast
All the gums and spice of th' East

Borrow their perfumes; whose eye

Gilds the morn, and clears the sky;
Whose dishevell'd tresses shed
Pearls upon the violet-bed;

On whose brow, with calm smiles drest,
The halcyon sits, and builds her nest:
Beauty, youth, and endless spring,
Dwell upon thy rosy wing!

Thou, if stormy boreas throws
Down whole forests when he blows,
With a pregnant flowery birth
Canst refresh the teeming earth.
If he nip the early bud,

If he blast what 's fair or good,
If he scatter our choice flowers,
If he shake our halls or bowers,
If his rude breath threaten us,
Thou canst stroke great Æolus,
And from him the grace obtain
To bind him in an iron chain.

PASTORAL.

SHEPHERD, NYMPH, CHORUS.

Shep. This mossy bank they prest. Nym. That aged oak

Did canopy the happy pair

All night from the damp air.

Cho. Here let us sit, and sing the words they spoke,

Till the day-breaking their embraces broke.

Shep. See, love, the blushes of the morn appear:

And now she hangs her pearly store

(Robb'd from the eastern shore)
I' th' cowslip's bell and rose's ear:

Sweet, I must stay no longer here.

Nym. Those streaks of doubtful light usher not day,