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 FROM THE 
 
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 COLLECTED BY 
 
 BENNO LOEWY 
 
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 BEQUEATHED TO CORNELL UNIVERSrTY 
 
„„ Cornell University Library 
 
 PR 3750.A2 1893 
 
 Poems. 
 
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 the Cornell University Library. 
 
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Ct)c Muiti' %ihtats. 
 
THE POEMS 
 
 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
Two Hundred Copies of this Edition have 
 been printed on largi paper. 
 
 No..r^..4^...... 
 
THE POEMS 
 
 EDMUND WALLER 
 
 KDITED BY 
 
 G. THORN DRURY. 
 
 LONDON : 
 LAWRENCE & BULLEN, 
 
 i6 HENRIETTA STREET, W.C. 
 1893. 
 
 EL 
 
Loftdott : 
 
 Printed by Hendersmt 6r Spalding, Limited, 
 
 MaryUhone Lane, W. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 If any justification be needed for the publi- 
 cation of a new edition of Waller's Poems, it 
 will surely be found in the fact that they had 
 for some time ceased to be accessible, except 
 in the shape of second-hand copies. 
 
 I have adopted, as far as practicable, the text 
 of the edition of 1686, the last published during 
 the poet's life. I have noted the sources of 
 such verses as are here printed for the first 
 time, and I have omitted one poem, hitherto 
 ascribed to Waller, the lines on " The British 
 Princes," the MS. of which Thyer discovered 
 among Butler's papers, in his autograph. I 
 desire to express my sense of the great kindness 
 I have received from Edmund Waller, Esq., 
 the present representative of the poet, who has 
 placed at my disposal everything in his posses- 
 sion relating to his ancestor, and has also allowed 
 the two portraits which accompany this book to 
 be reproduced from pictures in his possession — 
 that of Edmund Waller from the picture by 
 
viii EDMUND WALLER 
 
 Cornelis Janssens, and that of Lady Dorothy 
 Sidney from a picture which was certainly in 
 the poet's possession, and is believed to have 
 been presented to him by Sacharissa herself. 
 My thanks are also due to H. Buxton Forman, 
 Esq., who very kindly allowed me to collate 
 two rarities in his library, the folio edition of 
 the " Panegyric," and the " Divine Poems " of 
 1685. 
 
 G. THORN DRURY. 
 
THIS EDITION 
 
 OF 
 
 THE POEMS OF HIS ANCESTOR IS DEDICATED 
 
 TO 
 
 EDMUND WALLER, Esq., 
 
 OF 
 
 FARMINGTON LODGE, NORTHLEACH. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 A GREAT novelist has justified the mention of his 
 hero's ancestors by the suggestion that he might, 
 if they were omitted, be in danger of being 
 supposed to have had none. In no sense is 
 such an imputation true of Edmund Waller : 
 the name which he has rendered familiar to so 
 many (albeit they mispronounce it), was known 
 long before his time as that of a family of great 
 wealth and antiquity, originally settled in the 
 county of Kent. From Groombridge, his seat, 
 near Speldhurst, Richard Waller, afterwards 
 sheriff of the county, set out to join Henry V. 
 in France, and thither he returned from 
 Agincourt, bringing with him Charles, Duke of 
 Orleans, whom he had taken prisoner in the 
 battle. For four-and-twenty years he kept the 
 the Prince " in honourable confinement," and it 
 is recorded of him, that during that time he 
 rebuilt his own house and beautified the parish 
 church, in the porch of which were carved his 
 arms with the addition, the royal shield of 
 France, and the motto " Hkc fructus virtulis," 
 granted to him in memory of his exploit. His 
 eldest son, another Richard Waller, married 
 
xiv EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 the daughter and heiress of Edmund Brudenell, 
 lord of the manor of Coleshill, and this union 
 no doubt led to the migration from Kent of 
 that part of the family from which the poet was 
 immediately descended. The exact date when the 
 Wallers of Beaconsfield branched off from the 
 main stock cannot now be ascertained, but it is 
 certain that well back into the sixteenth century 
 they were in possession of lands in Hertford- 
 shire and Buckinghamshire, all of which appear 
 to have eventually devolved upon Robert 
 Waller, the father of the poet. Robert Waller 
 had been bred to the study of the law, and for 
 some time practised as a barrister, but his 
 circumstances rendering this occupation un- 
 necessary, he retired into the country and 
 devoted himself to the improvement of his 
 estates. He took for his wife, Anne, daughter 
 of Griffith Hampden.i Edmund, their eldest 
 son, was born on the 3rd of March, 1606, at 
 the manor-house, Coleshill, a hamlet which 
 then formed part of the county of Hertford, but 
 which, since 1832, has been absorbed into 
 Buckinghamshire. All traces of the mansion 
 have disappeared, and the site upon which it is 
 said to have stood is now occupied by a 
 dilapidated farm-house, little better than a 
 cottage, known as " Stocks Place," or " Old 
 
 I.— Her brother, William, was the father of the celebrated 
 John Hampden by his marriage with Elizabeth, daughter of Sir 
 Henry Ciomwell and aunt of the Protector. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xv 
 
 Stocks." From his birth-place, the future poet 
 was taken, on the 9th of March, to the parish 
 church at Amersham, or, as it was then called, 
 Agmondesham, to be baptized.^ His father is 
 said to have sold his property at Coleshill and 
 to have betaken himself to another house of his 
 at Beaconsfield, which sadly weakens the 
 pleasant tradition that clings to a huge old oak 
 still standing in a little meadow at the back of 
 "Stocks Place.'' A niche cut in this tree has 
 been pointed out as Waller's favourite seat, 
 where he was wont to sit and write his verses ; 
 and if there are not now to be found in the 
 bark any initials which recall my Lady Carlisle 
 or Sacharissa, the swains of the neighbourhood 
 have done their best to make up for it by carving 
 almost every other conceivable combination of 
 letters. What little we know of his early 
 education is derived from Aubrey, who was 
 told by Waller himself that " he was bred under 
 severall ill, dull, and ignorant schoolmasters, 
 till he went to Mr. Dobson at Wickham, who 
 was a good schoolmaster and had been an 
 
 1 The register containing the entry of his baptism is still to 
 be seen, and although one at least of his editors knew of the 
 existence of the " writ of oustre," recitingthat on Oct. 4, 1616, 
 
 Edmund Waller was ten years months old (a word is 
 
 obliterated), it never seems to have occurred to him or any one 
 else to examine the register and make the obvious discovery that 
 the birth and baptism of the poet have been wrongly assigned 
 to 1605, in consequence of the practice of beginning the New 
 Year on March 25. 
 
xvi EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 Eaton schollar,'' while one Mr. Thomas Bigge, 
 who was in the same form with him at Mr. 
 Dobson's school, and "was wont to make his 
 exercise for him," confessed to the same author- 
 ity, that " he little thought then he would have 
 been so rare a poet." 
 
 Robert Waller died Aug. 26, 1616, lamenting 
 the idle life he had led, and leaving a paper of 
 advice to his son which, though it continued for 
 several generations in the possession of the 
 family, has now unfortunately disappeared. 
 The care of the poef s education then devolved 
 upon his mother, a lady of unusual capacity for 
 business, and, if we may trust Aubrey, not 
 without a sense of humour of a somewhat robust 
 order. She sent him to Eton, and thence to 
 Cambridge, where he was admitted a Fellow- 
 Commoner of King's College, March 22, 1620. 
 He had for his tutor a relative, who is said to 
 have been a very learned man, and under him 
 probably acquired some of that familiarity with 
 the Latin language which he retained to the 
 end of his life. His stay at the University can 
 hardly have been a long one, and there is no 
 record of his having taken a degree. He was, 
 says Clarendon, "nursed in parliaments," but 
 though the returns show that he was a member 
 at an unusually early age, there is some 
 difficulty in determining the date of his first 
 entrance. According to the inscription on his 
 monument, "nondum octodecennalis inter 
 
INTRODUCTION. xvii 
 
 ardua regni tractantes sedem habuit a burgo 
 de Agmondesham missus.'' Now the right 
 of Amersham to return members was in abey- 
 ance till the last Parliament of James I. 
 (Feb. 12, 1624), when the town was 
 represented by Hakeville and Crew, but it 
 has been suggested that Waller was allowed 
 to sit for Amersham in the previous Parliament, 
 which met Jan. 16, 1621, sui silentio, without the 
 privilege of taking part in the debates. This 
 view is confirmed by his own statement in the 
 House, that he was but sixteen when he first 
 sat, which would point rather to 1621 than 1624, 
 and by the fact that, according to the writer of 
 his"Life"(ed. 171 i),whohaditfromDr. Birch, the 
 poet's son-in-law, he always assigned to the day 
 of the dissolution of a Parliament of which he 
 was a member, a remarkable story, without which 
 no biography of him appears to be complete. "He 
 went, out of curiosity or respect, to see the King 
 at dinner, with whom were Dr. Andrews, 
 Bishop of Winchester, and Dr. Neal, Bishop of 
 . Durham, standing behind his Majesty's chair ; 
 . . . His Majesty asked the Bishops, ' My 
 Lords, cannot I take my subjects' money when 
 I want it without all this formality in Parlia- 
 ment?' The Bishop of Durham readily 
 answered, ' God forbid. Sir, but you should, you 
 are the breath of our nostrils : ' Whereupon the 
 King turned, and said to the Bishop of 
 Winchester, 'Well, my Lord, what say you?' 
 
xviii EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 ' Sir,' replied the Bishop, ' I have no skill to 
 judge of Parliamentary cases : ' The King 
 answered, ' No puts-off, my Lord, answer me 
 presently : ' ' Then, Sir,' said he, ' I think it's 
 lawful for you to take my Brother Neal's money, 
 for he offers it.' " It is unnecessary to relate how 
 James, with his customary coarseness, repaid 
 this with a jest at the expense of the Bishop : 
 the only point of the story in this connection is 
 its date, the next Parliament, which met Feb. 12, 
 1624, being only dissolved by the King's death. 
 In that assembly Waller's name appears as 
 member for llchester, a seat which he obtained 
 by favour of Nathaniel Tomkins, his brother-in- 
 law, whose connection with the poet was after- 
 wards to bring him to such a tragic fate. 
 Tomkins appears to have been elected for 
 llchester and Christchurch Twynham, and to 
 have preferred to sit for the latter. Waller was 
 member for Chipping Wycombe in the first 
 Parliament of Charles I : he appears to have 
 had no seat in the second, but represented 
 Amersham in the third and fourth.. His 
 parliamentary career up to this time appears to 
 have been uneventful : as he told the House in 
 after years, there was then no great competition 
 for seats, " the neighbourhood desired him to 
 serve : there was a dinner, and so an end."' 
 Whatever may have been his poetical reputa- 
 tion up to the year 1631, Clarendon is probably 
 
INTRODUCTION. xix 
 
 right in saying that the first sensation Waller 
 created was by his marriage. 
 
 John' Bankes, citizen and mercer, having 
 amassed a considerable fortune, which he is 
 credited with having worthily used, died Sept. 
 9, 1630, leaving an only daughter, Anne. A 
 contest for the hand of the heiress at once 
 arose, and even the Court condescended to 
 interfere and to support with its influence the 
 suit of Mr. William Crofts, afterwards Baron 
 Crofts of Saxham, but another aspirant had 
 influences nearer at hand, and through the 
 agency of a relative, Capt. Henry Waller (a 
 citizen), and his wife, Mistress Bankes was 
 conveyed out of the jurisdiction of the Court of 
 Aldermen, of which she was a ward, into the 
 country, and there contracted in marriage to the 
 poet. The marriage was celebrated July 5j 
 1 63 1, at St. Margaret's Westmister. 
 
 This was too much for the Court of Aldermen 
 — they brought the matter before the Lords of 
 the Council, instituted proceedings in the Star ■ 
 Chamber against Waller, and all who had aided 
 and abetted him, and sent a sergeant-at-arms in 
 search of the bride. Mrs. Edmund Waller, 
 having been brought back, was lodged in the 
 custody of the Lord Mayor, Sir Robert Ducie, 
 
 1 The inscription on Waller's monument says, "Edward," but 
 the "Repertories" and Maitland's London (srdedition) ii. 1151, 
 unite in giving " John" as the Christian name. 
 
XX EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 and duly appeared with her husband before the 
 outraged City Fathers. The poet was told that 
 as the lady had chosen to marry him without 
 the consent of her guardians, she had forfeited 
 her portion, but that having regard to the fact 
 that he had, as they were informed, settled upon 
 her a jointure of ;^i,ooo a year, and had also 
 given her power to dispose of ;£2,ooo of her 
 fortune at her own pleasure, the Court was 
 inclined, notwithstanding the custom of the City 
 and the expenses incurred in prosecuting the 
 suit against him and his accomplices before the 
 Lords of the Council and the Star Chamber, to 
 take a lenient view of the case, and to accept 
 a fine of five hundred marks, to be deducted out 
 of so much of his wife's portion as remained in 
 the hands of the Chamberlain, after which 
 the balance would be handed to him. This 
 generosity on the part of the Aldermen does 
 not appear to have been altogether spontaneous, 
 and Court influence, however unsuccessful in 
 support of Mr. Crofts' suit, prevailed on behalf 
 of Waller. On Dec. 15, 1631, Mrs. Waller's 
 ex-guardians were informed by letter from the 
 King, that, as he had pardoned Edmund Waller 
 and the rest of the defendants to the information 
 before the Star Chamber, he expected like 
 clemency cm their part, and the payment of 
 Mrs. Waller's portion to her husband. The 
 fortune which Waller inherited from his father, 
 which must have been largely increased during 
 
introduction: xxi 
 
 his long minority, has been variously estimated 
 at from ;£2,ooo to ^3,500 a year ; adding to this 
 the amount which he received with Miss Bankes, 
 said to have been about ^8,000, and allowing for 
 the difference in the value of money, it appears 
 probable that, with the exception of Rogers, the 
 history of English literature can show no richer 
 poet. " Waller himself," says Oldham, meaning 
 no disrespect to his powers, 
 
 " Waller himself may thank inheritance 
 For what he else, had never got by sense." 
 
 The few years during which the poet was to 
 enjoy the society of his first wife were spent at 
 Beaconsfield: there, on May 18, 1633, his eldest 
 son was born, and there, but a few months later, 
 his wife died in giving birth to a daughter, 
 baptized on Oct. 23, 1634, the day of her 
 mother's funeral, by the significant names of 
 Anne Marah. Waller's first marriage has 
 generally beenregarded as a mercenary one, and 
 even those of his biographers who have not 
 been most eager to turn everything to hi» 
 disadvantage have treated his capture of the 
 heiress as something in the nature of an exploit-; . 
 whatever his relations with her before and 
 during his married life, the poet, writing nearly 
 fifty years later to his niece. Lady Speke, to 
 console her for the death of her son, reminds 
 her of the grief he himself suffered in the loss of 
 an excellent wife, of which she was then his 
 witness and his comforter. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxiii 
 
 for many years previous to 1640, in the family 
 of the Earl of Carnarvon. 
 
 By Lord Falkland and his friends, among 
 whom were Sir Francis Wenman, Chillingwbrth, 
 and Sidney Godolphin, Waller was "received 
 and esteemed with great applause.'' His semi- 
 public recognition as a poet, which Clarendon 
 assigns to his thirtieth year, can hardly have 
 been separated by any long interval from his 
 introduction to this society. About this time 
 too, in all probability, began his connection-with 
 the lady whom, as Aubrey says, "he has 
 eternized in his poems.'' The subject is involved 
 in uncertainty, and one is surprised to find, 
 upon examination, how very slender are the 
 links which bind together the names of Waller 
 and Sacharissa. Sacharissa (a name which the 
 poet formed, "as he used to say pleasantly," 
 from sacharum, sugar), or Lady Dorothy 
 Sidney, was the eldest daughter of Robert, 
 second Earl of Leicester, and Dorothy, daughter 
 of Henry, ninth Earl of Northumberland. She 
 was bom at Sion House, and baptized Oct. 5, 
 1617, at Isleworth.i 
 
 It is impossible to say exactly when she first 
 attracted the attention of Waller : " a very good 
 friend " of the poet's told the writer of his " Life" 
 
 1 This information, which Mrs. Ady ('* Sacharissa," by Julia 
 Cartwright, 1893) appears to announce as a discovery, we 
 owe to Peter Cunningham, who inserted it in a note to his 
 edition of Johnson's " Lives." 
 
xxiv EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 (171 1) that he "believed his first wife was dead 
 before he became enamoured of my Lady 
 Dorothy Sidney" ; but it seems to me that the 
 key to the situation, so far as there is one, is 
 supplied by the poem, " To my Lord of 
 Leicester " (p. 47). The Earl of Leicester is in 
 France, and Waller begs him to return to 
 England to determine by his prudent choice 
 the contention which has arisen among them 
 for '' one bright nymph," his daughter, and goes 
 on to speak of— 
 
 "That beam of beauty, which begun 
 To warm »s so when thou wert here'' 
 
 The Earl left for France, May 17, 1636, and 
 though he is said, presumably before his 
 departure, to have loved the poet, and to have 
 been willing to give him one of his younger 
 daughters (he had a large family), I think it is 
 hardly likely that Waller can have begun to pay 
 his addresses, in any form, to Lady Dorothy till 
 towards the end of the year 1635. Aubrey says 
 that he was passionately in love with the lady, 
 and even goes so far as to suggest that his 
 rejection by her was probably the cause of a fit 
 of madness, from which village-gossip told him 
 the poet had suffered. Later critics have been 
 by no means inclined to accept this view of the 
 situation. Nothing in the verses which Waller 
 addressed to Sacharissa has been more re- 
 marked than the absence of anything like the 
 appearance of passion ; it does not, however. 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxt> 
 
 it seems to me, follow that the poet's love was 
 not real, or that it was, as has been suggested, 
 merely the outcome of ambition. He was no 
 doubt vain, and, in a sense, shallow, and if his 
 love did not express itself with that fervency 
 which burns in some of the earlier verses of 
 Donne, for instance, it was because his nature 
 was essentially different, and he gave of that he 
 had. Waller is the last man in the world in 
 whose published writings one would expect to 
 find anything of self-revelation, and without 
 materials it is worse than useless to attempt to 
 follow the course of his suit. It is perfectly 
 true that almost all the poems which we can 
 directly assign to the inspiration of Sacharissa, 
 appear to have been written upon " occasions," 
 but to conclude, on that account, that the poet 
 only addressed her when he was "sure to make a 
 direct social sensation," is to misunderstand the 
 nature of Waller's poetical endowments. 
 
 He was practically without " invention," and 
 if he now and then succeeded in giving to his 
 verse the appearance of being " inevitable," it 
 was only because those happy moments which 
 occasionally visited so many of the lyrists of the 
 seventeeth century were not wholly absent from 
 his literary life. There is not, as far as I know, 
 any authority for connecting the name of 
 Sacharissa with the famous lines " On a Girdle'' 
 (p. 95), or with the still more famous song, " Go, 
 lovely rose'' . (p. 128) : they may, or may not, 
 
xxvi EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 have been addressed to her ; in any case our 
 appreciation of them is hardly likely to be in- 
 creased by certain knowledge on the subject. 
 
 The exact date at which Waller abandoned 
 his suit is no more attainable than that of its 
 beginning : he was still offering his poetical 
 homage in the latter half of the year 1638, and 
 one cannot help thinking that "haughty 
 Sacharissa's scorn " must have been manifested, 
 not so much by any peremptory rejection of him, 
 as by a more humiliating but good-tempered 
 refusal to regard his pretensions in any serious 
 light at all. The following letter^ has been 
 dated May, 1639, by the compilers of the 
 " Calendars of State Papers," butthere isnothing 
 in the document itself to favour that or any 
 other ascription. 
 
 " Madam 
 
 "The handkercher I receaved fro Mi" 
 Vane having so neer resemblance to a dream, 
 w<:h presents us w'h a mixture of things that 
 have no affinitye one w'h another, I have (as 
 the Assirian kings did w't their dreams) con- 
 sulted w'li all the magicians & cunning 
 woemen in our countrie, & though it be easie 
 to see through it, I finde none that can enterpret 
 it ; I am sending it to Oxford to the Astrologers 
 to know yf ther be any constellations or fygures 
 
 1 The original is to be found among the State Papers, Dom. 
 Ch. 1. ccccxxii. 122 ; it has been imperfectly and incorrectly 
 printed by Mrs. Ady, " Sadiarissa,'* pp. 44-5, 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxvii 
 
 in the upper Globe to \^ those in the 4 comers 
 may allude, for on Earth the Herball tells us of 
 nothing like them : I did first apprehend it was 
 as a potent charme, having power like the 
 wande of Cyrce, to transforme mee into some 
 strange shape^ but the crosses in the middle 
 perswading mee it was a good Christian 
 handkercher I ventured to wipe my face wti> it, 
 when the gAlden fringe w'h a rough salute told 
 me it was for some nobler use : Madam I 
 beseech your La^ use your interest in hir to 
 unriddle thi> handkercher w* so perplexes us. 
 I am sorrie that a Ladie of so various a phansye 
 hath not the power of framing living things too, 
 that wee might behold some new compositions 
 and kindes of things w<;h dull nature never 
 thought of: seriously (Madam) I humbly kiss 
 hir hands for this fauor, w<:h not being to be 
 wasted by use, I shall aeternally keepe for hir 
 sake, and doe presume shee will pardon this 
 rambling acknowledgement made in imitation 
 of the style of hir handkercher ; by (Madam) 
 Y' \y^ most humble servant 
 
 " Edm. Waller." 
 
 On the outside, "for my Ladye Dorothye 
 Sidney." 
 
 Whether "Mistress Vane'' was a name by 
 which Lady Dorothy chose to be known to her 
 admirer, or whether the gift simply reached the 
 
 1 After this some words have been written and obliterated, 
 apparently, " yf I but touched my nose wth it." 
 
 2 
 
xxviii EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 poet by the hand of one Mistress Vane, one 
 cannot now tell, but it can hardly be that he 
 was writing his " acknowledgement " to 
 Sacharissa, and promising her "aeternally to 
 keep" the handkerchief of "another Kentish 
 young lady, a member of the Vane family," as 
 Mrs. Ady supposes him to have been. Though 
 Mr. Waller is never mentioned, there were other 
 possible suitors for the hand of her daughter, 
 upon whose eligibility Lady Leicester had to 
 report to her husband in Paris : now it is Lord 
 Russell, now Lord Devonshire, and now Lord 
 Lovelace who is to be the happy man, but all 
 these gentleman, one after another, disappointed 
 expectations, either by fixing their affections 
 elsewhere or byfailing to come up to the requisite 
 moral standard. At last, on July 20, 1639, 
 Sacharissa was married at Penshurst to Lord 
 Spencer of Wormleighton, afterwards created 
 Earl of Sunderland, and for years passed com- 
 pletely out of Waller's life. The following 
 letter, (first printed in 171 1) the poet addressed 
 to Lady Lucy, the sister of the bride, upon the 
 occasion of the wedding. 
 
 " Madam, 
 
 " In this common joy at Penshurst I know 
 none to whom complaints may come less unsea- 
 sonable than to your Ladyship, the loss of a 
 bed-fellow being almost equal to that of a mis- 
 tress ; and therefore you ought, at least to 
 
introduction: xxix 
 
 pardon, if you consent not to the imprecations 
 of the deserted, which just Heaven no doubt 
 will hear. May my Lady Dorothy, if we may 
 yet call her so, suffer as much and have the like 
 passion for this young Lord, whom she has pre- 
 ferred to the rest of mankind, as others have 
 had for her ; and may this love, before the year 
 go about, make her taste of the first curse im- 
 posed on womankind, the pains of becoming a 
 mother. May her first bom be none of her own 
 sex, nor so like her, but that he may resemble 
 her Lord as much as herself May she that 
 always affected silence and retiredness, have the 
 house filled with the noise and number of her 
 children, and hereafter of her grand-children, 
 and then may she arrive at that great curse so 
 much declined by fair ladies, old age : may she 
 live to be very old, and yet seem young, be told 
 so by her glass, and have no aches to inform 
 her of the truth : and when she shall appear to 
 be mortal, may her Lord not mourn for her, but 
 go ha"nS in hand with her to that place where 
 we are told there is neither marrying nor giving 
 in marriage, that being there divorced we may 
 all have an equal interest in her again. My 
 revenge being immortal, I wish all this may also 
 befall their posterity to the world's end, and 
 afterwards. 
 
 To you. Madam, I wish all good things, and 
 that this loss may in good time be happily 
 supplied with a more constant bed-fellow of the 
 
XXX EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 opposite sex. Madam, I humbly kiss your 
 hand, and beg pardon for this trouble, from 
 " Your Ladyship's most humble Servant, 
 " E. Waller." 
 
 Thus ends the Sacharissa episode in Waller's 
 life, and if one is disposed to take offence at 
 the manner in which he applied to himself the 
 story of Phosbus and Daphne, and the conceit 
 of his declaration that 
 
 " what he sung in liis immortal strain, 
 Though unsuccessful was not sung in vain," 
 
 it can only be said that so far at least his 
 remarkable confidence has been justified. How- 
 ever genuine his passion for Lady Dorothy, we 
 may be sure that his vanity would prevent him 
 from suffering to any serious extent for her loss, 
 and the story of his voyage and shipwreck on 
 the Bermudas may be dismissed, resting as it 
 does on nothing but the vaguest tradition. There 
 is on p. 75 a poem headed " When he was at 
 sea," but it is probable that Waller was no more 
 responsible for the title of this, than he was for 
 those of many other sets of verses which 
 appeared among his poems after his death. 
 
 The year 1640 saw Waller again returned to 
 Parliament as member for Amersham : aa 
 account of the circumstances under which the 
 House met on April 13 belongs rather to the 
 history of England than to a brief review of the 
 life of any individual. Though it fully deserved 
 its title of "Short," during the few weeks that 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxxi 
 
 this Parliament' sat Waller gave unmistakable 
 ^gns of the nature of his political creed. He 
 was at heart a courtier, and if his relationship "^ 
 to John Hampden caused him, for a time, to 
 throw in his lot with the popular party, he never 
 forgot to speak of the King in terms of exag- 
 gerated respect : of innovations of any sort he 
 had a natural horror, and the immediate pros- 
 pect of a serious change in the constitution of 
 Church or State was enough to throw him into 
 the arms of those who opposed it. 
 
 On April 22 he made his first great speech 
 in the House, upon the question of Supply, 
 characterized by Johnson as " one of those noisy 
 speeches which disaffection and discontent 
 regularly dictate ; a speech filled with hyper- 
 bolical complaints of imaginary grievances." 
 The reality of the grievances of which Waller 
 complained is hardly open to discussion, and 
 upon the tone of his speech one may well differ 
 even with Dr. Johnson. Their presence in that 
 House, says the poet, after such a long inter- 
 mission of parliaments, is sufficient evidence of 
 his Majesty's occasions for money : let them 
 give the lie to those who would have dissuaded 
 him from calling them together, and let them 
 prove to him that no new way of government is 
 so ready or so safe for the advancement of his 
 affairs as that ancient and constitutional way, 
 by Parliaments. They must do their best even 
 at that stage to comply with his Majesty's 
 
xxxii EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 desires, in the face of the dangers that threaten 
 them, but they have a duty to those whom they 
 represent — the rights of liberty and of property 
 are sacred — if these be not restored to the 
 people, no evils that threaten can have any 
 terrors for them, they are undone already. The 
 King will surely restore these rights, for what 
 thtey have suffered they have suffered at the 
 hands of his ministers, else how comes it that 
 there was never king better beloved and never 
 people more dissatisfied with the ways of levy- 
 ing money ? The King must be told the truth, 
 more particularly concerning those ecclesiastics 
 who would persuade him that his monarchy is 
 absolute, a form of government unheard of in 
 this nation. They all know the dangers of 
 innovations, though to the better,— why should 
 so good a king be exposed to the trouble and 
 hazard of them, no, let him restore to his people 
 their fundamental liberties and the property of 
 their goods, and he will see that the House will 
 make more than ordinary haste to satisfy his 
 demands. — Further evidence of Waller's con- 
 ciliatory attitude is afforded by the story which 
 the writer ofhis "Life"(i7ii) tells in connection 
 with this Parliament. The King, it appears, 
 had sent to Waller to ask him to second in the 
 House his demand for supplies, and though the 
 poet was unable to do this, he strongly remon- 
 strated with Sir Thomas Jermyn, the Comp- 
 troller of the Household, for allowing to pass 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxxiii 
 
 uncontradicted a statement of Sir Henry Vane, 
 that the King would accept no vote that did not 
 come up to his demand : " I " said the poet, "am 
 but a country gentleman, and cannot pretend to 
 know the King's mind." Sir Thomas, however, 
 was silent, and years afterwards, his son, the 
 Earl of St. Albans, told Waller that his father's 
 cowardice had ruined the King. This Parlia- 
 ment was dissolved May 5, and with that 
 which followed we enter upon the most 
 momentous period of Waller's life. In the 
 Long Parliament, which met Nov. 3, 1640, 
 Waller was returned for St. Ives. He obtained 
 this seat through the resignation of Lord Lisle, 
 who preferred to sit for Yarmouth, in the Isle 
 of Wight, for which he had also been elected. 
 In the attack on the Earl of Strafford which 
 followed the meeting of Parliament, Waller 
 abandoned the party of Pym and his adherents. 
 It being alleged that the Earl had attempted to 
 subvert " the fundamental laws of the realm," 
 Waller characteristically asked in the House, 
 what these " fundamental laws " were, and was 
 told by Maynard, for his pains, that if he did 
 not know, he had no business to sit there. 
 
 According to his own account of the Earl of 
 Strafford's case, given many years afterwards, 
 a state of terror prevailed among the members, 
 " a fellow upon a barrell in Westminster Hall 
 proclaimed all traitors that gave votes for him " 
 — he himself was one that did, atid he was ill 
 
xxxiv EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 consequence obliged to pass himself off on the 
 mob as Sir Arthur Hazelrigg. 
 
 In the debate upon the Ecclesiastical 
 Petitions, Feb. 1641, Waller drew tighter the 
 bonds which united him to such men as 
 Falkland and Hyde. 
 
 His speech upon the Abolition of Episcopacy 
 has been praised by Johnson as cool, firm, and 
 reasonable, though in reality the spirit of it is 
 absolutely consistent with that which imbued 
 his previous speech upon the question of 
 Supply. He was not an opponent of ship- 
 money because he wished to substitute the 
 power of the people for the prerogative of the 
 King, but because it was an irregular method of 
 raising money, an innovation : similarly, he did 
 not oppose the abolition of episcopacy because 
 he thought his action would be agreeable either 
 to Bishops or to King, but because he saw in the 
 blow aimed at the former an attempt to alter 
 the constitution of the Church, in fine, another 
 innovation. Doubtless, he said, this and that 
 poor man has suffered at the hands of the 
 Bishops, but may you not soon be presented 
 with thousands of instances of poor men who 
 have received hard measure from their land- 
 lords ? Scripture, it is said, points out another 
 form of church-government : I will not dispute 
 it in this place, but I am confident that when- 
 ever an equal division of lands and goods shall 
 be desired, there will be as many places in 
 
introduction: xxxv 
 
 Scripture found out, which seem to favour that, 
 as there are now alleged against the Prelacy or 
 preferment in the Church. We have already 
 curbed the power of the Bishops, let us not by 
 acceding to this petition for the abolition of 
 their office lead the people to think that if they 
 but ask in troops we must deny them nothing. 
 Let our answer be nolumus vtutare. — Neither 
 his action in the matter of the impeachment of 
 Strafford, nor his speech on behalf of epis- 
 copacy, deprived Waller of the confidence 
 of the popular leaders, and he was chosen to 
 carry up to the House of Lords the articles of 
 impeachment against Sir Francis Crawley, whose 
 judgment and extra-judicial opinions upon the 
 question of ship-money had rendered him 
 particularly obnoxious to the Commons. It 
 was probably thought that his relationship to 
 Hampden would add a bitterness to his natural 
 eloquence, and he appears to have realized the 
 expectations of the most exacting. His speech, 
 in presenting the charge, was delivered at a 
 conference of both Houses in the Painted 
 Chamber, July 6, 1641. It is unnecessary even 
 1 3 summarize it ; Waller had joined in the groans 
 which greeted the judgment in the Exchequer, 
 and the position he took up with regard to 
 ship-money was that of every opponent of the 
 tax since its institution. His oration had 
 evidently been most carefully prepared, but the 
 scriptural and classical quotations and illustra- 
 
xxx^i EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 tions, numerous even for Waller, give it a tone 
 altogether too academic for the occasion, and 
 deprive it of any appearance of natural indigna- 
 tion in the speaker : it was, however, immensely 
 popular among the poet's contemporaries, 
 and twenty thousand copies of it ate said to 
 have been sold in one day. Waller's speeches 
 in the House during the months that immedi- 
 ately followed his attack upon Crawley have not 
 been preserved, but the following extract from a 
 letter (dated Oct. 29, 1641) from Sir Edward 
 Nicholas to the King leaves no doubt as to their 
 tendency. " I may not forbeare," the Secretary 
 writes, " to let yo' Ma'= know, that the Lo^ : 
 Falkland, S' Jo. Strangwishe, M' Waller, M'^ 
 Ed. Hide and M' Holbome and diverse others 
 stood as Champions in maynten'nce of yo"^ 
 Prerogative, and shewed for it unaunswerable 
 reason and undenyable p^sidents, whereof yo' 
 Ma"° shall doe well to take some notice (as yC 
 Ma"' shall thinke best) for their encouragem't." 
 Upon the letter Charles has written, " I 
 comande you to doe it in my name telling 
 them that I will doe it myselfe at my return." 
 
 Before the end of the year Waller was in- 
 volved in a direct conflict with Pym. The 
 incident took place on the 5th of November, 
 upon the occasion of settling the instructions 
 for the committee on the subject of requesting 
 the assistance of Scotland in suppressing the 
 Irish Rebellion. Pym proposed to add a 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxxvii 
 
 declaration that "howsoever we had engaged 
 ourselves for the assistance of Ireland, yet 
 unless the King would remove his evil coun- 
 sellors and take such counsellors as might be 
 approved of by Parliament, we should account 
 ourselves absolved from this engagement." 
 This, Waller said, was but little removed from < 
 the advice that the Earl of Strafford had given 
 the King, that if Parliament did not relieve 
 him, he was absolved from all rules of govern- 
 ment. Pym took exception to the comparison. 
 Waller was ordered to withdraw, and the matter 
 having been debated in his absence, he was 
 called in and told by the Speaker that " the 
 House holds it fit that in his place he should 
 acknowledge his offence given by his words both 
 to the House in general and to Mr. Pym in 
 particular : which he did ingenuously and ex- 
 pressed his sorrow for it." 
 
 It is apparently to this period that Clarendon's 
 first mention of Waller relates. The Chancellor, 
 for whatever reason, was no friend to the poet, 
 and his testimony has coloured the accounts of 
 later biographers. " When," he says, " the rup- 
 tures grew so great between the King and the 
 two Houses, that very many of the members 
 withdrew from those Councils, he, among the 
 rest, with equal dislike absented himself ; but 
 at the time the Standard was set up, {Aug. 2^, 
 1642) having intimacy and friendship with some 
 persons now of nearness about the King, with 
 
xxxviii EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 the Kingf's approbation he returned again to 
 London." This is distinctly contradicted by 
 Waller's own statement, communicated by his 
 son-in-law, Dr. Birch, to the writer of his " Life " 
 ( 171 1), and in any case it cannot be correct as 
 to date, for he was certainly in his place in the 
 House on July 9th, opposing the proposition that 
 Parliament should raise an army of 10,000 men. 
 He is said to have sent the King a thousand 
 broad pieces when he raised his Standard at 
 Nottingham. Clarendon gives him credit for 
 subsequently speaking in the House " upon all 
 occasions with great sharpness and freedom;" 
 indeed, when some of the members declared 
 that they were not allowed to express their 
 sentiments freely, they were told that that was 
 an idle allegation, " when all men knew what 
 liberty Mr. Waller took, and spoke every day 
 with impunity against the sense and proceedings 
 of the House." In spite of his open declaration 
 of his sentiments, it has been charged against 
 Waller that he chose to sit and act the dis- 
 honourable part of a spy on behalf of the King, 
 instead of taking active service in the field. 
 The fact is. Waller had no real aptitude for 
 politics, and no very deep political convictions : 
 he found in the House of Commons a convenient 
 theatre for the display of his remarkable 
 eloquence, and his advocacy of the King's 
 interests was well in accord with the selfish 
 promptings of a rich man who has everytliing 
 
INTRODUCTION. xxxix 
 
 to lose and nothing to gain by innovation : he 
 was " impatient," as he afterwards said " of the 
 inconvenience of the war," he looked upon things 
 with " a carnal eye " ; and he considered that 
 nothing would so surely conduce to his personal 
 comfort as an arrangement between the parties. 
 When, therefore, on Oct. 29, the Lords proposed 
 to negotiate with the King, one is not surprised 
 to find his voice raised two days later in urgent 
 appeal to the Commons to join them. The 
 year 1643 opened with every prospect of the 
 realization of his hopes. In January the desire 
 of the City for peace had been manifested by 
 petitions and clamorous assemblies, and on 
 Feb. I Charles accorded a gracious reception 
 to the Commissioners appointed by the House 
 to treat with him. 
 
 When Waller, who was one of them, came, 
 last of all in order of precedence, to kiss his 
 hand, the King said to him, " Mr. Waller, 
 though you are the last, yet you are not the 
 worst, nor the least in our favour." Deep signi- 
 ficance has been attached to these words : it 
 has been suggested, on the one hand, that they 
 betrayed a knowledge on the part of the King 
 that Waller was already plotting some secret 
 design on his behalf; on the other, that this 
 " affectionate reproof" so wrought upon the poet 
 that he was thereupon led to engage himself. 
 Injudicious as it was, upon any view of it, I see 
 no reason to suppose that this speech was any 
 
xl EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 more than an acknowledgment, possibly that 
 promised in the indorsement on Nicholas's 
 letter, of open services in the House of Com- 
 mons. It is impossible now to ascertain the 
 date of the inception of " Waller's Plot," but it is 
 significant that the Commission of Array, of 
 which so much was afterwards made, is dated 
 March i6, nearly a month before the recall of 
 the Commissioners from Oxford, and that both 
 Tomkins and Chaloner, in their dying 
 speeches, declared that they had taken part in 
 the conspiracy at the instigation of Waller. 
 
 An attempt has been made to distinguish the 
 enterprise which bears the poet's name from 
 another design, said to have been set on foot 
 about the same time by Sir Nicholas Crispe. 
 Waller's object, it has been said, was to render 
 the continuance of the war impossible by raising 
 up in the City a peace-party strong enough to 
 defy the House and to refuse to pay the weekly 
 assessments, while Crispe intended nothing less 
 than the capture of London by force of arms. 
 No doubt, the dissatisfaction which many felt 
 at the failure of the petition for peace and the 
 continuance of the weekly impositions, afforded 
 favourable ground to build upon (it was said 
 that the King's friends had fomented the dis- 
 content by urging the citizens to carry their 
 grievances to the Committee at Haberdashers' 
 Hall, well knowing they would get no relief), 
 and perhaps some of the conspirators, Waller 
 
INTRODUCTION. xli 
 
 among them, expected, or rather hoped, that 
 their object would be attained without blood- 
 shed ; but however varied their hopes and ex- 
 pectations as to the issue, there can be no doubt 
 that there was but one design, the securing of 
 the City of London, and that that received its 
 ■inspiration from the advisers of the King at 
 Oxford ; even Waller himself, at the Bar of the 
 House, did not attempt to deny that he knew of 
 the proposal to resort to arms, he only said he 
 " disallowed and rejected it." Though he was 
 probably speaking the truth when he said he 
 " made not this business but found it" — he was 
 not a man of sufficiently determined and inde- 
 pendent character to have originated such an 
 enterprise— he was undoubtedly at the head of 
 operations in London. He procured Nathaniel 
 Tomkins, Clerk of the Queen's Counsel, who 
 had married his sister Cecilia, and Richard 
 Chaloner, a wealthy linen-draper, to take the 
 necessary steps among the citizens, while he 
 himself undertook to forward the project among 
 the members of the two Houses. Hassell, 
 one of the King's messengers, and Alexander 
 Hampden were to take advantage of those 
 occasions when they came up from Oxford 
 with "gracious messages" from Charles to the 
 Parliament, to carry back with them to Lord 
 Falkland news of the progress of the enter- 
 prise. 
 
 Hassell appears to have been "horsed" by 
 
xHi EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 Waller, and in the intervals of his service to 
 have lain at the poet's house at Beaconsfield. 
 It fell to the lot of Chaloner, Tomkins, and 
 others whom they had engaged, to make lists 
 of the inhabitants of the various parishes, 
 marking them according to their dispositions, 
 as Right-men, Roundheads, and Neuter?. 
 Tomkins appears to have ascertained the feel- 
 ing in his own parish, St. Andrew's, Holbom, 
 by introducing an Irish bishop as lecturer, 
 and then calling meetings at his house for the 
 pretended purpose of gathering subscriptions to 
 reward him. 
 
 These lists, when completed, were taken to 
 Waller, who was then living in the neighbour- 
 hood of his brother-in-law, at the lower end of 
 Holbom, near Hatton House. It was obvious 
 that nothing could be done without the sinews 
 of war, and accordingly Hassell was despatched 
 to Oxford, and returned with an authority, dated 
 May 2, addressed to Chaloner, to receive sub- 
 scriptions of money and plate on behalf of 
 the King, who bound himself to repay them. 
 On May 19, Alexander Hampden arrived, 
 ostensibly to demand from the Parliament 
 an answer to the King's message of April 12, 
 and in his company came Lady Daubigny, 
 bringing with her the Commission of Array, 
 dated March 16, and having attached to it the 
 Great Seal. It is said to have been handed to 
 her by Charles himself, with the intimation that 
 
INTRODUCTION. xliii 
 
 it was something that greatly concerned his 
 service, of which she would be relieved upon 
 her arrival in London. According to one ac- 
 count, she concealed it, during the journey, in 
 her hair, according to another, in the crown of 
 a beaver hat. It was directed to Sir Nicholas 
 Crispe, among others, and a former servant of 
 his, one Blinkhorne, a clerk in the Custom 
 House, fetched it from Lady Daubigny, and 
 delivered it to Chaloner. At various times 
 during the progress of the plot Waller had 
 assured the citizens that they would have the 
 co-operation of many members of both Houses, 
 but he excused himself from giving their names 
 on the plea of an oath he had taken, not to 
 reveal them till the time of action. The con- 
 spirators proposed to rise, if possible, when the 
 outworks were guarded by such of the trained 
 bands as contained the greatest proportion of 
 men friendly to themselves, to seize upon the 
 defences of the City, the magazines, and the 
 Tower, from which they intended to liberate the 
 Earl of Bath, and make him their general. The 
 King, having been warned of the day, and, if 
 possible, of the hour of the rising, was to be 
 within fifteen miles with a force of three 
 thousand men, which was to be admitted as 
 soon as any part of the defences was in the 
 hands of his friends. His two children 
 were to be secured, and also the Lord 
 Mayor, Lord Saye, Lord Wharton, Pym, 
 
 3 
 
xHv EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 Strode, and other members of the House ol 
 Commons. 
 
 On Friday, May 26, there was a meeting of 
 the conspirators at Waller's house, when 
 Chaloner flatly told him that the citizens had 
 done their part, and that until they were assured 
 of the co-operation of the Lords, of whom he 
 had spoken, either by a meeting with them or 
 by writing under their hands, they would 
 proceed no farther in the business. Waller 
 hastened to reassure him, and submitted to him 
 a series of questions, which he had, so he said, 
 just received from one of those very Lords — he 
 afterwards said he had them from Conway, and 
 they are just such as his military instincts wou'd 
 have been likely to dictate. The citizens went 
 off with the list of questions and returned to 
 Waller, the next morning, with their answers. 
 
 It appears from these that the conspirators 
 calculated upon having a majority of three to 
 one against them within the walls, but a 
 similar majority in their favour outside : but one 
 third of their whole force would be fully armed, 
 the remainder with halberds and such weapons 
 as they could lay their hands on : they had 
 ascertained the situations ofthe magazines, but 
 doubted of their ability to capture the Tower : 
 they intended to distinguish themselves by 
 wearing pieces of white tape or ribbon, and the 
 watch-word was to be " The India ship is in 
 the Downs " : the time at which the attempt 
 
INTRODUCTION. xlv 
 
 should be made, and the rendezvous, they left to 
 be determined by the Lords, who were also to 
 fix upon a place, Blackheath and Banstead 
 were" suggested, to which they could retreat 
 if necessary. Waller drew up a declara- 
 tion, which began, " We, the Knights, Gentle- 
 men, Citizens, Burgesses and Commons of 
 England," and went on to assert that " the cause 
 of their taking up arms was to maintain the 
 true reformed Protestant Religion against all 
 Papists and Sectaries, the Laws of the Land, 
 Privilege of Parliament, and Liberty of the 
 Subject, and to oppose all illegal Taxations, 
 Assessments, and the like." This was to be 
 printed and posted, or otherwise distributed upon 
 the night of the rising. Matters were considered 
 to be in such a satisfactory state, that Hassell 
 was again despatched in the afternoon of May 
 29 with a message to Falkland, who returned a 
 verbal answer, begging them to hasten the 
 execution of their enterprise. Hassell appears 
 to have rarely carried any written communica- 
 tions, but on this occasion he had a few lines 
 of instruction in Latin, which are said to have 
 been sewn in his saddle by Mrs. Tomkins's 
 raaid. On the night of Tuesday, May 30, 
 Waller, after speaking with great confidence 
 in the House, returned home with his brother- 
 in-law in high glee — " By God ! " he cried, 
 " if we can bring to pass this business, 
 we will have anything ! " Before morning, 
 
xM EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 he and the other conspirators were under 
 arrest. 
 
 Various causes seem to have combined to 
 arouse the suspicions of the popular leaders. 
 An imprudent letter, possibly brought by 
 Hampden, from the Earl of Dover to his wife, 
 warning her to leave London, had fallen into 
 the hands of the Committee, and several days 
 before the actual discovery of the plot Lord 
 Denbigh had told them of hints which he had 
 received that it would be better for him to retire 
 to the country. On May 23, Hampden had 
 asked for a pass to return to Oxford, but this, 
 after a conference between the two Houses on 
 the following day, had been refused, and he was 
 detained, how, it is not said, to be examined 
 upon some informations they had received. It 
 had also been predicted by one, who had it from 
 Hassell, that in ten days London would be in 
 flames : the fact that Hassell was known to be 
 on terms of familiarity with Waller and Tom- 
 kins directed attention to them, and finally the 
 Earl of Manchester and Lord Saye succeeded 
 in bribing one Roe, Tomkins's clerk, and it was 
 upon his information that the poet and his 
 friends were arrested. The Earl of Dover's 
 letter had been publicly read at a committee of 
 examination, and the substance of it reported 
 to the House, and this, with the arrest of 
 Hampden, D'Ewes thinks, ought to have put 
 Waller on his guard, more particularly as he 
 
INTRODUCTION. xlvii 
 
 had fallen under suspicion some months pre- 
 viously, when some saddles, which he had 
 bought, were found at his house and confiscated. 
 It was obviously the cue of the popular party, 
 once they had the conspirators under lock and 
 key, to make as much as possible of their dis- 
 covery, and one cannot help suspecting that the 
 manner of its announcement was arranged with 
 an eye to effect. 'Wednesday, May 31, being a 
 Fast Day, the members were assembled, as 
 usual, in St. Margaret's Church, Westminster, 
 when the service was interrupted by the sudden 
 entrance of the Speaker's mace -bearer, who 
 summoned Pytn and some of the others to follow 
 him at once to the House. The wildest rumours 
 were circulated, and the general belief was that 
 the Danes had landed in Kent, and, before 
 night, might be expected in London. Gradually 
 the truth leaked out, and it became known that 
 a plot had been discovered, that the prisons and 
 Laud's chamber in the Tower had been searched, 
 and that Waller, Tomkins, Chaloner, Hampden, 
 Hassell, Blinkhorne, Abbot, a scrivener, and 
 White, a merchant, had been arrested. A com- 
 mittee of the House, consisting of Pym, Sir 
 Gilbert Gerard, young Sir Harry Vane, the 
 Solicitor General, and Glyn, the Recorder of 
 London, was at once appointed to take such 
 measures as they might think best for the public 
 safety. The greatest reticence was maintained, 
 and it was not until June 6 that Pym brought 
 
xlviii EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 up to the House of Commons the report of the 
 Committee, and their recommendations, which 
 included the " Solemn League and Covenant." 
 He repeated his account of the plot to the Lords 
 on the following day, and again on the afternoon 
 of Thursday the 8th, at a Common Hall, sum- 
 moned by the Lord Mayor. 
 
 It is impossible to maintain that Waller 
 played any but an ignoble part in the trans- 
 actions which followed, but his conduct has 
 lost none of its meanness in the hands of 
 Lord Clarendon. Confounded, he says, with 
 fear and apprehension, Mr. Waller "confessed 
 whatever he had said, heard, thought, or seen, 
 all that he knew of himself, and all that he 
 suspected of others, without concealing any 
 person of what degree or quality soever, or any 
 discourse that he had ever upon any occasion 
 entertained with them : what such and such 
 ladies of great honour, to whom, upon the 
 credit of his great wit, and very good reputa- 
 tion, he had been admitted, had spoke to him 
 in their chambers of the proceedings in the 
 Houses ; and how they had encouraged him to 
 oppose them : what correspondence and inter- 
 course they had with some ministers of State 
 at Oxford ; and how they derived all intelli- 
 gence thither.'' He informed them, "that the 
 Earl of Portland and Lord Conway had been 
 particular in all the agitations which had been 
 with the citizens, and had given frequent advice, 
 
INTRODUCTION. xlix 
 
 and directions how they should demean them- 
 selv<s; and that the Earl of Northumberland, 
 had expressed very good wishes to any attempt, 
 that might give a stop to the violent actions 
 and proceedings of the Houses, and produce a 
 good understanding with the King." He goes 
 on to say, "When the Committee were thus 
 furnished, they took the examination of Mr. 
 Tomkins," &c. Now, there is no evidence 
 whatever, except this statement, that the first 
 confession came from Waller ; on the contrary, 
 the accounts of those who were on the spot 
 rather go to show that Clarendon is as inaccu- 
 rate in the main charge as he most certainly is 
 in its details. D'Ewes says that Waller was 
 " drawn after much tergiversation and shuffling 
 to confess his own guilt," and he records, 
 quoting Glyn's speech in the House, that 
 " Mrs. Challenor said that a little after Mr. 
 Waller was taken there was come to her a Lady 
 in a hired coach and given herself a fained 
 name and told her she was like to come in 
 great danger about a writing in parchment to 
 which there hung a great seale, and desired her 
 if she had it in her custody shee would deliver 
 it to her, and when the said Mrs. Challenor told 
 her that it had been lately fetcht away in a 
 blacke box, shee then desired her if she could 
 use any possible meanes to come to her husband, 
 shee should go to him and tell him that Mr. 
 Waller had confessed nothing, and that there- 
 
/ EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 fore shee should persuade him to doe the like. 
 That the said Mrs. Challenor was since brought 
 to see the Lady Aubigny and affirmed that it 
 was the same Lady who came to her in the 
 hackney coach." The suggestion that some 
 members of the Upper House were privy to the 
 design must have come originally from some 
 person other than Waller, for when it was put 
 to him, he denied upon oath that he had com- 
 municated with any of the Lords upon the 
 subject. So.me sort of inducement was no 
 doubt held out to him to tell all he knew, and 
 it is even possible that he was " troubled in 
 Conscience for his solemn professing in the 
 presence of God that he had not spoke with 
 any of the Lords concerning this designe, when 
 he was examined, and yet had done it," but in 
 any case, it was not till June 12 that he men- 
 tioned the names of Portland and Conway, 
 and, a fortnight later, that of the Earl of North- 
 umberland, and in his speech at the Bar of 
 the House he confessed that at first he had 
 concealed some truth, not for his own sake, but 
 that of others. The only ladies who were called 
 to account, for their share in the plot, were 
 Lady Daubigny and Lady Sophia Murray, and 
 the evidence Waller gave against them was 
 incidental to his charge against the Lords. 
 Lady Daubigny, he said, had fallen out with 
 him, when she heard from Portland that he 
 (Waller) had told him that she had brought the 
 
INTRODUCTION. li 
 
 Commission of Array; and he had helped Lady 
 Sophia Murray to decipher a letter from Falk- 
 land, in which Northumberland was said to be 
 "right" in the business. Lady Daubigny 
 remained under arrest for some time, but she 
 was eventually allowed to cross to Holland 
 without having been further proceeded against, 
 while Lady Sophia Murry died before the end 
 of September : she had refused to take an oath 
 and be examined by the Committee, saying she 
 " did not mean to give an account to such fellows 
 as they were." On June 12, Portland and 
 Conway were committed to the charge of some 
 of the City oflScials, but the House of Lords 
 appears, from the first, to have made light of 
 the charge against them. On the next day 
 their servants were allowed to attend on them, 
 and before they were confronted with Waller, 
 on June 29, the Lords had taken the precau- 
 tion to discount his evidence by having them 
 both examined upon oath. They denied the 
 truth of all his allegations, and Portland 
 declared that at an interview, on June 21, at 
 the house where he was confined, Waller had 
 urged him to save them both, by casting the 
 blame upon Conway and Norihumberland. No 
 one who has read the intercepted letter^ which 
 the poet wrote to Portland can have any 
 reasonable doubt of the truth of his accusation, 
 but it was simply oath against oath, and there 
 
 1 Saiidford's " Illustrations," p. 563. 
 
lit EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 the Committee were obliged to leave the matter. 
 During the succeeding weeks both the accused 
 were continually petitioning for their release, and 
 the Commons, having no further evidence to 
 offer, were at last, on July 29, obliged to leave it 
 to the Lords to free them or not, as they deemed 
 advisable. They were both admitted to bail on 
 July 31, and in Augu=t of the following year all 
 restrictions upon their movements were at 
 an end. Waller's allegation against North- 
 umberland amounted to no more than this — 
 that he had told him of the existence of the 
 plot, which he said " he disliked as a thing 
 not feasible or like to succeed : " a speech 
 so characteristic of the Earl as to leave little 
 doubt of its truth. He, however, scoffed 
 at the charge, and desired to be examined 
 immediately, that "his innocence may the sooner 
 appear and he not lie under a jealousy." He 
 was confronted with Waller, who failed to make 
 good his deposition, " soe as,'' D'Ewes writes, 
 " this noble Earle, descended by the Dukes of 
 Lorraine in the male line from Charlemaign the 
 Emperour, was noe further questioned in this 
 folish busines.'' It is easy to be righteously 
 indignant over Waller's conduct, and impossible 
 to present any adequate defence of it. This 
 much at least should be remembered in con- 
 demning him — it has never, so far as I know, 
 been asserted, except, of course, by the persons 
 immediately concerned, that the information he 
 
INTRODUCTION. liii 
 
 gave was untrue, he was not endeavouring to 
 "swear away" the lives of others to save his 
 own, nor had he the abject's craving for company 
 at the gallows : he struggled to deliver himself 
 from the jaws of death, by involving in his guilt, 
 men, in his opinion, as guilty as himself, who, 
 as they were too exalted to fall beneath the 
 attack of the Commons, so, might in his des- 
 perate hope, be the means of preserving his life 
 together with their own. 
 
 Whatever may be the opinions entertained as 
 to the " incredible dissimulation " with which 
 Waller " acted a remorse of conscience," a mere 
 recital of events is sufficient to prove that 
 Clarendon is in error, in saying that his trial 
 was " put off out of Christian compassion that 
 he might recover his understanding." 
 
 The commission, from the Earl of Essex, for 
 the trial of the prisoners by Martial Law, 
 reached London on June 26, but so unwilling 
 were the members of the House of Commons 
 to take part in the proceedings of the Council 
 of War that it was necessary for Glyn, upon the 
 authority of Dr. Dorislaus, the Judge Advocate 
 General, to assure them of its regularity. On 
 June 29, it was resolved that Waller should first 
 be brought to the Bar, though the other con- 
 spirators were to be tried on the following 
 Monday. The Court, under the presidency of 
 the Earl of Manchester, assembled on Friday, 
 June 30, when all the prisoners, with the excep- 
 
Iw EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 tion of Waller, were paraded. On Monday, 
 July 3, Tomkins and Chaloner were brought up, 
 and though the former begged for some delay, 
 that he might prepare his defence, having only 
 had notice of his trial on Friday, " which was 
 too short a time as he conceived," the Court 
 " conceived the contrary," and they were both 
 tried and sentenced to be hanged. 
 
 Blinkhorne, White, and Abbot were also tried 
 and condemned within the week — they appear 
 to have been afterwards pardoned — and Hassell 
 and Hampden both died in prison. On July 5, 
 Tomkins and Chaloner were hanged before 
 their own doors, the former at the Holborn end 
 of Fetter Lane, the latter in Cornhill. It would 
 be doing less than justice to a brave man, how- 
 ever poor a figure the poet makes by contrast, 
 to omit to tell how Tomkins died. His de- 
 meanour before the Court had been defiant, and 
 such he maintained it to the end. With the 
 rope about his neck, he said that affection to a 
 brother-in-law and gratitude to a king, whose 
 bread he had eaten now above twenty-two years, 
 had drawn him into this foolish business ; he 
 was glad it had been discovered, for the ill con- 
 sequences it might have had : he begged them 
 not to trouble him, who would have pressed him 
 to declare anything further he knew of that or 
 any other plot, and then, " with much boldness 
 descended three steps lower on the ladder, and 
 so bid adieu to this world." About this time 
 
INTRODUCTION. Iv 
 
 Waller wrote a letter^ to Arthur Goodvvyn, his 
 neighbour and fellow-member, which showed 
 that he was fully alive to the dangers of his 
 position, and on July 4, at the Bar of the House, 
 he gave further proof of being in possession of 
 his understanding. Two of the members were 
 commissioned to repair to the house where he 
 was confined, and to see him safely conveyed 
 into the custody of the Serjeant, who brought 
 him to the Bar. "He was all clothed," writes 
 D'Ewes, " in mourning as if he had been going 
 to execution itself, his demeanour was also com- 
 posed to a despairing dejectedness, and when 
 he came to the Bar, he kneeled down, and so 
 continued kneeling, until myself and some others 
 
 who stood near the Bar bade him stand up 
 
 divers of the House seeing his sad and dejected 
 condition whom they had formerly beard speak 
 in public with so much applause, could not for- 
 bear shedding of tears." His depositions having 
 been presented to him, and their contents 
 acknowledged to be true, he was called upon to 
 say what he could for himself before they pro- 
 ceeded to expel him the House, " whereupon, 
 after a low reverence made, he spake — expres- 
 sing in his very tone and gesture the lowest 
 degree of a dejected spirit." Of Waller's sin- 
 cerity I cannot presume to judge— he knew 
 his audience, probably to a man, and for 
 his speech, considered as a piece of 
 
 ^ Nugent's "Hampden," ii. 419. 
 
Im EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 advocacy, no praise is too high ; indeed, 
 even Clarendon does not hesitate to say that it 
 saved his hfe. He is reported to have expended 
 as much as ;£3o,ooo in bribery, but I can only 
 say that no traces of any dealing to this extent 
 with his estate remain among the papers in the 
 possession of his family, though there are to be 
 found draft conveyances and mortgages which 
 tell of the means employed to pay his fine some 
 months later. He was taken back to imprison- 
 ment, and on July 14 it was resolved that " Mr. 
 Edm. Waller shall be forthwith disabled for 
 {sic) ever sitting or serving as a member in this 
 House." Discussion upon the manner of his 
 trial was postponed from day to day, and on 
 Sept. 6 he was ordered to be removed to the 
 Tower, an order which was repeated, in more 
 stringent terms, on Sept. 14. On May 15 of the 
 following year, " the humble petition of Edm. 
 Waller late a member of this House" was read 
 in the House of Commons — this was probably 
 a petition to be allowed to put his affairs in 
 order — and on Aug. 29 preparations were appar- 
 ently being made for his trial by Court Martial, 
 but they were not proceeded with, and on Sept. 23 
 comes another petition from " Edm. Waller, 
 prisoner in the Tower." The poet had appar- 
 ently by that time received an intimation that 
 his life would be spared, and that he would be 
 punished by a fine. He " thanks the House 
 for enabling him to put his estate into such a 
 
INTRODUCTION. Mi 
 
 position that he may be able to pay the fine 
 imposed on him ; and is the more hopeful that, 
 in regard of the free and ingenuous confes- 
 sion and discoveries made upon promised 
 favour, the House will hold his life precious : 
 that ;£ 1 0,000 may be accepted out of his estate ; 
 and if he be not worthy to serve the House and 
 spend his life in their glorious cause, that they 
 would be pleased to banish him to some other 
 part of the world." It was agreed, without a 
 division, that his petition should be granted, 
 and it was ordered that the vote of the House 
 should be communicated to the Commissioners 
 for Martial Law. On Nov. 4, "An Ordinance 
 of Lords and Commons assembled in Parlia- 
 ment for the Fining and Banishment of Edmond 
 Waller Esquire," was read and agreed to in the 
 House of Lords. This instrument declares 
 that it was formerly intended that the said 
 Edmond Waller should be tried by Court 
 Martial, but that, "upon further consideration 
 and mature deliberation," it has been " thought 
 convenient " that he should be fined ^10,000 and 
 banished the realm : twenty-eight days, from 
 the 6th of November, are given him to 
 remove elsewhere : no further proceedings will 
 be taken against him, but he is not to return 
 to this country upon pain of incurring such 
 punishment as both Houses of Parliament shall 
 think fit." 
 Thus closed this incident in Waller's life : his 
 
Iviii EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 conduct does not seem to have made him less 
 welcome among the exiles in France, and in after 
 years he himself did not hesitate to treat the part 
 he had played, as that of a martyr. The date of 
 his departure is uncertain, but it seems likely that 
 he stayed in England long enough to marry 
 his second wife, Mary Bracey, of the family 
 of that name, of Thame in Oxfordshire : he was 
 still a widower when he appeared at the Bar of 
 the House, and his eldest daughter by his second 
 marriage, Margaret, afterwards his amanuensis, 
 is known to have been born at Rouen. His son 
 Robert, who died young, for some time had 
 Hobbes for his tutor, while his daughter was 
 left in charge of her grandmother at Beacons- 
 field, whence, no doubt, supplies were sent to 
 maintain the poet and his family in France. Of 
 the details of his life on the continent we can 
 only catch a glimpse here and there in the 
 letters of himself and his friends. In August, 
 164.5, Hobbes is writing to him at Calais : the 
 philosopher is staying at Rouen with Lord 
 Devonshire, and after telling the poet how he 
 has been spending his time in arguing for the 
 amusement of the company, he goes on to say, 
 " I beleeve you passe much of yours in meditat- 
 ing how you may to your contentment and 
 without blame passe the seas." He ends by 
 thanking him for having expressed a wish to 
 translate the " De Give" into English, a 
 project which Waller is said to have abandoned 
 
INTRODUCTION. lix 
 
 on seeing a portion of the work translated by 
 the author himself. 
 
 Next year he is touring with Evelyn in Italy 
 and Switzerland, and in 1647 we hear of him at 
 St. Valery. In 1648 he writes to Evelyn from- 
 Pont de I'Arche, whither he had removed from 
 Rouen on account of the plague, announcing 
 the birth of a daughter, and in April of the fol- 
 lowing year he and his wife are at Rouen once 
 more. Towards the end of the year they appear 
 to have removed to Paris, and to have resided 
 there until their return to England. Waller 
 and Lord Jermyn, amid the general poverty of 
 the exiles, are said to have been the only people 
 able " to keep a table,'' though the former gave 
 out that he was living upon the proceeds of the 
 sale of his wife's jewels. He was in constant 
 communication with the members of the English 
 colony, and particularly with Evelyn: — now he 
 consults him as to what is to be done with a 
 child of his whom the Popish midwife had 
 baptized, and now he begs him to send a coach 
 from Paris to St. Germains to fetch a child, to 
 whom Mrs. Evelyn had been godmother, " to be 
 buried by the Common Prayer." All this time' 
 his mother, often in the company of Cromwell, 
 was watching and working on his behalf in 
 England. Only one of her letters to him has 
 survived. Addressing him as " deer ned," she 
 tells him his daughter is grown so handsome, 
 that there are already several suitors for her 
 
 4 
 
Ix EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 hand, two of whom had been to see her (Mrs. 
 Waller) that week, one a knight of very good 
 fortune, the other Alderman Avery's eldest son. 
 She tells the poet what she has learned of the 
 '■ prospects " of these gentlemen, and only waits 
 for his reply, — what will he give his daughter ? 
 The Alderman's son might be had, she thinks, 
 for ^2,000, if he intends to give so much. " I 
 am not in hast," she writes, " to mary hir, she is 
 yong enough to stay, but the danger is if she 
 should catch the small poxe or hir beauty should 
 change, it would be a great lose to hir." Tlien 
 follow details about the estate, this lease, and 
 that bond, and she ends, " I pray faile not to 
 writ a full answer to all in this letter, so praying 
 god to bles yi & y wife, I rest y louing 
 mother Anne Waller, as ever I shall intreat 
 anything of y" writ me an answer as soon as 
 y" can of this letter for I have past my credit 
 they shall haue a speedy answer." What Tvliss 
 Waller's dowery was we have no means of 
 knowing, but she eventually married Mr. Donner 
 of Oxfordshire, and was living, his widow, in 
 1711. 
 
 The manner of the poet's return to England 
 appears to be unceitain. It has hitherto been 
 said that he obtained permission from Cromwell, 
 through the intercession of Col. Scrope, who 
 was his brother-in-law, but on Nov. 27, 1651, 
 the House of Commons, after having heard read 
 '• the humble petition of Edmond Waller," passed 
 
INTRODUCTION. Ixi 
 
 a resolution revoking his sentence of banish- 
 ment, and ordered a pardon under the Great Seal 
 to be prepared for him. Evelyn took leave of 
 him at Paris, on Jan. 13, 1652, and in August of 
 the same year he is writing to the diarist from 
 Beaconsfield, to congratulate him on the birth 
 of a son. We know even less of the course of 
 Waller's life between the date of his return to 
 England and the Restoration. He probably 
 occupied the early days in writing his Panegyric 
 to Cromwell, though it did not reach the Pro- 
 tector till 1655, as the following letter^ proves. 
 
 " Sr. lett it not trouble you that by soe un- 
 happy a mistake you are (as I heare) at North- 
 ampton, indaed I am passionately affected with 
 itt. I have noe guilt upon me unlesse it bee to bee 
 revenged, for your soe willinglye mistakinge 
 mee in your verses. This action will putt you to 
 redeeme mee from your selfe as you haue 
 already from the world. Ashamed I am, ¥"■ 
 freind and Seruant, Oliver P." "June 13th, 1655." 
 
 It is directed " For my very lovinge friend 
 Edward Waller, Esq. Northampton, hast, hast." 
 The mistake, no doubt, arising from his being 
 generally known as " Ned," of calling the poet, 
 " Edward," was by no means unfrequent among 
 his contemporaries, but of the subject-matter 
 of this letter I have no explanation to offer. 
 Waller appears to have lain under some sus- 
 
 1 This letter is in Mr. Waller's possession — it was communi- 
 cated by a relative of his to Notes and Queries^ 2nd Series, v. 2. 
 
Ixii EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 picion after his return ; for writing to Hobbes, 
 some time between 1657 and the Protector's 
 death, he says that he has been at his lodging to 
 see him to give him his opinion of the political 
 situation, which Lord Devonshire had requested, 
 " because he could write nothing safely, wch he 
 (Lord Devonshire) might not find in print." 
 
 In April, 1653, he lost his mother ; this, with 
 the exception of his appointment as one of the 
 Commissioners for Trade in Dec, 1655, is 
 the only fact affecting him which I have been 
 able to discover, down to the time of the death 
 of Cromwell. 
 
 Nothing concerning Waller is better known 
 than that he followed up an elegy on Cromwell 
 with an address of welcome to Charles II., 
 except, perhaps, the famous answer, "Sir, 
 we poets never succeed so well in writing 
 truth as in fiction," by means of which 
 he extricated himself from the difficulty into 
 which the King had put him by commenting 
 on the inferiority of the latter poem to his 
 Panegyric on the Protector. One obvious 
 reason for this inferiority was long ago pointed 
 out, and even in Charles's own time it was well 
 summarized by the Dutch ambassador, who, 
 when the King complained that his masters 
 paid less respect to him than to the Protector, 
 replied, " Ah ! Sir, Oliver was quite another 
 man." Waller appears to have at once 
 entered fully into the new life of the Restora- 
 
INTRODUCTION. Ixiii 
 
 tion, he was graciously received by the King, 
 and he continued till the end of his days a 
 favourite at Court. In May, 1661, having been 
 elected for Hastings, he began a fresh Par- 
 liamentary career, and while he lived, " it was 
 no House if Waller was not there." Burnet 
 says of him that "he was only concerned to 
 say that which should make him applauded, he 
 never laid the business of the House to heart, 
 being a vain and empty, though a witty, man ;" 
 but, though it ,is true that he seldom spoke 
 without delivering himself of an epigram or a 
 more or less appropriate Latin quotation, his 
 conduct in the House was in every way 
 honourable to him. Day after day his voice 
 was raised in appeals for toleration for Dis- 
 senters, more particularly for the Quakers, a 
 body which his son Edmund afterwards 
 joined. He had, he said, " a sense of kind- 
 ness for any persons that suffer," and he 
 would not have the " Church of England, like 
 the elder brother of the Ottoman family, 
 strangle all the younger brothers." He strenu- 
 ously opposed the passing of the Act against 
 Conventicles. " Revenge," said he, " makes 
 the bee lose his sting, and so shall we if we 
 pass this Bill. These people (the Quakers) are 
 like children's tops, whip them and they stand 
 up, let them alone and they fall." He spoke 
 against the removal of the Duke of York from 
 the Court, reminding the House, that Absalom 
 
Ixiv EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 left the Court, and they knew what followed ; 
 but the only really important matter in which 
 he was directly engaged was the impeachment 
 of Clarendon, of which he was one of the 
 "managers." Then, and after Monmouth's 
 Rebellion, he spoke with the greatest horror 
 of the dangers of a military despotism and 
 "government by Janissaries," and Macaulay 
 has praised the course which his gfreat age 
 and reputation emboldened him to take. He 
 was never weary of reminding the Members of 
 his long experience in the House, or of quoting 
 precedents to them — he even insisted upon 
 sitting on the steps, because " steps had been 
 seats and seats steps " in the Long Parliament — 
 and the attitude which he assumed was occa- 
 sionally almost paternal : " Let us look to our 
 Government, Fleet, and Trade, 'tis the best 
 advice the oldest Parliament man among you 
 can give you, and so God bless you." 
 
 In spite of his age and eloquence, Waller 
 never appears to have been in the inner circle 
 of politics after the Restoration, though he is 
 credited with having predicted that James II. 
 " would be left like a whale upon the strand." 
 His literary reputation, however, was at its 
 height, and he and Denham appear to have 
 occupied the position of unofficial dramatic 
 censors, for on March 22, 1663, Secretary Bennet 
 writes to Waller, directing him and Denham to 
 read, and give the King their opinions on " The 
 
INTRODUCTION. Ixv 
 
 Cheats,'' a play which had been recently pro- 
 duced, and objected to as containing "many 
 things of a scandalous and offensive nature." 
 Nor was his fame confined to this country. La 
 Fontaine wrote of him with admiration, and 
 Corneille was flattered to hear that whenever 
 he published a play, Mr. Waller made a point 
 of translating some portion of it. But nothing 
 probably that Waller had written gave him 
 such a hold upon his contemporaries as the 
 charm of his manners and conversation, a 
 charm which Macaulay has compared to that 
 which must have been exercised by Bacon. 
 His transgressions were overlooked, and he 
 was again admitted to the conversation of great 
 ladies — the house of the Dowager Countess of 
 Devonshire is said to have been his "chief 
 theatre" — and so powerful were the attractions 
 of his wit, that Henry Savile declared that no 
 man in England should keep him company 
 without drinking, except Ned Waller. The 
 poet appears to have been a water-drinker, and 
 one wonders whether this abstemiousness 
 had any connection with a story which Mr. 
 HensHaw relates in a letter of July l6, 1670, to 
 Sir Robert Paston, which had also reached 
 Aubrey's ears. " On Thursday night," writes 
 Mr. Henshaw, "the Earl of St. Albans treated 
 the King and the Mareschal (de Bellefonde) at 
 supper, where Mr. Waller the poet made one, 
 who, when the King went away, waiting on him 
 
Ixvi EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 down the stone steps towards the water, his feet 
 slipping he fell and cracked his skull, which 'tis 
 feared will put finis to his poetry." Some mem- 
 ber of the company, Aubrey says, " made him 
 damnable drunk at Somerset House, where at 
 the water-stayres,he fell downe, and had a cruel 
 fall. 'Twas pitty to use such a sweet swan so 
 inhumanely." Another correspondent of Sir 
 Robert Paston, Sir J. Clayton, throws some 
 further light on the poet's conviviality : writing 
 on June 8, 1669, he says, " I dined at Uxbridge, 
 but never in all my life did I pass my day away 
 with greater gusto, our company being his 
 Grace {the Duke of Buckingham), Mr. Waller, 
 Mr. Surveyor Wren, and myself, nothing but 
 quintessence of wit and most excellent dis- 
 course." The Duke appears to have been on 
 terms of great intimacy with Waller, for the 
 latter used often to wander to Cliveden to 
 wonder at his Grace's costly new buildings and 
 magnificent gardens, and he writes to his wife 
 from London (he lived in St. James's Street, 
 " next doore to the sugar loafe "), " The Duke 
 of Buckingham with the Lady Sh[rewsbury .?] 
 came hither last night at this tyme & carried 
 me to the usuall place to supper, from whence I 
 returned home at four aclocke this morning, 
 having ben earnestly entreated to supp w'h them 
 again to-night, but such bowers can not be 
 always kept, therfore I shall eat my 2 eggs 
 alone & go to bedd." A prudent determination, 
 
INTRODUCTION. Ixvii 
 
 which he re-echoes in a letter to the beautiful 
 Mrs. Myddleton, who counted him and his 
 friend St. Evremond among her devoted 
 admirers : " Your ould Servant," he writes, 
 " having found himself extreamely indisposed, & 
 knowing the cause thereof to have ben the 
 constant eating abroad for a whole week 
 together, thought an immediate Abstinence & 
 Retirement absolutely necessary if he meant to 
 continue longer in the world." 
 
 Amid all these scenes of gaiety through which 
 the poet moved, one naturally looks for 
 Sacharissa. There was no romance lingering 
 about their relations, she wrote of him as " Old 
 Waller," and he, in her presence, forgot his 
 wonted gallantry. They met at Lady Wharton's 
 house, at Woburn ; " When Mr. Waller," said 
 the Dowager Countess of Sunderland, " when, 
 I wonder, will you write such beautiful verses to 
 me again ! " " When, Madam," replied the 
 poet, " your Ladyship is as young and as hand- 
 some again." — "Something," says M. Taine, 
 " to shock a Frenchman ! " 
 
 On May 2, 1677, Waller buried his second 
 wife, at Beaconsfield : she is said to have been 
 a woman of great beauty, and he appears to 
 have felt her loss deeply, for he retired to his 
 house at Hall Barn, and wrote to Mrs. Myddle- 
 ton, begging her to excuse him even to St. 
 Evremond, who had expressed an intention of 
 visiting him. Later he had the honour of enter- 
 
Ixviii EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 taining there visitors more distinguished than 
 the French exile. " Since you writ," (Mrs. 
 Myddleton is again his correspondent), " I have 
 had the honour to receive the Dutchess {of 
 York) & Princess {Anne) with all their fair train, 
 the Lady Sunderland (probably Sacharissa' s 
 daughter-iji-law) was with them who sent me 
 warning but a few hours before, and yett they 
 eate heartily & seemed well content with what 
 could so hastily be gotten for them." 
 
 Charles died, and James succeeded him, and 
 Waller still continued a favourite at Court, but 
 his visits to London became less frequent, and 
 he was more often to be found roaming about 
 in his woods at Beaconsfield, though, as he 
 wrote to Lady Ranelagh, "he had not much joy 
 in walking thei'e, where he found y trees as 
 bare & withered as himselfe, but with this 
 difference. 
 
 That shortly they shall flourish and wax green, 
 But I still old and withered must be seen, 
 Yet if vain thoughts fall, like their leaves, away, 
 The nobler part improves with that decay." 
 
 He bought a small house at Coleshill, hoping 
 to die there, for he said, " A stagge, when he is 
 hunted, and neer spent, always returns home.'' 
 But this was not to be ; being alarmed at a 
 swelling in his leg, he went to Windsor to 
 consult Sir Charles Scarborough, the King's 
 physician, as to the cause. " I am come, Sir," he 
 said, " to you, as a friend as well as a physician, 
 
INTRODUCTION. Ixix 
 
 to ask you what this swelling means " "Why, 
 Sir," answered the blunt doctor, " your blood 
 will run no longer." Waller repeated a line of 
 Virgil, and went home, to Hall Bam. He 
 gathered his children about him, received the 
 Sacrament with them, and died on Oct. 21, 
 1687. On Oct. 26 he was buried in Beacons- 
 field church-yard, by a curious piece of irony, 
 " in woollen according to a late Act of Parlia- 
 ment." When the question of enforcing the 
 penalties for not obser\'ing the Act which 
 required persons to be buried in wool had come 
 up in the House, Waller said, " Our Saviour 
 was buried in linen. 'Tis a thing against the 
 custom of nations, and I am against it.' 
 
 No poetical reputation has suffered such 
 vicissitudes as that of Edmund Waller : 
 described, in the inscription upon his tomb, 
 as " inter poetas sui temporis facile princeps," 
 it was still possible, in 1766, to introduce him to 
 the readers of the Biographia Britannica as 
 " the most celebrated Lyric Poet that ever 
 England produced," and when, in 1772, 
 Percival Stockdale wrote his " Life," in which 
 he declared that " his works gave a new era 
 to English poetry," his performance was con- 
 sidered to be of such merit that he was on the 
 point of receiving the commission to write 
 "The Lives of the Poets," which was after- 
 wards entrusted to Johnson. 
 
 The revolt against classicism extinguished 
 
Ixx EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 the reputation of Waller, as it impaired that 
 of men in every way greater than he, and 
 though in 1885 Mr. Gosse succeeded in throw- 
 ing a very strong light upon him, it was 
 scarcely a friendly office to assert that he 
 revolutionized English poetry. The history of 
 the classical couplet has yet to be written, 
 but the part that Waller took in its develop- 
 ment was certainly not that of an inventor. 
 Abundant evidence has been adduced by Mr. 
 Churton Collins and by Dr. Henry Wood, to 
 show that others (Dr. Wood insists specially 
 upon the claims of Sandys), before his time, 
 were in the habit of writing distichs, confining 
 the sense to the couplet, as smooth and correct 
 as any that ever came from the pen of Waller. 
 That " Waller was smooth " has been generally 
 admitted, and smoothness was the quality at 
 which he particularly aimed. " When he was 
 a briske young sparke, and first studyed 
 poetry, ' Me thought,' said he, ' I never 
 siwe a good copie of English verses ; they 
 want smoothness; then I began to essay.'"' 
 Such is Aubrey's account, but it is scarcely 
 in this direction that one must look for the 
 reason of Waller's extraordinary popularity 
 among his contemporaries. The volume of 
 his verse, having regard to the great age to 
 which he lived, is small, and one is half 
 inclined to believe the story of his having spent 
 a whole summer in elaborating the lines written 
 
INTRODUCTION. Ixxi 
 
 in the Tasso of the Duchess of York. He is 
 credited with having polished his poetry like 
 marble, but his execution is frequently careless, 
 and his ear was by no means exceptionally 
 acuie. He uses the feeble expletive "so" 
 upwards of twenty times as a rhyme, and 
 occasionally he is satisfied with an assonance. 
 Of the " essence of poetry, invention," he was 
 practically destitute, but it would be difficult to 
 find in the whole range of English Poetry any 
 one more uniformly successful in improving an 
 occasion. To many people his verses on this 
 or that public occasion must have come as a 
 relief, after the "conceited" obscurities of 
 Donne. He makes no great demand on the 
 understanding, he is singularly free from 
 conceits, and his classical allusions are the 
 most trite and ordinary. He took Edward 
 Fairfax for his master, and traces of his 
 indebtedness to the translator of Tasso are 
 to be found scattered up and down his 
 poems. His own poetical stock was exceed- 
 ingly small, and probably no writer has re- 
 peated himself so often. He himself described 
 his verses as " written only to please himself, 
 and such particular persons to whom they 
 were directed," and it was precisely this quality 
 of appropriateness which gave him his tre- 
 mendous vogue in his own time. The reputa- 
 tion of the Court and its surroundings clung 
 to him, and, but for this, it would probably 
 
Ixxii EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 have been left for some one in this century to 
 revive him, as the author of the lyrics by which 
 his reputation must stand or falL He lived in 
 the most stirring period of our domestic history, 
 and to some of his poems, the outcome of his 
 relations with persons who playedno unimportant 
 part in making it, a certain historical interest 
 must always attach. One would not wish to be 
 supposed to include in this category the famous 
 Panegyric. It has always been the custom to 
 brand Waller as the poet of a venal muse, but 
 it is difificult indeed to suppose that his two 
 poems on Cromwell were not inspired by 
 genuine admiration and regret. It is doubtful 
 if he owed to the Protector even the per- 
 mission to return to England, and he can 
 have been but poorly recompensed by the 
 monstrous Latin eulogies of Payne Fisher for the 
 storm of invective which the Royalist poets, 
 headed by Charles Cotton, showered upon him. 
 From Charles II. Waller did indeed obtain 
 the only favour he is known to have asked for 
 himself, the grant of the Provostship of Eton 
 College, but this grant was rendered inoperative 
 by the refusal of Clarendon to admit him to 
 the office, on the ground that he was not in 
 Orders. Poetical panegyric has had its day, 
 and one is almost tempted to say that it needed 
 such a man as Cromwell praised by such a 
 poet as Waller to justify its existence. 
 
 It may well be doubted if the insertion of one 
 
INTRODUCTION. Ixxiii 
 
 or two of his poems in anthologies does not do 
 more harm than good to a man's general reputa- 
 tion, by a tendency to divert attention from any- 
 thing else he has written. Waller lives as the 
 author of " Go lovely rose," and the " Lines on 
 a Girdle," and these lyrics might almost be 
 chosen from English literature to serve as the 
 examples of the charms of simplicity and direct- 
 ness. It would be almost stultifying what one 
 has suggested to distinguish particularly other 
 poems of his, but it may be said that the general 
 level of Waller's lyrical work is distinctly high, 
 and there is no such disparity between these 
 famous pieces and the rest of his lyrics, as 
 exists, in the case of some other poets of the 
 seventeenth century, between the bulk of their 
 writings and what Johnson has called their 
 " lucky trifles." 
 
 Waller was sadly deficient in critical instinct 
 as applied to the writings of others. Little 
 attention need be paid to the commendatory 
 verses which good-nature prompted him to 
 address to such of his friends as were authors, 
 but his opinion of "Paradise Lost" was that it 
 was remarkable only for its length, and he laid 
 unholy hands upon " The Maid's Tragedy," and 
 constructed a last act in rhyme more in accord- 
 ance with the requirements of the morals of the 
 Court of Charles II. Little, from a literary point 
 of view, can be said in praise of his " Divine 
 Poems," and cynicism has not been slow to 
 
Ixxiv EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 stamp them as the outcome of ill-health and old 
 age. The poet used to say that "he would blot 
 from his works any line that did not contain 
 some motive to virtue," and if they are not 
 didactic throughout, this at least should be 
 remembered in his favour, that he lived through 
 the period of the Restoration without suffering 
 anything he wrote to be disfigured by the 
 slightest trace of obscenity. 
 
 The date of Waller's earliest poem is uncer- 
 tain, I am inclined to think it was written in his 
 seventeenth year, though it was not printed till 
 1645, but it is certain that when he was over 
 eighty years of age he composed the noble 
 lines, " Of the last verses in the book," lines, 
 surely, not unworthy of any poet in the meridian 
 of his powers. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 To the Queene, &c. 
 
 To my Lady Sophia 
 
 An Advertisement to the Reader 
 
 Of the danger His Majesty (being Prince) escaped 
 
 in the road at St. Andrews 
 
 To the Queen, occasioned upon sight of her 
 
 Majesty's picture 
 
 Of His Majesty's receiving the news of the Duke 
 
 of Buckingham's death 
 
 To the King, on his return from Scotland 
 
 OfSalle 
 
 To the King, on his navy 
 
 Upon His Majesty's repairing of Paul's ... 
 
 To Mr. Henry Lawes 
 
 The country to my Lady of Carlisle 
 The Countess of Carlisle in mourning ... 
 In answer to one who writ against a fair lady 
 
 Of her chamber 
 
 To Phyllis. Phyllis I 'twas love that injured 
 
 you ... 
 
 To Mr. George Sandys 
 
 Upon Ben Jonson 
 
 IX 
 
 xi 
 
 XV 
 
 II 
 
 12 
 
 "3 
 
 15 
 16 
 
 '9 
 21 
 22 
 24 
 26 
 
 27 
 28 
 29 
 
ii EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 To my Lord Northumberland, upon the death of 
 
 his Lady 31 
 
 To my Lord Admiral, of his late sickness and 
 
 recovery 33 
 
 To the Queen-Mother of France, upon her land- 
 ing 35 
 
 Upon the death of my Lady Rich 37 
 
 Thyrsis, Galatea 40 
 
 On my Lady Dorothy Sidney's picture 43 
 
 To Vandyck 44 
 
 At Penshurst, Had Sacharissa lived when 
 
 mortals made ... ■■• ■■• ■■• ... 46 
 
 To my Lord of Leicester 47 
 
 Of the lady who can sleep when she pleases ... 49 
 
 Of the misreport of her being painted 50 
 
 Of her passing through a crowd of people ... 51 
 
 The story of Phoebus and Daphne, applied ... 52 
 
 Fabula Phoebi et Daphnes 53 
 
 Song. Say lovely dream ! ... ... ... 53 
 
 To the servant of a fair lady 55 
 
 To a very young lady ... ... ... ... 57 
 
 ToAmoret. Fair ! that you may truly knazii ... 58 
 
 On the friendship betwixt two ladies 60 
 
 On her coming to London 62 
 
 At Penshurst. While in ike park I sing, the 
 
 listening deer ... ... ... ... ... 64 
 
 The battle of the Summer Islands 66 
 
 When he was at sea ... ... ... ... 75 
 
 To my Lord of Falkland 75 
 
CONTENTS. iii 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Of the Queen 77 
 
 The apology of Sleep, for not approaching the 
 lady who can do anything but sleep when 
 
 she pleaseth 80 
 
 Puerperium... ... ... ... ... ... 82 
 
 To Amoret. Amoret ! the Milky Way 83 
 
 To Phyllis. Phyllis', why should we delay ... 84 
 
 A la malade 85 
 
 Of Love 87 
 
 For drinking of healths 89 
 
 Of my Lady Isabella, playing on the lute ... 90 
 
 Of Mrs. Arden 91 
 
 Of the marriage of the dwarfs ... ... ... 92 
 
 Love's farewell ... ... ... ... ... 93 
 
 From a child 94 
 
 On a girdle 95 
 
 The.fall 96 
 
 Of Sylvia 97 
 
 The bud 98 
 
 On the discovery of a lady's painting 99 
 
 Of loving at first sight ... ... ... ... 100 
 
 The self- banished loi 
 
 To a friend, of the different success of their 
 
 loves ... ... ... ... ... ... 102 
 
 To Zelinda ... 103 
 
 To a lady singing a song of his composing ... 105 
 
 To the mutable fair 106" 
 
 To a lady, from whom he received a silver pen ... 109 
 
 On the head of a stag no 
 
 b 2 
 
iv EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The miser's speech. In a masque m 
 
 To Chloris. Chloris ! since first our calm of 
 
 peace II2 
 
 To a lady in a garden 113 
 
 Chloris and Hylas. Made to a saraband ... 114 
 
 In answer of Sir John Suckling's verses ... 116 
 
 An apology for having loved before 120 
 
 On a brede of divers colours, woven by four 
 
 ladies 121 
 
 To Chloris. Chloris ! what's eminent we know 122 
 Song. Stay, Phoebus I stay ... ... ... 123 
 
 Song. Peace, babbling Muse ! 124 
 
 ToFIavia 125 
 
 Song. Behold the brand of beauty tossed I ... 126 
 
 While I listen to thy voice 127 
 
 Go lovely rose ! 128 
 
 "Under a lady's picture 129 
 
 Written in my Lady Speke's singing-book ... 129 
 
 Of a lady who writ in praise of Mira 130 
 
 To one married to an old man 130 
 
 An epigram on a painted lady vidth ill teeth ... 131 
 
 On Mr. John Fletcher's plays 131 
 
 Verses to Dr. George Rogers 133 
 
 To my Lady Morton, on New Year's Day, 1650 134 
 To Sir William Davenant, upon his two first 
 
 books of Gondibert 136 
 
 A Panegyric to my Lord Protector ... ... 138 
 
 To my worthy friend Mr. Wase, the translator of 
 
 Gratius 146 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Ad Comitem Monumetensem de Bentivoglio suo 148 
 To his worthy friend, Master Evelyn, upon his 
 
 translation of Lucretius ... ... ... 149 
 
 Of a war with Spain, and a fight at sea 151- 
 
 To his worthy friend, Sir Thomas Higgons, upon 
 
 his translation of " The Venetian Triumph" 156 
 Part of the fourth book of Virgil, translated ... 157 
 Upon the late storm, and of the death of His 
 
 Highness ensuing the same ... ... ... 162 
 
 To the King, upon His Majesty's happy return .. . 163 
 On St. James's Park, as lately improved by His 
 
 Majesty 168 
 
 To the Queen, upon Her Majesty's birthday after 
 
 her happy recovery from a dangerous sickness 173 
 To a fair lady, playing with a snake ... ... 175 
 
 Instructions to a painter ... ... ... ... 176 
 
 Upon Her Majesty's new buildings at Somerset 
 
 House 189 
 
 Epitaph to be written under the Latin inscription 
 
 upon the tomb of the only son of the Lord 
 
 Andover 191 
 
 To Mr. Killigrew 192 
 
 Epigram upon the golden medal 193 
 
 The night-piece ... - ... ... ... ... 193 
 
 On the picture of a fair youth, taken after he was 
 
 dead 195 
 
 Of a tree cut in paper ig6 
 
 To a lady, from whom he received the foregoing 
 
 copy 197 
 
vi EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Of English verse 197 
 
 To the Duchess, when he presented this book to 
 
 Her Royal Highness 199 
 
 To the Duchess of Orleans, when she was taking 
 
 leave of the Court at Dover 200 
 
 To a friend of the author 201 
 
 Of Her Royal Highness, mother to the Prince of 
 
 Orange 202 
 
 On the statue of King Charles I. at Charing 
 
 Cross 203 
 
 Epitaph on Colonel Charles Cavendish 203 
 
 The triple combat 205 
 
 Upon our late loss of the Duke of Cambridge ... 207 
 
 Of the Lady Mary 208 
 
 To the Prince of Orange, 1677 210 
 
 On the Duke of Monmouth's expedition, 1679 ... 212 
 Upon the Earl of Roscommon's translation of 
 
 Horace 214 
 
 These verses were writ in the Tasso of Her Royal 
 
 Highness 216 
 
 Of an elegy made by Mrs. Wharton on the Earl 
 
 ofRochester 217 
 
 To Mr. Creech, on his translation of Lucretius... 218 
 Sung by Mrs. Knight, to Her Majesty, on her 
 
 birthday 220 
 
 Written on a card that Her Majesty tore at ombre 220 
 
 Translated out of Spanish 221 
 
 Of Her Majesty, on New Year's Day, 1683 ... 221 
 Of tea, commended by Her Majesty ... ... 222 
 
CONTENTS. vii 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Prologue for the lady-actors 223 
 
 Prologue to " The Maid's Tragedy " 224 
 
 Epilogue to " The Maid's Tragedy " 226 
 
 Epilogue to "The Maid's Tragedy," designed 
 
 upon the first alteration of the play 227 
 
 On the invasion and defeat of the Turks, 1683 ... 228 
 
 A presage of the ruin of the Turkish Empire ... 231 
 
 _ To His Majesty, upon his motto, Beati Facifici... 234 
 
 Epitaph on Sir George Speke 235 
 
 Epitaph on Henry Dunch, Esq 237 
 
 Song. Chlorts ! farewell, I now must go ... 238 
 
 To Mr. Granville 239 
 
 Long and short life 240 
 
 Translated out of French 240 
 
 Some verses of an imperfect copy 241 
 
 Pride 242 
 
 Epitaph on the Lady Sedley 242 
 
 Epitaph unfinished... ... ... ... ... 244 
 
 Upon a lady's fishing with an angle ... ... 244 
 
 On Mrs. Iliggons 246 
 
 Of Divine Love 247 
 
 Of Divine Poesy 259 
 
 Of the paraphrase on the Lord's Prayer 264 
 
 Some reflections of his upon the several petitions 
 
 in the same Prayer 265 
 
 On the Fear of God 267 
 
 Of the last verses in the book 272 
 
TO THE QUEENE &c. 
 
 Madam, 
 
 If your Ma'y had lived in those Tymes 
 which sacrifiz'd to the Sun and Moone and of 
 eatch glorious Creatoure made a new Dyety, 
 as the admiration of your sacrad persone had 
 supply'd them with a more excusable Idolatry, 
 So could no incense have been more worthie 
 your Altar then the odore of his Ma''°^ 
 Heroyck deeds. And though the court and 
 universities have no other mater of theer song, 
 yet if your Ma''" please to listen what Echo the 
 country returnes to so loud a praise, Wee shall 
 likwayes teach the woods to sound your royall 
 name. And tell how great a portion of our 
 present hapines is owing to those Divyne 
 Graces, whairin all the privat desires of our 
 soueraine beeing accompleished, hee is wholie 
 at Leasoure to confer fselicitie on others, for 
 continence (soe greate a miracle in the vigour 
 of youth and royalitie) , Wee nomber amongst 
 the Meanest of his Vertues, whose bed soe 
 highly adomd with bloode and beauty presentes 
 him with all that Antiquitie and youth cane 
 
X TO THE QUE EN E. 
 
 give ; Nor is our neighboure Kingdome Less 
 requited for the light it first shewed you in that 
 his Ma'''=^ enjoying the fairest pairt, is so weell 
 content with a titill to the rest of France. But 
 we looke not on your Ma"°° as the cause only 
 But as the pledg of our securitie, For as 
 Heaven threatens a Deluge of all calamities 
 uppone a land condemned to be the seat of 
 warr ; soe may our Natione well expect the 
 contrary blessings being chosen for the seat of 
 love. A love soe famous fruitfuU and religiously 
 observed betwixt your most excelent Ma"*^ that 
 like the sacrad oil (whairwith the Roiall poet 
 soe pevfum'd his song of firatemall Amity) 
 diffus'd from the head doune to the skirts, the 
 meanest of your people, it affects us all with the. 
 joy of so noble a president. Nore doeth 
 Heaven seme less to acknowleadge this Pietie 
 still binding your Kingdomes together with soe 
 many hopfuU knots that wee ar now confident 
 no other streame of bloode shall ever devyd the 
 poure of this hapie Hand ; for which Graces 
 your Ma''° is not named amongst us without 
 prayers, that when you shall have exceeded the 
 comoune fate of Humane conditioune no less in 
 tyme thane in glorie you may recaue that 
 welcome amongst the glad Angels To wich 
 
TO MY LAD Y SOPHIA. xi 
 
 the resemblance you have both of thare bright- 
 ness and inocence Gives you alreadie so fair a 
 Titile. 
 
 Your Ma"« &c. 
 
 Thus I intended long since to have presented 
 to hir Ma''' those things which I had writtin of 
 the King But besids that I held thame not 
 worthie of hir the Tymes alsoe hath made this 
 epistle unseasonable. 
 
 TO MY LADY SOPHIA.' 
 
 Madam, 
 
 Your commands for the gathering of 
 these sticks into a faggot had sooner been 
 obeyed, but, that intending to present you with 
 my whole vintage, I stayed till the latest grapes 
 were ripe ; for here your ladyship hath not only 
 all I have done, but all I ever mean to do of this 
 kind. Not but that I may defend the attempt 
 I have made upon poetry, by the examples (not 
 to trouble you with history) of many wise and 
 worthy persons of our own times ; as Sir Philip 
 
 I,— Ed. 1645, To my Lady. 
 
xii TO MY LADY SOPHIA. 
 
 t 
 Sidney, Sir Fra : Bacon, Cardinal Perron (the 
 ablest of his countrymen), and the former Pope, 
 who, they say, instead of the Triple Crown, 
 wore sometimes the poet's ivy, as an ornament, 
 perhaps, of less weight and trouble. But, 
 madam, these nightingales sung only in the 
 spring ; it was the diversion of their youth ; as 
 ladies learn to sing and play whilst' they are 
 children, what they forget when they are women. 
 The resemblance holds further ; for, as you quit 
 the lute the sooner because the posture is 
 suspected to draw the body awry, so this is not 
 always practised without some violence' to the 
 mind ; wresting it from present occasions, and 
 accustoming us to a style somewhat removed 
 from common use. But, that you may not think 
 his case deplorable who has made verses, we are 
 told that Tully (the greatest wit among the 
 Romans) was once sick of this disease ; and yet 
 recovered so well, that of almost as bad a poet 
 as your servant, he became the most perfect 
 orator in the world. So that, not so much to 
 have made verses, as not to give over in time, 
 leaves a man without excuse ; the former 
 presenting us at least with an opportunity of 
 doing wisely, that is, to conceal those we have 
 
 I. — Ed. 1645, •when. 2. — Ed. 1645, •uillany. 
 
TO MY LAD Y SOPHIA. xiii 
 
 made ; which I shall yet do, if my humble 
 request may be of as much force with your 
 ladyship, as your commands have been with me. 
 Madam, I only whisper these in your ear ; if 
 you publish them, they become ' your own ; and 
 therefore, as you apprehend the reproach of a 
 wit and a poet, cast them into the fire ; or, if 
 they come where green boughs are in the 
 chimney, with the help of your fair friends (for 
 thus bound, it will be too stubborn ^ a task for 
 your hands alone), tear them in pieces, wherein 
 you shalP honour me with the fate of Orpheus ; 
 for so his poems, whereof we only hear the 
 fame* (not his limbs, as the story would have 
 it), I suppose were scattered by the Thracian 
 dames. Here, madam, I might take an oppor- 
 tunity to celebrate your virtues, and to instruct 
 the unhappy men that knew you not, who you 
 are, ^ how much you excel the most excellent of 
 your own, and how much you amaze the least 
 inclined to wonder of our sex. But as they will 
 be apt to take your ladyship's for a Roman 
 
 I. — Ed. 1645, are. 2. — Ed, 1645, hard. 3 — Ed. 1645, will, 
 4. — Ed. 1645, heare the forme ; Park (ed. 1806,), substituted 
 
 iear^ and Bell (ed. 1854,) bear for heare, without rendering 
 
 the sentence intelligible. 
 S. — Ed. 1645, Instruct you how unhappie you are, in that 
 
 you knoiv not who you are,. 
 
xiv TO MY LAD Y SOPHIA. 
 
 name, so would they believe that I endeavoured 
 the character of a perfect nymph, worshipped an 
 image of my own making, and dedicated this to 
 the lady of the brain, not of the heart, of 
 
 Your Ladyship's most humble servant, 
 
 E. W. 
 
AN ADVERTISEMENT TO THE 
 READER. 
 
 Reader. This parcell of exquisit poems, have 
 pass'd up and downe through many hands 
 amongst persons of the best quallity, in loose 
 imperfect Manuscripts, and there is lately 
 obtruded to the world an adulterate Copy, 
 surruptitiously and illegally imprinted to the 
 derogation of the Author and the abuse of the 
 Buyer. But in this booke they apeare in their 
 pure originalls and true genuine colours. In so 
 much that they feare not (as young Eaglets use 
 to be tryed whither they are spurious, or of right 
 extraction) to look upon the Sunne in the 
 Meridian, in regard Apollo himselfe, the grand 
 Patron of Poets seemd not only to cast many 
 favourable aspects, but by his more then 
 ordinary influence to cooperate in their produc- 
 tion ; as will appeare to the intelligent and 
 cleare-sighted Reader, by that constant veine of 
 gold (the minerall which that planet ownes more 
 then any other) which runnes through every one 
 of them. Thus they go abroad unsophisticated 
 and like the present condition of the Author 
 
xvi TO THE READER. 
 
 himselfe they are expos'd to the wide world, to 
 travell, and try their fortunes ! And I beleeve 
 there is no gentle soule that pretends anything 
 to knowledge and the choycest sort of invention 
 but will give them entertainment and wellcome. 
 
THE PRINTER TO THE READER.' 
 
 When the author of these verses (written only 
 to please himself, and such particular persons 
 to whom they were directed) returned from 
 abroad some years since, he was troubled to find 
 his name in print ; but somewhat satisfied to see 
 his lines so ill rendered that he might justly 
 disown them, and say to a mistaliing printer as 
 one did to an ill reciter, 
 
 . . . Male dum recitas^ incipit esse tuum,^ 
 
 Having been ever since pressed to correct the 
 many and gross faults (such as use to be in 
 impressions wholly neglected by the authors), 
 his answer was, that he made these when ill 
 verses had more favour, and escaped better, 
 than good ones do in this age ; the severity 
 whereof he thought not unhappily diverted by 
 those faults in the impression which hitherto 
 have hung upon his book, as the Turks hang old 
 rags, or such like ugly things, upon their fairest 
 horses, and other goodly creatures, to secure 
 
 1, — From the edition of 1664, tlie iirst printed after the 
 Restoration* 
 2. — Martial, lib. i. ep, 39. 
 
 C 
 
xviii TO THE READER. 
 
 them against fascination. And for those of a 
 more confined understanding, who pretend not 
 to censure, as they admire most what they least 
 comprehend, so his verses (maimed to that 
 degiee that himself scarce knew what to make 
 of many of them) might, that way at least, have 
 a title to some admiration ; which is no small 
 matter, if what an old author observes be true, 
 that the aim of orators is victory, of historians 
 truth, and of poets admiration. He had reason, 
 therefore, to indulge those faults in his book, 
 whereby it might be reconciled to some, and 
 commended to others. 
 
 Tlie printer also, he thought, would fare the 
 worse if those faults were amended ; for we see 
 maimed statues sell better than whole ones ; 
 and clipped and washed money go about, when 
 the entire and weighty lies hoarded up. 
 
 These are the reasons which, for above twelve 
 years past, he has opposed to our request ; to 
 ^^•hich it was replied, that as it would be too late 
 to recall that which had so long been made 
 public, so might it find excuse from his youth, 
 the season it was produced in ; and for what 
 had been done since, and now added, if it 
 commend not his poetry, it might his philosophy, 
 which teaches him so cheerfully to bear so great 
 
TO THE READER. xix 
 
 a calamity as the loss of the best part of his 
 fortune, torn from him in prison (in which, and 
 in banishment, the best portion of his life hath 
 also been spent), that he can still sing under the 
 burthen, not unlike that Roman, 
 
 . . . . Quern demisere Philippi 
 Decisis humilem pennis, inopemque paterni 
 Et laris et fundi.l .... 
 
 Whose spreading wings, the civil war had clipped^ 
 And him of his old patrimony stripped. 
 
 Who yet not long after could say, 
 
 Musis amicus, tristitiam et metus 
 Tradam protervis in mare Creticum 
 Portare ventis. 2 , . , , 
 
 They that acquainted with the muses be. 
 Send care and sorrow by the winds to sea. 
 
 Not SO much moved with these reasons of 
 ours (or pleased with our rhymes), as wearied 
 with our importunity, he has at last given us 
 leave to assure the reader, that the Poems which 
 have been so long and so ill set forth under his 
 name, are here to be found as he first writ them ; 
 as also to add some others which have since 
 been composed by him : and though his advice 
 to the contrary might have discouraged us, yet 
 
 I. — Varied from Horace, Epistles II. 2. 49-51. 
 2. — Horace, Odes I. 26. 1-3. 
 
 C 2 
 
XX TO THE READER. 
 
 observing how often they have been reprinted, 
 what price they have borne, and how earnestly 
 they have been always inquired after, but 
 especially of late (making good that of Horace, 
 
 .... Meliora dies, ut vina, poemata reddit. ^ 
 
 "some verses being, like some wines, recom- 
 mended to our taste by time and age ") we have 
 adventured upon this new and well-corrected 
 edition, which, for our own sakes as well as 
 thine, we hope will succeed better than he 
 apprehended. 
 
 Vivitur ingenio^ CEetera mortb erunt. 
 
 I. — Epistles II. I, 34. 
 
POSTSCRIPT.' 
 
 Not having the same Argument as at first to 
 persuade the Author that I might print his 
 Verses more Correctly, which he found so ill 
 done at his Return ; I have now adventured, 
 without giving him farther Trouble by impor- 
 tuning him for a new Permission, to Collect all 
 that I can find, either left out of the former 
 Edition or such as have been since made by 
 him ; to which I am the more encouraged, 
 because the first (tho' most of them were 
 compos'd Fifty or Sixty years since) seem still 
 New, which would be more strange in so 
 changing a Language, had it not been by him 
 improv'd, which may make one think it true 
 that I have heard from some learned Criticks, 
 that Virgil when he said — Nova carminu pango 
 . . . meant not Verses that were never seen 
 before (for in that sence all at first are New) but 
 such as he thought might be ever New. May 
 these still appear to be so for the diversion of 
 the Readers, and interest of 
 
 Their humble Servant. 
 
 I,— From the 1686 edition. 
 
PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART OF 
 MR. WALLER'S POEMS, PRINTED 
 IN THE YEAR 1690. 
 
 The reader needs be told no more in com- 
 mendation of these Poems, than that they are 
 Mr. Waller's ; a name that carries everything 
 in it that is either great or graceful in poetry. 
 He was, indeed, the parent of English verse, 
 and the first that showed us our tongue had 
 beauty and numbers in it. Our language owes 
 more to him than the French does to Cardinal 
 Richelieu, and the whole Academy. A poet 
 cannot think of him without being in the same 
 rapture Lucretius is in when Epicurus comes 
 in his way. 
 
 Tu pater, es rerum inventor ; tu patria nobis 
 Suppeditas prsecepta ; tuisque ex, Inclute ! chartis, 
 Floriferis ut apes in saltibus omnia libant, 
 Omnia nos itidem depascimur aurea dicta, 
 Aurea ! perpetua semper dignissima vita ! 1 
 
 The tongue came into his hands like a rough 
 diamond: he polished it first, and to that 
 
 I. — Lib. iii. ver. 9. 
 
PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART, xxiii 
 
 degree, that all artists since him have admired 
 the workmanship, without pretending to mend 
 it. Suckling and Carew, I must confess, wrote 
 some few things smoothly enough ; but as all 
 they did in this kind was not very considerable, 
 so it was a little later than the earliest pieces of 
 Mr. Waller. He undoubtedly stands first in the 
 hst of refiners, and, for aught I know, last too ; 
 for I question whether in Charles II.'s reign 
 English did not come to its full perfection ; and 
 whether it has not had its Augustan age as well 
 as the Latin. It seems to be already mixed 
 with foreign languages as far as its purity will 
 bear ; and, as chemists say of their men- 
 struums, to be quite sated with the infusion. 
 But posterity will best judge of this. In the 
 meantime, it is a surprising reflection, that 
 between what Spenser wrote last, and Waller 
 first, there should not be much above twenty 
 years' distance ; and yet the one's language, like 
 the money of that time, is as current now as 
 ever ; whilst the other's words are like old coins, 
 one must go to an antiquary to understand 
 their true meaning and value. Such advances 
 may a great genius make, when it undertakes 
 anything in earnest ! 
 
 Some painters will hit the chief lines and 
 
xxiv PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART. 
 
 masterstrokes of a face so truly, that through 
 all the differences of age the picture shall still 
 bear a resemblance. This art was Mr. Waller's : 
 he sought out, in this flowing tongue of ours, 
 what parts would last, and be of standing use 
 and ornament ; and this he did so successfully, 
 that his language is now as fresh as it was at 
 first setting out. Were we to judge barely by 
 the wording, we could not know what was 
 wrote at twenty, and what at fourscore. He 
 complains, indeed, of a tide of words that 
 comes in upon the English poet, and overflows 
 whatever he builds ; but this was less his case 
 than any man's that ever wrote ; and the 
 mischief of it is, this very complaint will last 
 long enough to confute itself; for though 
 English be mouldering stone, as he tells us 
 there, yet he has certainly picked the best out 
 of a bad quarry. 
 
 We are no less beholden to him for the new 
 turn of verse which he brought in, and the 
 improvement he made in our numbers. Before 
 his time men rhymed indeed, and that was all : 
 as for the harmony of measure, and that dance 
 of words which good ears are so much pleased 
 with, they knew nothing of it. Their poetry 
 then was made up almost entirely of mono- 
 
PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART, xxv 
 
 syllables ; which, when they come together in 
 any cluster, are certainly the most harsh, 
 untuneable things in the world. If any man 
 doubts of this, let him read ten lines in Donne, 
 and he will be quickly convinced. Besides, 
 their verses ran all into one another, and hung 
 together, throughout a whole copy, like the 
 hooked atoms that compose a body in Des 
 Cartes. There was no distinction of parts, no 
 regular stops, nothing for the ear to rest upon ; 
 but as soon as the copy began, down it went 
 like a larum, incessantly ; and the reader was 
 sure to be out of breath before he got to the 
 end of it : so that really verse, in those days, 
 was but downright prose tagged with rhymes. 
 Mr. Waller removed all these faults, brought in 
 more polysyllables, and smoother measures, 
 bound up his thoughts better, and in a cadence 
 more agreeable to the nature of the verse he 
 wrote in ; so that wherever the natural stops of 
 that were, he contrived the little breakings of his 
 sense so as to fall in with them ; and, for that 
 reason, since the stress of our verse lies 
 commonly upon the last syllable, you will 
 hardly ever find him using a word of no force 
 there. I would say, if I were not afraid the 
 reader would think me too nice, that he com- 
 
xxvi PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART. 
 
 monly closes with verbs, in which we know the 
 hfe of language consists. 
 
 Among other improvements we may reckon 
 that of his rhymes, which are always good, and 
 very often the better for being new. He had a 
 fine ear, and knew how quickly that sense was 
 cloyed by the same round of chiming words 
 still returning upon it. It is a decided case by 
 the great master of writing, ' Quce sunt ampla, 
 et pulchra, diu placer e possunt ; qua lepida et 
 concinna (amongst which rhyme must, whether 
 it will or no, take its place), citb satietate 
 afficmnt aurium se?isum fastidiosissimuvt. 
 This he understood very well ; and therefore, to 
 take off the danger of a surfeit that way, strove 
 to please by variety and new sounds. Had he 
 carried this observation, among others, as far 
 as it would go, it must, methinks, have shown 
 him the incurable fault of this jingling kind of 
 poetry, and have led his later judgment to 
 blank verse ; but he continued an obstinate 
 lover of rhyme to the very last ; it was a 
 mistress that never appeared unhandsome in 
 his eyes, and was courted by him long after 
 Sacharissa was forsaken. He had raised it, 
 and brought it to that perfection we now enjoy 
 
 I. — Cicero, Ad HerenniuTn, lib. iv. 23, 32. 
 
PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART, xxvn 
 
 it in ; and the poet's temper (which has always 
 a little vanity in it) would not suffer him ever to 
 slight a thing he had taken so much pains 
 to adorn. My Lord Roscommon was more 
 impartial ; no man ever rhymed truer and 
 evener than he ; yet he is so just as to confess 
 that it is but a trifle, and to wish the tyrant 
 dethroned, and blank verse set up in its room. 
 There is a third person,' the living glory of our 
 English poetry, who has disclaimed the use of 
 it upon the stage, though no man ever employed 
 it there so happily as he. It was the strength 
 of his genius that first brought it into credit in 
 plays, and it is the force of his example that 
 has thrown it out again. In other kinds of 
 writing it continues still, and will do so till 
 some excellent spirit arises that has leisure 
 enough, and resolution, to break the charm, and 
 free us from the troublesome bondage of rhym- 
 ing, as Mr. Milton very well calls it, and has 
 proved it as well by what he has wrote in 
 another way. But this is a thought for times 
 at some distance ; the present age is a little too 
 warlike ; it may perhaps furnish out matter for 
 a good poem in the next, but it will hardly 
 encourage one now. Without prophesying, a 
 
 I. — Mr. Dryden. 
 
xxviii PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART. 
 
 man may easily know what sort of laurels are 
 like to be in request. 
 
 Whilst I am talking of verse, I find myself, I 
 do not know how, betrayed into a great deal 
 of prose. I intended no more than to put the 
 reader in mind what respect was due to any- 
 thing that fell from the pen of Mr. Waller. I 
 have heard his last-printed copies, which are 
 added in the several editions of his poems, 
 very slightly spoken of, but certainly they do 
 not deserve it. They do indeed discover them- 
 selves to be his last, and that is the worst we 
 can say of them. He is there 
 
 Jam senior ; sed cruda Deo viridisque senectus. 1 
 
 The same censure, perhaps, wiE be passed on 
 the pieces of this Second Part. I shall not so 
 far engage for them, as to pretend they are all 
 equal to whatever he wrote in the vigour of his 
 youth ; yet they are so much of a piece with the 
 rest, that any man will at first sight know them 
 to be Mr. Waller's. Some of them were wrote 
 very early, but not put into former collections, 
 for reasons obvious enough, but which are now 
 ceased. The play was altered to please the 
 court ; it is not to be doubted who sat for the 
 
 I.— Virg. Mn. vi. 304, 
 
PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART, xxix 
 
 Two Brothers' characters. It was agreeable to 
 the sweetness of Mr. Waller's temper to soften 
 the rigour of the tragedy, as he expresses it ; 
 but whether it be so agreeable to the nature of 
 tragedy itself to make everything come off 
 easily, I leave to the critics. In the prologue 
 and epilogue there are a few verses that he has 
 made use of upon another occasion ; but the 
 reader may be pleased to allow that in him that 
 has been allowed so long in Homer and 
 Lucretius. Exact writers dress up their thoughts 
 so very well always, that when they have need 
 of the same sense, they cannot put it into other 
 words but it must be to its prejudice. Care has 
 been taken in this book to get together every- 
 thing of Mr. Waller's that is not put into the 
 former collection ; so that between both the 
 reader may make the set complete. 
 
 It will, perhaps, be contended, after all, that 
 some of these ought not to have been published ; 
 and Mr. Cowley's ' decision will be urged, that 
 a neat tomb of marble is a better monument 
 than a great pile of rubbish, &c. It might be 
 answered to this, that the pictures and poems of 
 great masters have been always valued, though 
 the last hand were not put to them : and I 
 
 I. — In the preface to his works. 
 
XXX PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART. 
 
 believe none of those gentlemen that will make 
 the objection would refuse a sketch of Raphael's, 
 or one of Titian's draughts of the first sitting. 
 I might tell them, too, what care has been taken 
 by the learned to preserve the fragments of the 
 ancient Greek and Latin poets ; there has been 
 thought to be a divinity in what they said ; and 
 therefore the least pieces of it have been kept up 
 and reverenced like religious relics ; and I am 
 sure, take away the mille anni, ' and impartial 
 reasoning will tell us there is as much due to the 
 memory of Mr. Waller, as to the most celebrated 
 names of antiquity. 
 
 But, to waive the dispute now of what ought 
 to have been done, I can assure the reader what 
 would have been, had this edition been delayed. 
 The following poems were got abroad, and in a 
 great many hands ; it were vain to expect that, 
 among so many admirers of j\lr. Waller, they 
 should not meet with one fond enough to publish 
 
 I.— Alluding to that verse in Juvenal — 
 
 . . . . Et uni cedit Homero 
 
 Propter miUe annos. . , . — Sat. 7, 38-39. 
 
 And yields to Homer on no other score, 
 Than that he lived a thousand years before. 
 
 Mr. C. Dryden. 
 
PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART, xxxi 
 
 them. They might have stayed, indeed, till by 
 frequent transcriptions they had been corrupted 
 extremely, and jumbled together with things of 
 another kind ; but then they would have found 
 their way into the world ; so it was thought a 
 greater piece of kindness to the author to put 
 them out whilst they continue genuine and 
 unmixed and such as he himself, were he alive, 
 might own. 
 
POEMS. 
 
 OF THE DANGER HIS MAJESTY [BEING 
 PRINCE] ESCAPED IN THE ROAD AT 
 SAINT ANDREWS.! 
 
 Now had his Highness bid farewell to Spain, 
 And reached the sphere of his own power, the main ; 
 With British bounty in his ship he feasts 
 The Hesperian princes, his amazed guests 
 To find that watery wilderness exceed 5 
 
 The entertainment of their great Madrid. 
 Healths to both kings, attended with the roar 
 Of cannons, echoed from the affrighted shore. 
 With loud resemblance of his thunder, prove 
 Bacchus the seed of cloud-compelling Jove ; 10 
 
 While to his harp divine Arion sings 
 The loves and conquests of our Albion kings. 
 Of the Fourth Edward was his noble song, 
 Fierce, goodly, valiant, beautiful, and young ; 
 
 I. — 164s, Si. Andere. 1664, Saint Attderes, 
 
2 POEMS OF 
 
 He rent the crown from vanquished Henry's head, 15 
 Raised the White Rose, and trampled on the Red ; 
 Till love, triumphing o'er the victor's pride, 
 Brought Mars and Warwick to the conquered side ; 
 Neglected Warwick (whose bold hand, like Fate, 
 Gives and resumes the sceptre of our state) 20 
 
 Woos for his master ; and with double shame. 
 Himself deluded, mocks the princely dame. 
 The Lady Bona, whom just anger burns. 
 And foreign war with civil rage returns. 
 Ah ! spare your swords, where beauty is to blame ; 25 
 Love gave the affront, and must repair the same ; 
 When France shall boast of her, whose conquering 
 
 eyes 
 Have made the best of English hearts their prize ; 
 Have power to alter the decrees of Fate, 
 And change s^ain the counsels of our state, 30 
 
 What the prophetic Muse intends, alone 
 To him that feels the secret wound is known. 
 
 With the sweet sound of this harmonious lay 
 About the keel delighted dolphins play. 
 Too sure a sign of sea's ensuing rage, 35 
 
 Which must anon this royal troop engage ; 
 To whom soft sleep seems more secure and sweet, 
 Within the town commanded by our fleet. 
 
 These mighty peers placed in the gilded barge, 
 Proud with the burden of so brave a charge, 40 
 
 With painted oars the youths b^n to sweep 
 Neptune's smooth face, and cleave the yielding deep ; 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 3 
 
 Which soon becomes the seat of sudden war 
 Between the wind and tide that fiercely jar. 
 As when a sort of lusty shepherds try 45 
 
 Their force at football, care of victory 
 Makes them salute so rudely breast to breast, 
 That their encounters seem too rough for jest ; 
 They ply their feet, and still the restless ball, 
 Tossed to and fro, is urged by them all : 50 
 
 So fares the doubtful barge 'twixt tide and winds. 
 And like effect of their contention finds. 
 Yet the bold Britons still securely rowed ; 
 Charles and his virtue was their sacred load ; 
 Than which a greater pledge Heaven could not give, 55 
 That the good boat this tempest should outlive. 
 
 But storms increase, and now no hope of grace 
 Among them shines, save in the Prince's face ; 
 The rest resign their courage, skill, and sight. 
 To danger, horror, and unwelcome night. 60 
 
 The gentle vessel (wont with state and pride 
 On the smooth back of silver Thames to ride) 
 Wanders astonished in ^ the angry main, 
 As Titan's car did, while the golden rein 
 Filled the young hand of his adventurous son, 65 
 When the whole world an equal hazard run 
 To this of ours, the light of whose desire 
 Waves threaten now, as that was scared by fire. 
 The impatient sea grows impotent and raves, 
 
 1.— 1645, through. 
 
4 POEMS OF 
 
 That, night assisting, his impetuous waves 7° 
 
 Should find resistance from so light a thing ; 
 
 These surges ruin, those our safety bring. 
 
 The oppressed vessel doth the charge abide, 
 
 Only because assailed on every side ; 
 
 So men with rage and passion set on fire, 75 
 
 Trembling for haste, impeach their mad desire. 
 
 The pale Iberians had expired with fear, 
 But that their wonder did divert their care, 
 To see the Prince with danger moved no more 
 Than with the pleasures of their court before ; 8o 
 Godlike his courage seemed, whom nor delight 
 Could soften, nor the face of death affright 
 Next to the power of making tempests cease, 
 Was in that storm to have so calm a peace. 
 Great Maro could no greater tempest feign, 85 
 
 When the loud winds usurping on the main 
 For angry Juno, laboured to destroy 
 The hated relics of confounded Troy ; 
 His bold ^neas, on like billows tossed 
 In a tall ship, and all his country lost, 90 
 
 Dissolves with fear ; and both his hands upheld, 
 Proclaims them happy whom the Greeks had quelled 
 In honourable fight ; our hero, set 
 In a small- shallop. Fortune in his debt, 
 So near a hope of crowns and sceptres, more 95 
 
 Than ever Priam, when he flourished, wore ; 
 His loins yet full of ungot princes, all 
 His glory in the bud, lets nothing fall 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 5 
 
 That argues fear ; if any thought annoys 
 
 The gallant youth, 'tis love's untasted joys, 100 
 
 And dear remembrance of that fatal glance, 
 
 For which he lately pawned his heart in France ; 
 
 Where he had seen a brighter nymph than she 
 
 That sprung out of his present foe, the sea. 
 
 That noble ardour, more than mortal fire, 105 
 
 The conquered ocean could not make expire ; 
 
 Nor angry Thetis raise her waves above 
 
 The heroic Prince's courage or his love ; 
 
 'Twas indignation, and not fear he felt, 
 
 The shrine should perish where that image dwelt. 1 10 
 
 Ah, Love forbid ! the noblest of thy train 
 
 Should not survive to let her know his pain ; 
 
 Who nor his peril minding nor his flame. 
 
 Is entertained with some less serious game, 
 
 Among the bright nymphs of the Gallic court, 115 
 
 All highly born, obsequious to her sport ; 
 
 They roses seem, which in their early pride 
 
 But half reveal, and half their beauties hide ; 
 
 She the glad morning, which her beams does throw 
 
 Upon their smiling leaves, and gilds them so ; 1 20 
 
 Like bright Aurora, whose refulgent ray 
 
 Foretells the fervour of ensuing day. 
 
 And warns the shepherd with his flocks retreat 
 
 To leafy shadows from the threatened heat. 
 
 From Cupid's string' of many shafts, that fled 125 
 
 I. — 1645. Strings in 1664 and subsequent editions. 
 
6 POEMS OF 
 
 Winged with those plumes which noble Fame had 
 
 shed, 
 As through the wondering world she flew, and told 
 Of his adventures, haughty, brave, and bold ; 
 Some had already touched the royal maid, 
 But Love's first summons seldom are obeyed ; 130 
 Light was the wound, the Prince's care unknown, 
 She might not, would not, yet reveal her own. 
 His glorious name had so possessed her ears. 
 That with delight those antique tales she hears 
 Of Jason, Theseus, and such worthies old, 135 
 
 As vrith his story best resemblance hold. 
 And now she views, as on the wall it hung, 
 What old MusEEus so divinely sung ; 
 Which art with life and love did so inspire, 
 That she discerns and favours that desire, 140 
 
 Which there provokes the adventurous youth to swim, 
 And in Leander's danger pities him ; 
 Whose not new love alone, but fortune, seeks 
 To frame his story like that ' amorous Greek's. 
 For from the stern of some good ship appears 145 
 A friendly light, which moderates their fears ; 
 New courage from reviving hope they take. 
 And climbing o'er the waves that taper make, 
 On which the hope of all their lives depends, 
 As his on that fair Hero's hand extends. 1 50 
 
 The ship at anchor, like a fixed rock, 
 
 I. — 1664 and 1682, the. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 7 
 
 Breaks the proud billows which her large sides knock ; 
 Whose rage restrained, foaming higher swells, 
 And from her port the weary barge repels. 
 Threatening to make her, forced out again, 155 
 
 Repeat the dangers of the troubled main. 
 Twice was the cable hurled in vain ; the Fates 
 Would not be moved for our sister states ; 
 For England is the third successful throw, 
 And then the genius of that land they know, 160 
 
 Whose prince must be (as their own books devise) 
 Lord of the scene where now his ^ danger lies. 
 
 Well sung the Roman bard, "AH human things 
 Of dearest value hang on slender strings. " 
 O see the then sole hope, and, in design 165 
 
 Of Heaven, our joy, supported by a line ! 
 Which for that instant was Heaven's care, above^ 
 The chain that's fixed to the throne of Jove, 
 On which the fabric of our world depends ; 
 One link dissolved, the whole creation ends. 170 
 
 I. -1664, the, 
 
 2. — In the edition of 1686 at the end of this line there is a 
 comma, which is not found in the previous editions. 
 
POEMS OF 
 
 TO THE QUEEN, 
 
 OCCASIONED UPON SIGHT OF HER MAJESTY'S 
 PICTURE. 
 
 Well fare the hand ! which to our humble sight 
 Presents that beauty, which the dazzling light 
 Of royal splendour hides from weaker eyes, 
 And all access, save by this art, denies. 
 Here only we have courage to behold 5 
 
 This beam of glory ; here we dare unfold 
 In numbers thus the wonders we conceive ; 
 The gracious image, seeming to give leave, 
 Propitious stands, vouchsafing to be seen. 
 And by our muse saluted. Mighty Queen, 10 
 
 In whom the extremes of power and beauty move. 
 The Queen of Britain, and the Queen of Love ! 
 As the bright sun (to which we owe no sight 
 Of equal glory to your beauty's light) 
 Is wisely placed in so sublime a seat, 15 
 
 To extend his light, and moderate his heat ; 
 So, happy 'tis you move in such a sphere, 
 As your high Majesty with awful fear 
 In human breasts might qualify that fire, 
 Which, kindled by those eyes, had flamed higher 20 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 9 
 
 Than when the scorched world like hazard run, 
 By the approach of the ill-guided sun. 
 
 No other nymphs have title to men's hearts, 
 But as their meanness larger hope imparts ; 
 Your beauty more the fondest lover moves 25 
 
 With admiration than his private loves ; 
 With admiration I for a pitch so high 
 (Save sacred Charles his) never love durst fly. 
 Heaven that preferred a sceptre to your hand, 
 Favoured our freedom more than your command ; 30 
 Beauty had crowned you, and you must have been 
 The whole world's mistress, other than a Queen. 
 All had been rivals, and you might have spared, 
 Or killed, and tyrannized, without a guard. 
 No power achieved, either by arms or birth, 35 
 
 Equals love's empire both in heaven and earth. 
 Such eyes as yours on Jove himself have thrown 
 As bright and fierce a lightning as his own ; 
 Witness our Jove, prevented by their flame 
 In his swift passage to the Hesperian dame ; 40 
 
 When, like a lion, finding, in his way 
 To some intended spoil, a fairer prey. 
 The royal youth pursuing the report 
 Of beauty, found it in the Gallic court ; 
 There public care with private passion fought 45 
 
 A doubtful combat in his noble thought : 
 Should he confess his greatness, and his love. 
 And the free faith of your great brother prove ; 
 With his Achates breaking through the cloud 
 
10 POEMS OF 
 
 Of that disguise which did their graces shroud ; 50 
 
 And mixing with those gallants at the ball, 
 
 Dance with the ladies, and outshine them all ? 
 
 Or on his journey o'er the mountains ride ?— 
 
 So when the fair Leucothoe he espied, 
 
 To check his steeds impatient Phoebus yearned, 55 
 
 Though all the world was in his course concerned. 
 
 What may hereafter her meridian do. 
 
 Whose dawning beauty warmed his bosom so ? 
 
 Not so divine a flame, since deathless gods 
 
 Forbore to visit the defiled abodes 60 
 
 Of men, in any mortal breast did burn ; 
 
 Nor shall, till piety and they return. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. ii 
 
 OF HIS MAJESTY'S RECEIVING THE NEWS 
 OF THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM'S 
 DEATH. 
 
 So earnest with thy God ! can no new care, 
 
 No sense of danger, interrupt thy prayer ? 
 
 The sacred wrestler, till a blessing given. 
 
 Quits not his hold, but halting conquers Heaven ; 
 
 Nor was the stream of thy devotion stopped, 5 
 
 When from the body such a limb was lopped, 
 
 As to thy present state was no less maim. 
 
 Though thy wise choice has since repaired the same. 
 
 Bold Homer durst not so great virtue feign 
 
 In his best pattern : for Patroclus sla,in,^ 10 
 
 With such amazement as weak mothers use. 
 
 And frantic gesture, he receives the news. 
 
 Yet fell his darling by the impartial chance 
 
 Of war, imposed by royal Hector's lance; 
 
 Thine in full peace, and by a vulgar hand 1 5 
 
 Torn from thy bosom, left his high command. 
 
 The famous painter could allow no place 
 For private sorrow in a prince's face : 
 Yet, that his piece might not exceed belief, 
 He cast a veil upon supposed grief. 20 
 
 'Twas want of such a precedent as this 
 Made the old heathen frame their gods amiss. 
 
 I. — 1686, In his best pattern, of Patroclus slain;/oris the 
 reading of the 1645 edition, but there the line ends with a full 
 stop, which I have ventured to remove. 
 
2 POEMS OF 
 
 Their Phoebus should not act a fonder part 
 For their^ fair boy,'' than he did for his hart ; 
 Nor blame for Hyacinthus' fate his own, 25 
 
 That kept from him wished death, hadst thou been 
 known. 
 He that with thine shall weigh' good David's deeds, 
 Shall find his passion, not his love, exceeds : 
 He cursed the mountains where his brave friend died, 
 But let^ false Ziba with his heir divide ; 30 
 
 Where thy immortal love to thy best' friends. 
 Like that of Heaven, upon their seed descends. 
 Such huge extremes inhabit thy great mind. 
 Godlike, unmoved, and yet, like woman, kind ! 
 Which of the ancient poets had not brought 35 
 
 Our Charles's pedigree from Heaven, and taught 
 How some bright dame, compressed by mighty Jove, 
 Produced this mixed Divinity and Love ? 
 
 TO THE KING, 
 ON HIS RETURN FROM SCOTLAND. 
 
 Sedibus emigrans solitis, comitatus inermi 
 Rex turba, simplex et diadema gerens, 
 
 Ecce ! redit bino Carolus diademate cinctus : 
 Haec ubi nuda dedit pompa, quid arma dabunt. 
 
 I.— 1645, 1664, 1668, tlu, 2.— Cyparissus. 
 
 3. — 1645, Yet he that vjeigks •with thine. 
 
 4. — 1645, lets. 5. — 1645, hUst. 
 
EDMUND. WALLER. 13 
 
 OF SALLE. 
 
 Of Jason, Theseus, and such worthies old, 
 
 Light seem the tales antiquity has told ; 
 
 Such beasts and monsters as their force oppressed, 
 
 Some places only, and some times, infest. 
 
 Salle, that scorned all power and laws of men, 5 
 
 Goods with their owners hurrying to their den, 
 
 And future ages threatening with a rude ' 
 
 And savage race, successively renewed ; 
 
 Their king despising with rebellious pride, 
 
 And foes professed to all the world beside ; 10 
 
 This pest of mankind gives our hero fame. 
 
 And through the obliged world dilates his name. 
 
 The Prophet once to cruel Agag said, 
 "As thy fierce sword has mothers childless made, 
 Soshall the sword make thine; ''and with that word 35 
 He hewed the man in pieces with his sword. 
 Just Charles-like measure has returned to these 
 Whose Pagan hands had stained the troubled seas ; 
 With ships they made the spoiled merchant mourn ; 
 With ships their city and themselves are torn. 20 
 
 1.^1645, crude. 
 
14 POEMS OF 
 
 One squadron of our winged castles sent, 
 
 O'erthrew their fort, and all their navy rent ; 
 
 For not content the dangers to increase, 
 
 And act the part of tempests in the seas, 
 
 Like hungry wolves, these pirates from our shore 25 
 
 Whole flocks of sheep, and ravished cattle bore. 
 
 Safely they might ^ on other nations prey, — 
 
 Fools to provoke the sovereign of the sea ! 
 
 Mad Cacus so, whom like ill fate persuades. 
 
 The herd of fair Alcmena's seed invades, 30 
 
 Who for revenge, and mortals' glad relief. 
 
 Sacked the dark cave, and crushed that horrid thief. 
 
 M orocco's monarch, wondering at this fact. 
 Save that his presence his affairs exact, 
 Had come in person to have seen and known 35 
 
 The injured world's revenger and his ovra. 
 Hither he sends the chief among his peers, 
 Who in his bark proportioned ^ presents bears, 
 To the renowned for piety and force. 
 Poor captives manumised, and matchless horse. 40 
 
 T. — 1645, did. 2. — 1645, vieH-:hoseH. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 15 
 
 TO THE KING, ON HIS NAVY. 
 
 Where'er thy navy spreads her canvas wings, 
 
 Homage to thee, and peace to all she brings ; 
 
 The French and Spaniard, when thy flags appear, 
 
 Forget their hatred, and consent to fear. 
 
 So Jove from Ida did both hosts survey, 5 
 
 And when he pleased to thunder part the fray. 
 
 Ships heretofore in seas like fishes sped, 
 
 The mighty still upon the smaller ^ fed ; 
 
 Thou on the deep imposest nobler " laws. 
 
 And by that justice hast removed the cause 10 
 
 Of those rude tempests, which for rapine sent. 
 
 Too oft, alas ! involved the innocent. 
 
 Now shallthe ocean, as thy Thames, be free 
 
 From both those fates, of storms and piracy. 
 
 But we most happy, who can fear no force 1 5 
 
 But winged troops, or Pegasean horse. 
 
 'Tis not so hard for greedy foes to spoil 
 
 Another nation, as to touch our soil. 
 
 Should nature's self invade the world again. 
 
 And o'er the centre spread the liquid main, 20 
 
 Thy power were safe, and her destructive hand 
 
 Would but enlarge the bounds of thy command ; 
 
 Thy dreadful fleet would style thee lord of all, 
 
 And ride in triumph o'er the drowned ball ; 
 
 I. — In all editions previous to 1686, The mightiest still upon 
 the smallest fed. 
 2. — 1645, stricter. 
 
i6 POEMS OF 
 
 Those towers of oak o'er fertile plains might go, 25 
 And visit mountains where they once did grow. 
 
 The world's restorer never could ' endure 
 That finished Babel should those men secure, 
 Whose pride designed that fabric to have stood 
 Above the reach of any second flood ; 3° 
 
 To thee, his chosen, more indulgent, he 
 Dares trust such power with so much piety. 
 
 UPON HIS MAJESTY'S REPAIRING OF 
 PAUL'S. 
 
 That shipwrecked vessel which the Apostle bore, 
 Scarce suffered more upon Melita's shore. 
 Than did his temple in the sea of time, 
 Our nation's glory, and our nation's crime. 
 When the first monarch of this happy isle, 5 
 
 Moved with the ruin of so brave a pile. 
 This work of cost and piety begun, 
 To be accomplished by his glorious son. 
 Who all that came within the ample thought 
 Of his wise sire has to perfection brought ; lo 
 
 He, like Amphion, makes those quarries leap 
 Into fair figures from a confused heap ; 
 For in his art of regiment is found 
 A power like that of harmony in sound. [ij 
 
 Those aniique minstrels sure were Charles-like kings, 
 
 I, — 1645, once could not. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 17 
 
 Cities their lutes, and subjects' hearts their strings, 
 
 On which with so divine a hand they strook, 
 
 Consent of motion from their breath they took : 
 
 So all our minds with his conspire to grace 
 
 The Gentiles' great apostle, and deface 20 
 
 Those state-obscuring sheds, that like a chain 
 
 Seemed to confine and fetter him again ; 
 
 Which the glad saint shakes off at his command, 
 
 As once the viper from his sacred hand : 
 
 So joys the aged oak, when we divide 25 
 
 The creeping ivy from his injured side. 
 
 Ambition rather would affect the fame 
 Of some new structure, to have borne her name. 
 Two distant virtues in one act we find, 
 The modesty and greatness of his mind ; 30 
 
 Which not content to be above the rage, 
 And injury of all-impairing age, 
 In its own worth secure, doth higher climb. 
 And things half swallowed from the jaws of Time 
 Reduce ; an earnest of his grand design, 35 
 
 To frame no new church, but the old refine ; 
 Which, spouse-like, may with comely grace command, 
 More than by force of argument or hand. 
 For doubtful reason few can apprehend. 
 And war brings ruin where it should amend ; 40 
 
 But beauty, with a bloodless conquest, finds 
 A welcome sovereignty in rudest minds. 
 
 Not aught which Sheba's wondering queen beheld 
 Amongst the works of Solomon, excelled 
 
 c 
 
1 8 POEMS OP 
 
 Ilis ships, and building; emblems of a heart 45 
 
 Large both in magnanimity and art. 
 
 While the propitious heavens this work attend, 
 Long-wanted showers they forget to send ; 
 As if they meant to make it understood 
 Of more importance than our vital food. 50 
 
 The sun, which riseth to salute the quire 
 Already finished, setting shall admire 
 How private bounty could so far extend : 
 The King built all, but Charles the western end. 
 So proud a fabric to devotion given, 55 
 
 At once it threatens and obliges heaven I 
 
 Laomedon, that had the gods in pay, 
 Neptune, with him that rules the sacred day, 
 Could no such structure raise : Troy walled so high, 
 The Atrides might as well have forced the sky. 60 
 
 Glad, though amazed, are our neighbour kings, 
 To see such power employed in peaceful things ; 
 They list not urge it to the dreadful field ; 
 The task is easier to destroy than build. 
 
 . . . .Sic gratia reguiu 
 
 Pieriis tentata modis — HoRAT.r 
 
 T. —This quotation (Ars Poetica, 404-5) does not occur in the 
 edition of 1645. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 19 
 
 TO MR. HENRY LAWES, 
 
 WHO HAD THEN NEWLY SET A SONG OF MINE IN 
 THE YEAR 1635.^ 
 
 Verse makes heroic virtue live ; 
 
 But you can life to verses give. 
 
 As when in open air we blow, 
 
 The breath, though strained, sounds flat and low ; 
 
 But if a trumpet take the blast, S 
 
 It lifts it high, and makes it last : 
 
 So in your airs our numbers dressed, 
 
 Make a shrill sally from the breast 
 
 Of nymphs, who, singing what we penned, 
 
 Our passions to themselves commend ; 10 
 
 While love, victorious with thy art. 
 
 Governs at once their voice and heart. 
 
 You by the help of tune and time. 
 Can make that song that was but rhyme. 
 Noy pleading, no man doubts the cause ; 15 
 
 Or questions verses set by Lawes. 
 
 T. — This poem was first printed in "Ayres and Dialogues, 
 For one, two, and tliree voices." By Henry Lawes, London, 
 1653. Folio. 
 
 C 2 
 
o POEMS OF 
 
 As a church window,' thick with paint, 
 Lets in a light but dim and faint ; 
 So others, with division, hide 
 
 The Ught of sense, the poet's pride : 20 
 
 But you alone may truly boast 
 That not a syllable is lost ; 
 The writer's, and the setter's skill 
 At once the ravished ears^ do fill. 
 Let those which only warble long, 25 
 
 And gargle in their throats a song. 
 Content themselves with Ut, Re, Mi : 
 Let words, and sense, be set by thee. 
 
 1. — " Ayres and Dialogues," For as a ivindow. 
 2. — " .\yres and Dialogues,'' ear. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 THE COUNTRY TO MY LADY OF CARLISLE. 
 
 Madam, of all the sacred Muse inspired, 
 
 Orpheus alone could with the woods comply ; 
 
 Their rude inhabitants his song admired, 
 
 And Nature's self, in those that could not lie : 
 
 Your beauty next our solitude invades, 5 
 
 And warms us, shining through the thickest shades. 
 
 Nor ought the tribute which the wondering court 
 
 Pays your fair eyes, prevail with you to scorn 
 
 The answer and consent to that^ report 
 
 Which, echo-like, the country does return : 10 
 
 Mirrors are taught to flatter, but our springs 
 
 Present the impartial images of things. 
 
 A rural judge disposed of beauty's prize ; 
 
 A simple shepherd was preferred to Jove ; 
 
 Down to the mountains from the partial skies, 1 5 
 
 Came Juno, Pallas, and the Queen of Love, 
 
 To plead for that which was so justly given 
 
 To the bright Carlisle of the court of heaven. 
 
 Carlisle ! a name which all our woods are taught. 
 Loud as his Amaryllis, to resound ; 20 
 
 Carlisle ! a name which on the bark is wrought 
 Of every tree that's worthy of the wound. 
 From Phoebus' rage our shadows and our streams 
 May guard us better than from Carlisle's beams. 
 
 I.— 164s, th4. 
 
POEMS OP 
 
 THE COUNTESS OF CARLISI-E IN 
 MOURNING. 
 
 When from black clouds no part of sky is clear, 
 
 But just so much as lets the sun appear. 
 
 Heaven then would seem thy image, and reflect 
 
 Those sable vestments, and that bright aspect. 
 
 A spark of virtue by the deepest shade 5 
 
 Of sad adversity is fairer made ; 
 
 Nor less advantage doth thy beauty get ; 
 
 A Venus rising from a sea of jet ! 
 
 Such was the appearance of new formed light. 
 
 While yet it struggled with eternal night. 10 
 
 Then mourn no more, lest thou admit increase 
 
 Of glory by thy noble lord's decease. 
 
 We find not that the laughter-loving dame 
 
 Mourned for Anchises ; 'twas enough she came 
 
 To grace the mortal with her deathless bed, 15 
 
 And that his living eyes such beauty fed ; 
 
 Had she been there, untimely joy, through all 
 
 Men's hearts dififused, had marred the fiineral. 
 
 Those eyes were made to banish grief : as well 
 
 Bright Phoebus might affect in shades to dwell, 20 
 
 As they to put on sorrow : nothing stands. 
 
 But power to grieve, exempt from thy commands. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 23 
 
 If thou lament, thou must do so alone ; 
 
 Grief in thy presence can lay hold on none. 
 
 Yet still persist the memory to love 25 
 
 Of that great Mercury of our mighty Jove, 
 
 Who, by the power of his enchanting tongue, 
 
 Swords from the hands of threatening monarchs wrung. 
 
 War he prevented, or soon made it cease, 
 
 Instructing princes in the arts of peace ; 30 
 
 Such as made Sheba's curious queen resort 
 
 To the large-hearted Hebrew's famous court. 
 
 Had Homer sat amongst his wondering guests, 
 
 He might have learned at those stupendous feasts, 
 
 With greater bounty, and more sacred state, 35 
 
 The banquets of the gods to celebrate. 
 
 But oh ! what elocution might he use. 
 
 What potent charms, that could so soon infuse 
 
 His absent master's love into the heart 
 
 Of Henrietta ! forcing her to part 40 
 
 From her loved brother, country, and the sun, 
 
 And, like Camilla, o'er the waves to run 
 
 Into his arms ! while the Parisian dames 
 
 Mourn for their ravished glory ; at their^ flames 
 
 No less amaz'd than the amazed stars, 45 
 
 When the bold charmer of Thessalia wars 
 
 With Heaven itself, and numbers does repeat, 
 
 Which call descending Cynthia from her seat. 
 
 I. — 1645, hey. 
 
24 POEMS OF 
 
 IN ANSWER TO ONE WHO WRIT 
 AGAINST A FAIR LADY.^ 
 
 What fury has provoked thy wit to dare, 
 
 With Diomede, to wound the Queen of Love ? 
 
 Thy mistress' envy, or thine own despair ? 
 
 Not the just Pallas in thy breast did move 
 
 So blind a rage, with such a different fate ; 5 
 
 He honour won where thou hast purchased hate. 
 
 She gave assistance to his Trojan foe ; 
 
 Thou, that without a rival thou mayst love, 
 
 Dost to the beauty of this lady owe, 
 
 While after her the gazing world does move. 10 
 
 Canst thou not be content to love alone ? 
 
 Or is thy mistress not content with one ? 
 
 Though Ceres' child could not avoid the rape 
 
 Of the grim god that hurried her to hell, 
 
 Yet there her beauty did from slander 'scape, 1 5 
 
 When thou art there, she shall not speed so well : 
 
 The spiteful owl, whose tale detains her there. 
 
 Is not so blind to say she is not fair. 
 
 I. — 1645, InAttswertoa libell against A^r, ^Sr^r., immediately 
 following the preceding poem, whict is Iteaded as in the text. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 25 
 
 Hast thou not read of Fairy Arthur's shield, 
 
 Which, but disclosed, amazed the weaker eyes 20 
 
 Of proudest foes, and won the doubtful field ? 
 
 So shall thy rebel wit become her prize. 
 
 Should thy iambics swell into a book, 
 
 All were confuted with one radiant look. 
 
 Heaven he obliged that placed her in the skies ; 25 
 
 Rewarding Phoebus, for inspiring so 
 
 His noble brain, by likening to those eyes 
 
 His joyful beams ; but Phoebus is thy foe. 
 
 And neither aids thy fancy nor thy sight. 
 
 So ill thou rhym'st against so fair a light. 30 
 
POBMS OP 
 
 OF HE2 CSAM^SL 
 
 
 
 fBsB far BB OB^ bat to 
 
 Of XDS:^* Bs Tb^has so iiifirMr¥ hrr IrttT^ 
 
EDMUND WALLMJL 27 
 
 TO PHTIXIS. 
 
 Fhtlus! ^aes love dot iqaedjo^ 
 Aad OB Aat mdc jnar Tl^iBt ^nev ; 
 Wbo te pnnd CeSa eoald ha»e AEd, 
 Wight yuM no leg a tumJ hfa pode. 
 
 FaadI.0«eInsdaib;d:iaBdoaidn(M>s 5 
 
 And iK)tihaig[ spnag^ finoHt vdut be amis ; 
 Fnae foes iPmIm i ^ j ^J , as ofiaB BKCt 
 jTifis iliiHii ^ poiBCs OS anxHvs flpffj 
 la tibe wide ar oeal i ig fce^ 
 AsKiakdiatjiMBiaoaedcsae. 10 
 
 Lote aude tibe lo«^ Veaas bam 
 la laia, aadfor Ae cold yoedi BKjan, 
 Wfao fee jwttsait of cIwiiIwIm beasts 
 Pnefened to deepiag oa ber breads. 
 
 LoieaakessaaiaDfbeailsfiie prize 15 
 
 Of die bi^ri: CaiEldei's oooqaeo^ eyes 
 Wbidi die ce^aiidb no BKMie diaa tbef 
 Tbe tcais of leser beaaties woBh. 
 So base I xeea die kst doads poar 
 Into tibe sea a Bides dwiMr ; 20 
 
 And die veied aaSos caise die xaia 
 For ^ndi poor dKphads pEi^ied in rata. 
 TIkb, Fl^fis, sinoe oar ] 
 
POEMS OF 
 
 Governed by chance ; and not the care. 
 
 But sport of Heaven, which takes dehght 25 
 
 To look upon this Parthian fight^ 
 
 Of love, still flying, or in chase, 
 
 Never encountering face to face 
 
 No more to love we'll sacrifice, 
 
 But to the best of deities ; 30 
 
 And let our hearts, which love disjoined. 
 
 By his kind mother be combined. 
 
 TO MR. GEORGE SANDYS, 
 
 ON HIS TRANSLATION OF SOME PARTS OF THE BIBLE. 
 
 How bold a work attempts that pen. 
 Which would enrich our vulgar tongue 
 With the high raptures of those men 
 Who, here, with the same spirit sung 
 Wherewith they now assist the choir 5 
 
 Of angels, who their songs admire ! 
 
 Whatever those inspired souls 
 
 Were urged to express, did shake 
 
 The aged deep, and both the poles ; 
 
 Their numerous thunder could awake 10 
 
 Dull earth, which does with Heaven consent 
 
 To all they wrote, and all they meant. 
 
 I.— i686,^i(r4/. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 29 
 
 Say, sacred bard ! what could bestow 
 
 Courage on thee to soar so high ? 
 
 Tell me, brave friend ! what helped thee so 15 
 
 To shake off all mortality ? 
 
 To Hght this torch, thou hast climbed higher 
 
 Than he who stole celestial fire. 
 
 UPON BEN JONSON. 
 
 Mirror of poets ! mirror of our age ! 
 
 Which her whole face beholding on thy stage, 
 
 Pleased, and displeased, with her own faults, endures 
 
 A remedy like those whom music cures. 
 
 Thou hast alone^ those various inclinations S 
 
 Which Nature gives to ages, sexes, nations, 
 
 So traced^ with thy all-resembling pen. 
 
 That whate'er' custom has imposed on men, 
 
 Or ill-got habit (which deforms them so, 
 
 That scarce a brother can his brother know)* 10 
 
 Is represented to the wondering eyes 
 
 Of all that see, or read, thy comedies. 
 
 J. — Thou not alone. — ** Jonsonus Virbius," 1638. 
 
 I.— Hast traced Ibid. 
 
 2.— But alt that lUd. 
 
 4. — Or ill-got habits (which distort them so 
 
 That scarce the brother can the brother know). Ibid. 
 
30 POEMS OF 
 
 Whoever in those glasses looks, may find 
 
 The spots returned, or graces, of his mind ; 
 
 And by the help of so divine an art, 15 
 
 At leisure view, and dress, his nobler part 
 
 Narcissus, cozened by that flattering well. 
 
 Which nothing could but of his beauty tell, 
 
 Had here, discovering the deformed estate 
 
 Of his fond mind, preserved himself with hate. 20 
 
 But virtue too, as well as vice, is clad 
 
 In flesh and blood so well, that Plato had 
 
 Beheld, what his high fancy once embraced. 
 
 Virtue with colours, speech, and motion graced. 
 
 The sundry postures of thy copious Muse 25 
 
 Who would express, a thousand tongues must use ; 
 
 Whose fate's no less peculiar than thy art ; 
 
 For as thou couldst all characters impart, 
 
 So none could render thine, which still escapes, 
 
 Like Proteus, in variety of shapes ; 30 
 
 Who was nor this, nor that, but all we find. 
 
 And all we can imagine, in mankind. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 31 
 
 TO MY LORD NORTHUMBERLAND, 
 
 DPON THE DEATH OF HIS LADY. 
 
 To this great loss a sea of tears is due ; 
 But the whole debt not to be paid by you. 
 Charge not yourself with all, nor render vain 
 Those showers the eyes of us your servants rain. 
 Shall grief contract the largeness of that heart, 5 
 
 In which nor fear, nor anger, has a part ? 
 Virtue would blush if time should boast (which dries, 
 Her sole child dead, the tender mother's eyes) 
 Your mind's relief, where reason triumphs so 
 Over all passions, that they ne'er could grow 10 
 
 Beyond their limits in your noble breast, 
 To harm another, or impeach your rest. 
 This we observed, delighting to obey 
 One who did never from his great self stray ; 
 Whose mild example seemed to engage 1 5 
 
 The obsequious seas, and teach them not to rage. 
 The brave ^milius, his great' charge laid down, 
 (The force of Rome, and fate of Macedon) 
 In his lost sons did feel the cruel stroke 
 Of changing fortune, and thus highly spoke 20 
 
 I. — This word is omitted in the edition of 1645. 
 
32 POEMS OF 
 
 Before Rome's people : " We did oft implore, 
 
 That if the heavens had any bad^ in store 
 
 For your ^milius, they would pour that ill 
 
 On his own house, and let you^ flourish still." 
 
 You on the barren seas, my lord, have spent 25 
 
 Whole springs and summers to the public lent ; 
 
 Suspended all the pleasures of your life, 
 
 And shortened the short joy of such a wife ; 
 
 For which your country's more obliged than 
 
 For many lives of old less happy men. 30 
 
 You, that have sacrificed so great a part 
 
 Of youth, and private bliss, ought to impart 
 
 Your sorrow too, and give your friends a right 
 
 As well in your affliction as delight. 
 
 Then with jEmilian courage bear this cross, 35 
 
 Since public persons only public loss 
 
 Ought to affect. And though her form and youth. 
 
 Her application to your will and truth, 
 
 That noble sweetness, and that humble state, 
 
 (All snatched away by such a hasty fate !) 40 
 
 Might give excuse to any common breast, 
 
 With the huge weight of so just grief oppressed ; 
 
 Yet let no portion of your life be stained 
 
 With passion, but your character maintained 
 
 To the last act. It is enough her stone 45 
 
 May honoured be with superscription 
 
 Of the sole lady who had power to move 
 
 The great Northumberland to grieve, and love. 
 
 I. — 1645, ill. 2. — 1664, yours. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 33 
 
 TO MY LORD ADMIRAL, 
 
 OF HIS LATE SICKNESS AND RECOVERY. 
 
 With joy like ours, the Thracian youth invades 
 
 Orpheus, returning from the Elysian shades ; 
 
 Embrace the hero, and his stay implore ; 
 
 Make it their public suit he would no more 
 
 Desert them so, and for his spouse's sake, 5 
 
 His vanished love, tempt the Lethean lake. 
 
 The ladies, too, the brightest of that time, 
 
 (Ambitious all his lofty bed to climb) 
 
 Their doubtful hopes with expectation feed. 
 
 Who shall the fair Eurydice succeed: 10 
 
 Eurydice ! for whom his numerous moan 
 
 Makes listening trees and savage mountains groan ; 
 
 Through all the air his sounding strings dilate 
 
 Sorrow, like that which touched our hearts of late. 
 
 Your pining sickness, and your restless pain, 15 
 
 At once the land affecting, and the main. 
 
 When the glad news that you were admiral 
 
 Scarce through the nation spread, 'twas feared by all 
 
 That our great Charles, whose wisdom shines in you, 
 
 Would be perplexed how to choose a new. 20 
 
 So more than private was the joy and grief, 
 
 D 
 
34 POEMS OF 
 
 That at the worst it gave our souJs relief, 
 
 That in our age such sense of virtue lived, 
 
 They joyed so justly, and so justly grieved. 
 
 Nature (her fairest lights eclipsed; seems 25 
 
 Herself to suffer in those sharp extremes ; 
 
 While not from thine alone thy blood retires, 
 
 But from those cheeks which all the world admires. 
 
 The stem thus threatened, and the sap in thee, 
 
 Droop all the branches of that noble tree ! 30 
 
 Their beauty they, and we our love suspend ; 
 
 Nought can our wishes, save thy health, intend. 
 
 As lilies overcharged with rain, they bend 
 
 Their beauteous heads, and with high heaven contend ; 
 
 Fold thee within their snowy arms, and cry — 35 
 
 " He is too faultless, and too young, to die 1 " 
 
 So like immortals round about thee they 
 
 Sit, that they fright approaching death away. 
 
 Who would not languish, by so fair a train 
 
 To be lamented, and restored again? 40 
 
 Or, thus withheld, what hasty soul would go, 
 
 Though to be^ blest ? O'er her^ Adonis so 
 
 Fair Venus mourned, and with the precious shower 
 
 Of her waim tears cherished the springing flower. 
 
 The next support, fair hope of your great name, 45 
 And second pillar of that noble frame, 
 By loss of thee would no advantage have. 
 But step by step pursue thee to the grave. 
 
 I. — 1645, tJie. s. — 1645, youngs 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 35 
 
 And now relentless Fate, about to end 
 The line which backward does so far extend 50 
 
 That antique stock, which still the world supplies 
 With bravest spirits, and with brightest eyes, 
 Kind Phcebus, interposing, bid me say, 
 Such storms no more shall shake that house; but they, 
 Like Neptune, and his sea-born niece, shall be 55 
 The shining glories of the land and sea ; 
 With courage guard, and beauty warm, our age, 
 And lovers fill with like poetic rage. 
 
 TO THE QUEEN MOTHER OF FRANCE, 
 UPON HER LANDING. 
 
 Great Queen of Europe ! where thy offspring wears 
 
 All the chief crowns ; where princes are thy heirs ; 
 
 As welcome thou to sea-girt Britain's shore, 
 
 As erst Latona (who fair Cynthia bore) 
 
 To Delos was ; here shines a nymph as bright, 5 
 
 By thee disclosed, with like increase of light. 
 
 Why was her joy in Belgia confined ?^ 
 
 Or why did you so much regard the wind ? 
 
 Scarce could the ocean, though enraged, have tossed 
 
 Thy sovereign bark, but where the obsequious coast 10 
 
 Pays tribute to thy bed. Rome's conquering hand 
 
 I. — 1645, so confined. 
 
36 POEMS OF 
 
 More vanquished nations under her command 
 
 Never reduped. Glad Berecynthia so 
 
 Among her deathless progeny did go ; 
 
 A wreath of towers^ adorned her reverend head, 15 
 
 Mother of all that on ambrosia fed. 
 
 Thy godlike race must sway the age to come, 
 
 As she Olympus peopled with her womb. 
 
 Would those commanders of mankind obey 
 Their honoured parent, all pretences lay 20 
 
 Down at your royal feet, compose their jars. 
 And on the growing Turk discharge these wars, 
 The Christian knights that sacred tomb should wrest 
 From Pagan hands, and triumph o'er the East ; 
 Our England's Prince, and Gallia's Dauphin, might 
 Like young Rinaldo and Tancredo fight ; [25 
 
 In single combat by their swords again 
 The proud Argantes and fierce Soldan slain ; 
 Again might we their valiant deeds recite. 
 And with your Tuscan Muse exalt the fight. 30 
 
 I-— This is the readmg of the edition of 1645 ; the later editions 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 37 
 
 UPON THE DEATH OF MY LADY RICH. 
 
 May those already cursed Essexian plains, 
 
 Where hasty death and pining sickness reigns, 
 
 Prove all a desert ! and none there make stay, 
 
 But savage beasts, or men as wild as they ! 
 
 There the fair light which all our island graced, 5 
 
 Like Hero's taper in the window placed, 
 
 Such fate from the malignant air did find. 
 
 As that exposed to the boisterous wind. 
 
 Ah, cruel Heaven ! to snatch so soon away 
 Her for whose life, had we had time to pray, 10 
 
 With thousand vows and tears we should have 
 
 sought 
 That sad decree's suspension to have wrought. 
 But we, alas, no whisper of her pain 
 Heard, till 'twas sin to wish her here again. 
 That horrid word, at once, like lightning spread, 1 5 
 Struck all our ears — The Lady Rich is dead ! 
 Heartrending news ! and dreadful to those few 
 Who her resemble, and her steps pursue ; 
 That Death should license have to rage among 
 The fair, the wise, the virtuous, and the young- ! 20 
 
 The Paphian queen from that fierce battle borne, 
 With gored hand, and veil so rudely torn. 
 
38 POEMS OF 
 
 Like terror did among the immortals breed, 
 Taught by her wound that goddesses may^ bleed. 
 
 All stand amazed ! but beyond the rest 25 
 
 The heroic dame whose happy womb she blessed, 
 Moved with just grief, expostulates with Heaven, 
 Urging the^ promise to the obsequious given, 
 Of longer life ; for ne'er was pious soul 
 More apt to obey, more worthy to control. 30 
 
 A skilful eye at once might read the race 
 Of Caledonian monarchs in her face. 
 And sweet humility ; her look and mind 
 At once were lofty, and at once were kind. 
 There dwelt the scorn of vice, and pity too, 35 
 
 For those that did what she disdained to do ; 
 So gentle and severe, that what was bad, 
 At once her hatred and her pardon had. 
 Gracious to all ; but where her love was due. 
 So fast, so faithful, loyal, and so true, 40 
 
 That a bold hand as soon might hope to force 
 The rolling lights of Heaven as change her course. 
 
 Some happy angel, that beholds her there, 
 Instruct us to record what she was here ! 
 And when this cloud of sorrow's overblown, 45 
 
 Through the wide world we'll make her graces known. 
 So fresh the wound is, and the grief so vast, 
 That all our art and power of speech is waste. 
 Here passion sways, but there the Muse shall raise 
 Eternal monuments of louder praise. 50 
 
 I. — 1645, might, 2. — 1645, thut. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 39 
 
 There our delight, complying with her fame, 
 Shall have occasion to recite thy name. 
 Fair Sacharissa ! — and now only fair ! 
 To sacred friendship we'll an altar rear, 
 (Such as the Romans did erect of old) 55 
 
 Where, on a marble pillar, shall be told 
 The lovely passion each to other bare, 
 With the resemblance of that matchless pair. 
 Narcissus to the thing for which he pined. 
 Was not more like than yours to her fair mind, 60 
 Save that she graced the several parts of life, 
 A spotless virgin, and a faultless wife. 
 Such was the sweet converse 'twixt her and you. 
 As that she holds with her associates now. 
 
 How false is hope, and how regardless fate, 65 
 
 That such a love should have so short a date ! 
 Lately I saw her sighing part from thee ; 
 (Alas that such^ the last farewell should be !) 
 So looked Astrsea, her remove designed. 
 On those distressed friends she left behind. 70 
 
 Consent in virtue knit your hearts so fast. 
 That still the knot, in spite of death, does last ; 
 For as your tears, and sorrow-wounded soul. 
 Prove well that on your part this bond is whole. 
 So all we know of what they do above, 75 
 
 Is that they happy are, and that they love. 
 Let dark oblivion, and the hollow grave, 
 
 I. — 1645, that. 
 
40 POEMS OF 
 
 Content themselves our frailer thoughts to have ; 
 
 Well chosen love is never taught to die, 
 
 But with our nobler part invades the sky. 80 
 
 Then grieve no more that one so heavenly shaped 
 
 The crooked hand of trembling age escaped ; 
 
 Rather, since we beheld not her decay, 
 
 But that she vanished so entire away, 
 
 Her wondrous beauty, and her goodness, merit 85 
 
 We should suppose that some propitious spirit 
 
 In that celestial form frequented here. 
 
 And is not dead, but ceases to appear. 
 
 THYRSIS, GALATEA. 
 
 THYRSIS. 
 
 As lately I on silver Thames did ride. 
 Sad Galatea on the bank I spied ; 
 Such was her look as sorrow taught to shine. 
 And thus she graced me with a voice divine. 
 
 GALATEA. 
 
 You that can tune your sounding strings so well, 5 
 Of ladies' beauties, and of love to tell. 
 Once change your note, and let your lute report 
 The justest grief that ever touched the Court. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 41 
 
 Fair nymph ! I have in your delights no share, 
 Nor ought to be concerned in your care ; 10 
 
 Yet would I sing if I your sorrows knew, 
 And to my aid invoke no muse but you. 
 
 GALATEA. 
 
 Hear then, and let your song augment our grief, 
 Which is so great as not to wish relief. 
 She that had all which Natures gives, or Chance, 15 
 Whom Fortune joined with Virtue to advance 
 To all the joys this island could afford. 
 The greatest mistress, and the kindest lord ; 
 Who with the royal mixed her noble blood, 
 And in high grace with Gloriana stood ; 20 
 
 Her bounty, sweetness, beauty, goodness, such. 
 That none e'er thought her happiness too much ; 
 So well-inclined her favours to confer. 
 And kind to all, as Heaven had been to her ! 
 The virgin's part, the mother, and the wife, 25 
 
 So well she acted in this span of life. 
 That though few years (too few, alas !) she told. 
 She seemed in all things, but in beauty, old. 
 As unripe fruit, whose verdant stalks do' cleave 
 Close to the tree, which grieves no less to leave 30 
 
 1.-1645, stalk does. 
 
42 POEMS OF 
 
 The smiling pendant which adorns her so, 
 
 And until autumn on the bough should grow ; 
 
 So seemed her youthful soul not easily forced, 
 
 Or from so fair, so sweet, a seat divorced. 
 
 Her fate at once did hasty seem and slow ; 35 
 
 At once too cruel, and unwilling too. 
 
 Under how hard a law are mortals bom ! 
 Whom now we envy, we anon must mourn ; 
 What Heaven sets highest, and seems most to prize. 
 Is soon removed from our wondering eyes ! 40 
 
 But since the Sisters did so soon untwine 
 So fair a thread, I'll strive to piece the line. 
 Vouchsafe, sad njrmph ! to let me know the dame. 
 And to the muses I'll commend her name ; 
 Make the wide country echo to your moan, 45 
 
 The listening trees and savage mountains groan. 
 What rock's not moved when the death is sung 
 Of one so good, so lovely, and so young ? 
 
 GALATEA. 
 
 'Twas Hamilton ! — whom I had named before. 
 But naming her, grief lets me say no more. 50 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 43 
 
 ON MY LADY DOROTHY SIDNEY'S 
 PICTURE. 
 
 Such was Philoclea, such Musidorus' flame ! * 
 
 The matchless Sidney, that immortal frame 
 
 Of perfect beauty on two pillars placed j 
 
 Not his high fancy could one pattern, graced 
 
 With such extremes of excellence, compose ; S 
 
 Wonders so distant in one face disclose ! 
 
 Such cheerful modesty, such humble state, 
 
 Moves certain love, but with a^ doubtful fate 
 
 As when, beyond our greedy reach, we see 
 
 Inviting fruit on too sublime a tree. 10 
 
 All the rich flowers through his Arcadia found. 
 
 Amazed we see in this one garland bound. 
 
 Had but this copy (which the artist took 
 
 From the fair picture of that noble book) 
 
 Stood at Calander's, the brave friends had jarred, 15 
 
 And, rivals made, the ensuing story marred. 
 
 Just nature, first instructed by his thought. 
 
 In his own house thus practised what he taught ; 
 
 This glorious piece transcends what he could think. 
 
 So much his blood is nobler than his ink ! 20 
 
 I. — 1645, Such was Philocleas, such Dorus' J^ame, 
 2. — X664 and 1682, as. 
 
44 POEMS OF 
 
 TO VANDYCK. 
 
 Rare Artisan, whose pencil moves 
 
 Not our delights alone, but loves ! 
 
 From thy shop of beauty we 
 
 Slaves return, that entered free. 
 
 The heedless lover does not know 5 
 
 Whose eyes they are that wound him so ; 
 
 But, confounded with thy art. 
 
 Inquires her name that has his heart. 
 
 Another, who did long refrain, 
 
 Feels his old wound bleed fresh again 10 
 
 With dear remembrance of that face, 
 
 Where now he reads new hopes of grace : 
 
 Nor scorn nor cruelty does iind. 
 
 But gladly suffers a false wind 
 
 To blow the ashes of despair 15 
 
 From the reviving brand of care. 
 
 Fool ! that forgets her stubborn look 
 
 This softness from thy finger took. 
 
 Strange ! that thy hand should not inspire 
 
 The beauty only, but the fire ; 20 
 
 Not the form alone, and grace. 
 
 But act and power of a face. 
 
 Mayst thou yet thyself as well, 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 45 
 
 As all the world besides, excel ! 
 
 So you the unfeigned truth rehearse 25 
 
 (That I may make it live in verse) 
 
 Why thou couldst not at one assay, 
 
 That face to aftertimes convey, 
 
 Which this admires. Was it thy wit 
 
 To make her oft before thee sit ? 30 
 
 Confess, and we'll forgive thee this ; 
 
 For who would not repeat that bliss ? 
 
 And frequent sight of such a dame 
 
 Buy with the hazard of his fame ? 
 
 Yet who can tax thy blameless skill, 35 
 
 Though thy good hand had failed still. 
 
 When nature's self so often errs ? 
 
 She for this many thousand years 
 
 Seems to have practised with much care, 
 
 To frame the race of women fair ; 40 
 
 Yet never could a perfect birth 
 
 Produce before to grace the earth. 
 
 Which waxed old ere it could see 
 
 Her that amazed thy art and thee. 
 
 But now 'tis done, O let me know 45 
 
 Where those immortal colours grow, 
 That could this deathless piece compose ! 
 In lilies ? or the fading rose ? 
 No ; for this theft thou hast chmbed higher 
 Than did Prometheus for his fire. 50 
 
46 POEMS OF 
 
 AT PENSHURST. 
 
 Had Sacharissa^ lived when mortals made 
 
 Choice of their deities, this sacred shade 
 
 Had held an altar to her^ power, that gave 
 
 The peace and glory which these alleys have ; 
 
 Embroidered so with flowers where she stood, 5 
 
 That it became a garden of a wood. 
 
 Her presence has such more than human grace, 
 
 That it can civilize the rudest place ; 
 
 And beauty too, and order, can impart. 
 
 Where nature ne'er intended it, nor art. 10 
 
 The plants acknowledge this, and her admire. 
 
 No less than those of old did Orpheus' lyre ; 
 
 If she sit down, with tops all towards her bowed, 
 
 They round about her into arbours crowd ; 
 
 Or if she walk, in even ranks they stand, 1 5 
 
 Like some well-marshalled and obsequious band. 
 
 Amphion so made stones and timber leap 
 
 Into fair figures from a confused heap ; 
 
 And in the symmetry of her parts is found 
 
 A power like that of harmony in sound. 20 
 
 Ye lofty beeches, tell this matchless dame, 
 That if together ye fed all one flame, 
 
 I. — 1645, DoT<}thea. 2. — 1645, the. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 47 
 
 It could not equalize the hundredth part 
 
 Of what her eyes have kindled in my heart ! 
 
 Go, boy, and carve this passion on the bark 25 
 
 Of yonder tree, which stands the sacred mark 
 
 Of noble Sidney's birth ; when such benign, 
 
 Such more than mortal making stars did shine. 
 
 That there they cannot but for ever prove 
 
 The monument and pledge of humble love ; 30 
 
 His humble love whose hope shall ne'er rise higher, 
 
 Than for a pardon that he dares admire. 
 
 TO MY LORD OF LEICESTER. 
 
 Not that thy trees at Penshurst groan. 
 Oppressed with their timely load, 
 And seem to make their silent moan, 
 That their great lord is now abroad : 
 They to delight his taste, or eye, 
 Would spend themselves in fruit, and die. 
 
 Not that thy harmless deer repine, 
 
 And think themselves unjustly slain 
 
 By any other hand than thine. 
 
 Whose arrows they would gladly stain ; 
 
 No, nor thy friends, which hold too dear 
 
 That peace with France which keeps thee there. 
 
48 POEMS OF 
 
 All these are less than that great cause 
 
 Which now exacts youi; presence here, 
 
 Wherein there meet the divers laws 15 
 
 Of public and domestic care. 
 
 For one bright nymph our youth contends, 
 
 And on your prudent choice depends. 
 
 Not the bright shield of Thetis' son, 
 
 (For which such stern debate did rise, 20 
 
 That the great Ajax Telamon 
 
 Refused to live without the prize) 
 
 Those Achive peers did more engage, 
 
 Than she the gallants of our age. 
 
 That beam of beauty, which begun 25 
 
 To warm us so when thou wert here. 
 
 Now scorches like the raging sun. 
 
 When Sirius does first appear. 
 
 O fix this flame ! and let despair 
 
 Redeem the rest from endless care. 30 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 49 
 
 OF THE LADY WHO CAN SLEEP WHEN 
 SHE PLEASES. 
 
 No wonder sleep from careful lovers flies, 
 
 To bathe himself in Sacharissa's eyes. 
 
 As fair Astrsea once from earth to heaven, 
 
 By strife and loud impiety was driven ; 
 
 So with our plaints offended, and our tears, S 
 
 Wise Somnus to that paradise repairs ; 
 
 Waits on her will, and wretches does forsake. 
 
 To court the nymph for whom those wretches wake. 
 
 More proud tlian Phoebus of his throne of gold 
 
 Is the soft god those softer limbs to hold ; 10 
 
 Nor would exchange with Jove to hide the skies 
 
 In darkening clouds, the power to close her eyes ; 
 
 Eyes which so far all other lights control, 
 
 They warm our mortal parts, but these our soul ! 
 
 Let her free spirit, whose unconquered breast 15 
 Holds such deep quiet and untroubled rest. 
 Know that though Venus and her son should spare 
 Her rebel heart, and never teach her care, 
 Yet Hymen may enforce her^ vigils keep. 
 And for another's joy suspend her sleep. 20 
 
 I. — Fenton altered this, admittedly without authority, but, 
 as he hoped, for the better, to Yet Hymen may in force his 
 vigils keep. 
 
50 POEMS OF 
 
 OF THE MISREPORT OF HER BEING 
 PAINTED. 
 
 As when a sort of wolves infest the night 
 With their wild howlings at fair Cynthia's light, 
 The noise may chase sweet slumber from our eyes, 
 But never reach the mistress of the skies ; 
 So with the news of Sacharissa's wrongs S 
 
 Her vexed servants blame those envious tongues ; 
 Call Love to witness that no painted fire 
 Can scorch men so, or kindle such desire ; 
 While, unconcerned, she seems moved no more 
 With this new malice than our loves before ; 10 
 
 But from the height of her great mind looks down 
 On both our passions without smile or frown. 
 So little caire of what is done below 
 Hath the bright dame whom heaven affecteth so ! 
 Paints her, 'tis true, with the same hand which 
 spreads 15 
 
 Like glorious colours through the flowery meads, 
 Vv'hen lavish Nature, with her best attire, 
 Clothes the gay spring, the season of desire ; 
 Paints her, 'tis true, and does her cheek adorn 
 With the same art wherewith she paints the morn ; 20 
 With the same art wherewith she gildeth so 
 Those painted clouds which form Thaumanlias' bow. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 OF HER PASSING' THROUGH A CROWD 
 OF PEOPLE. 
 
 As in old chaos (heaven with earth confused, 
 
 And stars with rocks together crushed and bruised) 
 
 The sun his light no further could extend 
 
 Than the next hill, which on his shoulders leaned ; 
 
 So in this throng bright Sacharissa fared, 5 
 
 Oppressed by those who strove to be her guard ; 
 
 As ships, though never so obsequious, fall 
 
 Foul in a tempest on their admiral. 
 
 A greater favour this disorder brought 
 
 Unto her servants than their awful thought lo 
 
 Durst entertain, when thus compelled they pressed 
 
 The yielding marble of her snowy breast. 
 
 While love insults, disguised in the cloud. 
 
 And welcome force, of that unruly crowd. 
 
 So the amorous tree, while yet the air is calm, 1 5 
 
 Just distance keeps from his desired palm ; 
 
 But when the wind her ravished branches throws 
 
 Into his arms, and mingles all their boughs. 
 
 Though loath he seems her tender leaves to press. 
 
 More loath he is that friendly storm should cease, 20 
 
 From whose rude bounty he the double use 
 
 At once receives, of pleasure and excuse. 
 
 E 2 
 
POEMS OF 
 
 THE STORY OF PHCEBUS AND DAPPINE, 
 APPLIED. 
 
 Thyrsis, a youth of the inspired train, 
 
 Fair Sacharissa loved, but loved in vain. 
 
 Like Phoebus sung the no less amorous boy ; 
 
 Like Daphne she, as lovely, and as coy ! 
 
 With numbers he the flying nymph pursues, 5 
 
 With numbers such as Phoebus' self might use ! 
 
 Such is the chase when Love and Fancy leads. 
 
 O'er craggy mountains, and through flovvery meads ; 
 
 Invoked to testify the lover's care, 
 
 Or form some im^e of his cruel fair. 10 
 
 Urged with his fury, like a wounded deer. 
 
 O'er these he fled ; and now approaching near. 
 
 Had reached the nymph vrith his harmonious lay, 
 
 Whom all his charms could not incline to stay. 
 
 Yet what he sung in his immortal strain, 15 
 
 Though unsuccessful, was not sung in vain ; 
 
 All, but the nymph that should redress his wrong, 
 
 Attend his passion, and approve his song. 
 
 Like Phoebus thus, acquiring unsought praise. 
 
 He catched at love, and filled his arm with bays. 20 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 53 
 
 TABULA PHCEBI ET DAPHNES. 
 
 ArcadIjE juvenis Thyrsis, Phoebique sacerdos, 
 Ingenti frustra Sacharissse^ ardebat amore. 
 Haud Deus ipse olim Daphni majora canebat ; 
 Nee fuit asperior Daphne, nee pulehrior ilia : 
 Carminibus Phoebo dignis premit ille fugaeem 5 
 
 Per rapes, per saxa, volans per florida vates 
 Pascua : formosam nunc his componere nympham. 
 Nunc illis crudelem insana mente solebat. 
 Audiit ilia procul miserum, cytharamque sonantem ; 
 Audiit, at nullis respexit mota querelis ! 10 
 
 Ne tamen omnino caneret desertus, ad alta 
 Sidera perculsi referunt nova carmina monies. 
 Sic, non qusesitis cumulatus laudibus, olim 
 ElapsS reperit Daphne sua laurea Phcebus. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Say, lovely dream ! where couldst thou find 
 ■ Shades^ to counterfeit that face ? 
 Colours of this glorious kind 
 Come not from any mortal place. 
 
 In heaven itself thou sure wert dressed 
 With that angel-like disguise : 
 Thus deluded am I blessed, 
 And see my joy with closed eyes. 
 
 I.— 164s, Galaiea. 2.— 1685, Shudmus. 
 
54 POEMS OF 
 
 But ah ! this image is too kind 
 
 To be other than a dream ; 10 
 
 Cruel Sacharissa's mind 
 
 Never put on that sweet extreme ! 
 
 Fair dream ! if thou intend'st me grace, 
 
 Change that heavenly face^ of thine ; 
 
 Paint despised love in thy face, 1 5 
 
 And make it to appear like mine. 
 
 Pale, wan, and meagre let it look, 
 
 With a pity-moving shape, 
 
 Such as wander by the brook 
 
 Of I^ethe, or from graves escape. 20 
 
 Then to that matchless nymph appear. 
 In whose shape thou shinest so ; 
 Softly in her sleeping ear, 
 With humble words, express my woe. 
 
 Perhaps from greatness, state, and pride, 25 
 
 Thus surprised she may fall ; 
 Sleep does disproportion hide. 
 And, death resembling, equals all. 
 
 I. — 164s, this heavenly /o7in. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 55 
 
 TO THE SERVANT OF A FAIR LADY.i 
 
 Fair fellow-servant ! may your gentle ear 
 Prove more propitious to my slighted care 
 Than the bright dame's vpe serve : for her relief 
 (Vexed with the long expressions of my grief) 
 Receive these plaints ; nor will her high disdain 5 
 Forbid my humble muse to court her train. 
 
 So, in those nations which the sun adore, 
 Some modest Persian, or some weak-eyed Moor, 
 No higher dares advance his dazzled sight, 
 Than to some gilded cloud, which near the light 10 
 Of their ascending god adorns the east. 
 And, graced with his beams, outshines the rest. 
 
 Thy skilful hand contributes to our woe, 
 And whets those arrows which confound us so. 
 A thousand Cupids in those curls do sit, 15 
 
 Those curious nets thy slender fingers knit. 
 The Graces put not more exactly on 
 The attire of Venus, when the ball she won, 
 Than that young Beauty^ by thy care is dressed, 
 
 1. — In the edition of 1645 these lines are headed, 71? Mistris 
 Bra-ugkton ; they were omitted from the editions of 1664 and 
 1668, but reappeared in that of 1682 (with the above heading), 
 with the exception of six lines, beginning at So in ikose nations, 
 which Keck says were omitted by the author's direction. 
 
 2. — 1645, Sacharissa. 
 
56 POEMS OF 
 
 When all our youth prefers her to the rest. 20 
 
 You the soft season^ know when best her mind 
 May be to pity, or to love, inclined : 
 In some well-chosen hour supply his fear. 
 Whose hopeless love durst never tempt the ear 
 Of that stern goddess. You, her priest, declare 25 
 What offerings may propitiate the fair ; 
 Rich orient pearl, bright- stones that ne'er decay. 
 Or polished lines, which longer last than they ; 
 For if I thought she took delight in those. 
 To where the cheerful morn does first disclose, 30 
 (The shady night removing with her beams) 
 Winged with bold love, I'd fly to fetch such gems. 
 But since her eyes, her teeth, her lip excels 
 All that is found in mines or fishes' shells. 
 Her nobler part as far exceeding these, 35 
 
 None but immortal gifts her mind should^ please. 
 The shining jewels Greece and Troy bestowed 
 On Sparta's queen,' her lovely neck did load. 
 And snowy wrists ; but when the town was burned, 
 Those fading glories were to ashes turned ; 40 
 
 Her beauty, too, had perished, and her fame, 
 Had not the muse redeemed them from the flame. 
 
 -1645, seasons. 2. — 1645, can. 
 
 -1645, Those shining je-wels Greece and Troy bestow d. 
 
 The snowy wrists and lovely neck did lode 
 
 0/Sparta*s Queen, 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 57 
 
 TO A VERY YOUNG LADY.' 
 
 Why came I so untimely forth 
 Into a world which, wanting thee, 
 Could entertain us with no worth 
 Or shadow of fehcity. 
 That time should me so far remove 
 From that which I was born to love ? 
 
 Yet, fairest blossom ! do not slight 
 
 That age which you may know so soon ; 
 
 The rosy morn resigns her light. 
 
 And milder glory, to the noon ; 10 
 
 And then what wonders shall you do, 
 
 Whose dawning beauty warms us so ? 
 
 Hope waits upon the flowery -prime ; 
 
 And summer, though it be less gay, 
 
 Yet is not looked on as a time 15 
 
 Of declination or decay ; 
 
 For with a full hand that does bring 
 
 All that was promised by the spring. 
 
 I. — 1645, To my young Lady Lucy Sidney . 
 
58 POEMS OF 
 
 TO AMORET. 
 
 Fair ! that you may truly know 
 What you unto Thyrsis owe, 
 I will tell you how I do 
 Sacharissa love and you. 
 
 Joy salutes me, when I set 
 My blessed eyes on Amoret ; 
 But with wonder I am strook, 
 When I on the other look. 
 
 If sweet Amoret complains, 
 I have sense of all her pains ; 
 But for Sacharissa I 
 Do not only grieve, but die. 
 
 All that of myself is mine, 
 Lovely Amoret ! is thine ; 
 Sacharissa's captive fain 
 Would untie his iron chain, 
 And, those scorching beams to shun, 
 To thy gentle shadow run. 
 
 If the soul had free election 
 To dispose of her affection, 
 I would not thus long have borne 
 Haughty Sacharissa's scorn ; 
 But 'tis sure some power above, 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 59 
 
 Which controls our will in love ! 
 
 If not love, a strong desire 25 
 
 To create and spread that fire 
 In my breast, solicits me, 
 Beauteous Amoret ! for thee 
 
 'Tis amazement more than love. 
 Which her radiant eyes do move ; 30 
 
 If less splendour wait on thine, 
 Yet they so benignly shine, 
 I would turn my dazzled sight 
 To behold their milder light ; 
 But as hard 'tis to destroy 35 
 
 That high flame, as to enjoy ; 
 Which how easily I may do. 
 Heaven (as easily scaled) does know ! 
 
 Amoret 1 as sweet and good 
 As the most delicious food, 40 
 
 Which, but tasted, does impart 
 Life and gladness to the heart. 
 
 Sacharissa's beauty's wine, 
 Which to madness doth incline ; 
 Such a liquor as no brain 45 
 
 That is mortal can sustain. 
 
 Scarce can I to heaven excuse 
 The devotion which I use 
 Unto that adored dame 
 For 'tis not unlike the same 50 
 
 Which I thither ought to send ; 
 So that if it could take end. 
 
6o POEMS OF 
 
 'Twould to heaven itself be due 
 
 To succeed her, and not you, 
 
 Who already have of me 55 
 
 All that's not idolatry ; 
 
 Which, though not so fierce a flame, 
 
 Is longer like to be the same. 
 
 Then sttiile on me, and I will prove 
 Wonder is shorter-lived than love. 60 
 
 ON THE FRIENDSHIP BETWIXT TWO 
 LADIES.^ 
 
 Tell me, lovely, loving pair ! 
 Why so kind, and so severe ? 
 Why so careless of our care, 
 Only to yourselves so dear ? 
 
 By this cunning change of hearts, 5 
 
 You the power of love control ; 
 While the boy's deluded darts 
 Can arrive at neither^ soul. 
 
 I. — 1645, On the Friendship betwixt Sacharissa a',td 
 A moret. 
 
 2. — 1645, neither s. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 61 
 
 For in vain to either breast 
 
 Still beguiled love does come, 10 
 
 Where he finds a foreign guest, 
 
 Neither of your hearts at home. 
 
 Debtors thus with like design, 
 
 When they never mean to pay. 
 
 That they may the law decline, 15 
 
 To some friend make all away. 
 
 Not the silver doves that fly. 
 
 Yoked in Cytherea's car ; 
 
 Not the wings that lift so high, 
 
 And convey her son so far ; 20 
 
 Are so lovely, sweet, and fair, 
 Or do more ennoble love ; 
 Are so choicely matched a pair, 
 Or with more consent do move. 
 
62 POEMS OF 
 
 ON HER COMING TO LONDON. 
 
 What's she, so late from Penshurst come, 
 More gorgeous than the mid-day sun, 
 
 That all the world amazes ? 
 Sure 'tis some angel from above. 
 Or 'tis the Cyprian Queen of Love 
 
 Attended by the Graces. 
 
 Or is't not Juno, Heaven's great dame, 
 Or Pallas armed, as on she came 
 
 To assist the Greeks in fight, 
 Or Cynthia, that huntress bold. 
 Or from old Tithon's bed so cold, 
 
 Aurora chasing night ? 
 
 No, none of those, yet one that shall 
 Compare, perhaps exceed them all, 
 
 For beauty, wit, and birth ; 1 5 
 
 As good as great, as chaste as fair, 
 A brighter nymph none breathes the air. 
 
 Or treads upon the earth. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 63 
 
 'Tis Dorothfee, a maid high-born, 
 
 And lovely as the blushing morn, 20 
 
 Of noble Sidney's race, 
 Oh ! could you see into [her] mind, 
 The beauties there locked-up outshine 
 
 The beauties of her face. 
 
 Fair Dorothea, sent from heaven 25 
 
 To add more vponders to the seven, 
 
 And glad each eye and ear, 
 Crown of her sex, the Muse's port. 
 The glory of our English court, 
 
 The brightness of our sphere. 30 
 
 To welcome her the Spring breathes forth 
 Elysian sweets, March strews the earth 
 
 With violets and posies. 
 The sun renews his [dajrting fires, 
 April puts on her best attires, 35 
 
 And May her crown of roses. 
 
 Go, happy maid, increase the store 
 Of graces born with you, [and] more 
 
 Add to their number still ; 
 So neither all-consuming age, 40 
 
 Nor envy's blast, nor fortune's rage 
 
 Shall ever work you ill. 
 
64 POEMS OF 
 
 AT PENSHURST. 
 
 While in the^ park I sing, the listening deer 
 
 Attend my passion, and forget to fear. 
 
 When to the beeches I report my flame, 
 
 They bow their heads, as if they felt the same. 
 
 To gods appealing, when I reach their bowers 5 
 
 With loud complaints, they answer me in showers. 
 
 To thee a wild and cruel soul is given. 
 
 More deaf than trees, and prouder than the heaven ! 
 
 Love's foe professed ! why dost thou falsely feign 
 
 Thyself a Sidney ? from which noble strain 10 
 
 He sprung, that could so far exalt the name 
 
 Of love, and warm our nation with his flame ; 
 
 That all we can of love, or high desire, 
 
 Seems but the smoke of amorous Sidney's fire. 
 
 Nor call her mother, who so well does prove 1 5 
 
 One breast may hold both chastity and love. 
 
 Never can she, that so exceeds the spring 
 
 In joy and bounty, be supposed to bring 
 
 One so destructive. To no human stock 
 
 We owe this fierce unkindness, but the rock, 20 
 
 That cloven rock produced thee, by whose side 
 
 Nature, to recompense the fatal pride 
 
 I. — 1645, this. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 65 
 
 Of such stern beauty, placed those healing springs, 
 Which not more help, than that destruction, brings. 
 Thy heart no ruder than the rugged^ stone, 25 
 
 I might,- like Orpheus, with my numerous moan 
 Melt to compassion ; now, my traitorous song 
 With thee conspires to do the singer wrong ; 
 While thus I suffer not myself to lose 
 The memory of what augments my woes ; 30 
 
 But with my own breath still foment the fire. 
 With flames as high as fancy can aspire ! 
 
 This last complaint the indulgent ears did^ pierce 
 Of just Apollo, president of verse ; 
 Highly concerned that the muse should bring 3$ 
 
 Damage to one whom he had taught to sing. 
 Thus he advised me : " On yon aged tree 
 Hang up thy lute, and hie thee to the sea. 
 That there with wonders thy diverted mind 
 Some truce, at least, may with this passion' find." 40 
 Ah, cruel nymph ! from whom her humble swain 
 Flies for relief unto the raging main, 
 And from the winds and tempests does expect 
 A milder fate than from her cold neglect ! 
 Yet there he'll pray that the unkind may prove 45 
 Blessed in her choice ; and vows this endless love 
 Springs from no hope of what she can confer, 
 But from those gifts which heaven has heaped on her. 
 
 I. — 1645, that ragged. 2. — 1645, does. 
 
 3. — 1645, may with affifttion Jind. 
 
66 POEMS OF 
 
 THE BATTLE OF THE SUMMER ISLANDS. 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 What fruits they have, and how Heaven smiles 
 Upon those late-discovered isles. 
 
 Aid me, Bellona ! while the dreadful fight 
 Betwixt a nation and two whales I write. 
 Seas stained with gore I sing, adventurous toil, 
 And how these monsters did disarm an isle. 
 
 Bermudas, walled with rocks, who does not know ? 
 That happy island where huge lemons grow, [5 
 
 And orange trees, which golden fruit do bear, 
 The Hesperian garden boasts of none so fair ; 
 Where shining pearl, coral, and many a pound, 
 On the rich shore, of ambergris is found. 10 
 
 The lofty cedar, which to heaven aspires, 
 The prince of trees ! is fuel for their fires ; 
 The smoke by which their loaded spits do turn. 
 For incense might on sacred altars bum ; 
 Their private roofs on odorous timber borne, 1 5 
 
 Such as might palaces for kings adorn. 
 The sweet palmettos a new Bacchus yield. 
 With leaves as ample as the broadest shield, 
 Under the shadow of whose friendly boughs 
 They sit, carousing where their liquor grows. 20 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 67 
 
 Figs there unplanted through the fields do grow, 
 
 Such as fierce Cato did the Romans show, 
 
 With the rare fruit inviting them to spoil 
 
 Carthage, the mistress of so rich a soil. 
 
 The naked rocks are not unfruitful there, 25 
 
 But, at some constant seasons, every year, 
 
 Their barren tops with luscious food abound. 
 
 And with the eggs of various fowls are crowned. 
 
 Tobacco is the worst of things, which they 
 
 To English landlords, as their tribute, pay. 30 
 
 Such is the mould, that the blessed tenant feeds 
 
 On precious fruits, and pays his rent in weeds. 
 
 With candied plantains, and the juicy pine, 
 
 On choicest melons, and sweet grapes, they dine, 
 
 And with potatoes fat their wanton swine. 35 
 
 Nature these cates with such a lavish hand 
 
 Pours out among them, that cur coarser land 
 
 Tastes of that bounty, and does cloth return, 
 
 ■WTiich not for warmth, but ornament, is worn ; 
 
 For the kind spring, which but salutes us here, 40 
 
 Inhabits there, and courts them all the year. 
 
 Ripe fruits and blossoms on the same trees live ; 
 
 At once they promise what at once they give. 
 
 So sweet the air, so moderate the clime. 
 
 None sickly lives, or dies before his time. 45 
 
 Heaven sure has kept this spot of earth uncursed, 
 
 To show how all things were created first. 
 
 The tardy plants in our cold orchards placed, 
 
 Reserve their fruit for the next age's taste. 
 
68 POEMS OF 
 
 There a small grain in some few months will be 50 
 
 A firm, a lofty, and a spacious tree. 
 
 The palma-christi, and the fair papa, 
 
 Now but a seed, (preventing nature's law) 
 
 In half the circle of the hasty year 
 
 Project a shade, and lovely fruit do wear. 55 
 
 And as their trees, in our dull region set, 
 
 But faintly grow, and no perfection get ; 
 
 So, in this northern tract, our hoarser throats, 
 
 Utter unripe and ill-constrained notes. 
 
 Where the supporter of the poets' style, 60 
 
 Phoebus, on them eternally does smile. 
 
 Oh ! how I long my careless limbs to lay 
 
 Under the^ plantain's shade, and all the day 
 
 With amorous airs my fancy entertain, 
 
 Invoke the Muses, and improve my vein ! 65 
 
 No passion there in my free breast should move. 
 
 None but the sweet and best of passions, love. 
 
 There while I sing, if gentle love be by. 
 
 That tunes my lute, and winds the strings so high. 
 
 With the sweet sound of Sacharissa's name 70 
 
 I'll make the listening savages grow tame. 
 
 But while I do these pleasing dreams indite, 
 I am diverted from the promised fight. 
 
 I.— 1645, a. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 69 
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 Of their alann,l and how their foes 
 Discovered were, this Canto shows. 
 
 Though rocks so high about this island rise, 
 That well they may the numerous Turk despise, 
 Yet is no human fate exempt from fear. 
 Which shakes their hearts, while through the isle they 
 
 hear 
 A lasting noise, as horrid and as loud ' 5 
 
 As thunder makes before it breaks the cloud. 
 Three days they dread this murmur, ere they know 
 From what blind cause the unwonted sound may grow. 
 At length two monsters of unequal size. 
 Hard by the shore, a fisherman espies ; 10 
 
 Two mighty whales ! which swelling seas had tossed, 
 And left them prisoners on the rocky coast. 
 One as a mountain vast ; and with her came 
 A cub, not much inferior to his dam. 
 Here in a pool, among the rocks engaged, 15 
 
 They roared, like lions caught in toils, and raged. 
 The man knew what they were, who heretofore 
 Had seen the like lie murdered on the shore ; 
 By the wild fury of some tempest cast. 
 The fate of ships, and shipwrecked men, to taste. 20 
 As careless dames, whom wine and sleep betray 
 To frantic dreams, their infants overlay : 
 
 I. — 1645, affright. 
 
70 POEMS OF 
 
 So there, sometimes, the raging ocean fails. 
 And her own brood exposes ; when the whales 
 Against sharp rocks, like reeling vessels quashed, 25 
 Though huge as mountains, are in pieces dashed ; 
 Along the shore their dreadful limbs lie scattered. 
 Like hills with earthquakes shaken, torn, and shattered. 
 Hearts sure of brass they had, who tempted first 
 Rude seas that spare not what themselves have nursed. 
 The welcome news through all the nation spread, [30 
 To sudden joy and hope converts their dread ; 
 What lately was their public terror, they 
 Behold with glad eyes as a certain prey ; 
 Dispose already of the untaken spoil, 35 
 
 And, as the purchase of their future toil. 
 These share the bones, and they divide the oil. 
 So was the huntsman by the bear oppressed, 
 ■Whose hide he sold — before he caught the beast ! 
 
 They man their boats, and all their young men arm 
 With whatsoever may the monsters harm ; [40 
 
 Pikes, halberts, spits, and darts that wound so far, 
 The tools of peace, and instruments of war. 
 Now was the time for vigorous lads to show 
 What love, or honour, could invite them to ; 45 
 
 A goodly theatre ; where rocks are round 
 With reverend age, and lovely lasses, crowned. 
 Such was the lake which held this dreadful pair. 
 Within the bounds of noble Warwick's share ; 
 Warwick's bold Earl ! than which no title bears 50 
 A greater sound among our British peers ; 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 71 
 
 And worthy he the memory to renew. 
 The fate and honour to that title due, 
 Whose brave adventures have transferred his name, [55 
 And through the new world spread his growing fame. 
 But how they fought, and what their valour gained. 
 Shall in another Canto be contained. 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 The bloody fight, successless toil, 
 And how the fishes sacked the isle. 
 
 The boat which on the first assault did go, 
 
 Struck with a harping-iron the younger foe ; 
 
 Who, when he felt his side so rudely gored, 
 
 Loud as the sea that nourished him he roared. 
 
 As a broad bream, to please some curious taste, 5 
 
 While yet alive, in boiling water cast. 
 
 Vexed with unwonted heat, bounds, ^ flings about 
 
 The scorching brass, and hurls the liquor out ; 
 
 So with the barbed javelin stung, he raves. 
 
 And scourges with his tail the suffering waves. 10 
 
 Like Spenser's^ Talus with his iron flail. 
 
 He threatens ruin with his ponderous tail ; 
 
 Dissolving at one stroke the battered boat. 
 
 And down the men fall drenched in the moat ; 
 
 With every fierce encounter they are forced 1 5 
 
 To quit their boats, and fare like men unhorsed. 
 
 I.— Editions after 1645, loils. 2.-1645, Fairy. 
 
72 POEMS OF 
 
 The bigger whale like some huge carrack lay, 
 Which wanteth sea-room with her foes to play ; 
 Slowly she swims ; and when, provoked she would 
 Advance her tail, her head salutes the mud ; 20 
 
 The shallow water doth her force infringe, 
 And renders vain her tail's impetuous swinge ; 
 The shining steel her tender sides receive. 
 And there, like bees, they all their weapons leave. 
 
 This sees the cub, and does himself oppose 25 
 
 Betwixt his cumbered mother and her foes ; 
 With desperate courage he receives her wounds, 
 And men and boats his active tail confounds. 
 Their forces joined, the seas with billows fill, 
 And make a tempest, though the winds be still. 30 
 
 Now would the men with half their hoped prey 
 Be well content, and wish ^ this cub away ; 
 Their wish they have : he (to direct his dam 
 Unto the gap through which they thither came) 
 Before her swims, and quits the hostile lake, 35 
 
 A prisoner there, but for his mother's sake. 
 She, by the rocks compelled to stay behind. 
 Is by the vastness of her bulk confined. 
 They shout for joy ! and now on her alone 
 Their fury falls, and all their darts are thrown. 40 
 Their lances spent, one bolder than the rest, 
 With his broad sword provoked ^ the sluggish beast ; 
 Her oily side devours both blade and haft, 
 
 I. — 1645, wish'd. a. — z6\St P^oz'ohes, 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 73 
 
 And there his steel the bold Bermudian left. 
 
 Courage the rest from his example take, 45 
 
 And now they change the colour of the lake ; 
 
 Blood flows in rivers from her wounded side, 
 
 As if they would prevent the tardy tide. 
 
 And raise the flood to that propitious height, 
 
 As might convey her from this fatal strait. 5° 
 
 She swims in blood, and blood does spouting throw 
 
 To heaven, that heaven men's cruelties might know. 
 
 Their fixed javelins in her side she wears. 
 
 And on her back a grove of pikes appears ; 
 
 You would have thought, had you the monster seen 
 
 Thus dressed, she had another island been. [55 
 
 Roaring she tears the air with such a noise, 
 
 As well resembled the conspiring voice 
 
 Of routed armies, when the field is won. 
 
 To reach the ears of her escaped son. 60 
 
 He, though a league removed from the foe. 
 
 Hastes to her aid ; the pious Trojan so, 
 
 Neglecting for Creusa's life his own, 
 
 Repeats the danger of the burning town. 
 
 The men, amazed, blush to see the seed 65 
 
 Of monsters human piety exceed. 
 
 Well proves this kindness, what the Grecians sung. 
 
 That Love's bright mother from the ocean sprung. 
 
 Their courage droops, and, hopeless now, they wish 
 
 For composition with the unconquered fish ; 70 
 
 So she their weapons would restore again. 
 
 Through rocks they'd hew her passage to the main. 
 
74 POEMS OF 
 
 But how instructed in each other's mind ? 
 
 Or what commerce can men with monsters find ? 
 
 Not daring to approach their wounded foe, 75 
 
 Whom her courageous son protected so, 
 
 They charge their muskets, and, with hot desire 
 
 Of fell revenge, renew the fight with fire ; 
 
 Standing aloof, with lead they bruise the scales. 
 
 And tear the flesh of the incensed whales. 80 
 
 But no success their fierce endeavours found, 
 
 Nor this way could they give one fatal wound. 
 
 Now to their fort they are about to send 
 
 For the loud engines which their isle defend ; 
 
 But what those pieces framed to batter walls, 85 
 
 Would have effected on those mighty whales. 
 
 Great Neptune will not have us know, who sends 
 
 A tide so high that it relieves his friends. 
 
 And thus they parted with exchange of harms ; [90 
 
 Much blood the monsters lost, and they their arms. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 75 
 
 WHEN HE WAS AT SEA. 
 
 Whilst I was free I wrote with high conceit, 
 And love and beauty raised above their height ; 
 Love, that bereaves us both of brain and heart. 
 Sorrow and silence doth at once impart. 
 What hand at once can wield a sword and write 
 Or battle paint, engaged in the fight ? 
 Who will describe a storm must not be there : 
 Passion writes well, neither in love nor fear. 
 Why on the naked boy have poets then 
 Feathers and wings bestowed, that wants a pen ? 
 
 TO MY LORD OF FALKLAND. 
 
 Brave Holland leads, and with him Falkland goes. 
 
 Who hears this told, and does not straight suppose 
 
 We send the Graces and the Muses forth, 
 
 To civilize and to instruct the north ? 
 
 Not that these ornaments make swords less sharp ; 5 
 
 Apollo bears as well his bow as harp ; 
 
 And though he be the patron of that spring, 
 
 Where, in calm peace, the sacred virgins sing. 
 
 He courage had to guard the invaded throne 
 
 Of Jove, and cast the ambitious giants down. 10 
 
 Ah, noble friend ! with what impatience all 
 That know thy worth, and know how prodigal 
 
76 POEMS OF 
 
 Of thy great soul thou art, (longing to twist 
 
 Bays with that ivy which so early kissed 
 
 Thy youthful temples) with what horror we 1 5 
 
 Think on the blind events of war and thee ! 
 
 To fate exposing that all -knowing breast 
 
 Among the throng, as cheaply as the rest ; 
 
 Where oaks and brambles (if the copse be burned) 
 
 Confounded lie, to the same ashes turned. 20 
 
 Some happy wind over the ocean blow 
 This tempest yet, which frights our island so ! 
 Guarded with ships, and all the sea our own. 
 From heaven this mischief on our heads is thrown. 
 
 In a late dream, the Genius of this land, 25 
 
 Amazed, I saw, like the fair Hebrew stand. 
 When first she felt the twins begin to jar. 
 And found her womb the seat of civil war. 
 Inclined to whose relief, and with presage 
 Of better fortune for the present age, 30 
 
 Heaven sends, quoth I, this discord for our good. 
 To warm, perhaps, but not to waste our blood ; 
 To raise our drooping spirits, grown the scorn 
 Of our proud neighbours, who ere long shall mourn 
 (Though now they joy in our expected harms) 35 
 
 We had occasion to resume our arms. 
 
 A lion so with self-provoking smart, 
 (Sis rebel tail scourging his noble part) 
 Calls up his courage ; then begins to roar 
 And charge his foes, who thought him mad before, ^o 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 77 
 
 OF THE QUEEN.i 
 
 The lark, that shuns on lofty boughs to build 
 Her humble nest, lies silent in the field ; 
 But if the promise of a cloudless day, 
 Aurora smiling, bids her rise and play. 
 Then straight she shows 'twas not for want of voice, 5 
 Or power to climb, she made so low a choice ; 
 Singing she mounts ; her airy wings are stretched 
 Towards heaven, as if from heaven her note she fetched. 
 
 So we, retiring from the busy throng, 
 Use to restrain the ambition of our song ; 10 
 
 But since the light which now informs our age 
 Breaks from the court, indulgent to her rage. 
 Thither my muse, like bold Prometheus, flies, 
 To light her torch at Gloriana's eyes. 
 
 Those sovereign beams which heal the wounded 
 soul, 1 5 
 
 And all our cares, but once beheld, control ; 
 There the poor lover, that has long endured 
 Some proud nymph's scorn, of his fond passion cured, 
 Fares like the man who first upon the ground 
 A glow-worm spied, supposing he had found 20 
 
 I. — 1645, Of and to the Queene, 
 
78 POEMS OF 
 
 A moving diamond, a breathing stoae ; 
 For life it had, and like those jewels shone ; 
 He held it dear, till by the springing day 
 Informed, he threw the worthless worm away. 
 
 She saves the lover, as we gangrenes stay, 25 
 
 By cutting hope, like a lopped limb, away ; 
 This makes her bleeding patients to accuse 
 High Heaven, and these expostulations use : 
 ' ' Could Nature then no private woman grace, 
 Whom we might dare to love, with such a face, 30 
 Such a complexion, and so radiant eyes, 
 Such lovely motion, and such sharp replies ? 
 Beyond our reach, and yet within our sight, 
 What envious power has placed this glorious light? " 
 
 Thus, in a starry night, fond children cry 35 
 
 For the rich spangles that adorn the sky. 
 Which, though they shine for ever fixed there, 
 With light and influence relieve us here. 
 All her affections are to one inclined ; 
 Her bounty and compassion to mankind ; 40 
 
 To whom, while she so far extends her grace, 
 She makes but good the promise of her face ; 
 For Mercy has, could Mercy's self be seen, 
 No sweeter look than this propitious queen. 
 Such guard, and comfort, the distressed find 45 
 
 From her large power, and from her larger mind, 
 That whom ill Fate would ruin, it prefers, 
 For all the miserable are made hers. 
 So the fair tree whereon the eagle builds, 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 79 
 
 Poor sheep from tempests, and their shepherd 
 shields ; 50 
 
 The royal bird possesses all the boughs, 
 But shade and shelter to the flock allows. 
 
 Joy of our age, and safety of the next ! 
 For which so oft thy fertile womb is vexed ; 
 Nobly contented, for the public good, 55 
 
 To waste thy spirits and diffuse thy blood, 
 What vast hopes may these islands entertain, 
 Where monarchs, thus descended, are to reign ? 
 Led by commanders of so fair a line. 
 Our seas no longer shall our power confine. Oo 
 
 A brave romance who would exactly frame. 
 First brings his knight from some immortal dame, 
 And then a weapon, and a flaming shield. 
 Bright as his mother's eyes, he makes him wield. 
 None might the mother of Achilles be, 65 
 
 But the fair pearl and glory of the sea ; 
 The man to whom great Maro gives such fame. 
 From the high bed of heavenly Venus came ; 
 And our next Charles, whom all the stars design 
 Like wonders to accomplish, springs from thine. 70 
 
8o rOEMS OF 
 
 THE APOLOGY OF SLEEP, 
 
 FOR NOT APPROACHING THE LADY WHO CAN DO 
 ANYTHING BUT SLEEP WHEN SHE PLEASETH. 
 
 My charge it is those breaches to repair 
 Which Nature takes from sorrow, toil, and care ; 
 Rest to the Umbs, and quiet I confer 
 On troubled minds ; but nought can add to her 
 Whom Heaven and her transcendent thoughts have 
 placed 5 
 
 Above those ills which wretched mortals taste. 
 
 Bright as the deathless gods, and happy, she 
 From all that may infringe delight is free ; 
 Love at her royal feet his quiver lays, 
 And not his mother with more haste obeys. lo 
 
 Such real pleasures, such true joys suspense, 
 What dream can I present to recompense? 
 
 Should I with lightning fill her awfal hand, 
 And make the clouds seem all at her command ; 
 Or place her in Olympus' top, a guest 1 5 
 
 Among the immortals, who with nectar feast ; 
 That power would seem, that entertainment, short 
 Of the true splendour of her present court. 
 Where all the joys, and all the glories, are 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 8 1 
 
 Of three great kingdoms, severed from the care. 20 
 
 I, that of fumes and humid vapours made, 
 
 Ascending, do the seat of sense invade. 
 
 No cloud in so serene a mansion find, 
 
 To overcast her ever-shining mind, 
 
 Which holds resemblance with those spotless skies, 25 
 
 Where flowing Nilus want of rain supplies ; 
 
 That crystal heaven, where Phoebus never shrouds 
 
 His golden beams, nor wraps his face in clouds. 
 
 But what so hard which numbers cannot force ? 
 
 So stoops the moon, and rivers change their course. 30 
 
 The bold Maeonian made me dare to steep 
 
 Jove's dreadful temples in the dew of sleep ; 
 
 And since the Muses do invoke my power, 
 
 I shall no more decline that sacred bower 
 
 Where Gloriana their great mistress lies ; 35 
 
 But, gently taming those victorious eyes. 
 
 Charm all her senses, till the joyful sun 
 
 Without a rival half his course has run ; 
 
 Who, while my hand that fairer light confines. 
 
 May boast himself the brightest thing that shines. 40 
 
82 POEMS OF 
 
 PUERPERIUM. 
 
 You gods that have the power 
 
 To trouble, and compose, 
 
 All that's beneath your bower, 
 
 Calm silence on the seas, on earth impose. 
 
 Fair Venus ! in thy soft arms 5 
 
 The God of Rage confine ; 
 
 For thy whispers are the charms 
 
 Which only can divert his fierce design. 
 
 What though he frown, and to tumult do incline ? 
 Thou the flame 10 
 
 Kindled in his breast canst tame 
 With that snow which unmelted lies on thine. 
 
 Great goddess ! give this thy sacred island rest ; 
 Make heaven smile, 
 
 That no storm disturb us while 1 5 
 
 Thy chief care, our halcyon, builds her nest. 
 
 Great Gloriana ! fair Gloriana ! 
 
 Bright as high heaven is, and fertile as earth 
 
 Whose beauty relieves us, 
 
 Whose royal bed gives us 20 
 
 Both glory and peace. 
 
 Our present joy, and all our hopes' increase.^ 
 
 I. — i6^^^0ur^*-esentjoyt our hopes htcrense. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 83 
 
 TO AMORET. 
 
 Amoret ! the Milky Way 
 Framed of many nameless stars ! 
 The smooth stream where none can s; 
 He this drop to that prefers ! 
 
 Amoret ! my lovely foe ! 
 Tell me where thy strength does lie ? 
 Where the power that charms us so ? 
 In thy soul, or in thy eye ? 
 
 By that snowy neck alone, 
 Or thy grace in motion seen, 
 No such wonders could be done ; 
 Yet thy waist is straight and clean 
 As Cupid's shaft, or Hermes' rod. 
 And powerful, too, as either god. 
 
84 POEMS OF 
 
 TO PHYLLIS. 
 
 Phyllis ! why should we delay 
 
 Pleasures shorter than the day 
 
 Could we (which we never can 
 
 Stretch our lives beyond their span, 
 
 Beauty like a shadow flies, 5 
 
 And our youth before us dies. 
 
 Or would youth and beauty stay, 
 
 Love hath wings, and will away. 
 
 Love hath swifter wings than Time ; 
 
 Change in love to heaven does climb. 10 
 
 Gods, that never change their state, 
 
 Vary oft their love and hate. 
 
 Phyllis ! to this truth we owe 
 All the love betwixt us two. 
 Let not you and I inquire 15 
 
 What has been our past desire ; 
 On what shepherds you have smiled, 
 Or what nymphs I have beguiled ; 
 Leave it to the planets too, 
 What we shall hereafter do ; 20 
 
 For the joys we now may prove. 
 Take advice of present love. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 85 
 
 X LA MALADE. 
 
 Ah, lovely Amoret ! the care 
 
 Of all that know what's good or fair ! 
 
 Is heaven become our rival too ? 
 
 Had the rich gifts, conferred on you 
 
 So amply thence, the common end 5 
 
 Of giving lovers — to pretend ? 
 
 Hence, to this pining sickness (meant 
 To weary thee to a consent 
 Of leaving us) no power is given 
 Thy beauties to impair ; for heaven 10 
 
 Solicits thee with such a care. 
 As roses from their stalks we tear. 
 When we would still preserve them new 
 And fresh, as on the bush they grew. 
 
 With such a grace you entertain, 1 5 
 
 And look with such contempt on pain. 
 That languishing you conquer more, 
 And wound us deeper than before. 
 So^ lightnings which in storms appear, 
 Scorch more than when the skies are clear. 20 
 
 1.— 164s, Tlie. 
 
86 POEMS OF 
 
 And as pale sickness does invade 
 Your frailer part, the breaches made 
 In that fair lodging, still more clear 
 Make the bright guest, your soul, appear. 
 So nymphs o'er pathless mountains borne, 25 
 Their light robes by the brambles torn 
 From their fair limbs, exposing new 
 And unknown beauties to the view 
 Of following gods, increase their flame. 
 And haste to catch the flying game. 30 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 87 
 
 OF LOVE. 
 
 Anger, in hasty words or blows, 
 
 Itself discharges on our foes ; 
 
 And sorrow, too, finds some relief 
 
 In tears, which wait upon our grief ; 
 
 So every passion, but fond love, 5 
 
 Unto its own redress does move ; 
 
 But that alone the wretch inclines 
 
 To what prevents his own designs ; 
 
 Makes him lament, and sigh, and weep, 
 
 Disordered, tremble, fawn, and creep; 10 
 
 Postures which render him despised, 
 
 Where he endeavours to be prized. 
 
 For women (born to be controlled) 
 
 Stoop to the forward and the bold ; 
 
 Affect the haughty and the proud, \i 5 
 
 The gay, the frolic, and the loud. 
 
 Who first the generous steed oppressed. 
 
 Not kneeling did salute the beast ; 
 
 But with high courage, life, and force, 
 
 Approaching, tamed the unruly horse. 20 
 
 Unwisely we the wiser East 
 Pity, supposing them oppressed 
 With tyrants' force, whose law is will, 
 By which they govern, spoil, and kill : 
 Each nymph, but moderately fair, 25 
 
 Commands with no less rigour here. 
 Should some brave Turk, that walks among 
 
POEMS OF 
 
 His twenty lasses, bright and young, 
 
 And beckons to the willing dame, 
 
 Preferred to quench his present flame, 30 
 
 Behold as many gallants here> 
 
 With modest guise and silent fear. 
 
 All to one female idol bend, 
 
 While her high pride does scarce descend 
 
 To mark their follies, he would swear 35 
 
 That these her guard of eunuchs were. 
 
 And that a more majestic queen. 
 
 Or humbler slaves, he had not seen. 
 
 All this with indignation spoke. 
 In vain I struggled with the yoke 40 
 
 Of mighty Love ; that conquering look, 
 When next beheld, like lightning strook 
 My blasted soul, and made me bow 
 Lower than those I pitied now. 
 
 So the tall stag, upon the brink 45 
 
 Of some smooth stream about to drink. 
 Surveying there his armed head, 
 With shame remembers that he fled 
 The scorned dogs, resolves to try 
 The combat next ; but if their cry 50 
 
 Invades again his trembling ear, 
 He straight resumes his wonted care,' 
 Leaves the untasted spring behind. 
 And, winged with fear, outflies the wind. 
 
 I.— 1645, y>a?-. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 89 
 
 FOR DRINKING OF HEALTHS. 
 
 And is antiquity of no more force ! 
 
 Whoe'er opposed that ancient friendly course, 
 
 And free expression of our absent love, 
 
 Against the custom of all nations strove 
 
 And lost his labour, it does still prevail, 5 
 
 And shall, while there is friendship, wine, or ale. 
 
 Let brutes and vegetals, that cannot think. 
 
 So far as drought and nature urges, drink ; 
 
 A more indulgent mistress guides our sprites, 
 
 Reason, that dares beyond our appetites, 10 
 
 (She would our care, as well as thirst, redress) 
 
 And with divinity rewards excess. 
 
 Deserted Ariadne, thus supplied, 
 
 Did perjured Theseus' cruelty deride ; 
 
 Bacchus embraced, from her exalted thought 1 5 
 
 Banished the man, her passion, and his fault. 
 
 Bacchus and Phoebus are by Jove allied, 
 
 And each by other's timely heat supplied ; 
 
 All that the grapes owe to his ripening fires 
 
 Is paid in numbers which their juice inspires. 20 
 
 Wine fills the veins, and healths are understood 
 
 To give our friends a title to our blood ; 
 
 Who, naming me, doth warm his courage so. 
 
 Shows for my sake what his bold hand would do. 
 
 'Twere slender kindness that would not dispense 25 
 
 With health itself, to breed a confidence 
 
 Of true love in a friend, and he that quits 
 
90 POEMS OF 
 
 Each custom which the rude plebeian gets, 
 
 For his reserv'dness will too dearly pay, 
 
 Employ the night and loose the cheerful day : 30 
 
 The burnished face oft decked with hoary hairs 
 
 Shows drinking brings no death, but to our cares. 
 
 Who with a full red countenance ends his days, 
 
 He sets like Phoebus and discerns his bays. 
 
 OF MY LADY ISABELLA, 
 
 PLAYING ON THE LUTE. 
 
 Such moving sounds from such a careless touch ! 
 
 So unconcerned herself, and we so much ! 
 
 What art is this, that with so little pains 
 
 Transports us thus, and o'er our' spirit reigns ? 
 
 The trembling strings about her fingers crowd, 5 
 
 And tell their joy for every kiss aloud. 
 
 Small force there needs to make them tremble so ; 
 
 Touched by that hand, who would not tremble too ? 
 
 Here love takes stand, and while she charms the ear, 
 
 Empties his quiver on the listening deer. 10 
 
 Music so softens and disarms the mind. 
 
 That not an arrow does resistance find. 
 
 Thus the fair tyrant celebrates the prize. 
 
 And acts herself the triumph of her eyes : 
 
 So Nero once, with harp in hand, surveyed 1 5 
 
 His flaming Rome, and as it burned he played. 
 
 I.— 1645, the. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 91 
 
 OF MRS. ARDEN. 
 
 Behold, and listen, while the fair 
 Breaks in sweet sounds the willing air, 
 And with her own breath fans the fire 
 Which her bright eyes do first inspire. 
 What reason can that love control, 
 Which more than one way courts the soul ? 
 
 So when a flash of lightning falls 
 On our abodes, the danger calls 
 For human aid, which hopes the flame 
 To conquer, though from heaven it came ; 
 But if the winds with that conspire. 
 Men strive not, but deplore the fire. 
 
92 POEMS OF 
 
 OF THE MARRIAGE OF THE DWARFS. 
 
 Design,! qj chance, makes others wive ; 
 
 But Nature did this match contrive ; 
 
 Eve might as well have Adam fled, 
 
 As she denied her little bed 
 
 To him, for whom Heaven seemed to frame, 5 
 
 And measure out, this only dame. 
 
 Thrice happy is that humble pair. 
 Beneath the level of all care ! 
 Over whose heads those arrows fly 
 Of sad distrust and jealousy ; 10 
 
 Secured in as high extreme. 
 As if the world held none but them. 
 
 To him the fairest nymphs do show 
 Like moving mountains, topped with snow ; 
 And every man a Polypheme 15 
 
 Does to his Galatea seem ; 
 None may presume her faith to prove ; 
 He proffers death that proffers love. 
 
 Ah, Chloris, that kind Nature thus 
 From all the world had severed us ; 20 
 
 Creating for ourselves us two, 
 As love has me for only you ! 
 
 I. — 1645, The signe. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 93 
 
 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 designed for nobler use. 
 Not to make warm, but build the house. 
 Though from our meaner flames secure. 
 Must that which falls from heaven endure. 
 
94 POEMS OF 
 
 FROM A CHILD. 
 
 Madam, as in some climes the warmer sun 
 
 Makes it full summer ere the spring's begun, 
 
 And with ripe fruit the bending boughs can load, 
 
 Before our violets dare look abroad ; 
 
 So measure not by any common use 5 
 
 The early love your brighter eyes produce. 
 
 When lately your fair hand in woman's weed 
 
 Wrapped my glad head, I wished me so indeed. 
 
 That hasty time might never make me grow 
 
 Out of those favours you afford me now ; 10 
 
 That I might ever such indulgence find, 
 
 And you not blush, or think yourself too kind ; 
 
 Who now, I fear, while I these joys express. 
 
 Begin to think how you may make them less. 
 
 The sound of love makes your soft heart afraid, 15 
 
 And guard itself, though but a child invade. 
 
 And innocently at your white breast throw 
 
 A dart as white, a ball of new fall'n snow. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 95 
 
 ON A GIRDLE. 
 
 That which her slender waist confined, 
 Shall now my joyful temples bind ; 
 No monarch but would give his crown, 
 His arms might do what this has done. 
 
 It was^ ray heaven's extremest sphere. 
 The pale which held Ihat^ lovely deer. 
 My joy, my grief, my hope, my love, 
 Did^ all within this circle move ! 
 
 A narrow compass ! and yet there 
 Dwelf* all that's good, and all that's fair ; 
 Give me but what this ribband bound, 
 Take all the rest the sun goes round.^ 
 
 I. — 1645, is, 2. — 1645, the, 
 
 3. — 1645, Do, 4.— 1645, Dwells, 
 
 5.— 1645, Give me hut what tkis Ribban tyd, 
 Take alt the sun goes round bedde. 
 
96 POEMS OF 
 
 THE FALL. 
 
 See ! how the willing earth gave way, 
 
 To take the impression where she lay. 
 
 See ! how the mould, as loth to leave 
 
 So sweet a burden, still doth cleave 
 
 Close to the nymph's stained garment. Here 5 
 
 The coming spring would first appear, 
 
 And all this place with roses strow, 
 
 If busy feet would let them grow. 
 
 Here Venus smiled to see blind chance 
 
 Itself before her son advance, 10 
 
 And a fair image to present, 
 
 Of what the boy so long had meant. 
 
 'Twas such a chance as this, made all 
 
 The world into this order fall ; 
 
 Thus the first lovers on the clay, 15 
 
 Of which they were composed, lay ; 
 
 So in their prime, with equal grace. 
 
 Met the first patterns of our race. 
 
 Then blush not, fair ! or on him frown, 
 
 Or wonder how you both came down ; 20 
 
 But touch him, and he'll tremble straight. 
 
 How could he then support your weight ? 
 
 How could the youth, alas ! but bend. 
 
 When his whole heaven upon him leaned ? 
 
 If aught by him amiss were done, 25 
 
 'Twas that he let you rise so soon. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 97 
 
 OF SYLVIA. 
 
 Our sighs are heard ; just Heaven declares 
 
 The sense it has of lover's cares ; 
 
 She that so far the rest outshined, 
 
 Sylvia the fair, while she was kind. 
 
 As if her frowns impaired her brow, 5 
 
 Seems only not unhandsome now. 
 
 So when the sky makes us endure 
 
 A storm, itself becomes obscure. 
 
 Hence 'tis that I conceal my flame, 
 
 Hiding from Flavia's self her name, 10 
 
 Lest she, provoking Heaven, should prove 
 
 How it rewards neglected love. 
 
 Better a thousand such as I, 
 
 Their grief untold, should pine and die, 
 
 Than her bright morning, overcast 1 5 
 
 With sullen clouds, should be defaced. 
 
98 POEMS OF 
 
 THE BUD. 
 
 Lately on yonder swelling bush, 
 
 Big with many a coming rose, 
 
 This early bud began to blush. 
 
 And did but half itself disclose ; 
 
 I plucked it, though no better grown, 5 
 
 And now you see how full 'tis blown. 
 
 Still as I did the leaves inspire, 
 
 With such a purple light tjiey shone, 
 
 As if they had been made of fire. 
 
 And spreading so, would £ame anon. 10 
 
 All that was meant by air or sun. 
 
 To the young flower, my breath has done. 
 
 If our loose breath so much can do, 
 
 What may the same in forms^ of love, 
 
 Of purest love, and music too, 15 
 
 Wlien Flavia it aspires to move ? 
 
 When that, which lifeless buds persuades 
 
 To wax more soft, her youth invades ? 
 
 I.— This is the reading of the edition of 1645, and I have 
 preferred to retain it, although the other editions have 
 ziifortt^s, and in that of 1682 injormd in the text is corrected to 
 inform' s in the Errata. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 99 
 
 ON THE DISCOVERY OF A LADY'S 
 PAINTING. 
 
 Pygmalion's fate reversed is mine ; 
 
 His marble love took flesh and blood ; 
 
 All that I v\rorshipped as divine, 
 
 That beauty ! now 'tis understood, 
 
 Appears to have no more of life 5 
 
 Than that whereof he framed his wife. 
 
 As women yet, who apprehend 
 
 Some sudden cause of causeless fear. 
 
 Although that seeming cause take end, 
 
 And they behold no danger near, 10 
 
 A shaking through their limbs they find, 
 
 Like leaves saluted by the wind : 
 
 So though the beauty do appear 
 
 No beauty, which amazed me so ; 
 
 Yet from my breast I cannot tear 1 5 
 
 The passion which from thence did grow ; 
 
 Nor yet out of my fancy raze 
 
 The print of that supposed face. 
 
 A real beauty, though too near. 
 
 The fond Narcissus did admire ! 20 
 
 I dote on that which is nowhere ; 
 
 The sign of beauty feeds my fire. 
 
 No mortal flame was e'er so cruel 
 
 As this, which thus survives the fuel ! 
 
POEMS OF 
 
 OF LOVING AT FIRST SIGHT. 
 
 Not caring to observe the wind, 
 Or the new sea explore, 
 Snatched from myself, how far behind 
 Already I behold the shore ! 
 
 May not a thousand dangers sleep 5 
 
 In the smooth bosom of this deep ? 
 
 No ; 'tis so reckless and so clear. 
 
 That the rich bottom does appear. 
 
 Paved all with precious things, not torn 
 
 From shipwrecked vessels, but there born. 10 
 
 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 colours faint, 15 
 
 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, tlie rudest tame. 20 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 THE SELF-BANISHED. 
 
 It is not that I love you less, 
 Than when before your feet I lay 
 But to prevent the sad increase 
 Of hopeless love, I keep away. 
 
 In vain, alas ! for everything 5 
 
 Which I have known belong to you, 
 Your form does to my fancy bring, 
 And makes my old wounds bleed anew. 
 
 Who in the spring, from the new sun. 
 Already has a fever got, 10 
 
 Too late begins those shafts to shun. 
 Which Phoebus through his veins has shot ; 
 
 Too late he would the pain assuage. 
 
 And to thick shadows does retire ; 
 
 About with him he bears the rage, 1 5 
 
 And in his tainted blood the fire. 
 
 But vowed I have, and never must 
 
 Your banished servant trouble you ; 
 
 For if I break, you may mistrust 
 
 The vow I made — to love you too. 20 
 
I02 POEMS OF 
 
 TO A FRIEND, 
 
 OF THE DIFFERENT SUCCF.SS OF THEIR LOVES.' 
 
 Thrice happy pair ! of whom we cannot know 
 
 Which first began to love, or loves most now ; 
 
 Fair course of passion ! where two lovers start, 
 
 And run together, heart still yoked with heart ; 
 
 Successful youth ! whom love has taught the way 5 
 
 To be victorious in the first essay. 
 
 Sure love's an art best practised at first, 
 
 And where the experienced still prosper worst ! 
 
 I, with a different fate, pursued in vain 
 
 The haughty Celia, till my just disdain ic 
 
 Of her neglect, above that passion borne, 
 
 Did pride to pride oppose, and scorn to scorn. 
 
 Now she relents ; but all too late to move 
 
 A heart directed to a nobler love. 
 
 The scales are turned, her kindness weighs no more 
 
 Now than my vows and service did before. [15 
 
 So in some well-wrought hangings you may see 
 
 IIow Hector leads, and how the Grecians flee ; 
 
 Here, the fierce Mars his courage so inspires. 
 
 That with bold hands the Argive fleet he fires ; 20 
 
 But there, from heaven the blue-eyed virgin falls, 
 
 And frighted Troy retires within her walls ; 
 
 They that are foremost in that bloody race. 
 
 Turn head anon, and give the conquerors chase. 
 
 I. — 1645, To A . H.-, o/the different success oj thtir Leves. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 103 
 
 So like the chances are of love and war, 25 
 
 That they alone in this distinguished are, 
 In love the victors from the vanquished fly ; 
 They fly that wound, and they pursue that die. 
 
 TO ZELINDA. 
 
 Fairest piece of well-formed earth 1 
 Urge not thus your haughty birth ; 
 The power which you have o'er us lies 
 Not in your race, but in your eyes. 
 "None but a prince !" — Alas ! that voice 
 Confines you to a narrow choice. 
 Should you no honey vow to taste. 
 But what the master-bees have placed 
 In compass of their cells, how small 
 A portion to your share would fall ! 
 Nor all appear, among those few, 
 Worthy the stock from whence they grew. 
 The sap which at the root is bred 
 In trees, through all the boughs is spread ; 
 But virtues which in parents shine, 
 Make not like progress through the line. 
 'Tis not from whom, but where, we live ; 
 The place does oft those graces give. 
 
I04 POEMS OF 
 
 Great Julius, on the mountains bred, 
 
 A flock perhaps, or herd, had led. 20 
 
 He that the world subdued had been 
 
 But the best wrestler on the green. 
 
 'Tis art and knowledge which draw forth 
 
 The hidden seeds of native worth ; 
 
 They blow those sparks, and make them rise 25 
 
 Into such flames as touch the skies. 
 
 To the old heroes hence was given 
 
 A pedigree which reached to heaven ; 
 
 Of mortal seed they were not held. 
 
 Which other mortals so excelled. 30 
 
 And beauty, too, in such excess 
 
 As yours, Zelinda ! claims no less. 
 
 Smile but on me, and you shall scorn. 
 
 Henceforth, to be of princes bom. 
 
 I can describe the shady grove 35 
 
 Where your loved mother slept with Jove ; 
 
 And yet excuse the faultless dame. 
 
 Caught with her spouse's shape and name. 
 
 Thy matchless form vrill credit biing 
 
 To all the wonders I shall sing. 40 
 
EDMUND WALLER. loj 
 
 TO A LADY 
 
 SINGING A SONG OF HIS COMPOSING. 
 
 Chloris 1 yourself you so excel, 
 When you vouchsafe to breathe my thought, 
 That, hke a spirit, with this spell 
 Of my own teaching, I am caught. 
 V 
 
 That eagle's fate and mine are one, 
 Which, on the shaft that made him die, 
 Espied a feather of his own. 
 Wherewith he wont to soar so high. 
 
 Had Echo, with so sweet a grace, 
 Narcissus' loud complaints returned. 
 Not for reflection of his face. 
 But of his voice, the boy had burned.^ 
 
 I.— 1645, mourned. 
 
io6 POEMS OF 
 
 TO THE MUTABLE FAIR. 
 
 Here, Celia ! for thy sake I part 
 
 With all that grew so near my heart ; 
 
 The passion that I had for thee, 
 
 The faith, the love, the constancy ! 
 
 And, that 1 may successful prove, 5 
 
 Transform myself to what you love. 
 
 Fool that I was ! so much to prize 
 Those simple virtues you despise ; 
 Fool! that with such dull arrows strove. 
 Or hoped to reach a flying dove ; lo 
 
 For you, that are in motion still. 
 Decline our force, and mock our skill ; 
 Who, like Don Quixote, do advance 
 Against a windmill our vain lance. 
 
 Now will I wander through the air, 15 
 
 Mount, make a stoop at every fair ; 
 And, with a fancy unconfined, 
 (As lawless as the sea or wdnd) 
 Pursue you wheresoe'er you fly, 
 And with your various thoughts comply. 20 
 
 The formal stars do travel so, 
 As we their names and courses know ; 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 107 
 
 And he that on thejr changes looks, 
 
 Would think them governed by our books ; 
 
 But never were the clouds reduced 25 
 
 To any art ; the motions ' used 
 
 By those free vapours are so light, 
 
 So frequent, that the conquered sight 
 
 Despairs to find the rules that guide 
 
 Those gilded shadows as they slide ; 30 
 
 And therefore of the spacious air 
 
 Jove's royal consort had the care ; 
 
 And by that power did once escape, 
 
 Declining bold Ixion's rape ; 
 
 She, vpith her own resemblance, graced 35 
 
 A shining cloud, which he embraced. 
 
 Such was that image, so it smiled 
 With seeming kindness, which beguiled 
 Your Thyrsis lately, when he thought 
 He had his fleeting Celia caught. 40 
 
 'Twas shaped like her, but, for the fair. 
 He filled his arms with yielding air. 
 
 A fate for which he grieves the less, 
 Because the gods had like success ; 
 For in their story, one, we see, 45 
 
 Pursues a nymph, and takes a tree; 
 A second, with a lover's haste. 
 Soon overtakes whom he had chased, 
 
 I. — In all the editions motion^ but I have ventured to alter it 
 in accordance with Mr. Waller's MS. 
 
io8 POEMS OF 
 
 But she that did a virgin seem. 
 
 Possessed, appears a wandering stream ; 50 
 
 For his supposed love, a third 
 
 Lays greedy hold upon a bird, 
 
 And stands amazed to find his dear 
 
 A wild inhabitant of the air. 
 
 To these old tales such nymphs as you 55 
 
 Give credit, and still make them new ; 
 The amorous now like wonders find 
 In the swift changes of your mind. 
 
 But, Celia, if you apprehend 
 The muse of your incensed friend, 60 
 
 Nor would that he record your blame, 
 And make it live, repeat the same ; 
 Again deceive him, and again. 
 And then he swears he'll not complain ; 
 For still to be deluded so, 65 
 
 Is all the pleasure lovers know ; 
 
 CWho, like good falconers, take delight, 
 Not in the quarry, but the flight.. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 109 
 
 TO A LADY, 
 
 FROM WHOM HE RECEIVED A SILVER PEN. 
 
 Madam ! intending to have tried 
 
 The silver favour which you gave, 
 
 In ink the shining point I dyed. 
 
 And drenched it in the sable wave ; 
 
 When, grieved to be so foully stained, 5 
 
 On you it thus to me complained : 
 
 " Suppose you had deserved to take 
 
 From her fair hand so fair a boon, 
 
 Yet how deserved I to make 
 
 So ill a change, who ever won 10 
 
 Immortal praise for what I wro'e,' 
 
 Instructed by her noble thought ? 
 
 " I, that expressed her commands 
 
 To mighty lords, and princely dames, 
 
 Always most welcome to their hands, 15 
 
 Proud that I would record their names, 
 
 Must now be taught an humble style. 
 
 Some meaner beauty to beguile ! " 
 
 So I, the wronged pen to please. 
 
 Make it my humble thanks express, 20 
 
 Unto your ladyship, in these : 
 
 And now 'tis forced to confess 
 
 That your great self did ne'er indite, 
 
 Nor that, to one more noble, write. 
 
 I. — 1645, ivrought. 
 
POEMS OF 
 
 ON THE HEAD OF A STAG. 
 
 So we some antique hero's strength 
 
 Learn by his lance's weight and length ; 
 
 As these vast beams express the beast, 
 
 Whose shady brows alive they dressed. 
 
 Such game, while yet the world was new, S 
 
 The mighty Nimrod did pursue. 
 
 What huntsman of our feeble race, 
 
 Or dogs, dare such a monster chase, 
 
 Resembling, with each blow he strikes, 
 
 The charge of a whole troop of pikes ? lo 
 
 O fertile head ! which every year 
 
 Could such a crop of wonder bear ! 
 
 The teeming earth did never bring 
 
 So soon, so hard, so huge a thing ; 
 
 Which might it never have been cast, 1 5 
 
 (Each year's growth added to the last) 
 
 These lofty branches had supplied 
 
 The earth's bold sons' prodigious pride ; 
 
 Heaven with these engines had been scaled, 
 
 When mountains heaped on mountains failed.' 20 
 
 I. — In a MS. in the British Museum (from Bliss's sale) : 
 With Ladders Jerve's high seat to scale. 
 When hills on Hills could not prevaile. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. ii 
 
 THE MISER'S SPEECH. 
 
 IN A MASQUE. 
 
 Balls of this metal slacked At'lanta's pace, 
 
 And on the amorous youth ^ bestowed the race ; 
 
 Venus, (the nymph's mind measuring by her own) 
 
 Whom the rich spoils of cities overthrown 
 
 Had prostrated to Mars, could well advise \ 
 
 The adventurous lover how to gain the prize. 
 
 Nor less may Jupiter to gold ascribe ; 
 
 For, when he turned himself into a bribe, 
 
 Who can blame Danae, or the brazen tower, 
 
 That they withstood not that^ almighty shower ? ii 
 
 Never till then did love make Jove put on 
 
 A form more bright, and nobler^ than his own ; 
 
 Nor were it just, would he resume that shape. 
 
 That slack devotion should his thunder 'scape. 
 
 'Twas not revenge for grieved Apollo's wrong, i 
 
 Those ass's ears on Midas' temples hung, 
 
 But fond repentance of his happy wish, 
 
 Because his meat grew metal like his dish. 
 
 Would Bacchus bless me so, I'd constant hold 
 
 Unto my wish, and die creating gold. 2 
 
 I. — Hippomenes. 2. — 1645, the. 3. — 164s, noble. 
 
POEMS OF 
 
 TO CHLORIS. 
 
 Chloris ! since first our calm of peace 
 Was frighted hence, this good we find. 
 Your favours with your fears increase. 
 And growing mischiefs make you kind. 
 So the fair tree, which still preserves 
 Her fruit and state while no wind blows, 
 In storms from that uprightness swerves. 
 And the glad earth about her strows 
 With treasure, from her yielding boughs. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 113 
 
 TO A LADY IN A GARDEN.i 
 
 Sees not my love how time resumes 
 The glory which he lent these flowers ? 
 Though none should taste of their'' perfumes, 
 Yet must they live but some few hours ; 
 Time what we forbear devours ! 5 
 
 Had Helen, or the Egyptian Queen, 
 
 Been ne'er so thrifty of their graces, 
 
 Those beauties must at length have been 
 
 The spoil of age, which finds out faces 
 
 In the most retired places. 10 
 
 Should some malignant planet bring 
 
 A barren drought, or ceaseless shower, 
 
 Upon the autumn or the spring. 
 
 And spare us neither fruit nor flower ; 
 
 Winter would not stay an hour. 15 
 
 Could the resolve of love's neglect 
 
 Preserve you^ from the violation 
 
 Of coming years, then more respect 
 
 Were due to so divine a fashion. 
 
 Nor would I indulge my passion. 20 
 
 I. — 1645, To a Lady in retirement. 
 2. — 164s, these sweet. 
 3. — 1645, thee. 
 
114 POEMS OF 
 
 CHLORIS AND HYLAS. 
 
 MADE TO A SARABAND.^ 
 
 CHLORIS. 
 
 ITylas, oh Hylas ! why sit we mute, 
 Now that each bird saluteth^ the spring 
 Wind up the slack'ned^ strings of thy lute, 
 Never canst thou want matter to sing ; 
 For love thy breast does fill with such a fire. 
 That whatsoe'er is fair moves thy desire. 
 
 Sweetest ! you know, the sweetest of things 
 Of various flowers the bees do compose ; 
 Yet no particular taste it brings 
 Of violet, woodbine, pink, or rose ; 
 So love the result* is of all the graces 
 \Yhich flow from a thousand several faces. 
 
 I. — 164s, headed simply Chloris and Hilas. 
 
 2. — 1682, sabites^ 
 
 3. — Thus 1645 ; 1686, slackned, 
 
 4. — 1645, 1664, 1668, resuUance, 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 Hylas ! the birds which chant in this grove, 
 
 Could we but know the language they use, 
 
 They would instruct us better in love, 15 
 
 And reprehend thy inconstant Muse ; 
 
 For love their breasts does fill with such a fire. 
 
 That what they once do chose, bounds their desire. 
 
 Chloris ! this change the birds do approve. 
 
 Which the warm season hither does bring ; 20 
 
 Time from yourself does further remove 
 
 You, than the winter from the gay spring ; 
 
 She that like lightning shined while her face lasted, 
 
 The oak now resembles which lightning hath blasted. 
 
u6 POEMS OF 
 
 IN ANSWER OF SIR JOHN SUCKLING S 
 VERSES. 
 
 CON. 
 Stay here, fond youth ! and ask no more ; be wise ; 
 Knowing too much, long since lost Paradise. 
 
 PRO. 
 
 And, by your knowledge, we should be bereft 
 Of all that paradise which yet is left. 
 
 CON. 
 The virtuous joys thou hast, thou wouldst should still 
 Last in their pride ; and wouldst not take it ill [5 
 If rudely from sweet dreams, and for a toy. 
 Thou wert awaked ; ^ he wakes himself that does enjoy, 
 
 PRO. 
 How can the joy, or hope, which you allow 
 Be styled virtuous, and the end not so ? 10 
 
 Talk in your sleep, and shadows still admire ! 
 'Tis true, he wakes that feels this real fire ; 
 But to sleep better ; for whoe'er drinks deep 
 Of this Nepenthe, rocks himself asleep. 
 
 I.— 1686, TJiou awaked. Suckling's " Fragmenta Aurea," 
 1646, Tho* wert wak't. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 117 
 
 CON. 
 Fruition adds no new wealth, but destroys, 15 
 
 And while it pleaseth much, yet still it cloys?- 
 
 Who thinks he should" be happier made for that, 
 As reasonably might hope he might grow fat 
 By eating to a surfeit ; this once passed, 
 
 What relishes ? even kisses lose their taste. 20 
 
 Blessings may be repeated while they cloy ; 
 
 But shall we starve, 'cause surfeitings destroy ? 
 
 And if fruition did the taste impair 
 
 Of kisses, why should yonder happy pair, 
 
 Whose ^ joys just Hymen warrants all the night, 25 
 
 Consume the day, too, in this less delight ? 
 
 CON. 
 Urge not 'tis necessary ; alas I we know 
 The homeliest thing that * mankind does is so. 
 The world is of a large^ extent we see. 
 And must be peopled ; children there must be : — 30 
 So must bread too ; but since there are enough 
 Bom to that^ drudgery, what need we plough ? 
 
 I. — "Frag. Aur.," And white it pleaseth much the palate, 
 cloyes. 
 
 2. — 1645, shall. "Frag. Aur.," Who thinks he shall be 
 happier for that. 
 
 3. — 1645, Where. 4. — "Frag. AtJr.." which. 
 
 5. — " Frag. Aur.,'' vast. 6. — " Frag. Aur.," the. 
 
ii8 POEMS OF 
 
 PRO. 
 
 I need not plough, since what the stooping hind ^ 
 
 Gets of my pregnant land, must all be mine ; 
 
 But in this nobler tillage 'tis not so ; 35 
 
 For when Anchises did fair Venus know, 
 
 What interest had poor Vulcan in the boy, 
 
 Famous ^neas, or the present joy ? 
 
 Women enjoyed, whatever before ^ the^ve been. 
 Are like romances read, or scenes once seen ; 40 
 
 Fruition dulls or ^ spoils the play miuk more 
 Than if one read, or knew, the plot before. 
 
 Plays and romances read and seen, do fall 
 
 In our opinions ; yet not seen at all, 
 
 Whom would they please ? To an heroic tale 45 
 
 Would you not listen, lest it should grow stale ? 
 
 ' Tis expectation makes a blessing dear ; 
 
 Heaven were not heaven if we knew what it were, 
 
 I. — 1645, hin£. 
 
 2.— The reading of " Frag. Aur," All the editions of Waller 
 have •what e^retqfore. 
 3-—" Frag. Aur.," Fruition's dull and spoils, &c. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 119 
 
 PRO. 
 
 If 'twere not heaven if we knew what it were, 
 'Twould not be heaven to those' that now are there. 
 
 [50 
 
 CON. 
 As ^ in prospects we are there pleased most. 
 Where something keeps the eye from being lost, 
 And leaves us room to guess ; so here, restraint 
 Holds up delight, that with excess wozild faint. 
 
 PRO. 
 Restraint preserves the pleasure we have got, 55 
 
 But he ne'er has it that enjoys it not. 
 In goodly prospects, who contracts the space, 
 Or takes not all the bounty of the place ? 
 We wish removed what standeth in our light, 
 And nature blame for limiting our sight ; 60 
 
 Where you stand wisely winking, that the view 
 Of the fair prospect may be always new. 
 
 CON. 
 They, who know all the wealth they have, are poor ; 
 He's only rich thai cannot tell his store. 
 
 PRO. 
 
 Not he that knows the wealth he has is poor, 65 
 
 But he that dares not touch, nor use, his store. 
 
 I. — 1645, them. 2.—" Frag. Aur. " And as in, &c. 
 
POEMS OF 
 
 AN APOLOGY FOR HAVING LOVED 
 BEFORE. 
 
 They that never had the use 
 Of the grape's surprising juice, 
 To the first delicious cup 
 All their reason render up ; 
 Neither do, nor care to know, 
 Whether it be best' or no. 
 
 So they that are to love inclined 
 Swayed by chance, not choice, or art, 
 To the first that's fair, or kind. 
 Make a present of their heart ; 
 'Tis not she that first we love. 
 But whom dying we approve. 
 
 To man, that vA'as in the evening made. 
 Stars gave the first delight. 
 Admiring, in the gloomy shade, 
 Those little drops of light ; 
 Then at Aurora, whose fair hand 
 Removed them from the skies, 
 He gazing toward the east did stand, 
 She entertained his eyes. 
 
 1,-1645, ^^ ^^^^' 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 But when the bright sun did appear, 
 
 All those he 'gan' despise ; 
 
 His wonder was determined there, 
 
 And^ could no higher rise ; 
 
 He neither might, nor wished to know 
 
 A more refulgent light ; 
 
 For that (as mine your beauties now) 
 
 Employed his utmost sight. 
 
 ON A BREDE OF DIVERS COLOURS, 
 
 WOVEN BY FOUR LADIES. 
 
 Twice twenty slender virgin-fingers twine 
 This curious web, where all their fancies shine. 
 As Nature them, so they this shade have wrought. 
 Soft as their hands, and various as their thought. 
 Not Juno's bird, when his fair train dispread, 5 
 
 He woos the female to his painted bed ; 
 No, not the bow, which so adorns the skies. 
 So glorious is, or boasts so many dyes, 
 
 I. — 1686, can. 2, — 1645, Hee. 
 
POEMS OF 
 
 TO CHLORIS. 
 
 Chloris ! what's eminent, we know 
 Must for some cause be valued so ; 
 Things without use, though they be good, 
 Are not by us so understood. 
 The early rose, made to display 
 Her blushes to the youthful May, 
 Doth yield her sweets, since he is fair. 
 And courts her with a gentle air. 
 Our stars do show their excellence 
 Not by their light, but influence ; 
 When brighter comets, since still known 
 Fatal to all, are liked by none. 
 So your admired beauty still 
 Is, by effects, made good or ill. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 123 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Stay, Phoebus I stay ; 
 
 The world to which you fly so fast, 
 
 Conveying day 
 
 From us to them, can pay your haste 
 
 With no such object, nor salute your rise, 5 
 
 With no such wonder as De Mornay's eyes. 
 
 Well does this prove 
 
 The error of those antique books, 
 
 Which made you move 
 
 About the world ; her charming looks 10 
 
 Would fix your beams, and make it ever day. 
 
 Did not the rolling earth snatch her away. 
 
124 POEMS OF 
 
 SONG.i 
 
 Peace, babbling Muse ! 
 
 I dare not sing what you indite ; 
 
 Her eyes refuse 
 
 To read the passion which they write. 
 
 She strikes my lute, but, if it sound, 
 
 Threatens to hurl it on the ground ; 
 
 And I no less her anger dread, 
 
 Than the poor wretch that feigns him dead, 
 
 While some fierce lion does embrace 
 
 His breathless corpse, and licks his face ; 
 
 Wrapped up in silent fear he lies, 
 
 Torn all in pieces if he cries. 
 
 I.— In Mr. Waller's MS. this piece is headed, Banist if he 
 made Lone, 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 125 
 
 TO FLAVIA. 
 
 'TiS not your beauty can engage 
 
 My wary heart ; 
 
 The sun, in all his pride and rage, 
 
 Has not that art ; 
 
 And yet he shines as bright as you, S 
 
 If brightness could our souls subdue. 
 
 'Tis not the pretty things you say, 
 
 Nor those you write, 
 
 Which can make Thyrsis' heart your prey ; 
 
 For that delight, 10 
 
 The graces of a well-taught mind, 
 
 In some of our own sex we find. 
 
 No, Flavia ! 'tis your love I fear ; 
 
 Love's surest darts. 
 
 Those which so seldom fail him, are 1 5 
 
 Headed with hearts ; 
 
 Their very shadows make ^ us yield ; 
 
 Dissemble well, and win the field. 
 
 1 . — 164s, shadow makes. 
 
126 POEMS OF 
 
 BEHOLD THE BRAND OF BEAUTY 
 TOSSED ! 
 
 A SONG. 
 
 Behold the brand of beauty tossed ! 
 
 See how the motion does dilate the flame ! 
 
 Dehghted love his spoils does boast, 
 
 And triumph in this game. 
 
 Fire, to no place confined, 5 
 
 Is both our wonder and our fear ; 
 
 Moving the mind, 
 
 As ^ lightning hurled through the air. 
 
 High heaven the glory does increase 
 
 Of all her shining lamps, this artful way ; 10 
 
 The sun in figures, such as these, 
 
 Joys with the moon to play ; 
 
 To the * sweet strains they advance, 
 
 Which do result from their own spheres. 
 
 As this nymph's dance 15 
 
 Moves with the numbers which she hears. 
 
 I.— 1645, Like. 2. — 164s, these. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 127 
 
 WHILE I LISTEN TO THY VOICE. 
 
 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. 
 
 I.— 164s, fleeting. 
 
128 POEMS OF 
 
 GO, LOVELY ROSE! 
 
 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. 5 
 
 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. 10 
 
 Small is the worth 
 
 Of beauty from the light retired ; 
 
 Bid her come forth. 
 
 Suffer herself to be desired, 
 
 And not blush so to be admired. 1 5 
 
 Then die I 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 ! 20 
 
EDMUND WALLER, 129 
 
 UNDER A LADY'S PICTURE. 
 
 Some ages hence, for it must not decay, 
 The doubtful wonderers at this piece, will say 
 Such Helen was ! and who can blame the boy 
 That in so bright a flame consumed his Troy ? 
 But had like virtue shined in that fair Greek, 
 The amorous shepherd had not dared to seek 
 Or hope for pity ; but with silent moan, 
 And better fate, had perished alone. 
 
 WRITTEN IN MY LADY SPEKE'S 
 SINGING-BOOK. 
 
 Her fair eyes, if they could see 
 
 What themselves have wrought in me, 
 
 Would at least with pardon look 
 
 On this scribbling in her book : 
 
 If that she the writer scorn, 
 
 This may from the rest be torn. 
 
 With the ruin of a part, 
 
 But the image of her graces 
 
 Fills my heart and leaves no spaces. 
 
130 POEMS OF 
 
 OF A LADY WHO WRIT IN PRAISE OF 
 MIRA. 
 
 While she pretends to make the graces known 
 Of matchless Mira, she reveals her own ; 
 And when she would another's praise indite, 
 Is by her glass instructed how to write. 
 
 TO ONE MARRIED TO AN OLD MAN. 
 
 Since thou wouldst needs (bewitched with some ill 
 
 charms !) 
 Be buried in those monumental arms, 
 All we can wish is, may that earth lie light 
 Upon thy tender limbs ! and so good night. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 131 
 
 AN EPIGRAM ON A PAINTED LADY 
 WITH ILL TEETH. 
 
 Were men so dull they could not see 
 That Lyce painted, should they flee. 
 Like simple birds, into a net 
 So grossly woven and ill set, 
 Her own teeth would undo the knot, 
 And let all go that she had got. 
 Those teeth fair Lyce must not show 
 If she would bite ; her lovers, though 
 Like birds they stoop at seeming grapes, 
 Are disabused when first she gapes ; i 
 
 The rotten bones discovered there, 
 Show 'tis a painted sepulchre, 
 
 ON MR. JOHN FLETCHER'S PLAYS. 
 
 Fletcher ! to thee we do not only ov/e 
 
 All these good plays, but those of others too ; ^ 
 
 Thy wit repeated does support the stage. 
 
 Credits the last, and entertains this age. 
 
 No worthies, formed by any Muse but thine, 5 
 
 Cuuld purchase robes to make themselves so fine. 
 
 I.— This is the reading of the folio Beaumont and Fletcher, 
 1647. Waller's 1664, and subsequent editions, All trnr good 
 flays, and all those other too. 1645, All these good plays, 
 but those otliers too. 
 
 K 2 
 
132 POEMS OF 
 
 What brave commander is not proud to see 
 Thy brave Melantius in his gallantry ? 
 Our greatest ladies love to see their scorn 
 Outdone by thine, in what themselves have worn ; 10 
 The impatient widow, ere the year be done, 
 Sees thy Aspasia weeping in her gown. 
 
 I never yet the tragic strain essayed, 
 Deterred by that inimitable Maid ; 
 And when I venture at the comic style, 15 
 
 Thy Scornful Lady seems to mock my toil. 
 
 Thus has thy Muse at once improved and marred 
 Our sport in plays, by rendering it too hard ! 
 So when a sort of lusty shepherds throw 
 The bar by turns, and none the rest outgo 20 
 
 So far, but that the best are measuring casts, 
 Their emulation and their pastime lasts ; 
 But if some brawny yeoman of the guard 
 Step in, and toss the axletree a yard, 
 Or more, beyond the furthest mark, the rest 25 
 
 Despairing stand, their sport is at the best. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 133 
 
 VERSES TO DR. GEORGE ROGERS, 
 
 ON HIS TAKING THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF 
 PHYSIC AT PADUA, IN THE YEAR 1646. 
 
 When as of old the earth's bold children strove, 
 
 With liills on hills, to scale the throne of Jove, 
 
 Pallas and Mars stood by their sovereign's side, 
 
 And their bright arms in his defence employed ; 
 
 While the wise Phoebus, Hermes, and the rest. 
 
 Who joy in peace, and love the Muses best, 
 
 Descending from their so distempered seat, 
 
 Our groves and meadows chose for their retreat. 
 
 There tirst Apollo tried the various use 
 
 Of herbs, and learned the virtues of their juice, 
 
 And framed that art, to which who can pretend 
 
 A juster title than our noble friend? 
 
 Whom the like tempest drives from his abode. 
 
 And like employment entertains abroad. 
 
 This crowns him here, and in the bays so earned, 
 
 His country's honour is no less concerned, 
 
 Since it appears not all the English rave. 
 
 To ruin bent ; some study how to save ; 
 
 And as Hippocrates did once extend 
 
 His sacred art, whole cities to amend ; 
 
 So we, great friend 1 suppose that thy great skill, 
 
 Thy gentle mind, and fair example, will, 
 
 At thy return, reclaim our frantic isle, 
 
 Their spirits calm, and peace again shall smile. 
 
134 POEMS OF 
 
 TO MY LADY MORTON, ON NEW-YEAR'S 
 DAY, 1650. 
 
 AT THE LOUVRE IN PARIS. 
 
 Madam ! new years may well expect to find 
 Welcome from you, to whom they are so kind ; 
 Still as they pass, they court and smile on you. 
 And make your beauty, as themselves, seem new. 
 To the fair Villiers we Dalkeith prefer,^ 5 
 
 And fairest Morton now as much to her ; 
 So like the sun's advance your titles show. 
 Which as he rises does the warmer grow. 
 
 But thus to style you fair, your sex's praise, 
 Gives you but myrtle, who may challenge bays ; 10 
 From armed foes to bring a royal prize. 
 Shows your brave heart victorious as your eyes. 
 If Judith, marching with the general's head, 
 Can give us passion when her story's read. 
 What may the living do, which brought away, 15 
 Though a less bloody, yet a nobler prey ; 
 Who from our flaming Troy, with a bold hand. 
 Snatched her fair charge, the Princess, like a brand ? 
 A brand ! preserved to warm some prince's heart. 
 And make whole kingdoms take her brother's part. 
 
 [20 
 I. — 1682, didpre/er. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 135 
 
 So Venus, from prevailing Greeks, did shroud 
 The hope of Rome, and save him in a cloud. 
 
 This gallant act may cancel all our rage, 
 Begin a better, and absolve this age. 
 Dark shades become the portrait of our time ; 25 
 Here weeps Misfortune, and their triumphs Crime ! 
 Let him that draws it hide the rest in night ; 
 This portion only may endure the light. 
 Where the kind nymph, changing her faultless shape. 
 Becomes unhandsome, handsomely to 'scape, 30 
 
 When through the guards, the river, and the sea, 
 Faith, beauty, wit, and courage, made their way. 
 As the brave eagle does with sorrow see 
 The forest wasted, and that lofty tree 
 Which holds her nest about to be o'erthrown, 35 
 
 Before the feathers of her young are grown. 
 She will not leave them, nor she cannot stay, 
 But bears them boldly on her wings away ; 
 So fled the dame, and o'er the ocean bore 
 Her princely burthen to the Gallic shore. 40 
 
 Born in the storms of war, this royal fair. 
 Produced like lightning in tempestuous air. 
 Though now she flies her native isle (less kind. 
 Less safe for her than either sea or wind !) 
 Shall, when the blossom of her beauty's blown, 45 
 See her great brother on the British throne ; 
 Where peace shall smile, and no dispute arise. 
 But which rules most, his sceptre, or her eyes. 
 
1 36 POEMS OF 
 
 TO SIR WILLIAM DAVENANT, 
 
 UPON HIS TWO FIRST BOOKS OF GONDIBERT. 
 
 Written in France. 
 
 Thus the wise nightingale that leaves her home, 
 Her native wood, when storms and winter come, 
 Pursuing constantly the cheerful spring, 
 To foreign groves does her old music bring. 
 
 The drooping Hebrews' banished harps, unstrung 
 At Babylon upon the willows hung ; [5 
 
 Yours sounds aloud, and tells us you excel 
 No less in courage, than in singing well ; 
 Whilst, unconcerned, you let your country know, 
 They have impoverished themselves, not you ; 10 
 
 Who, with the Muses' help, can mock those fates 
 Which threaten kingdoms, and disorder states. 
 So Ovid, when from Caesar's rage he fled, 
 The Roman Muse to Pontus with him led ; 
 >Vhere he so sung, that we, through pity's glass, 15 
 See Nero milder than Augustus was. 
 Hereafter such, in thy behalf, shall be 
 The indulgent censure of posterity. 
 To banish those who with such art can sing, 
 Is a rude crime, which its own curse does bring ; 20 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 137 
 
 Ages to come shall ne'er know how they fought, 
 Nor how to love their present youth be taught. 
 This to thyself. — Now to thy matchless book, 
 Wherein those few that can with judgment look. 
 May find old love in pure fresh language told, 25 
 
 Like new-stamped coin made out of Angel gold ; 
 Such truth in love as the antique world did know. 
 In such a style as courts may boast of now ; 
 Which no bold tales of gods or monsters swell, 
 But human passions, such as with us dwell. 30 
 
 Man is thy theme ; his virtue, or his rage, 
 Drawn to the life in each elaborate page. 
 Mars, nor Bellona, are not named here, 
 But such a Gondibert as both might fear ; 
 Venus had here, and Hebe been outshined 35 
 
 By thy bright Birtha and thy Rodalind. 
 Such is thy happy skill, and such the odds 
 Betwixt thy worthies and the Grecian gods ! 
 Whose deities in vain had here come down. 
 Where mortal beauty wears the sovereign crown ; 40 
 Such as of flesh composed, by flesh and blood, 
 Though not resisted, may be understood. 
 
138 FORMS OF 
 
 A PANEGYRIC TO MY LORD PROTECTOR, 
 
 OF THE PRESENT GREATNESS, AND JOINT INTEREST, 
 OF HIS HIGHNESS, AND THIS NATION. 
 
 While with a strong and yet a gentle hand. 
 You bridle faction, and our hearts rommand, 
 Protect us from ourselves, and from the foe, 
 Make us unite, and make us conquer too ; 
 
 Let partial spirits still aloud complain, 5 
 
 Think themselves injured that they cannot reign, 
 And own no liberty but where they may 
 Without control upon their fellows prey. 
 
 Above the waves as Neptune showed his face. 
 To chide the winds, and save the Trojan race, 10 
 
 So has your Highness, raised above the rest. 
 Storms of ambition, tossing us, repressed. 
 
 Your drooping country, torn with civil hate, 
 Restored by you, is made a glorious state ; 
 The seat of empire, where the Irish come, 15 
 
 And the unwilling Scotch, to fetch their doom. 
 
 The sea's our own ; and now all nations greet. 
 With bending sails, each vessel of our fleet ; 
 Your power extends as far as winds can blow, 
 Or swelling sails upon the globe may go. 20 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 139 
 
 Heaven, (that has placed this island to give law. 
 To balance Europe, and her states to awe) 
 In this conjunction does on Britain smile ; 
 The greatest leader, and the greatest isle ! 
 
 ^^'hether this portion of the world were rent, 25 
 
 By the. rude ocean, from the continent ; 
 Or thus created ; it was sure designed 
 To be the sacred refuge of mankind. 
 
 Hither the oppressed shall henceforth resort. 
 Justice to crave, and succour, at your court ; 30 
 
 And then your Highness, not for ours alone, 
 But for the world's protector shall be known. 
 
 Fame, swifter than your winged navy, flies 
 Through every land that near the ocean lies. 
 Sounding your name, and telling dreadful news 35 
 To all that piracy ahd rapine use. 
 
 With such a chief the meanest nation blessed. 
 
 Might hope to lift her head above the rest ; 
 
 What may be thought impossible to do 
 
 For ^ us, embraced by the sea and you ? 40 
 
 Lords of the world's great waste, the ocean, we 
 Whole forests send to reign upon the sea, 
 And every coast may trouble, or relieve ; 
 But none can visit us without your leave. 
 
 I. — Quarto, By, 
 
:40 POEMS OF 
 
 Angels and we have this prerogative, 45 
 
 That none can at our happy seat ' arrive ; 
 While we descend at pleasure, to invade 
 The bad with vengeance, and the good to aid. 
 
 Our little world, the image of the great, 
 Like that, amidst the boundless ocean set, 50 
 
 Of her own growth has all that Nature craves ; 
 And all that's rare, as tribute from the waves. 
 
 As Egypt does not on the clouds rely, 
 
 But to her " Nile owes more than to the sky ; 
 
 So what our earth, and what our heaven, denies, 55 
 
 Our ever constant friend, the sea, supplies. 
 
 The taste of hot Arabia's spice we know, 
 
 Free from the scorching sun that makes it grow ; 
 
 Without the worm, in Persian silks we shine ; 
 
 And, without planting, drink of every vine. 60 
 
 To dig for wealth we weary not our limbs ; 
 Gold, though the heaviest metal, hither svnms ; 
 Ours is the harvest where the Indians mow ; 
 We plough the deep, and reap what others sow. 
 
 Things of the noblest kind our own soil breeds ; 65 
 Stout are our men, and warlike are our steeds ; 
 Rome, though her es^le through the world had flown, 
 Could never make this island all her own. 
 
 I.— Quarto, seas^ 3. — Quarto, the. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 141 
 
 Here the Third Edward, and the Black Prince, too, 
 France- conquering Henry flourished, and now you ; 
 For whom we stayed, as did the Grecian ^ state, [70 
 Till Alexander came to urge their fate. 
 
 When for more worlds the Macedonian cried, 
 
 He wist not Thetis in her lap did hide 
 
 Another yet ; a world reserved for you, 75 
 
 To make more great than that he did subdue. 
 
 He safely might old troops to battle lead. 
 Against the unwarlike-Persian,^ and the Mede, 
 Whose hasty flight did, from a bloodless field. 
 More spoil than honour to the victor yield. 80 
 
 A race unconquered, by their clime made bold. 
 The Caledonians, armed 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 so ill confined, 85 
 
 With a new chain of garrisons you bind ; 
 Here foreign gold no more shall 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 snow, 90 
 
 May blame the sun, but must extol your grace, 
 Which in our senate has allowed them place. 
 
 I. — Quarto, Trojan. 2. — Quarto, Persians. 
 
 3. — Quarto, name. 
 
142 POEMS OF 
 
 Preferred by conquest, happily o'erthrown,' 
 Falling they^ rise, to be with us made one ; 
 So kind dictators made, when they came home, 95 
 Their vanquished foes free citizens of Rome. 
 
 Like favour find the Irish, with like fate, 
 Advanced to be a portion of our state ; 
 While by your valour and your courteous' mind, 
 Nations, divided by the sea, are joined. 100 
 
 Holland, to gain your friendship, is content 
 To be our outguard on the continent ; 
 She from her fellow-provinces would go. 
 Rather than hazard to have you her foe. 
 
 In our late fight, when cannons did diffuse, 105 
 
 Preventing posts, the terror and the news, 
 Our neighbour princes trembled at their roar ; 
 But our conjunction makes them tremble more. 
 
 Your never-failing sword made war to cease ; 
 And now you heal us with the arts* of peace ; no 
 Our minds with bounty and with awe engage, 
 Invite aftection, and restrain our rage. 
 
 Less pleasure take brave minds in battles won. 
 Than in restoring such as are undone ; 
 Tigers have courage, and the rugged bear, 115 
 
 But man alone can, whom he conquers, spare. 
 
 1. — Quarto, overthrown. 2.— Quarto, ^o«. 
 
 3 — Quarto, bounteous. 4.— Quarto, acts. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 143 
 
 To pardon willing, and to punish loath, 
 
 Yoa strike with one hand, but you heal with both ; 
 
 Lifting up all that prostrateJie, you grieve 
 
 You cannot make the dead again to live. 120 
 
 When fate, or error, had our age misled, 
 And o'er these nations^ such confusion spread, 
 The only cure, which could from Heaven come down. 
 Was so much power and clemency" in one ! 
 
 One ! whose extraction from an ancient line 125 
 
 Gives hope again that well-born men may shine ; 
 The meanest in your nature, mild and good. 
 The noble rest secured in your blood. 
 
 Oft have we wondered how you hid in peace 
 
 A mind' proportioned to such things as these ; 130 
 
 How such a ruling spirit you could restrain, 
 
 And practise first over yourself to reign. 
 
 Your private life did a just pattern give. 
 How fathers, husbands, pious sons should live ; 
 Born to command, your princely virtues slept, 135 
 Like humble David's, while the flock he kept. 
 
 But when your troubled country called you forth. 
 Your flaming courage, and your matchless worth. 
 Dazzling the eyes of all that did pretend. 
 To fierce contention gave a prosperous end. 140 
 
 I. — Quarto, this nation, 2. — Qyaxio, piety. 
 
 3. — Quarto, Amid, 
 
144 POEMS OF 
 
 Still as you rise, the state, exalted too, 
 
 Finds no distemper while 'tis changed by you ; 
 
 Changed like the world's great scene ! when, without 
 
 noise. 
 The rising sun night's vulgar lights destroys. 
 
 Had you, some ages past, this race of glory 145 
 
 Run, wiih amazement we should read your story ; 
 But living virtue, all achievements past, 
 Meets envy still, to grapple with at last. 
 
 Th's CEEsar found ; and that ungrateful age, 
 
 With lo.-ing him fell^ back to blood and rage ; 150 
 
 Mistaken Brutus thought to break their yoke. 
 
 But cut the bond of union with that stroke. 
 
 That sun once set, a thousand meaner stars 
 
 Gave a dim light to violence, and wars. 
 
 To such a tempest as now threatens all, 1 55 
 
 Did not your mighty arm prevent the fall. 
 
 If Rome's great senate could not wield that sword, 
 ■Which of the conquered world had made them lord. 
 What hope had ours, while yet their power was new, 
 To rule victorious armies, but by you ? 160 
 
 You ! that had taught them to subdue their foes. 
 Could order teach, and their high spirits compose ; 
 To every duty could their minds engage. 
 Provoke their courage, and command their rage. 
 
 I.— Quarto, went. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. HS 
 
 So when a lion shakes his dreadful mane, 165 
 
 And angry grows, if he that first took pain 
 To tame his youth approach the haughty beast. 
 He bends to him, but frights away the rest. 
 
 As the vexed world, to find repose, at last 
 Itself into Augustus' arms did cast ; 1 70 
 
 So England now does, with like toil oppressed. 
 Her weary head upon your bosom rest. 
 
 Then let the Muses, with such notes as these. 
 Instruct us what belongs unto our peace ; 
 Your battles they hereafter shall indite, 17s 
 
 And draw the image of our Mars in fight ; 
 
 Tell of towns stormed, of armies overrun,^ 
 And^ mighty kingdoms by your conduct won ; 
 How, while you thundered, clouds of dust did choke 
 Contending troops, and seas lay hid in smoke. 180 
 
 Illustrious acts high raptures do infuse, 
 
 And every conqueror creates a muse. 
 
 Here, in low strains, your milder deeds we sing ; 
 
 But there, my lord ; we'll bays and olive bring 
 
 To crown your head ; while you in triumph ride 185 
 O'er vanquished nations, and the sea beside ; 
 While all your neighbour-princes unto you. 
 Like Joseph's sheaves, pay reverence, and bow. 
 
 I.— Quarto, overcome. 2,— Quarto, Of. 
 
146 POEMS OF 
 
 TO MY WORTHY FRIEND, MR. WASE. 
 
 THE TRANSLATOR OF GRATIUS. 
 
 Thus, by the music, we may know 
 When noble wits a-hunting go. 
 Through groves that on Parnassus grow. 
 
 The Muses all the chase adorn ; 
 
 My friend on Pegasus is borne ; 5 
 
 And young Apollo winds the horn. 
 
 Having old Gratius in the wind, 
 No pack of critics e'er could find, 
 Or he know more of his own mind. 
 
 Here huntsmen with delight may read lO 
 
 How to choose dogs for scent or speed, 
 And how to change or^ mend the breed ; 
 
 What arms to use, or nets to frame, 
 
 Wild beasts to combat or to tame ; 
 
 With all the mysteries of that game. IS 
 
 I. — 1654, and. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 147 
 
 But, worthy friend ! the face of war 
 In ancient times doth differ far 
 From what our fiery battles are. 
 
 Nor is it like, since powder known. 
 
 That man, so cruel to his own, 20 
 
 Should spare the race of beasts alone 
 
 No quarter now, but with the gun 
 Men wait in trees from sun to sun. 
 And all is in a moment done. 
 
 And therefore we expect your next 25 
 
 Should be no comment, but a text 
 To tell how modem beasts are vexed. 
 
 Thus would I further yet engage 
 
 Your gentle Muse to court the age 
 
 With somewhat of your proper rage ; 30 
 
 Since none does more to Phoebus owe, 
 Or in more languages can show 
 Those arts which you so early know. 
 
148 POEMS OF 
 
 AD COMITEM MONUMETENSEM DE 
 
 BENTIVOGLIO SUO. 
 
 Floribus Angligenis non banc tibi necto coroUam, 
 
 Cum satis indigenis te probet ipse Liber : 
 
 Per me Roma sciet tibi se debere, quod Anglo 
 
 Romanus didicit cultius ore loqui. 
 
 Ultima qu£e tellus Aquilas duce Csesare vidit, 5 
 
 Candida Romulidum te duce scripta videt. 
 
 Consilio ut quondam Patriam nil juveris, esto ! 
 
 Sad studio cives ingenioque juvas. 
 
 Namque dolis liber hie instructus, et arte Batava, 
 
 A Belga nobis ut caveamus, ait. lo 
 
 Horremus per te civilis dira furoris 
 
 Vulnera ; discordes Flandria quassa monet. 
 
 Hie discat miles pugnare, orare senator ; 
 
 Qui regnant, leni sceptra tenere manu. 
 
 Macte, Comes ! virtute novS, vestri ordinis ingens 15 
 
 Ornamentum, sevi deliciasque tui ! 
 
 Dum stertunt alii somno vinoque sepulti, 
 
 Nobilis antiquo stemmate digna facis. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 149 
 
 TO HIS WORTHY FRIEND, 
 MASTER EVELYN, 
 
 UPON HIS TRANSLATION OF LUCRETIUS. 
 
 That chance and atoms make this all 
 In order democratical. 
 Where bodies freely run their course, 
 Without design, or fate, or force, 
 In English verse Lucretius sings, 5 
 
 As if with Pegasean wings. 
 He soared beyond our utmost sphere 
 And other worlds discovered there ; 
 His boundless and unruly wit. 
 To Nature does no bounds permit ; 10 
 
 But boldly has removed those bars 
 Of heaven and earth and seas and stars. 
 By which she was before supposed. 
 By moderate wits, to be enclosed. 
 Till his free muse threw down the pale, 1 5 
 
 And did at once dispark them all. 
 So vast this argument did seem. 
 That the wise author did esteem 
 The Roman language (which was spread 
 O'er the whole world, in triumph led) 20 
 
ISO POEMS OF 
 
 Too weak, too narrow to unfold 
 
 The wonders which he would have told. 
 
 This speaks thy glory, noble friend ! 
 
 And British language does commend ; 
 
 For here Lucretius whole we find, 25 
 
 His words, his music, and his mind. 
 
 Thy art has to our country brought 
 
 All that he writ, and all he thought. 
 
 Ovid translated, Virgil too. 
 
 Showed long since what our tongues could do ; 30 
 
 Nor Lucan we, nor Horace spared ; 
 
 Only Lucretius was too hard, 
 
 Lucretius, like a fort, did stand 
 
 Untouched, till your victorious hand 
 
 Did from his head this garland bear, 35 
 
 Which now upon your own you wear ; 
 
 A garland ! made of such new bays, 
 
 And sought in such untrodden ways. 
 
 As no man's temples e'er did crown. 
 
 Save this great author's, and your own ! 40 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 151 
 
 OF A WAR WITH SPAIN, AND A FIGHT 
 AT SEA. 
 
 Now, for some ages, had the pride of Spain 
 Made the sun shine on half the world in vain ; 
 While she bid war to all that durst supply 
 The place of those her cruelty made die. 
 Of nature's bounty men forebore to taste, 5 
 
 And the best portion of the earth lay waste, 
 From the new world her silver and her gold 
 Came, like a tempest, to confound the old ; 
 Feeding with these the bribed Electors' hopes. 
 Alone she gave us emperors and popes ;^ 10 
 
 With these accomplishing her vast designs,^ 
 Europe was shaken with her Indian mines. 
 
 When Britain, looking with a just disdain ^ 
 Upon this gilded majesty of Spain, 
 And knowing well that empire must decline, 1 5 
 
 Whose chief support and sinews are of coin, 
 Our nation's solid virtue* did oppose 
 To the rich troublers of the world's repose. 
 
 And now some months, encamping on the main, 
 
 I, — She made at pleastire Emperors and Popes, MS. in a 
 copy of the edition of 1664 that belonged to Col. Cunningham. 
 (See Notes andQueries^ 3rd series, ix, 192.) This and the preced- 
 ing line do not occur in the folio. 
 
 2. — With these advancing her unjust designs. Col. Cunning- 
 ham's copy. 
 
 3, — When our Protector looking with disdain. Ibid. 
 
 4. — Her native force and virtue^ folio 
 
152 POEMS OF 
 
 Our naval army had besieged Spain j 20 
 
 They that the whole world's monarchy designed, 
 Are to their ports by our bold fleet confined ; 
 From whence our Red Cross Ihey triumphant see, 
 Riding without a rival on the sea. 
 
 Others may vse the ocean as their road, 25 
 
 Only the English make it their abode. 
 Whose ready sails with every wind can fly, 
 And make a covenant with the inconstant sky ; ' 
 Our oaks secure, as if they there took root, 
 We tread on billows with a steady foot. 3t 
 
 Meanwhile the Spaniards in America, 
 Near to the line the sun approaching saw, 
 And hoped their European coasts to find 
 Cleared from our ships by the autumnal wind ; 
 Their huge capacious galleons stuffed with plate, 35 
 The labouring winds drive slowly towards their fate. 
 Before St. Lucar they their guns discharge. 
 To tell their joy, or to invite^ a barge ; 
 This heard some ships of ours, (though out of view) 
 And, swift as eagles, to the quarry flew ; 40 
 
 ( So heedless lambs, which for their mothers bleat, 
 V Wake hungry lions, and become their meat. 
 Arrived, they soon begin that tragic play, 
 And with their smoky cannons banish day ; 
 Night, horror, slaughter, vrith confusion meets, 45 
 And in their sable arms embrace the fleets. 
 
 I.— This and the preceding line do not occur in the folio. 
 2. — Folio, calljortk. 
 
EDMUND WALLER, 153 
 
 Through yielding planks the angry bullets fly, 
 
 And, of one wound, hundreds together die ; 
 
 Born under different stars one fate they have. 
 
 The ship their coffin, and the sea their grave ! 5° 
 
 Bold virere the men which ^ on the ocean first 
 
 Spread their new sails, when shipwreck was the 
 
 worst ; 
 More danger now from man alone we find — 
 Than from the rocks, the billows, or the wind. 
 They that had sailed from near the Antarctic Pole, 55 
 Their treasure safe, and all their vessels whole. 
 In sight of their dear country ruined be. 
 Without the guilt of either rock or sea ! 
 What they would spare, our fiercer art destroys, 
 Surpassing storms in terror and in noise. 60 
 
 Once Jove from Ida did both hosts survey, 
 And, when he pleased to thunder, part the fray ; 
 Here, heaven^ in vain that kind retreat should sound, 
 The louder cannon had the thunder drowned. 
 Some, we made prize ; while others, burned and 
 
 rent, 65 
 
 With their rich lading to the bottom went ; 
 Down sinks at once (so Fortune with us sports !) 
 The pay of armies, and the pride of courts. 
 Vain man 1 whose rage buries as low that store, 
 As avarice had digged for it before ; 70 
 
 What earth, in her dark bowels, could not keep 
 
 I, — Folio, who. 2,— Folio, Heaven Jure. 
 
154 POEMS OF 
 
 From greedy hands, lies safer in the deep. 
 Where Thetis kindly does from mortals hide 
 Those seeds of luxury, debate, and pride. 
 
 And now, into her lap the richest prize 75 
 
 Fell, with the noblest of our enemies ; 
 The Marquis (glad to see the fire destroy 
 Wealth that prevailing foes were to enjoy) 
 Out from his flaming ship his children sent. 
 To peri^ in a milder element ; 80 
 
 Then laid him by his burning lady's side, 
 And, since he could not save her, with her died. 
 Spices and gums about them melting fry. 
 And, phoenix-like, in that rich nest they die -^ 
 Alive, in flames of equal love they burned, 85 
 
 And now together are to ashes turned ; 
 Ashes ! more worth than all their funeral cost. 
 Than the huge treasure which was with them lost.^ 
 
 I. — In Col. Cunningham's copy, after this line, the following 
 pasiiage occurs : — 
 
 Death bitter is for what ive leave he-hind. 
 But taking uuitk us all we have is kind. 
 What could he more than hjjldfor term ofli/e, 
 riis Indian treasures and more precious wife ? 
 
 Alive^ &=c lost. 
 
 Fair Venus wept, her tender hands she wrung. 
 That love should perish whence herself was sprung. 
 Her son endeavouring their lives to save. 
 Drenched all his feathered arrows in the vjave .* 
 Since when so slow, and so jtfisure they move, 
 That never more we may expect such love. 
 
 2. — The poem ends with this line in the folio. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. ISS 
 
 These dying lovers, and their floating sons, 
 Suspend the fight, and silence all our guns ; 90 
 
 Beauty and youth about to perish, finds 
 Such noble pity in brave English minds, 
 That (the rich spoil forgot, their valour's prize) 
 All labour now to save their enemies. 
 How fr ail our passions ! how soon changed are 95 
 Our wrath and fury to a friendly care ! 
 They that but now for honour, and for plate. 
 Made the sea blush with blood, resign their hate ; 
 And, their young foes endeavouring to retrieve. 
 With greater hazard than they fought, they dive.^ 100 
 
 With these, returns victorious Montague, 
 With laurels in his hand, and half Peru. 
 Let the brave generals divide that bough, 
 Our great Protector hath such wreaths enow ; 
 His conquering head has no more room for bays ; 105 
 Then let it be as the glad nation prays ; 
 Let the rich ore forthwith be melted down. 
 And the state fixed by making him a crown ; 
 With ermine clad, and purple, let him hold 
 A royal sceptre, made of Spanish gold. no 
 
 1, — The poem, as reprinted in the editions of his poems pub- 
 lished during Waller's life, ends with this line ; the remaining 
 lines appeared in Bennet's edition of " The Second Part," 
 headed. Some Verses belonging to a Copy in the First Part 0/ 
 his Poems, entitled Upon a War with Spain, and a Fi^ht at 
 
 Sea. The close of it was originally thus. They were again 
 
 omitted in the edition of 1705. 
 
1 56 POEMS OF 
 
 TO HIS WORTHY FRIEND, 
 SIR THOS. HIGGONS, 
 
 UPON THE TRANSLATION OF "THE VENETIAN 
 TRIUMPH." 
 
 The winged lion's not so fierce in fight, 
 
 As Liberi's hand presents him to our sight ; 
 
 Nor would his pencil make him half so fierce, 
 
 Or roar so loud, as Businello's verse ; 
 
 But your translation does all three excel, 5 
 
 The fight, the piece, and lofty Businel. 
 
 As their small galleys may not hold compare 
 
 With our tall ships, whose sails employ more air ; 
 
 So does the Italian to your genius vail, 
 
 Moved with a fuller and a nobler gale. 10 
 
 Thus, while your muse spreads the Venetian story. 
 
 You make all Europe emulate her glory ; 
 
 You make them blush weak Venice should defend 
 
 The cause of Heaven, while they for words contend ; 
 
 Shed Christian blood, and populous cities raze, 15 
 
 Because they're taught to use some different phrase. 
 
 If, listening to your charms, we could our jars 
 
 Compose, and on the Turk discharge these wars, 
 
 Our British arms the sacred tomb might wrest 
 
 From Pagan hands, and triumph o'er the East ; 20 
 
 And then you might our own high deeds recite. 
 
 And with great Tasso celebrate the fight. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 157 
 
 PART OF THE FOURTH BOOK OF VIRGIL, 
 TRANSLATED. 
 
 Be^nning 
 .... Talesque nii*ierrima fletus 
 Fertque refertque soror 
 
 A nd ending with 
 Adnixi torquent spumas, et cserula verrunt. 
 
 All this her weeping sister does repeat 
 
 To the stern man, whom nothing could entreat ; 
 
 Lost were her prayers, and fruitless were her tears 
 
 Fate, and great Jove, had stopped his gentle ears. 
 
 As when loud winds a well-grown oak would rend 5 
 
 Up by the roots, this way and that they bend 
 
 His reeling trunk ; and with a boisterous sound 
 
 Scatter his leaves, and strew them on the ground ; 
 
 He fixed stands ; as deep his root doth lie 
 
 Down to the centre, as his top is high ; 10 
 
 No less on every side the hero pressed. 
 
 Feels love and pity shake his noble breast. 
 
 And down his cheeks though fruitless tears do roll. 
 
 Unmoved remains the purpose of his soul. 
 
 Then Dido, urged with approaching fate, 15 
 
 Begins the light of cruel Heaven to hate ; 
 
 Her resolution to dispatch and die, 
 
 Confirmed by many a horrid prodigy I 
 
 The water, consecrate for sacrifice. 
 
 Appears all black to her amazed eyes ; 2C 
 
iSS POEMS OF 
 
 The wine to putrid blood converted flows, 
 
 Which from her none, not her own sister, knows. 
 
 Besides, there stood, as sacred to her lord, 
 
 A marble temple which she much adored, 
 
 With snowy fleeces and fresh garlands crowned ; 25 
 
 Hence every night proceeds a dreadful sound ; 
 
 Her husband's voice invites her to his tomb, 
 
 And dismal owls presage the ills to come. 
 
 Besides, the prophecies of wizards old 
 
 Increased her terror and her fall foretold ; 30 
 
 Scorned, and deserted, to herself she seems. 
 
 And finds ^neas cruel in her dreams. 
 
 So to mad Pentheus, double Thebes appears. 
 And furies howl in his distempered ears ; 
 Orestes so, with like distraction tossed, 35 
 
 Is made to fly his mother's angry ghost. 
 
 Now grief and fury at their height arrive ; 
 Death she decrees, and thus does it contrive. 
 Her grieved sister, with a cheerful grace, 
 (Hope well dissembled shining in her face) 40 
 
 She thus deceives. "Dear sister ! let us prove 
 The cure I have invented for my love. 
 Beyond the land of Ethiopia lies 
 The place where Atlas does support the skies. 
 Hence came an old magician, that did keep 45 
 
 The Hesperian fruit, and made the dragon sleep ; 
 Her potent charms do troubled souls relieve. 
 And, where she lists, make calmest minds to grieve : 
 The course of rivers, or of heaven, can stop, 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 159 
 
 And call trees down from the airy mountain's top, 50 
 Witness, ye Gods ! and thou, my dearest part ! 
 How loath I am to tempt this guilty art. 
 Erect a pile, and on it let us place 
 That bed where I my ruin did embrace ; 
 With all the reliques of our impious guest, 55 
 
 Arms, spoils, and presents, let the pile be dressed ; 
 (The knowing woman thus prescribes) that we 
 May rase the man out of our memory." 
 
 Thus speaks the Queen, but hides the fatal end 
 For which she doth those sacred rites pretend. 60 
 
 Nor worse effects of grief her sister thought 
 Would follow, than Sichaeus' murder wrought ; 
 Therefore obeys her ; and now, heaped high, 
 The cloven oaks and lofty pines do lie ; 
 Hung all with wreaths and flowery garlands round, 65 
 So by herself was her own funeral crowned ! 
 Upon the top the Trojan's image lies, 
 And his sharp sword, wherewith anon she dies. 
 They by the altar stand, while with loose hair 
 The magic prophetess begins her prayer : 70 
 
 On Chaos, Erebus, and all the gods, 
 Which in the infernal shades have their abodes. 
 She loudly calls, besprinkling all the room 
 With drops, supposed from Lethe's lake to come. 
 She ^eeks the knot which on the forehead grows 75 
 Of new-foaled colts, and herbs by moonlight mows. 
 A cake of leaven in her pious hands 
 Holds the devoted Queen, and barefoot stands ; 
 
i6o POEMS OF 
 
 One tender foot was bare, the other shod, 
 
 Her robe ungirt, invoking every god, 80 
 
 And every power, if any be above. 
 
 Which takes regard of ill-requited love ! 
 
 Now was the time when weary mortals steep 
 Their careful temples in the dew of sleep ; 
 On seas, on earth, and all that in them dwell, 85 
 
 A death-like quiet, and deep silence fell ; 
 But not on Dido ! whose untamed mind 
 Refused to be by sacred night confined ; 
 A double passion in her breast does move, 
 Love, and fierce anger for neglected love. 90 
 
 Thus she afflicts her soul : "What shall I do? 
 With fate inverted, shall I humbly woo ? 
 And some proud prince, in wild Numidia bom. 
 Pray to accept me, and forget my scorn ? 
 Or shall I vrith the ungrateful Trojan go, 95 
 
 Quit all my state, and wait upon my foe ? 
 Is not enough, by sad experience ! known 
 The perjured race of false Laomedon ? 
 With my Sidonians shall I give them chase. 
 Bands hardly forced from their native place? 100 
 
 No ; — die ! and let this sword thy fury tame ; 
 Nought but thy blood can quench this^ guilty flame. 
 Ah, sister ! vanquished with my passion, thou 
 Betray'dst me first, dispensing with my vow. 
 Had I been constant to Sichaeus still, 105 
 
 And single-lived, I had not known this ill ! " 
 
 I.— 1658, thy. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. i6i 
 
 Such thoughts torment the Queen's enraged breast, 
 While the Dardanian does securely rest 
 In his tall ship, for sudden flight prepared ; 
 To whom once more the son of Jove appeared ; I io 
 Thus seems^ to speak the youthful deity, 
 Voice, hair, and colour, all like Mercury. 
 
 " Fair Venus' seed ! canst thou indulge thy sleep. 
 Nor better guard in such great danger keep ? 
 Mad, by neglect to lose so fair a wind ! 115 
 
 If here thy ships the purple morning find, 
 Thou shall behold this hostile harbour shine 
 With a new fleet, and fire, to ruin thine ; 
 She meditates revenge, resolved to die ; 120 
 
 Weigh anchor quickly, and her fury fly." 
 
 This said, the god in shades of night retired. 
 Amazed iEneas, with the warning fired. 
 Shakes off dull sleep, and, rousing up his men, 
 " Behold ! the gods command our flight again 
 Fall to your oars, and all your canvas spread ; 125 
 What god soe'er that thus vouchsaf st to lead. 
 We follow gladly, and thy will obey ; 
 Assist us still, smoothing our happy way, 
 And make the rest propitious ! " — With that word 
 He cuts the cable with his shining sword ; 130 
 
 Through all the navy doth like ardour reign, 
 They quit the shore, and rush into the main ; 
 Placed on their banks, the lusty Trojans sweep 
 Neptune's smooth face, and cleave the yielding deep. 
 
 I. — 1658, seeTfid. 
 
 M 
 
i62 POEMS OF 
 
 UPON THE LATE STORM, AND OF THE 
 DEATH OF HIS HIGHNESS ENSUING 
 THE SAME. 
 
 We must resign ! Heaven his great soul does claim 
 
 In storms, as loud as his immortal fame ; 
 
 His dying groans, his last breath, shakes our isle, 
 
 And trees uncut fall for his funeral pile ; 
 
 About his palace their broad roots are tossed J 
 
 Into the air. — So Romulus was lost ! 
 
 New Rome in such a tempest missed her king, 
 
 And from obeying fell to worshipping. 
 
 On CEta's top thus Hercules lay dead, 
 
 With ruined oaks and pines about him spread ; lo 
 
 The poplar, too, whose bough he wont to wear 
 
 On his victorious head, lay prostrate there ; ^ 
 
 Those his last fury from the mountain rent : 
 
 Our dying hero from the continent 
 
 Ravished whole towns ; and forts from Spaniards reft, 
 
 As his last legacy to Britain left. [15 
 
 The ocean, which so long our hopes confined. 
 
 Could give no limits to his vaster mind ; 
 
 !• — ^This and the preceding line do not occur in the broad- 
 side, or in Wither's Salt upon Salt (1639), where Waller's lines 
 are quoted "according to the Author's printed copy." 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 163 
 
 Our bounds' enlargement was his latest toil, 
 
 Nor hath he left us prisoners to our isle ; 20 
 
 Under the tropic is our language spoke, 
 
 And part of Flanders hath received our yoke. 
 
 From civil broils he did us disengage, 
 
 Found nobler objects for our martial rage ; 
 
 And, with wise conduct, to his country showed 25 
 
 Their ancient way of conquering abroad. 
 
 Ungrateful then ! if we -no tears allow 
 
 To him, that gave us peace and empire too. 
 
 Princes, that feared him, grieve, concerned to see 
 
 No pitch of glory from the grave is free. 30 
 
 Nature herself took notice of his death. 
 
 And, sighing, swelled the sea with such a breath, 
 
 That, to remotest shores her billows rolled, 
 
 The approaching fate of her great ruler told. 
 
 TO THE KING, 
 
 UPON HIS majesty's HAPPY RETURN. 
 
 The rising sun complies with our weak sight. 
 First gilds the clouds, then shows his globe of light 
 At such a distance from our eyes, as though 
 He knew what harm his hasty beams would do. 
 
 But your full majesty at once breaks forth 
 In the meridian of your reign. Your worth, 
 Your youth, and all the splendour of your state, 
 
 M 2 
 
i64 POEMS OF 
 
 (Wrapped up, till now, in clouds of adverse fate ! ) 
 
 With such a flood of light invade our eyes, 
 
 And our spread hearts with so great joy surprise, lo 
 
 That if your grace incline that we should live, 
 
 You must not, sir ! too hastily forgive. 
 
 Our guilt preserves us from the excess of joy, 
 
 Which scatters spirits, and would life destroy. 
 
 All are obnoxious ! and this faulty land, 15 
 
 Like fainting Esther, does before you stand. 
 
 Watching your sceptre. The revolted sea 
 
 Trembles to think she did your foes obey. 
 
 Great Britain, like blind Polypheme, of late. 
 In a wild rage, became the scorn and hate 20 
 
 Of her proud neighbours, who began to think 
 She, with the weight of her own force, would sink. 
 But you are come, and all their hopes are vain ; 
 This giant isle has got her eye again. 
 Now she might spare the ocean, and oppose 25 
 
 Your conduct to the fiercest of her foes. 
 Naked, the Graces guarded you from all 
 Dangers abroad ; and now your thunder shall. 
 Princes that saw you, different passions prove, 
 For now they dread the object of their love; 30 
 
 Nor without envy can behold his height. 
 Whose conversation was their late delight. 
 So Semele, contented with the rape 
 Of Jove disguised in a mortal shape, 
 AVhen she beheld his hands with lightning filled,, 35 
 And his bright rays, was with amazement killed. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 165 
 
 And though it be our sorrow, and our crime, 
 To have accepted life so long a time 
 Without you here, yet does this absence gain 
 Ng small advantage to your present reign ; 40 
 
 For, having viewed the persons and the things, 
 The councils, state, and strength of Europe's kings, 
 Vou know your work ; ambition to restrain. 
 And set them bounds, as Heaven does to the main. 
 We have you now with ruling wisdom fraught, 45 
 
 Not such as books, but such as practice, taught. 
 So the lost sun, while least by us enjoyed, 
 Is the whole night for our concern employed ; 
 He ripens spices, fruits, and precious gums, 
 Which from remotest regions hither comes. 50 
 
 This seat of yours (from the other world removed) 
 Had Archimedes known, he might have proved 
 His engine's force fixed here. Your power and skill 
 Make the world's motion wait upon your will. 
 
 Much suffering monarch ! the first English born 55 
 That has the crown of these three nations worn ! 
 How has your patience, with the barbarous rage 
 Of your own soil, contended half an age ? 
 Till (your tried virtue, and your sacred word. 
 At last preventing your unwilling sword) 60 
 
 Armies and fleets which kept you out so long. 
 Owned their great sovereign, and redressed his wrong. 
 When straight the people, by no force compelled. 
 Nor longer from their inclination held. 
 Break forth at once, like powder set on fire, 65 
 
i66 POEMS OF 
 
 And, with a noble rage, their King require ; 
 
 So the injured sea, which from her wonted course, 
 
 To gain some acres, avarice did force. 
 
 If the new banks, neglected once, decay, 
 
 No longer will from her old channel stay ; 7° 
 
 Raging, the late got land she overflows, 
 
 And all that's built upon't, to ruin goes. 
 
 Offenders now, the chiefest, do begin 
 To strive for grace, and expiate their sin. 
 All winds blow fair, that did the world embroil ; 75 
 Your vipers treacle yield, and scorpions oil. 
 
 If then such praise the Macedonian got, 
 For having rudely cut the Gordian knot. 
 What glory's due to him that could divide 
 Such ravelled interests ; has the knot untied, 80 
 
 And without stroke so smooth a passage made, 
 Where craft and malice such impeachments laid ? 
 
 But while we praise you, you ascribe it all 
 To His high hand, which threw the untouched wall 
 Of self-demolished Jericho so low ; 85 
 
 His angel 'twas that did before you go, 
 Tamed savage hearts, and made affections yield. 
 Like ears of corn when wind salutes the field. 
 
 Thus patience crowned, like Job's, your trouble ends, 
 Having your foes to pardon, and your friends ; 90 
 For, though your courage were so firm a rock, 
 What private virtue could endure the shock ? 
 Like your Great Master, you the storm withstood, 
 And pitied those who love with frailty showed. 
 
 Rude Indians, torturing all the royal race, 95 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 167 
 
 Him with the throne and dear-bought sceptre grace 
 That suffers best. What region could be found, 
 Where your heroic head had not been crowned ? 
 
 The next experience of your mighty mind 
 Is how you combat fortune, now she's kind. 100 
 
 And this way, too, you are victorious found ; 
 She flatters with the same success she frowned. 
 While to yourself severe, to others kind. 
 With power unbounded, and a will confined. 
 Of this vast empire you possess the care, 105 
 
 The softer part falls to the people's share. 
 Safety, and equal government, are things 
 Which subjects make as happy as their kings. 
 
 Faith, law, and piety, (that banished train ! ) 
 Justice and truth, with you return again. no 
 
 The city's trade, and country's easy life, 
 Once more shall flourish without fraud or strife. 
 Your reign no less assures the ploughman's peace, 
 Than the warm sun advances his increase ; 
 And does the shepherds as securely keep 115 
 
 From all their fears, as they preserve their sheep. 
 
 But, above all, the Muse-inspired train 
 Triumph, and raise their drooping heads again ! 
 Kind Heaven at once has, in your person, sent 
 Their sacred judge, their guard, and argument. 120 
 
 Nee magis expressi vultus per aenea signa, 
 Quam per vatis opus mores, animique, virorum 
 Clarorum apparent 1 .... 
 
 I. — This quotation (Horace, Ep. II. i. 248) was- added when 
 the poem was reprinted in the edition of 1664. 
 
i68 POEMS OF 
 
 ON ST. JAMES'S PARK, 
 
 AS LATELY IMPROVED BY HIS MAJESITC. 
 
 Of the first Paradise there's nothing found ; 
 Plants set by Heaven are vanished, and the ground ; 
 Yet the description lasts ; who knows the fate 
 Of lines that shall this paradise relate ? 
 
 Instead of rivers roiling by the side S 
 
 Of Eden's garden, here flows in the tide ; 
 The sea, which always served his empire, now 
 Pays tribute to our Prince's pleasure too. 
 Of famous cities we the founders know ; 
 But rivers, old as seas, to which they go, lo 
 
 Are nature's bounty ; 'tis of more renown 
 To make a river, than to build a town. 
 
 For future shade, young trees upon the banks 
 Of the new stream appear in even ranks ; 
 The voice of Orpheus, or Amphion's hand, 15 
 
 In better order could not make them stand ; 
 May they increase as fast, and spread their boughs, 
 As the high fame of their great owner grows I 
 May he live long enough to see them all 
 Dark shadows cast, and as his palace tall ! 20 
 
 Methinks I see the love that shall be made. 
 The lovers walking in that amorous shade ; 
 The gallants dancing by the river's side ; 
 They bathe in summer, and in winter slide. 
 Methinks I hear the music in the boats, 25 
 
 And the loud echo which returns the notes ; 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 169 
 
 While overhead a flock of new-sprung fowl 
 
 Hangs in the air, and does the sun control, 
 
 Darkening the sky ;^ they hover o'er, and shroud 
 
 The wanton sailors with a feathered cloud. 30 
 
 Beneath, a shoal of silver fishes glides, 
 
 And plays about the gilded barges' sides ; 
 
 The ladies, angling in the crystal lake, 
 
 Feast on the waters^ with the prey they take ; 
 
 At once victorious with their lines, and eyes, 35 
 
 They make the fishes, and the men, their prize. 
 
 A thousand Cupids on the billows ride, 
 
 And sea-nymphs enter with the swelling tide ; 
 
 From Thetis sent as spies, to make report. 
 
 And tell the wonders of her sovereign's court. 40 
 
 All that can, living, feed the greedy eye. 
 
 Or dead, the palate, here you may descry ; 
 
 The choicest things that furnished Noah's ark, 
 
 Or Peter's sheet, inhabiting this park ; 
 
 All with a border of rich fruit-trees crowned, 45 
 
 Whose loaded branches hide the lofty mound. 
 
 Such various ways the spacious alleys lead, 
 
 My doubtful Muse knows not what path to tread. 
 
 Yonder, the harvest of cold months laid up. 
 
 Gives a fresh coolness to the royal cup ; 50 
 
 There ice, like crystal firm, and never lost, 
 
 I. — Folio, aire. 1664 and subsequent editions. Darkening 
 the sky they hover o*re. 
 2.— This and the preceding line do not occur in the folio. 
 3. — Folio, water. 
 
170 POEMS OF 
 
 Tempers hot July with December's frost ; 
 Winter's dark prison, vphence he cannot fly, 
 Though the warm spring, his enemy, draws' nigh. 
 Strange ! that extremes should thus preserve the snow, 
 High on the Alps, or in deep caves below. [55 
 
 Here, a well-polished Mall gives us the joy 
 To see our Prince his matchless force employ ; 
 His manly posture, and his graceful mien, 
 Vigour and youth, in all his motions seen ; 60 
 
 His shape so lovely,^ and his limbs so strong. 
 Confirm our hopes we shall obey him long. 
 No sooner has he touched the flying ball, 
 But 'tis already more than half the Mall ; 
 And such a fuiy from his arm' has got, 65 
 
 As from a smoking culverin 'twere shot. 
 
 Near this my Muse, what most dehghts her, sees 
 A living gallery of aged trees ; 
 Bold sons of earth, that thrust their arms so high, 
 As if once more they would invade the sky. 70 
 
 In such green palaces the first kings reigned. 
 Slept in their shades, and angels entertained ; 
 With such old counsellors they did advise, 
 And, by frequenting sacred gi-oves, grew wise. 
 Free from the impediments of light and noise, 75 
 
 Man, thus retired, his nobler thoughts employs. 
 Here Charles contrives the ordering of his states. 
 Here he resolves his neighbouring princes' fates ; 
 
 I. Folio, ^(Wyj. 2. — Fo\io,comefy. 3. — 1664, aim. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 171 
 
 What nation shall have peace, where war be made, 
 
 Determined is in this oraculous shade ; 80 
 
 The world, from India to the frozen north, 
 
 Concerned in what this solitude brings forth. 
 
 His fancy, objects from his view receives ; 
 
 The prospect, thought and contemplation gives. 
 
 That seat of empire here salutes his eye, 85 
 
 To which three kingdoms do themselves apply ; 
 
 The structure by a prelate raised, Whitehall, 
 
 Built with the fortune of Rome's capitol ; 
 
 Both, disproportioned to the present state 
 
 Of their proud founders, were approved by Fate.^ go 
 
 From hence he does that antique pile behold, 
 
 Where royal heads receive the sacred gold ; 
 
 It gives them crowns, and does their ashes keep ; 
 
 There made like gods, like mortals there they sleep ; 
 
 Making the circle of their reign complete, 95 
 
 Those suns of empire ! where they rise, they set.^ 
 
 When others fell, this, standing, did presage 
 
 The crown should triumph over popular rage ; 
 
 Hard by that house, where all our ills were shaped, 
 
 The auspicious temple stood, and yet escaped. 100 
 
 So snow on jEtna does unmelted lie. 
 
 Whence rolling flames and scattered cinders fly ; 
 
 The distant country in the ruin shares ; 
 
 What falls from heaven the burning mountain spares. 
 
 I. — Folio, states and Fates. 
 
 2. — This and the preceding line are not in the folio. 
 
172 POEMS OF 
 
 Next, that capacious hall he sees, the room 105 
 
 Where the wliole nation does for justice come ; 
 
 Undjr whose large roof flourishes the gown. 
 
 And judges grave, on high tribunals, frown. 
 
 Here, like the people's pastor he does go,^ 
 
 His flock subjected to his view below ; 1 10 
 
 On which reflecting in his mighty mind, 
 
 No private passion does indulgence find ; 
 
 The pleasures of his youth suspended are, 
 
 And made a sacrifice to public care. 
 
 Here, free from court compliances, he walks, 115 
 
 And with himself, his best adviser, talks ; 
 
 How peaceful olive may his temples shade, 
 
 For mending laws, and for restoring trade ; 
 
 Or, how his brows may be with laurel charged, 
 
 For nations conquered, and our bounds enlarged. 120 
 
 Of ancient prudence here he ruminates,^ 
 
 Of rising kingdoms, and of falling states ; 
 
 What ruling arts gave great Augustus fame, 
 
 And how Alcides purchased such a name. 
 
 His eyes, upon his native palace bent, 125 
 
 Close by, suggest a greater argument. 
 
 His thoughts rise higher, when he does reflect 
 
 On what the world may from that star expect 
 
 Which at his birth appeared, to let us see 
 
 Day, for his sake, could with the night agree ; 130 
 
 I.— Folio, Here he does like the people' s pastor go 
 2. — Folio, meditates. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 173 
 
 A prince, on whom such different lights did smile, 
 Born the divided world to reconcile ! 
 Whatever Heaven, or high extracted blood 
 Could promise^ or foretell, he will make good ; 
 Reform the'se nations, and improve them more, 13S 
 Than this fair park, from what it was before. 
 
 TO THE QUEEN, UPON HER MAJESTY'S 
 BIRTHDAY, 
 
 AFTER HER HAPPY RECOVERY FROM A DANGEROUS 
 SICKNESS. 
 
 Farewell the year 1 which threatened so 
 
 The fairest light the world can show. 
 
 Welcome the new ! whose every day,. 
 
 Restoring what was snatched away 
 
 By pining sickness from the fair, J 
 
 That matchless beauty does repair 
 
 So fast, that the approaching spring, 
 
 (Which does to flowery meadows bring 
 
 What the rude winter from them tore) 
 
 Shall give her all she had before. 10 
 
 But we recover not so fast 
 The sense of such a danger past ; 
 We that esteemed you sent from heaven, 
 A pattern to this island given. 
 To show us what the blessed do there 15 
 
174 POEMS OF 
 
 And what alive they practised here, 
 
 When that which we immortal thought, 
 
 We saw so near destruction brought, 
 
 Felt all which you did then endure, 
 
 And tremble yet, as not secure. 20 
 
 So though the sun victorious be. 
 
 And from a dark eclipse set free. 
 
 The influence, which we fondly fear. 
 
 Afflicts our thoughts the following year. 
 
 But that which may relieve oui care 25 
 
 Is, that you have a help so near 
 For all the evil you can prove. 
 The kindness of your royal love ; 
 He that was never known to mourn. 
 So many kingdoms from him torn, 30 
 
 His tears reserved for you, more dear. 
 More prized, than all those kingdoms were ! 
 For when no healing art prevailed, 
 When cordials and elixirs failed. 
 On your pale cheek he dropped the shower, 35 
 Revived you hke a dying flower. 
 
 Nunc iiaque et versus et aeiera ludicra potut^ 
 
 Quid verum, atque decens, euro et rogo, et omnit in hoc sutn. 1 
 
 I.— Horace, Ep. 1. i, 10. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 175 
 
 TO A FAIR LADY, PLAYING WITH A 
 SNAKE. 
 
 Strange ! that such horror and such grace 
 Should dwell together in one place ; 
 A fury's arm, an angel's face 1 
 
 'Tis innocence, and youth, which makes 
 
 In Chloris' fancy such mistakes, J 
 
 To start at love, and play with snakes. 
 
 By this and by her coldness barred. 
 Her servants have a task too hard ; 
 The tyrant has a double guard ! 
 
 Thrice happy snake ! that in her sleeve 10 
 
 May boldly creep ; we dare not give 
 Our thoughts so unconfined a leave. 
 
 Contented in that nest of snow 
 
 He lies, as he his bliss did know. 
 
 And to the wood no more would go. 15 
 
 Take heed, fair Eve ! you do not make 
 
 Another tempter of this snake ; 
 
 A marble one so warmed would speak. 
 
176 POEMS OF 
 
 INSTRUCTIONS TO A PAINTER, 
 
 FOR THE DRAWING OF THE POSTURE AND PRO- 
 GRESS OF HIS majesty's FORCES AT SEA, UNDER 
 THE COMMAND OF HIS HIGHNESS-ROYAL ; TO- 
 GETHER WITH THE BATTLE AND VICTORY 
 OBTAINED OVER THE DUTCH, JUNE 3, 1665. 
 
 First draw the sea, that portion which between 
 The greater world and this of ours is seen ; 
 Here place the British, there the Holland fleet, 
 Vast floating armies ! both prepared to meet. 
 Draw the whole world, expecting who should' re'gii> 
 After this combat, o'er the conquered main. [5 
 
 Make Heaven concerned, and an unusual star 
 Declare the importance of the approaching war. 
 Make the sea shine with gallantry, and all— — ; 
 The English youth flock to their Admiral, 10 
 
 The valiant Duke ! whose early deeds abroad. 
 Such rage in fight, and art in conduct showed. 
 His bright sword now a dearer interest draws, 
 His brother's glory, and his country's cause. 
 
 Let thy bold pencil hope and courage spread^--, 15 
 Through the whole navy, by that hero led ; 
 
 I. — Folio, shall. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. I77 
 
 Make all appear, where such a Prince is by, 
 Resolved to conquer, or resolved to die. 
 With his extraction, and his glorious mind. 
 Make the proud sails swell more than with the wind ; 
 Preventing cannon, make his louder fame '--X?2- 
 
 Check the Eatavians, and their fury tame. 
 , So hungry wolves, though greedy of their prey, 
 "Stop when they find a lion in their way. 
 Make him bestride the ocean, and mankind 25 
 
 Ask his consent to use the sea and wind. 
 While his tall ships in the barred channel stand, 
 He grasps the Indies in his armed hand. 
 
 Paint an east wind, and make it blow away -J 
 
 The excuse of Holland for their navy's stay ; 30 
 
 Make them look pale, and, the bold Prince to shun. 
 
 Through the cold north and rocky regions run. 
 
 To find the coast where morning first appears, 
 
 By the dark pole the wary Belgian steers j 
 
 Confessing now he dreads the English more 35 
 
 Than all the dangers of a frozen shore ; 
 
 While from our arms, security to find. 
 
 They fly so far, they leave the day behind. 
 
 Describe their fleet abandoning the sea. 
 
 And all their merchants left a wealthy prey ; 40 
 
 Our first success in war make Bacchus crown, 
 
 And half the vintage of the year our own. 
 
 The Dutch their wine, and all their brandy lose, 
 
 Disarmed of that from which their courage grows ; 
 
 While the glad English, to relieve their toil, 45 
 
178 POEMS OF 
 
 In healths to their great leader drink the spoil. 
 
 His high command to Afric's coast extend, 
 And make the Moors before the English bend ; 
 Those barbarous pirates willingly receive ---P 
 Conditions such as we are pleased to give. 5° 
 
 Deserted by the Dutch, let nations know 
 We can our own and their great business do ; 
 False friends chastise, and common foes restrain. 
 Which, worse than tempests, did infest the main. 
 Within those Straits, make Holland's Smyrna fleet 55 
 With a small squadron of the English meet ; 
 Like falcons these, those like a numerous flock 
 Of fowl, which scatter to avoid the shock.^ 
 There paint confusion in a various shape ; 
 Some sink, some yield ; and, flying, some escape. 60 
 Europe and Africa, from either shore, 
 Spectators are, and hear our cannon roar ; 
 While the divided world in this agree. 
 Men that fight so, deserve to rule the sea. 
 
 But, nearer home, thy pencil use once more, 65 
 And place our navy by the Holland shore ; 
 The world they compassed, while they fought with 
 
 Spain, 
 But here already they resign the main ; 
 Those greedy mariners, out of whose way 
 Diffusive Nature could no region lay, 70 
 
 I. — Of scattered Fowl, which would avoid the shock,— 0:A, 
 Cunningham "s copy. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 179 
 
 At home, preserved from rocks and tempests, lie, 
 
 Compelled, like others, in their beds to die. 
 
 Their single towns, the Iberian armies pressed ; 
 
 We all their provinces at once invest ; 
 
 And, in a month, ruin their traffic more — 75 
 
 Than that long war could in an age before. 
 
 But who can always on the billows lie ? 
 The watery wilderness yields no supply. 
 Spreading our sails, to Harwich we resort. 
 And meet the beauties of the British court. 80 
 
 The illustrious Duchess, and her glorious train, 
 (Like Thetis with her nymphs) adorn the main. 
 The gazing sea-gods, since the Paphian Queen 
 Sprung from among them, no such sight had seen. 
 Charmed with the graces of a troop so fair, 85 
 
 Those deathless powers for us themselves declare, 
 Resolved the aid of Neptune's court to bring. 
 And help the nation where such beauties spring ; 
 The soldier here his wasted store supplies. 
 And takes new valour from the ladies' eyes. 90 
 
 Meanwhile, like bees, when stormy winter's gone. 
 The Dutch (as if the sea were all their own) 
 Desert their ports, and, falling in their way. 
 Our Hamburg merchants are become their prey. 
 Thus flourish they, before the approaching fight ; 95 
 As dying tapers give a blazing light. 
 
 To check their pride, our fleet half-victualled goes, 
 Enough to serve us till we reach our foes ; 
 Who now appear so numerous and bold, 
 
 N 2 
 
i8o POEMS OF 
 
 The action worthy of our arms we hold. loo 
 
 A greater force than that which here we find, 
 Ne'er pressed the ocean, nor employed the wind. 
 Restrained a while by the unwelcome night. 
 The impatient English scarce attend the light. 
 But now the morning (heaven severely clear !) 105 
 To the fierce work indulgent does appear ; 
 And Phoebus lifts above the waves his light, 
 That he might see, and thus record, the fight. 
 
 As when loud winds from different quarters rush, 
 Vast clouds encountering one another crush ; no 
 
 With swelling sails so, from their several coasts, 
 Join the Batavian and the British hosts. 
 For a less prize, with less concern and rage, 
 The Roman fleets at Actium did engage ; 
 They, for the empire of the world they knew, 115 
 These, for the Old contend, and for the New. 
 At the first shock, with blood and powder stained, 
 Nor heaven, nor sea, their former face retained ; 
 Fury and art produce effects so strange. 
 They trouble Nature, and her visage change. 120 
 
 Where burning ships the banished sun supply, 
 And no light shines but that by which men die. 
 There York appears ! so prodigal is he 
 Of royal blood, as ancient as the sea ! 
 Which down to him, so many ages told, 125 
 
 Has through the veins of mighty monarchs rolled ! 
 The great Achilles marched not to the field 
 Till Vulcan that impenetrable shield, 
 
EDMUND WALLER. iSi 
 
 And arms, had wrought a yet there no bullets flew, 
 But shafts and darts which the weak Phrygians 
 
 threw. 130 
 
 Our bolder hero on the deck does stand ' — "; 
 Exposed,/ihe bulwark of his native land ; 
 Defensive arms laid by as useless here, 
 Where massy balls the neighbouring rocks do tear. 
 Some power unseen those princes does protect, 135 
 Who for their country thus themselves neglect. 
 
 Against him first Opdam his squadron leads, 
 Proud of his late success against the Swedes ; 
 Made by that action, and his high command. 
 Worthy to perish by a prince's hand. 140 
 
 The tall Batavian in a vast ship rides. 
 Bearing an army in her hollow sides ; 
 Yet, not inclined the English ship to board, 
 More on his guns relies, than on his sword ; 
 From whence a fatal volley we received ; 145 
 
 It missed the Duke, but his great heart it grieved ; 
 Three worthy persons from his side it tore. 
 And dyed his garment with their scattered gore, 
 Happy ! to whom this glorious death arrives, 
 More to be valued than a thousand lives ! 150 
 
 On such a theatre as this to die, 
 For such a cause, and such a witness by! 
 Who would not thus a sacrifice be made, 
 To have his blood on such an altar laid ? 
 The rest about him struck with horror stood, 155 
 
 To see their leader covered o'er with blood; 
 
1 82 POEMS OF 
 
 So trembled Jacob, when he thought the stains'-v 
 
 Of his son's coat had issued from his veins. 
 
 He feels no wound but in his troubled thought ; 
 
 Before, for honour, now, revenge he fought; l6o 
 
 His friends in pieces torn, (the bitter news-->i 
 
 Not brought by Fame) with his own eyes he views. 
 
 His mind at once reflecting on their youth. 
 
 Their worth, their love, their valour, and their truth. 
 
 The joys of court, their mothers, and their wives, 165 
 
 To follow him, abandoned, — and their lives ! 
 
 He storms and shoots, but flying bullets now. 
 
 To execute his rage, appear too slow ; 
 
 They miss, or sweep but common souls away ; 
 
 For such a loss Opdam his life must pay. 1 70 
 
 Encouraging his men, he gives the word. 
 
 With fierce intent that hated ship to board. 
 
 And make the guilty Dutch, wdth his own arm, 
 
 Wait on his friends, while yet their blood is warm. 
 
 His winged vessel like an eagle shows, 175 
 
 When through the clouds to truss a swan she goes ; 
 
 The Belgian ship unmoved, like some huge rock -^7 
 
 Inhabiting the sea, expects the shock. 
 
 From both the fleets men's eyes are bent this way. 
 
 Neglecting all the business of the day ; I So 
 
 Bullets their flight, and guns their noise suspend ; 
 
 The silent ocean does the event attend, 
 
 Which leader shall the doubtful victory bless, 
 
 And give an earnest of the war's success ; 
 
 When Heaven itself, for England to declare, 1S5 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 183 
 
 Turns ship, and men, and tackle, into air. 
 
 Their new commander from his charge is tossed, 
 Which that young prince had so unjustly lost, 
 Whose great progenitors, with better fate, 
 And better conduct, swayed their infant state. r 90 
 His flight towards heaven the aspiring Belgian took. 
 But fell, like Phaeton, with thunder strook ; 
 From vaster hopes than his he seemed to fall. 
 That durst attempt the British Admiral ; 
 From her broad sides a ruder flame is thrown 195 
 Than from the fiery chariot of the sun ; 
 That, bears the radiant ensign of the day, 
 And she, the flag that governs in the sea. 
 
 The Duke, (ill pleased that fire should thus prevent - 
 The work which for his brighter sword he meant) 200 
 Anger still burning in his valiant breast, 
 Goes to complete revenge upon the rest, 
 ' So on the guardless herd, their keeper slain, " 
 Pushes a tiger in the Libyan plain. 
 The Dutch, accustomed to the raging sea, 205 
 
 And in black storms the frowns of heaven to see, 
 Never met tempest which more urged their fears. 
 Than that which in the Prince's look appears. 
 Fierce, goodly, young ! Mars he resembles, when 
 Jove sends him down to scourge perfidious men ; 210 
 Such as with foul ingratitude have paid, ~ 
 Both those that led, and those that gave them aid. 
 Where he gives on, disposing of their fates, 
 Terror and death on his loud cannon waits, 
 
1 84 POEMS OF 
 
 With which he pleads his brother's cause so well, 215 
 
 He shakes the throne to which he does appeal. 
 
 The sea with spoils his angry bullets strow, 
 
 Widows and orphans making as they go ; 
 
 Before his ship fragments of vessels torn, 
 
 Flags, arms, and Belgian carcasses are borne ; 220 
 
 And his despairing foes, to flight inclined. 
 
 Spread all their canvas to invite the wind. 
 
 So the rude Boreas, where he lists to blow. 
 
 Makes clouds above, and billows fly below, 
 
 Beating the shore ; and, with a boisterous rage, 225 
 
 Does heaven at once, and earth, and sea engage. 
 
 The Dutch, elsewhere, did through the watery field 
 Perform enough to have made others yield ; 
 But English courage, growing as they fight, 
 In danger, noise, and slaughter, takes dehght ; 230 
 Their bloody task, unwearied still, they ply. 
 Only restrained by death, or victory. 
 Iron and lead, from earth's dark entrails torn. 
 Like showers of hail from either side are borne ; 
 So high the rage of wretched mortals goes, 235 
 
 Hurling their mother's bowels at their foes ! 
 Ingenious to their ruin, every age • — '' 
 Improves the arts and instruments of rage. 
 Death-hastening ills Nature enough has sent. 
 And yet men still a thousand more invent ! 240 
 
 But Bacchus now, which led the Belgians on. 
 So fierce at first, to favour us begun ; 
 Brandy and wine, (their wonted friends) at length— y 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 185 
 
 Rerider them useless, and betray their strength. 
 
 iSp. corn in fields, and in the garden, flowerS, 245 
 
 Revive and raise themselves with moderate showers ; 
 
 But overcharged with never-ceasing rain, 
 
 Become too moist, and bend their heads again. 
 
 Their reeling ships on one another fall. 
 
 Without a foe, enough to ruin all. 250 
 
 Of this disorder, and the favouring wind, 
 
 The watchful English such advantage find. 
 
 Ships fraught with fire among the heap they throw. 
 
 And up the so-entangled Belgians blow. 
 
 The fiame invades the powder-rooms, and then, 255 
 
 Their guns shoot bullets, and their vessels men. 
 
 The scorched Batavians on the billows float, 
 
 Sent from their own, to pass in Charon's boat. ^ 
 
 And now, our royal Admiral success 
 (With all the marks of victory) does bless ; 260 
 
 The burning ships, the taken, and the slain, 
 Proclaim his triumph o'er the conquered mjiin. 
 Nearer to Holland, as their hasty flight 
 Carries the noise and tumult of the fight. 
 His cannons' roar, forerunner of his fame, 265 
 
 Makes their Hague tremble, and their Amsterdam ; 
 The British thunder does their houses rock. 
 And the Duke seems at every door to knock. 
 His dreadful streamer (like a comet's hair. 
 Threatening destruction) hastens their despair ; 270 
 Makes them deplore their scattered fleet as lost. 
 And fear our present landing on their coast. 
 
1 86 POEMS OF 
 
 The trembling Dutch the approaching Prince be- 
 hold, 
 As sheep a lion leaping towards their fold ; 
 Those piles, which serve them to repel the main, 275 
 They think too weak his fury to restrain. 
 " What wonders may not English valour work. 
 Led by the example of victorious York ? 
 Or, what defence against him can they make, 
 Who, at such distance, does their country shake ? 280 
 His fatal hand their bulwarks will o'erthrow, 
 And let in both the ocean, and the foe ; " 
 Thus cry the people ; — and, their land to keep, ■ 
 Allow our title to command the deep ; 
 Blaming their States' ill conduct, to provoke 285 
 
 Those arms, which freed them from the Spanish yoke. 
 
 Painter ! excuse me, if I have awhile 
 Forgot thy art, and used another style ; 
 For, though you draw armed heroes as they sit, 
 The task in battle does the Muses fit ; 290 
 
 They, in the dark confusion of a fight. 
 Discover all, instruct us how to write ; 
 And light and honour to brave actions yield. 
 Hid in the smoke and tumult of the field, 
 Ages to come shall know that leader's toil, 295 
 
 And his great name, on whom the Muses smile ; 
 Their dictates here let thy famed pencil trace. 
 And this relation with thy colours grace. 
 
 Then draw the parliament, the nobles met. 
 And our great monarch high above them set ; 300 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 187 
 
 Like young Augustus let his image be, 
 
 Triumphing for that victory at sea, 
 
 Where Egypt's Queen, and Eastern Kings o'erthrown, 
 
 Made the possession of the world his own. 
 
 Last draw the Commons at his royal feet, 305 
 
 Pouring out treasure to supply his fleet ; 
 
 They vow with lives and fortunes to maintain 
 
 Their King's eternal title to the main ; 
 
 And with a present to the Duke, approve /— ^ 
 
 His valour, conduct, and his country's love. 310 
 
 TO THE KING. 
 
 Gkeat Sir ! disdain not in this piece to stand, 
 
 Supreme commander both of sea and land. 
 
 Those which inhabit the celestial bower. 
 
 Painters express with emblems of their power ; 
 
 His club Alcides, Phoebus has his bow, 315 
 
 Jove has his thunder, and your navy you. 
 
 But your great providence no colours here — ^ 
 Can represent ; nor pencil draw that care, — - , 
 Which keeps you waking to secure our peace, 
 The nation's glory, and our trade's increase ; 320 
 
 You, for these ends, whole days in council sit, 
 And the diversions of your youth forget. 
 
 Small were the worth of valour and offeree. 
 If your high wisdom governed not their course ; 
 You as the soul, as the first mover you, 325 
 
 Vigour and life on every part bestow ; 
 
i88 POEMS OF 
 
 How to build ships, and dreadful ordnance cast, 
 Instruct the artists, and reward their haste. 
 
 So Jove himself, when Typhon heaven does brave. 
 Descends to visit Vulcan's smoky cave, 330 
 
 Teaching the brawny Cyclops how to frame 
 His thunder, mixed with terror, wrath, and flame. 
 Had the old Greeks discovered your abode, 
 Crete had not been the cradle of their god ; 
 On that small island they had looked with scorn, 335 
 And in Great Britain thought the thunderer born. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 UPON HER MAJESTY'S NEW BUILDINGS 
 AT SOMERSET HOUSE. 
 
 Great Queen ! that does our island bless 
 
 With princes and with palaces ; 
 
 Treated so ill, chased from your throne, 
 
 Returning, you adorn the town ; 
 
 And, with a brave revenge, do show 5 
 
 Their glory went and came with you. 
 
 While Peace from hence, and you were gone, 
 Your houses in that storm o'erthrown. 
 Those wounds which civil rage did give. 
 At once you pardon, and relieve. 10 
 
 Constant to England in yojir love, 
 As birds are to their wonted grove, 
 Though by rude hands their nests are spoiled, 
 There the next spring again they build. 
 
 Accusing some malignant star, 1 5 
 
 Not Britain, for that fatal war. 
 Your kindness banishes your fear, 
 Resolved to fix for ever here. 
 But what new mine this work supplies ? 
 Can such a pile from ruin rise ? 20 
 
 This, like the first creation, shows 
 As if at your command it rose 
 
igo POEMS OF 
 
 Frugality and bounty too, 
 (Those diflfering virtues) meet in you ; 
 From a confined, well-managed store, 25 
 
 You both employ and feed the poor.^ 
 
 Let foreign princes vainly boast 
 The rude effects of pride and cost ; 
 Of vaster fabrics, to which they 
 Contribute nothing but the pay ; 30 
 
 This, by the Queen herself designed. 
 Gives us a pattern of her raind ; 
 The state and order does proclaim 
 The genius of that royal dame. 
 Each part with just proportion graced, 35 
 
 And all to such advantage placed. 
 That the fair view her window yields, 
 The town, the river, and the fields, 
 Entering, beneath us we descry, 
 And wonder how we came so high. 40 
 
 She needs no weaiy steps ascend ; 
 All seems before her feet to bend ; 
 And here, as she was born, she lies ; 
 High, without taking pains to rise. 
 
 —After this line, 
 
 Like hitn which ottce desird to know 
 For what good deed men us'd him so, 
 
 Coi. Cunningham's copy. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 191 
 
 EPITAPH TO BE WRITTEN UNDER THE 
 LATIN INSCRIPTION 
 
 UPON THE TOMB OF THE ONLY SON OF THE 
 LORD ANDOVER. 
 
 'Tis fit the English reader should be told, 
 
 In our own language, what this tomb does hold. 
 
 'Tis not a noble corpse alone does lie 
 
 Under this stone, but a whole family. 
 
 His parents' pious care, their name, their joy, 5 
 
 And all their hope, lies buried with this boy ; 
 
 This lovely youth ! for whom we all made moan, 
 
 That knew his worth, as he had been our own. 
 
 Had there been space and years enough allowed. 
 His courage, wit, and breeding to have showed, 1 o 
 We had not found, in all the numerous roll 
 Of his famed ancestors, a greater soul ; 
 His early virtues to that ancient stock 
 Gave as much honour, as from thence he took. 
 
 Like buds appearing ere the frosts are passed, 1 5 
 To become man he made such fatal haste. 
 And to perfection laboured so to climb. 
 Preventing slow experience and time. 
 That 'tis no wonder Death our hopes beguiled ; 
 He's seldom old that will not be a child. 20 
 
192 POEMS OF 
 
 TO MR. KILLIGREW, 
 
 UPON HIS ALTERING HIS PLAY, "PANDORA," FROM A 
 
 TRAGEDY INTO A COMEDY, BECAUSE NOT APPROVED 
 
 ON THE STAGE. 
 
 Sir, you should rather teach our age the way 
 
 Of judging well, than thus have changed your play ; 
 
 You had obliged us by employing wit. 
 
 Not to reform Pandora, but the pit; 
 
 For as the nightingale, without the throng 5 
 
 Of other birds, alone attends her song. 
 
 While the loud daw, his throat displaying, draws 
 
 The whole assembly of his fellow-daws ; 
 
 So must the writer, whose productions should 
 
 Take with the vulgar, be of vulgar mould j 10 
 
 Whilst nobler fancies make a flight too high 
 
 For common view, and lessen as they fly. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 193 
 
 EPIGRAM UPON THE GOLDEN MEDAL. 
 Our guard upon the royal side ! 
 On the reverse our beauty's pride ! 
 Here we discern the frown and smile, 
 The force and glory of our isle. 
 In the rich medal, both so like S 
 
 Immortals stand, it seems antique ; 
 Carved by some master, when the bold 
 Greeks made their Jove descend in gold, 
 And Danae wondering at that shower, 
 Which falling, stormed her brazen tower. lo 
 
 Britannia there, the fort in vain 
 Had battered been with golden rain ; 
 Thunder itself had failed to pass ; 
 Virtue's a stronger guard than brass. 
 
 THE NIGHT-PIECE ; 
 
 OR, A PICTURE DRAWN IN THE DARK. 
 
 Darkness, which fairest nymphs disarms, 
 Defends us ill from Mira's charms ; 
 Mira can lay her beauty by, 
 Take no advantage of the eye, 
 Quit all that Lely's art can take, 
 And yet a thousand captives make. 
 
 Her speech is graced with sweeter sound 
 Than in another's song is found ; 
 And all her well-placed words are darts, 
 Which need no light to reach our hearts. 
 
 As the bright stars, and Milky Way, 
 
194 POEMS OF 
 
 Showed by the night, are hid by day ; 
 
 So we, in that accomplished mind, 
 
 Helped by the night, new graces find, 
 
 Which, by the splendour of her view, 15 
 
 Dazzled before, we never knew. 
 
 While we converse with her, we mark 
 No want of day, nor think it dark ; 
 Her shining image is a light 
 Fixed in our hearts, and conquers night. 20 
 
 Like jewels to advantage set, 
 Her beauty by the shade does get ; 
 There blushes, frowns, and cold disdain, 
 All that our passion might restrain, 
 Is hid, and our indulgent mind 25 
 
 Presents the fair idea kind. 
 
 Yet, friended by the night, we dare 
 Only in whispers tell our care ; 
 He that on her his bold hand lays. 
 With Cupid's pointed arrows plays ; 30 
 
 They with a touch, (they are so keen !) 
 Wound us unshot, and she unseen. 
 
 All near approaches threaten death ; 
 We may be shipwrecked by her breath ; 
 Love, favoured once with that sweet gale, 35 
 Doubles his haste, and fills his sail. 
 Till he arrive where she must prove 
 The haven, or the rock, of love. 
 
 So we the Arabian coast do know 
 At distance, when the spices blow ; 40 
 
 By the rich odour taught to steer. 
 Though neither day nor stars appear 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 195 
 
 OX THE PICTURE OF A FAIR YOUTH, 
 
 TAKEN AFTER HE WAS DEAD. 
 
 As gathered flowers, while their wounds are new. 
 Look gay and fresh, as on the stalk they grew ; 
 Torn from the root that nourished them, awhile 
 (Not taking notice of their fate) they smile. 
 And, in the hand which rudely plucked them, show 5 
 Fairer than those that to their autumn grow ; 
 So love and beauty still that visage grace ; 
 Death cannot fright them from their wonted place. 
 Alive, the hand of crooked Age had marred 
 Those lovely features, which cold death has spared. 
 
 No wonder then he sped in love so well, [10 
 
 When his high passion he had breath to tell ; 
 When that accomplished soul, in this fair frame, 
 No business had but to persuade that dame. 
 Whose mutual love advanced the youth so high, 15 
 That, but to heaven, he could no higher fly. 
 
196 POEMS OF 
 
 OF A TREE CUT IN PAPER. 
 
 Fair hand ! that can on virgin paper write, 
 Yet from the stain of ink preserve it white ; 
 Whose travel o'er that silver field does show 
 Like track of leverets in morning snow. > 
 
 Love's image thus in purest minds is wrought, 
 Without a spot or blemish to the thought. 
 Strange that your fingers should the pencil foil. 
 Without the help of colours or of oil ! 
 For though a painter boughs and leaves can make, 
 'Tis you alone can make them bend and shake ; 
 Whose breath salutes your new-created grove, 
 Like southern winds, and makes it gently move. 
 Orpheus could make the forest dance ; but you 
 Can make the motion and the forest too. 
 A poet's fancy when he paints a wood, 
 By his own nation only understood, 
 Is as in language so in fame confined ; 
 Not like to yours, acknowledged by mankind. 
 All that know Nature and the trees that grow. 
 Must praise the foliage expressed by you, 
 Whose hand is read wherever there are men : 
 So far the scissor goes beyond the pen. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 197 
 
 TO A LADY, 
 
 FROM WHOM HE RECEIVED THE FOREGOING COPY 
 WHICH FOR MANY YEARS HAD BEEN LOST. 
 
 Nothing lies hid from radiant eyes ; 
 
 All they subdue become their spies. 
 
 Secrets, as choicest jewels, are 
 
 Presented to oblige the fair ; 
 
 No wonder, then, that a lost thought 5 
 
 Should there be found, where souls are caught. 
 
 The picture of fair Venus (that 
 For which men say the goddess sat) 
 Was lost, till Lely from your look 
 Again that glorious image took. 10 
 
 If Virtue's self were lost, we might 
 From your fair mind new copies write. 
 All things but one you can restore ; 
 The heart you get returns no more. 
 
 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. 
 
POEMS OF 
 
 When architects have done their part, 
 
 The matter may betray their art ; lO 
 
 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, 15 
 
 And, like the tide, our work o'erflows. 
 
 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. 20 
 
 The beauties which adorned 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 ; 25 
 
 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 30 
 
 Of fading beauty ; if it prove 
 
 But as long-lived as present love. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 199 
 
 TO THE DUCHESS, 
 
 WHEN HE PRESENTED THIS BOOK TO HER ROYAL 
 HIGHNESS. 
 
 Madam ! I here present you with the rage, 
 
 And with the beauties, of a former age ; 
 
 Wishing you may with as great pleasure view 
 
 This, as we take in gazing upon you. 
 
 Thus we writ then : your brighter eyes inspire 5 
 
 A nobler flame, and raise our genius higher. 
 
 While we your wit and early knowledge fear, 
 
 To our productions we become severe ; 
 
 Your matchless beauty gives our fancy wing, 
 
 Your judgment makes us careful how we sing. 10 
 
 Lines not composed, as heretofore, in haste. 
 
 Polished like marble, shall like marble last. 
 
 And make you through as many ages shine. 
 
 As Tasso has the heroes of your line. 
 
 Though other names our wary writers use, 15 
 
 You are the subject of the British muse ; 
 Dilating mischief to yourself unknown. 
 Men write, and die, of wounds they dare not own. 
 So the bright sun burns all our grass away. 
 While it means nothing but to give us day. 20 
 
POEMS OF 
 
 TO THE DUCHESS OF ORLEANS, 
 
 WHEN SHE WAS TAKING LEAVE OF THE COURT 
 AT DOVER. 
 
 That sun of beauty did among us rise ; 
 England first saw the light of your fair eyes ; 
 In English, too, your early wit was shown ; 
 Favour that language, which was then your own, 
 When, though a child, through guards you made 
 your way ; 5 
 
 What fleet or army could an angel stay ? 
 Thrice happy Britain ! if she could retain 
 Whom she first bred within her ambient main. 
 Our late burned London, in apparel new, 
 Shook off her ashes to have treated you ; 10 
 
 But we must see our glory snatched away, 
 And with warm tears increase the guilty sea ; 
 No wind can favour us ; howe'er it blows. 
 We must be wrecked, and our dear treasure lose ! 
 Sighs will not let us half our sorrows tell, — 15 
 
 Fair, lovely, great, and best of nymphs, farewell ! 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 TO A FRIEND OF THE AUTHOR, 
 
 PERSON OF HONOUR, WHO LATELY WRIT A 
 RELIGIOUS BOOK, ENTITLED, " HISTORICAL 
 APPLICATIONS, AND OCCASIONAL MEDITA- 
 TIONS, UPON SEVERAL SUBJECTS.' 
 
 Bold is the man that dares engage 
 
 For piety in such an age ! 
 
 Who can presume to find a guard 
 
 From scorn, when Heaven's so little spared ? 
 
 Divines are pardoned ; they defend 5 
 
 Altars on which their lives depend ; 
 
 But the profane impatient are. 
 
 When nobler pens make this their care ; 
 
 For why should these let in a beam 
 
 Of divine light to trouble them, 10 
 
 And call in doubt their pleasing thought, 
 
 That none believes what we are taught ? 
 
 High birth, and fortune, warrant give 
 
 That such men write what they believe ; 
 
 And, feeling first what they indite, 15 
 
 New credit give to ancient light. 
 
 Amongst these few, our author brings 
 
 His well-known pedigree from kings. 
 
 This book, the image of his mind. 
 
 Will make his name not hard to find ; 20 
 
 I wish the throng of Great and Good 
 
 Made it less easily understood ! 
 
POEMS OF 
 
 OF HER ROYAL HIGHNESS, MOTHER TO 
 THE PRINCE OF ORANGE ; 
 
 AND OF HER PORTRAIT, WRITTEN BY THE LATE 
 DUCHESS OF YORK WHILE SHE LIVED WITH HER. 
 
 Heroic nymph ! in tempests the support. 
 
 In peace the glory of the British court ! 
 
 Into whose arms the church, the state, and all 
 
 That precious is, or sacred here, did fall. 
 
 Ages to come, that shall your bounty hear, 5 
 
 Will think you mistress of the Indies were ; 
 
 Though straiter bounds your fortunes did confine. 
 
 In your large heart was found a wealthy mine ; 
 
 Like the blest oil, the widow's lasting feast. 
 
 Your treasure, as you poured it out, increased. 10 
 
 While some your beauty, some your bounty sing. 
 
 Your native isle does with your praises ring ; 
 
 But, above all, a nymph of your own train 
 
 Gives us your character in such a strain, 
 
 As none but she, who in that court did dwell, 15 
 
 Could know such worth, or worth describe so well. 
 
 So while we mortals here at heaven do guess, 
 
 And more our weakness, than the place, express, 
 
 Some angel, a domestic there, comes down. 
 
 And tells the wonders he hath seen and known. 20 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 203 
 
 ON THE STATUE OF KING CHARLES I. 
 
 AT CHARING CROSS. 
 
 That the First Charles does here in triumph ride, 
 
 See his son reign where he a martyr died, 
 
 And people pay that reverence as they pass, 
 
 (Which then he wanted !) to the sacred brass, 
 
 Is not the effect of gratitude alone, 5 
 
 To which we owe the statue and the stone ; 
 
 But Heaven this lasting monument has wrought, 
 
 That mortals may eternally be taught 
 
 Rebellion, though successful, is but vain, 
 
 And kings so killed rise conquerers again. 10 
 
 This truth the royal image does proclaim. 
 
 Loud as the trumpet of surviving Fame. 
 
 EPITAPH ON COLONEL CHARLES 
 CAVENDISH. 
 
 Here lies Charles Ca'ndish : let the marble stone, 
 That hides his ashes, make his virtue known. 
 Beauty and valour did his short life grace, 
 The grief and glory of his noble race ! 
 Early abroad he did the world survey, 
 As if he knew he had not long to stay ; 
 Saw what great Alexander in the East, 
 And mighty Julius conquered in the West ; 
 
204 POEMS OF 
 
 Then, with a mind as great as theirs, he came 
 
 To find at home occasion for his fame ; 10 
 
 Where dark confusion did the nations hide, 
 
 And where the juster was the weaker side. 
 
 Two loyal brothers took their sovereign's part, 
 
 Employed their wealth, their courage, and their art ; 
 
 The elder did whole regiments afford ; 1 5 
 
 The younger brought his conduct and his sword. 
 
 Born to command, a leader he begun, 
 
 And on the rebels lasting honour won. 
 
 The horse, instructed by their general's worth, 
 
 Still made the King victorious in the north. 20 
 
 Where Ca'ndish fought, the Royalists prevailed ; 
 
 Neither his courage, nor his judgment, failed. 
 
 The current of his victories found no stop, 
 
 Till Cromwell came, his party's chiefest prop. 
 
 Equal success had set these champions high, 25 
 
 And both resolved to conquer or to die. 
 
 Virtue with rs^e, fury with valour strove ; 
 
 But that must fall which is decreed above ! 
 
 Cromwell, with odds of number and of fate. 
 
 Removed this bulwark of the church and state ; 30 
 
 Which the sad issue of the war declared. 
 
 And made his task, to ruin both, less hard. 
 
 So when the bank, neglected, is o'erthrown, 
 
 The boundless torrent does the country drown. 
 
 Thus fell the young, the lovely, and the brave ; 35 
 
 Strew bays and flowers on his honoured grave ! 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 205 
 
 THE TRIPLE COMBAT. 
 
 When through the world fair Mazarin had run, 
 Bright as her fellow-traveller,' the sun, 
 Hither at length the Roman eagle flies, 
 As the last triumph of her conquering eyes. 
 As heir to Julius, she may pretend 
 A second time to make this nation^ bend ; 
 But Portsmouth, springing from the ancient race 
 Of Britons, which the Saxon here did chase. 
 As they great Caesar did oppose, makes head. 
 And does against this new invader lead. 
 That goodly nymph, the taller of the two, 
 Careless and fearless to the field does go. 
 Becoming blushes on the other wait. 
 And her young look excuses want of height. 
 Beauty gives courage ; for she knows the day 
 Must not be won the Amazonian way 
 Nor does her grace the better title want ; 
 Our law's indulgent to the occupant.^ 
 Legions of Beauties' to the battle come. 
 For Little Britain these, and those for Rome. 
 
 I. — Tonson, island, 
 
 2. — This couplet is not in Tonson's edition. 
 
 3. — Tonson, Cupids. 
 
2o6 I-OEMS OF 
 
 Dressed to advantage, this illustrious pair 
 
 Arrived, for combat in the list appear. 
 
 What may the Fates design ! for never yet 
 
 From distant regions two such beauties met. 
 
 Venus had been an equal friend to both, 25 
 
 And victory to declare herself seems loth ; 
 
 Over the camp, with doubtful wings, she flies. 
 
 Till Chloris shining in the field she spies. 
 
 The lovely Chloris well-attended came, 
 
 A thousand Graces waited on the dame ; 30 
 
 Her mati hless form made all the English glad, 
 
 And foreign beauties less assurance had ; 
 
 Yet, like the Three on Ida's top, they all 
 
 Pretend alike, contesting for the ball ; 
 
 Which to determine. Love himself declined, 35 
 
 Lest the neglected should become less kind. 
 
 Such killing looks ! so thick the arrows fly ! 
 
 That 'tis unsa e to be a stander-by. 
 
 Poets, approaching to describe the fight, 
 
 Are by their wounds instructed how to write. 40 
 
 They with less hazard might look on, and draw 
 
 The ruder combats in Alsatia ; 
 
 And, with that foil of violence and rage. 
 
 Set off the splendour of our golden age ; ' 
 
 Where Love gives law. Beauty the sceptre sways, 45 
 
 And, uncompelled, the happy world obeys. 
 
 I. — Bennet, the Golden Age. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 207 
 
 UPON OUR LATE LOSS OF THE DUKE OF 
 CAMBRIDGE. 
 
 The failing blossoms which a young plant bears, 
 
 Engage our hope for the succeeding years ; 
 
 And hope is all which art or nature brings, 
 
 At the first trial, to accomplish things. 
 
 Mankind was first created an essay ; 5 
 
 That ruder draught the deluge washed away. 
 
 How many ages passed, what blood and toil, 
 
 Before we made one kingdom of this isle ! 
 
 How long in vain had nature striven to frame 
 
 A perfect princess, ere her Highness came ! 10 
 
 For joys so great we must with patience wait ; 
 
 'Tis the set price of happiness complete. 
 
 As a first fruit. Heaven claimed that lovely boy ; 
 
 The next shall live, and be the nation's joy. 
 
2o8 POEMS OF 
 
 OF THE LADY MARY, &c. 
 
 As once the lion honey gave, 
 Out of the strong such sweetness came ; 
 A royal hero, no less brave. 
 Produced this sweet, this lovely dame. 
 
 To her the prince, that did oppose 
 Such mighty armies in the field. 
 And Holland from prevailing foes 
 Could so well free, himself does yield. 
 
 Not Belgia's Beet (his high command) 
 Which triumphs where the sun does rise. 
 Nor all the force he leads by land. 
 Could guard him from her conquering eyes. 
 
 Orange, with youth, experience has ; 
 In action young, in council old ; 
 Orange is, what Augustus was. 
 Brave, wary, provident, and bold. 
 
 On that fair tree which bears his name. 
 Blossoms and fruit at once are found ; 
 In him we all admire the same, 
 His flowery youth with wisdom crowned ! 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 209 
 
 Empire and freedom reconciled " 
 In Holland are by great Nassau ; 
 Like those he sprung from, just and mild, 
 To willing people he gives law. 
 
 Thrice happy pair ! so near allied 25 
 
 In royal blood, and virtue too ! 
 Now love has you together tied. 
 May none this triple knot undo ! 
 
 The church shall be the happy place 
 Where streams, which from the same source run, 
 Though divers lands awhile they grace, [30 
 
 Unite again, and are made one. 
 
 A thousand thanks the nation owes 
 
 To him that does protect us all ; 
 
 For while he thus his niece bestows, 35 
 
 About our isle he builds a wall ; 
 
 A wall ! like that which Athens had, 
 
 By the oracle's advice, of wood ; 
 
 Had theirs been such as Charles has made. 
 
 That mighty state till now had stood. 40 
 
POEMS OF 
 
 TO THE PRINCE OF ORANGE, 1677. 
 
 Welcome, great Prince, unto this land, 
 Skilled in the arts of war and peace ; 
 
 Your birth does call you to command, ' 
 Your nature does incline to peace. 
 
 V,Tien Holland, by her foes oppressed 5 
 
 No longer could sustain their weight ; 
 
 To a native prince they thought it best 
 To recommend their dying state. 
 
 Your very name did France expel ; 
 
 Those conquered towns which lately cost lo 
 
 So little blood, unto you fell 
 
 With the same ease they once were lost. 
 
 'Twas not your force did them defeat ; 
 
 They neither felt your sword nor fire ; 
 But seemed willing to retreat, 15 
 
 And to your greatness did conspire. 
 
 Nor have you since ungrateful been, 
 
 When at Seneff you did expose. 
 And at Mount Cassal, your own men. 
 
 Whereby you might secure your foes. 20 
 
 Let Maestricht's siege enlarge your name, 
 
 And your retreat at Charleroy ; 
 Warriors by flying may gain fame. 
 
 And Parthian-like their foes destroy. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 2ii 
 
 Thus Fabius gained repute of old, 25 
 
 When Roman glory gasping lay ; 
 In council slow, in action cold, 
 
 His country saved, running away. 
 
 What better method could you take ? 
 
 When you by beauty's charms must move, 30 
 And must at once a progress make, 
 
 I' th' stratagems of war and love. 
 
 He that a princess' heart would gain. 
 
 Must learn submissively to yield ; 
 The stubborn ne'er their ends obtain ; 35 
 
 The vanquished masters are o' the field. 
 
 Go on, brave Prince, vrith like success. 
 
 Still to increase your hoped renown, 
 Till to your conduct and address. 
 
 Not to your birth, you owe a crown. 40 
 
 Proud Alva with the power of Spain 
 
 Could not the noble Dutch enslave ; 
 And wiser Parma strove in vain 
 
 For to reduce a race so brave. 
 
 They .now those very armies pay, 45 
 
 By Which they were forced to yield to you ; 
 
 Their ancient birthright they betray. 
 By their own votes you them subdue. 
 
 Who can then liberty maintain 
 
 When by such arts it is withstood ? 50 
 
 Freedom to princes is a chain. 
 
 To all that spring from royal blood. 
 
FOEMS OF 
 
 ON THE DUKE OF MONMOUTH'S 
 EXPEDITION 
 
 INTO SCOTLAND IN THE SUMMER SOLSTICE, 1679. 
 
 Swift as Jove's messenger, the winged god, 
 With sword as potent as hLs charming rod, 
 He flew to execute the King's command, 
 And in a moment reached that northern land, 
 Where day contending with approaching night, 5 
 
 Assists the hero with continued light. 
 
 On foes surprised, and by no night concealed, 
 He might have rushed ; but noble pity held 
 His hand a while, and to their choice gave space, 
 Which they would prove, his valour or his grace. 10 
 This not well heard, his cannon louder spoke, 
 And then, like lightning, through that cloud he broke. 
 His fame, his conduct, and that martial look. 
 The guilty Scotch with such a terror strook. 
 That to his courage they resign the field, 1 5 
 
 Who to his bounty had reliised to yield. 
 Glad that so little loyal blood it cost, 
 He grieves so many Biitons should be lost ; 
 Taking more pains, when he beheld them yield. 
 To save the flyers, than to win the field ; 20 
 
 And at the Court his interest does' employ, 
 
 I. — Bennet, did^ 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 213 
 
 That none, who 'scaped his fatal sword, should die. 
 
 And now, these rash bold men their error find, 
 Not trusting one beyond his promise kind ; 
 One ! whose great mind, so bountiful and brave, 25 
 Had learned the arts to conquer and to save. 
 
 In vulgar breasts no royal virtues dwell ; 
 Such deeds as these his high extraction tell, 
 And give a secret joy to him who reigns, 
 To see his blood triumph in Monmouth's veins ; 30 
 To see a leader whom he got and chose, 
 P'irm to his friends, and fatal to his foes. 
 
 But seeing envy, like the sun, does beat. 
 With scorching rays, on all that's high and great. 
 This, ill-requited Monmouth ! is the bough 35 
 
 The Muses send to shade thy conquering brow. 
 Lampoons, like squibs, may make a present blaze ; 
 But time and thunder pay respect to bays. 
 Achilles' arms dazzle our present view. 
 Kept by the Muse as radiant and as new 40 
 
 As from the forge of Vulcan first they came ; 
 Thousands of years are past, and they the same ; 
 Such care she takes to pay desert with fame ! 
 Than which no monarch, for his crown's defence. 
 Knows how to give a nobler recompense. 45 
 
 Covered with dust at one another thrown. 
 How can the lustre of their wit be shown ? 
 What Hector got for well defending Troy, 
 The Greeks did with the ruined town destroy. 
 
214 POEMS OF 
 
 UPON THE EARL OF ROSCOMMON'S 
 TRANSLATION OF HORACE, 
 
 "DE ARTE POETICA;'" AND OF THE USE OF 
 POETRY. 
 
 Rome was not better by her Horace taught, 
 Than we are here to comprehend his thought ; 
 The poet writ to noble Piso there ; 
 A noble Piso does instruct us here. 
 Gives us a pattern in his flowing style, 5 
 
 And with rich precepts does oblige our isle : 
 Britain ! whose genius is in verse expressed. 
 Bold and sublime, but negUgently dressed. 
 
 Horace will our superfluous branches prune. 
 Give us new rules, and set our harps in tune ; 10 
 
 Direct us how to back the winged horse. 
 Favour his flight, and moderate his force. 
 
 Though poets may of inspiration boast, 
 Their rage, ill-governed, in the clouds is lost. 
 He that proportioned wonders can disclose, 15 
 
 At once his fancy and his judgment shows. 
 Chaste moral writing we may learn from hence, 
 Neglect of which no wit can recompense. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 215 
 
 The fountain which from Helicon proceeds, 
 That sacred stream ! should never water weeds, 20 
 Nor make the crop of thorns and thistles grow, 
 Which envy or perverted nature sow. 
 
 Well-sounding verses are the ch&rm we use. 
 Heroic thoughts and virtue to infuse ; 
 Things of deep sense we may in prose unfold, 25 
 
 But they move more in lofty numbers told. 
 By the loud trumpet, which our courage aids, 
 We learn that sound, as well as sense, persuades. 
 
 The Muses' friend, unto himself severe, 
 With silent pity looks on all that err ; 30 
 
 But where a brave, a public action shines, 
 That he rewards with his immortal lines. 
 Whether it be in council or in fight, 
 His country's honour is his chief delight ; 
 Praise of great acts he scatters as a seed, 35 
 
 Which may the like in coming ages breed. 
 
 Here taught the fate of verses (always prized 
 With admiration, or as much despised), 
 Men will be less indulgent to their faults, 
 And patience have to cultivate their thoughts. 40 
 
 Poets lose half the praise they should have got. 
 Could it be known what they discreetly blot ; 
 Finding new words, that to the ravished ear 
 May like the language of the gods appear, 
 Such as, of old, wise bards employed to make 45 
 Unpolished men their wild retreats forsake ; 
 Law-giving heroes, famed for taming brutes, 
 
2i6 POEMS OF 
 
 And raising cities with their charming lutes ; 
 
 For rudest minds with harmony were caught, 
 
 And civil life was by the Muses taught. Jo 
 
 So wandering bees would perish in the air, 
 
 Did not a sound, proportioned to their ear. 
 
 Appease their rage, invite them to the hive, 
 
 Unite their force, and teach them how to thrive. 
 
 To rob the flowers, and to forbear the spoil, 55 
 
 Preserved in winter by their summer's toil ; 
 
 They give us food, which may with nectar vie. 
 
 And wax, that does the absent sun supply. 
 
 THESE VERSES WERE WRIT IN THE 
 TASSO OF HER ROYAL HIGHNESS. 
 
 Tasso knew how the fairer sex to grace. 
 But in no one durst all perfection place. 
 In her alone that owns this book is seen 
 Clorinda's spirit, and her lofty mien, 
 Sophronia's piety, Erminia's truth, 5 
 
 Armida's charms, her beauty, and her youth. 
 Our princess here, as in a glass, does dress 
 Her well-taught mind, and every grace express. 
 More to our wonder than Rinaldo fought. 
 The hero's race excels the poet's thought. 10 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 217 
 
 OF AN ELEGY MADE BY MRS. WHARTON 
 ON THE EARL OF ROCHESTER. 
 
 ThUB mourn the Muses ! on the hearse 
 Not strewing tears, but lasting verse, 
 Which so preserve the hero's name, 
 They make him hve again in fame. 
 
 Chloris, in lines so like his own, 5 
 
 Gives him so just and high renown, 
 That she the afflicted world relieves. 
 And shows that still in her he lives ; 
 Her wit as graceful, great, and good ; 
 Allied in genius, as in blood. 10 
 
 His loss supplied, now all our fears 
 Are, that the nymph should melt in tears. 
 Then, fairest Chloris ! comfort take, 
 For his, your own, and for our sake, 
 Lest his fair soul, that lives in you, 1 5 
 
 Should from the world for ever go. 
 
2i8 POEMS OF 
 
 TO MR. CREECH, 
 
 ON HIS TRANSLATION OF "LUCRETIUS.' 
 
 What all men wished, though few could hope to see, 
 
 We are now blessed with, and obliged by thee. 
 
 Thou, from the ancient, learned Latin store, 
 
 Giv'st us one author, and we hope for more. 
 
 May they enjoy thy thoughts ! — Let not the stage 5 
 
 The idlest moment of thy hours engage ; 
 
 Each year that place some wondrous monster breeds. 
 
 And the wit's garden is o'errun with weeds. 
 
 There, Farce is Comedy ; bombast called strong ; 
 
 Soft words, with nothing in them, make a song. 10 
 
 'Tis hard to say they steal them now-a-days ; 
 
 For sure the ancients never wrote such plays. 
 
 These scribbling insects have what they deserve, 
 
 Not plenty, nor the glory for to starve. 
 
 That Spenser knew, that Tasso felt before ; 1 5 
 
 And death found surly Ben exceeding poor. 
 
 Heaven turn the omen from their image here ! 
 
 May he with joy the well-placed laurel wear ! 
 
 Great Virgil's happier fortune may he find. 
 
 And be our Caesar, like Augustus, kind ! 20 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 219 
 
 But let not this disturb thy tuneful head ; 
 Thou writ'st for thy delight, and not for bread ; 
 Thou art not cursed to write thy verse with care ; 
 But art above what other poets fear. 
 What may we not expect from such a hand, 25 
 
 That has, with books, himself at free command ? 
 Thou know'st in youth, what age has sought in vain ; 
 And bring'st forth sons without a mother's pain. 
 So easy is thy sense, thy verse so sweet, 
 Thy words so proper, and thy phrase so fit, 30 
 
 We read, and read again ; and still admire 
 Whence came this youth, and whence this wondrous 
 fire! 
 
 Pardon this rapture, sir ! but who can be 
 Cold, and unmoved, yet have his thoughts on thee? 
 Thy goodness may my several faults forgive, 35 
 
 And by your help these wretched lines may live. 
 But if, when viewed by your severer sight. 
 They seem unworthy to behold the light. 
 Let them with speed in deserved flames be thrown ! 
 They'll send no sighs, nor murmur out a groan ; 40 
 But, dying silently, your justice own. 
 
220 POEMS OP 
 
 SUNG BY MRS. KNIGHT, TO HER MAJESTY, 
 ON HER BIRTHDAY. 
 
 This happy day two lights are seen, 
 
 A glorious saint, a matchless queen ; 
 
 Both named alike, both crowned appear, 
 
 The saint above, the Infanta here. 
 
 May all those years which Catherine 5 
 
 The martyr did for heaven resign. 
 
 Be added to the line 
 
 Of your blessed life among us here ! 
 
 For all the pains that she did feel, 
 
 And all the torments of her wheel, 10 
 
 May you as many pleasures share ! 
 
 May Heaven itself content 
 
 With Catherine the Saint ! 
 
 Without appearing old. 
 
 An hundred times may you, 1 5 
 
 With eyes as bright as now, 
 
 This welcome day behold ! 
 
 WRITTEN ON A CARD THAT HER 
 MAJESTY TORE AT OMBRE. 
 
 The cards you tear in value rise ; 
 So do the wounded by your eyes. 
 Who to celestial things aspire, 
 Are by that passion raised the higher. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 28 1 
 
 TRANSLATED OUT OF SPANISH. 
 
 Thodgh we may seem importunate, 
 While your compassion we implore ; 
 They whom you make too fortunate, 
 May with presumption vex you more. 
 
 OF HER MAJESTY, ON NEW-YEAR'S DAY, 
 1683. 
 
 What revolutions in the world have been. 
 
 How are we changed since we first saw the Queen ! 
 
 She, like the sun, does still the same appear, 
 
 Bright as she was at her arrival here ! 
 
 Time has commission mortals to impair, 5 
 
 But things celestial is obliged to spare. 
 
 May every new year find her still the same 
 In health and beauty as she hither came ! 
 When Lords and Commons, with united voice. 
 The Infanta named, approved the royal choice ; 10 
 First of our queens whom not the King alone. 
 But the whole nation, lifted to the throne. 
 
 Witli like consent, and like desert, was crowned 
 The glorious Prince that does the Turk confound. 
 Victorious both ! his conduct wins the day, 1 5 
 
 And her example chases vice away ; 
 Though louder fame attend the martial rage, 
 'Tis greater glory to reform the age. 
 
POEMS OF 
 
 OF TEA, COMMENDED BY HER MAJESTY. 
 
 Venus her myrtle, Phoebus has his bays ; 
 
 Tea both excels, which she vouchsafes to praise. 
 
 The best of queens, and best of herbs, we owe 
 
 To that bold nation which the way did show 
 
 To the fair region where the sun does rise, 5 
 
 Whose rich productions we so justly prize. 
 
 The Muse's friend, tea does our fancy aid. 
 
 Repress those vapours which the head invade, 
 
 And keeps that palace of the soul serene. 
 
 Fit on her birth-day to salute the Queen. 10 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 223 
 
 PROLOGUE FOR THE LADY- ACTORS : 
 
 SPOKEN BEFORE KING CHARLES 11. 
 
 Amaze us not with that majestic frown, 
 
 But lay aside the greatness of your crown ! 
 
 For your diversion here we act in jest, 
 
 But when we act ourselves we do our best. 
 
 You have a look which does your people awe, 5 
 
 When in your throne and robes you give them law. 
 
 Lay it by here, and use a gentler smile ! 
 
 Such as we see great Jove's in picture, while 
 
 He listens to Apollo's charming lyre, 
 
 Or judges of the songs he does inspire. 10 
 
 Comedians on the stage show all their skill. 
 
 And after do as Love and Fortune will. 
 
 We are less careful, hid in this disguise ; 
 
 In our own clothes more serious and more wise. 
 
 Modest at home, upon the stage more bold, 15 
 
 We seem warm lovers, though our breasts be cold ; 
 
 A fault committed here deserves no scorn. 
 
 If we act well the parts to which we're born. 
 
224 
 
 POEMS OF 
 
 PROLOGUE TO THE "MAID'S TRAGEDY," 
 
 Scarce should we have the boldness to pretend 
 
 So long renowned a tragedy to mend, 
 
 Had not already some deserved your praise 
 
 With like attempt. Of all our elder plays 
 
 This and Philaster have the loudest fame ; 5 
 
 Great are their faults, and glorious is their flame. 
 
 In both our English genius is expressed ; 
 
 Lofty and bold, but negligently dressed. 
 
 Above our neighbours our conceptions are ; 
 But faultless writing is the effect of care. 10 
 
 Our lines reformed, and not composed in haste. 
 Polished like marble, would like marble last. 
 But as the present, so the last age writ ; 
 In both we find like negligence and wit. 
 Were we but less indulgent to our faults, 1 5 
 
 And patience had to cultivate our thoughts, 
 Our Muse would flourish, and a nobler rage 
 Would honour this than did the Grecian stage. 
 
 Thus says our author, not content to see 
 That others write as carelessly as he ; 20 
 
 Though he pretends not to make things complete. 
 Yet, to please you, he'd have the poets sweat. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 22S 
 
 In this old play, what's new we have expressed 
 In rhyming verse, distinguished from the rest ; 
 That as the Rhone his hasty way does make 25 
 
 (Not mingling waters) through Geneva's lake, 
 So having here the dilTerent styles in view. 
 You may compare the former with the new. 
 
 If we less rudely shall the knot untie. 
 Soften the rigour of the tragedy, 30 
 
 And yet preserve each person's character, 
 Then to the other this you may prefer. 
 'Tis left to you : the boxes, and the pit. 
 Are sovereign judges of this sort of wit. 
 In other things the knowing artist may 35 
 
 Judge better than the people ; but a play, 
 (Made for delight, and for no other use) 
 If you approve it not, has no excuse. 
 
226 POEMS OF 
 
 EPILOGUE TO THE "MAID'S TRAGEDY." 
 
 SPOKEN BY THE KING. ^' 
 
 The fierce Melantius was content, you see, 
 
 The king should live ; be not more fierce than he ; 
 
 Too long indulgent to so rude a time, 
 
 Allien love was held so capital a crime. 
 
 That a crowned head could no compassion find, 5 
 
 But died — because the killer had been kind ! 
 
 Nor is't less strange, such mighty wits as those 
 
 Should use a style in tr^edy like prose. 
 
 Well-sounding verse, where princes tread the stage, 
 
 Should speak their virtue, or describe their rage. 10 
 
 By the loud trumpet, which our courage aids. 
 
 We learn that sound, as well as sense, persuades ; 
 
 And verses are the potent charms we use. 
 
 Heroic thoughts and virtue to infuse. 
 
 When next we act this tragedy again, 15 
 
 Unless you like the change, we shall be slain. 
 The innocent Aspasia's life or death, 
 Amintor's too, depends upon your breath. 
 Excess of love was heretofore the cause ; 
 Now if we die, 'tis want of your applause. 20 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 227 
 
 EPILOGUE TO THE "MAID'S TRAGEDY." 
 
 DESIGNED UPON THE FIRST ALTERATION OF THE 
 PLAY, WHEN THE KING ONLY WAS LEFT ALIVE. 
 
 AsPASiA bleeding on the stage does lie, 
 
 To show you still 'tis the Maid's Tragedy. 
 
 The fierce Melanlius was content, you see, 
 
 The king should live ; be not more fierce than he ; 
 
 Too long indulgent to so rude a time, 5 
 
 When love was held so capital a crime. 
 
 That a crowned head could no compassion find. 
 
 But died — because the killer had been kind ! 
 
 This better-natured poet had reprieved 
 
 Gentle Amintor too, had he believed 10 
 
 The-.fairer sex his pardon could approve, 
 
 Who to ambition sacrificed his love. 
 
 Aspasia he has spared ; but for her wound 
 
 (Neglected love !) there could no salve be found. 
 
 When next we act this tragedy again, 15 
 
 Unless you like the change, I must be slain. 
 Excess of love was heretofore the cause ; 
 Now if I die, 'tis want of your applause. 
 
228 POEMS OF 
 
 OF THE INVASION AND DEFEAT OF THE 
 TURKS, IN THE YEAR 1683. 
 
 The modern Nimrod, with a safe delight 
 Pursuing beasts, that save themselves by flight, 
 Grown proud, and weary of his wonted game, 
 Would Christians chase, and sacrifice to fame. 
 >— ' A prince with eunuchs and the softer sex 5 
 
 Shut up so long, would warlike 'nations vex, 
 Provoke the German, and, neglecting heaven, 
 Forget the truce for which his oath was given. 
 
 His Grand Vizier, presuming to invest 
 The chief imperial city of the west, 10 
 
 With the first charge compelled in haste to rise, 
 His treasure, tents, and cannon, left a prize ; 
 The standard lost, and janizaries slain. 
 Render the hopes he gave his master vain. ,J 
 The flying Turks, that bring these tidings home, 15 
 Renew the memory of his father's doom ; 
 And his guard murmurs, that so often brings 
 Down from the throne their unsuccessful kings. 
 
 The trembling Sultan's forced to expiate 
 His own ill-conduct by another's fate. 20 
 
 The Grand Vizier, a tyrant, though a slave, 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 229 
 
 A fair example to his master gave ; 
 
 He Bassas' head, to save his own, made fly, 
 
 And now, the Sultan to preserve, must die. 
 
 The fatal bowstring was not in his thought, 25 
 
 When, breaking truce, he so unjustly fought ; 
 Made the world tremble with a numerous host, 
 And of undoubted victory did boast. 
 Strangled he lies ! yet seems to cry aloud, 
 To warn the mighty, and instruct the proud, 30 
 
 That of the great, neglecfinrfto be just. 
 Heaven in a moment makes an heap of dust. 
 
 The Turks so low, why should the Christians lose 
 Such an advantage of their barbarous foes ? 
 Neglect their present ruin to complete, 35 
 
 Before another Solyman they get ? | 
 
 Too late they would with shame, repenting, dread 
 That numerous herd, by such a lion led ; 
 He Rhodes and Buda from the Christians tore, 
 Which timely union might again restore. 40 
 
 But, sparing Turks, as if with rage possessed. 
 The Christians perish, by themselves oppressed ; 
 Cities and provinces so dearly won. 
 That the victorious people are undone ! 
 
 What angel shall descend to reconcile 45 
 
 The Christian states, and end their guilty toil ? 
 A prince more fit from heaven we cannot ask 
 Than Britain's king, for such a glorious task ; 
 His dreadful navy, and his lovely mind, 
 Give him the fear and favour of mankind ; 50 
 
230 POEMS OF 
 
 His warrant does the Christian faith defend ; 
 
 On that relying, all their quarrels end. 
 
 The peace is signed, and Britain does obtain 
 
 What Rome had sought from her fierce sons in vain. 
 
 In battles won Fortune a part doth claim, 55 
 
 And soldiers have their portion in the fame ; 
 In this successful union we find 
 Only the triumph of a worthy mind. 
 'Tis all accomplished by his royal word, 
 Without unsheathing the destructive sword ; 60 
 
 Without a tax upon his subjects laid. 
 Their peace disturbed, their plenty, or their trade. 
 And what can they to such a prince deny, 
 With whose desires the greatest kings comply ? 
 
 The arts of peace are not to him unknown ; 65 
 
 This happy way he marched into the throne ; 
 And we owe more to heaven than to the sword, 
 The wished return of so benign a lord. 
 
 Charles ! by old Greece with a new freedom graced, 
 Above her antique heroes shall be placed. 70 
 
 What Theseus did, or Theban Hercules, 
 Holds no compare with this victorious peace. 
 Which on the Turks shall greater honour gain, 
 Than all their giants and their monsters slain : 
 Those are bold tales, in fabulous ages told ; 75 
 
 This glorious act the living do behold. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 A PRESAGE OF THE RUIN OF THE 
 TURKISH EMPIRE. 
 
 PRESENTED TO HIS MAJESTY ON HIS BIRTHDAY. 
 
 Since James the Second graced the British throne, 
 
 Truce, well observed, has been infringed by none ; 
 
 Christians to him their present union owe, 
 
 And late success against the common foe ; 
 
 While neighbouring princes, loth to urge their fate, 5 
 
 Court his assistance, and suspend their hate. 
 
 So angry bulls the combat do forbear. 
 
 When from the wood a lion does appear. 
 
 This happy day peace to our island sent, 
 As now he gives it to the continent. lo 
 
 A prince more fit for such a glorious task, 
 Than England's king, from Heaven we cannot ask ; 
 He, great and good ! proportioned to the work. 
 Their ill-drawn swords shall turn against the Turk. 
 
 Such kings, like stars with influence unconfined, 15 
 Shine with aspect propitious to mankind ; 
 Favour the innocent, repress the bold, 
 And, while they flourish, make an age of gold. 
 
 Bred in the camp, famed for his valour young ; 
 At sea successful, vigorous, and strong ; 20 
 
232 POEMS OF 
 
 His fleet, his army, and his mighty mind, 
 
 Esteem and reverence through the world do find. 
 
 A prince with such advantages as these. 
 
 Where he persuades not, may command a peace. 
 
 Britain declaring for the juster side, 25 
 
 The most ambitious will forget their, pride ; 
 
 They that complain will their endeavours cease. 
 
 Advised by him, inclined to present peace. 
 
 Join to the Turk's destruction, and then bring 
 
 All their pretences to so just a king. 30 
 
 If the successful troublers of mankind. 
 With laurel crowned, so great applause do find. 
 
 Shall the vexed world less honour yield to those 
 
 That stop their progress, and their rage oppose ? 
 Next to that power which does the ocean awe, 35 
 
 Is to set bounds, and give ambition law. 
 The British monarch shall the glory have, 
 
 That famous Greece remains no longer slave ; 
 
 That source of art and cultivated thought ! 
 
 Wliich they to Rome, and Romans hither brought. 40 
 The banished Muses shall no longer mourn, 
 
 But may with liberty to Greece return ; 
 
 Though slaves, (like birds that sing not in a cage) 
 
 They lost their genius, and poetic rage ; 
 
 Homers again, and Pindars, may be found, 45 
 
 And his great actions with their numbers crowned. 
 The Turk's vast empire does united stand ; 
 
 Christians, divided under the command 
 
 Of jarring princes, would be soon undone, 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 233 
 
 Did not this hero make their interest one ; 50 
 
 Peace to embrace, ruin the common foe, 
 Exalt the Cross, and lay the Crescent low. 
 
 Thus may the Gospel to the rising sun 
 Be spread, and flourish where it first begun ; 
 And this great day, (so justly honoured here !) 55 
 
 Known to the East, and celebrated there. 
 
 Heec ego longsevus cecini tibi, maxime regum ! 
 Ausus et ipse manu juvenum tentare laborem. — ^VlRG. 
 
234 
 
 POEMS OF 
 
 TO HIS MAJESTV, 
 
 UPON HIS MOTTO, BEATI PACII'ICI, 
 OCCASIONED BY THE TAKING OF BUDA, 1686. 
 
 BuDA and Rhodes proud Solyman had torn 
 
 From those, whom discord made the Pagan scorn ; 
 
 Vienna too besieged, had been his prize, 
 
 Had not the approach of winter made him rise : 
 
 This motto practised, you have turned the scale, 5 
 
 Christians united by your help prevail. 
 
 Thus you enlarge the bounds of Christendom, 
 
 Though public interest keep you still at home. 
 
 The Gallic Prince his glory did increase. 
 
 When among subjects he made duels cease : 10 
 
 But sure the Britain merits more renown. 
 
 That has made sovereigns lay their weapons down. 
 
 So peaceful ! and so valiant ! are extremes. 
 
 Not to be found, but in our matchless James. 
 
 The well-defended Buda, with the spoil 15 
 
 Was bravely got, but with much blood and toil : 
 
 Your nobler art of making peace destroys 
 
 The barbarous foe, without expense or noise. 
 
 So Heaven with silence favours our increase, 
 
 Preventing blasts and making tempests cease. 20 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 235 
 
 The world from Chaos was to Order brought, 
 By making peace among the parts that fought : 
 From like confusion you have Europe freed, 
 And with hke concord made their arms succeed. 
 Victorious Peace, with this well-chosen word, 25 
 
 To Turks more fatal than the Imperial sword, 
 Has for reward to your high merit given, 
 A title to be called the Son of Heaven. 
 
 —For they shall be called the Children of God.— Matt. y. 9. 
 
 EPITAPH ON SIR GEORGE SPEKE. 
 
 Under this stone lies virtue, youth, 
 Unblemished probity and truth ; 
 Just unto all relations known, 
 A worthy patriot, pious son ; 
 Whom neighbouring towns so often sent, 
 To give their sense in parliament ; 
 With lives and fortunes trusting one 
 Who so discreetly used his own. 
 Sober he was, wise, temperate, 
 Contented with an old estate, 
 Which no foul avarice did increase. 
 Nor wanton luxury make less. 
 While yet but young his father died, 
 And left him to a happy guide ; 
 
236 POEMS OF 
 
 Not Lemuel's mother with more care IJ 
 
 Did counsel or instruct her heir, 
 
 Or teach with more success her son 
 
 The vices of the time to shun. 
 
 An heiress she ; while yet alive, 
 
 All that was hers to him did give ; 20 
 
 And he just gratitude did show 
 
 To one that had obliged him so ; 
 
 Nothing too much for her he thought, 
 
 By whom he was so bred and taught. 
 
 So (early made that path to tread, 25 
 
 Which did his youth to honour lead) 
 
 His short life did a pattern give 
 
 How neighbours, husbands, friends, should live. 
 
 The virtues of a private life 
 Exceed the glorious noise and strife 30 
 
 Of battles won ; in those we find 
 The solid interest of mankind. 
 
 Approved by all, and loved so well, 
 Though young, like fruit that's ripe, he fell. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 237 
 
 EPITAPH ON HENRY DUNCH, ESQ., 
 
 IN NEWINGTON CHURCH, IN OXFORDSHIRE, 1686. 
 
 Here lies the prop and glory of his race, 
 
 Who, that no time his memory may deface, 
 
 His grateful wife, under this speaking stone 
 
 His ashes hid, to make his merit known. 
 
 Sprung from an opulent and worthy line, 5 
 
 Whose well-used fortune made their virtues shine, 
 
 A rich example his fair life did give. 
 
 How others should with their relations live. 
 
 A pious son, a husband, and a friend, 
 
 To neighbours too his bounty did extend 10 
 
 So far, that they lamented when he died. 
 
 As if all to him had been near allied. 
 
 His curious youth would men and manners know, 
 
 Which made him to the southern nations go. 
 
 Nearer the Sun, though they more civil seem, 15 
 
 Revenge and luxury have their esteem ; 
 
 Which well observing he returned with more 
 
 Value for England, than he had before ; 
 
 Her true religion, and her statutes too, 
 
 He practised not less than seeked to know ; 20 
 
 And the whole country grieved for their ill fate. 
 
 To lose so good, so just a magistrate. 
 
 To shed a tear may readers be inclined, 
 
 And pray for one he only left behind, 
 
 Till she, who does inherit his estate, 25 
 
 May virtue love like him, and vices hate. 
 
238 POEMS OF 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Chloris ! farewell. I now must go ; 
 For if with thee I longer stay, 
 Thy eyes prevail upon me so, 
 I shall prove blind, and lose my way. 
 
 Fame of thy beauty, and thy youth, 5 
 
 Among the rest, me hither brought ; 
 Finding this fame fall short of truth. 
 Made me stay longer than I thought. 
 
 For I'm engaged by word and oath, 
 
 A servant to another's will ; 10 
 
 Yet, for thy love, I'd forfeit both. 
 
 Could I be sure to keep it still. 
 
 But what assurance can I take. 
 
 When thou, foreknowing this abuse, 
 
 For some more worthy lover's sake, 1 5 
 
 Mayst leave me with so just excuse ? 
 
 For thou mayst say, 'twas not thy fault 
 
 That thou didst thus inconstant prove ; 
 
 Being by my example taught 
 
 To break thy oath, to mend thy love. 20 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 239 
 
 No, Chloris ! no : I will return, 
 And raise thy story to that height, 
 That strangers shall at distance burn, 
 And she distrust me reprobate. 
 
 Then shall my love this doubt displace, 25 
 
 And gain such trust, that I may come 
 And banquet sometimes on thy face, 
 But make my constant meals at home. 
 
 TO MR. GRANVILLE (NOW LORD 
 LANSDOWNE), 
 
 ON HIS VERSES TO KING JAMES II. 
 
 An early plant ! which such a blossom bears, 
 And shows a genius so beyond his years ; 
 A judgment ! that could make so fair a choice ; 
 So high a subject to employ his voice ; 
 Still as it grows, how sweetly will he sing 
 The growing greatness of our matchless King ! 
 
240 POEMS OF 
 
 LONG AND SHORT LIFE. 
 
 Circles are praised, not that abound 
 In largeness, but the exactly round : 
 So life we praise that does excel 
 Not in much time, but acting well. 
 
 TRANSLATED OUT OF FRENCH. 
 
 Fade, flowers ! fade. Nature will have it so ; 
 'Tis but what we must in our autumn do ! 
 And as your leaves lie quiet on the ground, 
 The loss alone by those that loved them found. 
 So in the grave shall we as quiet lie. 
 Missed by some few that loved our company ; 
 But some so like to thorns and nettles live, 
 That none for them can, when they perish, grieve-. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 241 
 
 SOME VERSES OF AN IMPERFECT COPY, 
 
 DESIGNED FOR A FRIEND, ON HIS TRANSLATION 
 
 OF ovid's "fasti." 
 
 Rome's holy-days you tell, as if a guest 
 
 With the old Romans you were wont to feast. 
 
 Numa's religion, by themselves believed. 
 
 Excels the true, only in show received. 
 
 They made the nations round about them bow, 5 
 
 With their dictators taken from the plough ; 
 
 Such power has justice, faith, and honesty ! 
 
 The world was conquered by morality. 
 
 Seeming devotion does but gild a knave. 
 
 That's neither faithful, honest, just, nor brave ; 10 
 
 But where religion does with virtue join. 
 
 It makes a hero like an angel shine. 
 
242 POEMS OF 
 
 PRIDE.i 
 
 Not the brave Macedonian youth alone, 
 
 But base Caligula, when on the throne, 
 
 Boundless in power, would make himself a god, 
 
 As if the world depended on his nod. 
 
 The Syrian King to beasts was headlong thrown, 5 
 
 Ere to himself he could be mortal known. 
 
 The meanest wretch, if Heaven should give him line. 
 
 Would never stop till he were thought divine. 
 
 All might within discern the serpent's pride, 
 
 If from ourselves nothing ourselves did hide. lo 
 
 Let the proud peacock his gay feathers spread, 
 
 And woo the female to his painted bed ; 
 
 Let winds and seas together rage and swell ; 
 
 This Nature teaches, and becomes them well. 
 
 "Pride was not made for men :'' a conscious sense 15 
 
 Of guilt, and folly, and their consequence, 
 
 Destroys the claim, and to beholders tells. 
 
 Here nothing but the shape of manhood dwells. 
 
 EPITAPH ON THE LADY SEDLEY. 
 
 Here lies the learned Savil's heir ; 
 
 So early wise, and lasting fair. 
 
 That none, except her years they told. 
 
 Thought her a child, or thought her old. 
 
 All that her father knew or got, S 
 
 I- — Tonson, Reflection on these words — Pride was not made 
 for man. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 243 
 
 His art, his wealth, fell to her lot ; 
 
 And she so well improved that stock, 
 
 Both of his knowledge and his flock, 
 
 That wit and fortune, reconciled 
 
 In her, upon each other smiled. 10 
 
 While she, to every well-taught mind. 
 
 Was so propitiously inclined. 
 
 And gave such title to her store, 
 
 That none, but the ignorant, were poor. 
 
 The Muses daily found supplies, 15 
 
 Both from her hands and from her eyes. 
 
 Her bounty did at once engage. 
 
 And matchless beauty warm, their rage. 
 
 Such was this dame in calmer days. 
 
 Her nation's ornament and praise ! 20 
 
 But when a storm disturbed our rest, 
 
 The port and refuge of the oppressed. 
 
 This made her fortune understood, 
 
 And looked on as some public good. 
 
 So that (her person and her state, 25 
 
 Exempted from the common fate) 
 
 In all our civil fury she 
 
 Stood, like a sacred temple, free. 
 
 May here her monument stand so. 
 
 To credit this rude age ! and show 30 
 
 To future times, that even we 
 
 Some patterns did of virtue see ; 
 
 And one sublime example had 
 
 Of good, among so many bad. 
 
244 POEMS OF 
 
 EPITAPH UNFINISHED. 
 Great soul ! for whom Death will no longer stay, 
 But sends in haste to snatch our bliss away. 
 O cruel Death 1 to those you take more kind, 
 Than to the wretched mortals left behind ! 
 Here beauty, youth, and noble virtue shined, 5 
 
 Free from the clouds of pride that shade the mind. 
 Inspired verse may on this marble live, 
 But can no honour to thy ashes give 
 
 UPON A LADY'S FISHING WITH AN 
 ANGLE. 
 See where the fair Clorinda sits, and seems 
 Like new-born Venus risen from the streams ; 
 In vain the beauties of the neighbouring field, 
 In vain the painted flowers' pride 
 With their faint colours strive to hide 5 
 
 That flower to which Flora herself would yield. 
 Each object's pleasant to the sight. 
 The streams, the meadows yield delight, 
 But nothing fair as her you can espy 
 Unless i' th' brook (her looking-glass) you chance to 
 cast your eye. lo 
 
 See how she makes the trembling angle shake, 
 Touched by those hands that would make all men 
 
 quake. 
 See how the numerous fishes of the brook 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 245 
 
 (For now the armour of their scales 
 
 Nothing against her charms prevails) I J 
 
 Willingly hang themselves upon her hook ; 
 
 See how they crowd and thronging wait 
 
 Greedy to catch the proffered bait ; 
 In her more bright and smoother hands content 
 Rather to die, than live in their own watery element. 20 
 
 With how composed a look and cheerful air, 
 (Calm as the stream and as the season fair) 
 With careful eyes she views the dancing float. 
 
 Longing to have it disappear, 
 
 That she its head may higher rear, 25 
 
 And make it swim i' th' air above the moat ; 
 
 She sits as silent as the fish. 
 
 Seems burdened with no other wish. 
 So well she's masked under this fair pretence. 
 An infidel would swear she's made of perfect inno- 
 cence. 30 
 
 But ah ! Clorinda's is a cruel game. 
 
 As she with water sports, she sports with flame, 
 
 She innocently angles here, but then 
 
 Thousands of charming baits she lays, 
 
 A thousand other several ways ; 35 
 
 Her beauteous eyes ensnare whole shoals of men. 
 
 Each golden hair's a fishing line, 
 
 Able to catch such hearts as mine, 
 And he that once views her bewitching eyes, 
 To her victorious charms (like me) must ever be a 
 prize. 40 
 
246 POEMS OF 
 
 ON MRS. HIGGONS. 
 
 Ingenious Higgons never sought 
 
 To hide the candour of her thought ; 
 
 And now her clothes are lost, we find 
 
 The nymph as naked as her mind : 
 
 Like Eve while yet she was untaught 
 
 To hide herself or know a fault. 
 
 For a snatched ribbon she would frown, 
 
 But cares too little for her gown ; 
 
 It makes her laugh, and all her grief 
 
 Is lest it should undo the thief. 
 
 Already she begins to stretch 
 
 Her wit, to save the guilty wretch. 
 
 And says she was of goods bereft 
 
 By her own bounty, not by theft. 
 
 She thought not fit to keep her clothes 
 
 Till they were eaten up with moths. 
 
 But made a nobler use of store. 
 
 To clothe the naked and the poor. 
 
 Should all that do approve the fair 
 
 Her loss contribute to repair. 
 
 Of London she would have the fate. 
 
 And rise (undone) in greater state, 
 
 In points, and hoods, and Indian gown. 
 
 As glorious as the new-built tovra. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 247 
 
 DIVINE POEMS. 
 
 OF DIVINE LOVE. 
 
 SIX CANTOS. 
 
 I. Asserting the authority of the Scripture, in which this love 
 is revealed.^II, The preference and love of God to man in the 
 creation. — III. The same love more amply declared in our 
 redemption. — IV. How necessary this love is to reform man- 
 kind, and how excellent in itself. — V. Showing how happy the 
 world would be, if this love were universally embraced. — VI. 
 Of preserving this love in our memory, and how useful the con- 
 templation thereof is. 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 The Grecian muse has all their gods survived, 
 
 Nor Jove at us, nor Phcebus is arrived ; 
 
 Frail deities ! which first the poets made, 
 
 And then invoked, to give their fancies aid. 
 
 Yet if they still divert us with their rage, 5 
 
 What may be hoped for in a better age, 
 
 When not from HeUcon's imagined spring, 
 
 But Sacred Writ, we borrow what we sing ? 
 
 This with the fabric of the world begun, 
 
 Elder than light, and shall outlast the sun. 10 
 
248 POEMS OP 
 
 Before this oracle, like Dagon, all 
 The false pretenders, Delphos, Ammon, fall ; 
 Long since despised and silent, they afford 
 I lonour and triumph to the eternal Word. 
 
 As late philosophy our globe has graced, 1 5 
 
 And rolling earth among the planets placed. 
 So has this Book entitled us to heaven, 
 And rules to guide us to that mansion given ; 
 Tells the conditions how our peace was made. 
 And is our pledge for the great Author's aid. 20 
 
 His power in Nature's ample book we find. 
 But the less volume does express His mind. 
 
 This light unknown, bold Epicurus taught 
 That his blessed gods vouchsafe us not a thought. 
 But unconcerned let all below them slide, 25 
 
 As fortune does, or human wisdom, guide. 
 Religion thus removed, the sacred yoke, 
 And band of all society, is broke. 
 What use of oaths, of promise, or of test, 
 Where men regard no God but interest ? 30 
 
 What endless war would jealous nations tear, 
 If none above did witness what they swear ? 
 Sad fate of unbelievers, and yet just, 
 Among themselves to find so little trust ! 
 Were Scripture silent. Nature would proclaim, 35 
 Without a God, our falsehood and our shame. 
 To know our thoughts the object of his eyes. 
 Is the first step towards being good or wise ; 
 For though with judgment we on things reflect, 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 249 
 
 Our will determines, not our intellect. 40 
 
 Slaves to their passion, reason men employ 
 
 Only to compass what they would enjoy. 
 
 His fear to guard us from ourselves we need, 
 
 And Sacred Writ our reason does exceed ; 
 
 For though heaven shows the glory of the Lord, 45 
 
 Yet something shines more glorious in his Word ; 
 
 His mercy this (which all his work excels !) 
 
 His tender kindness and compassion tells ; 
 
 While we, informed by that celestial Book, 
 
 Into the bowels of our Maker look. 50 
 
 Love there revealed (which never shall have end, 
 
 Nor had beginning) shall our song commend ; 
 
 Describe itself, and warm us with that flame 
 
 Which first from heaven, to make us happy, came. 
 
 The fear of hell, or aiming to be blessed. 
 
 Savours too much of private interest. 
 
 This moved not Moses, nor the zealous Paul, 
 
 Who for their friends abandoned soul and all ; 
 
 A greater yet from heaven to hell descends, 5 
 
 To save, and make his enemies his friends. 
 
 MTiat line of praise can fathom such a love. 
 
 Which reached the lowest bottom from above ? 
 
 The royal prophet, that extended grace 
 
 From heaven to earth, measured but half that space. 
 
 The law was regnant, and confined his thought ; [10 
 
250 POEMS OF 
 
 Hell was not conquered when that poet wrote ; 
 Heaven was scarce heard of until he came down, 
 To make the region where love triumphs known. 
 
 That early love of creatures yet unmade, 15 
 
 To frame the world the Almighty did persuade ; 
 For love it was that first created light. 
 Moved on the waters, chased away the night 
 From the rude Chaos, and bestowed new grace 
 On things disposed of to their proper place ; 20 
 
 Some to rest here, and some to shine above ; 
 Earth, sea, and heaven, were all the effects of love. 
 And love would be returned ; but there was none 
 That to themselves or others yet were known ; 
 The world a palace was without a guest, 25 
 
 Till one appears that must excel the rest ; 
 One ! like the Author, whose capacious mind 
 Might, by the glorious work, the Maker find ; 
 Might measure heaven, and give each star a name ; 
 With art and courage the rough ocean tame ; 30 
 
 Over the globe with swelling sails might go. 
 And that 'tis round by his experience know ; 
 Make strongest beasts obedient to his will, 
 And serve his use the fertile earth to till. 
 When, by his Word, God had accomplished all, 35 
 Man to create he did a council call ; 
 Employed his hand, to give the dust he took 
 A graceful figure, and majestic look ; 
 With his own breath conveyed into his breast 
 Life, and a soul fit to command the rest ; 40 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 251 
 
 Worthy alone to celebrate his name 
 
 For such a gift, and tell from whence it came. 
 
 Birds sing his praises in a wilder note, 
 
 But not with lasting numbers and with thought, 
 
 Man's great prerogative ! but above all 45 
 
 His grace abounds in his new favourite's fall. 
 
 If he create, it is a world he makes ; 
 If he be angry, the creation shakes ; 
 From his just wrath our guilty parents fled ; 
 He cursed the earth, but bruised the serpent's head. 
 Amidst the storm his bounty did exceed, [50 
 
 In the rich promise of the Virgin's seed ; 
 Though justice death, as satisfaction, craves. 
 Love finds a way to pluck us from our graves. 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 Not willing terror should his image move ; 
 
 He gives a pattern of eternal love ; 
 
 His Son descends to treat a peace vrith those 
 
 Which were, and must have ever been, his foes. 
 
 Poor he became, and left his glorious seat 5 
 
 To make us humble, and to make us great ; 
 
 His business here was happiness to give 
 
 To those whose malice could not let him live. 
 
 Legions of angels, which he might have used, 
 (For us resolved to perish) he refused ; 10 
 
 While they stood ready to prevent his loss. 
 Love took him up, and nailed him to the cross. 
 
252 POEMS OF 
 
 Immortal love I which in his bowels reigned, 
 
 That we might be by such a love constrained 
 
 To make return of love. Upon this pole 15 
 
 Our duty does, and our religion, roll. 
 
 To love is to believe, to hope, to know ; 
 
 'Tis an essay, a taste of heaven below ! 
 
 He to proud potentates would not be known ; 
 Of those that loved him he was hid from none. 20 
 Till love appear we live in anxious doubt ; 
 But smoke will vanish when that flame breaks out ; 
 This is the fire that would consume our dross, 
 Refine, and make us richer by the loss. 
 
 Could we forbear dispute, and practise love, 25 
 We should agree as angels do above. 
 AATiere love presides, not vice alone does find 
 No entrance there, but virtues stay behind ; 
 Both faith, and hope, and all the meaner train 
 Of moral virtues, at the door remain. 30 
 
 Love only enters as a native there. 
 For, born in heaven, it does but sojourn here. 
 
 He that alone would wise and mighty be, 
 Commands that others love as well as he. 
 Love as he loved !— How can we soar so high ? — 35 
 He can add wings, when he commands to fly. 
 Nor should we be with this command dismayed ; 
 He that examples gives, will give his aid ; 
 For he took flesh, that where his precepts fail, 
 His practice, as a pattern, may prevail. 40 
 
 His love, at once, and dread, instruct our thought ; 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 253 
 
 As man he suffered, and as God he taught. 
 
 Will for the deed he takes ; we may with ease 
 
 Obedient be, for if we love we please. 
 
 Weak though we are, to love is no hard task, 45 
 
 And love for love is all that Heaven does ask. 
 
 Love ! that would all men just and temperate make, 
 
 Kind to themselves, and others, for his sake. 
 
 'Tis with our minds as with a fertile ground. 
 Wanting this love they must with weeds abound, 50 
 (Unruly passions) whose effects are worse 
 Than thorns and thistles springing from the curse. 
 
 CANTO IV. 
 
 To glory man, or misery, is born. 
 
 Of his proud foe the envy, or the scorn ; 
 
 Wretched he is, or happy, in extreme ; 
 
 Base in himself, but great in Heaven's esteem ; 
 
 With love, of all created things the best ; 5 
 
 Without it, more pernicious than the rest ; 
 
 For greedy wolves unguarded sheep devour 
 
 But while their hunger lasts, and then give o'er ; 
 
 Man's boundless avarice his want exceeds. 
 
 And on his neighbours round about him feeds. 10 
 
 His pride and vain ambition are so vast, 
 That, deluge-like, they lay whole nations waste. 
 Debauches and excess (though with less noise) 
 As great a portion of mankind destroys. 
 The beasts and monsters Hercules oppressed 15 
 
254 POEMS OF 
 
 Might in that age some provinces infest ; 
 
 These more destructive monsters are the bane 
 
 Of every age, and in all nations reign ; 
 
 But soon would vanish, if the world were blessed 
 
 With sacred love, by which they are repressed. 20 
 
 Impendent death, and guilt that threatens hell, 
 Are dreadful guests, which here with mortals 
 
 dwell ; 
 And a vexed conscience, mingling with their joy 
 Thoughts of despair, does their whole life annoy ; 
 But love appearing, all those terrors fly ; 25 
 
 We live contented, and contented die. 
 They in whose breast this sacred love has place, 
 Death, as a passage to their joy, embrace. 
 Clouds and thick vapours, which obscure the day, 
 The sun's victorious beams may chase away ; 30 
 
 Those which our life corrupt and darken, love 
 (The nobler star !) must from the soul remove. 
 Spots are observed in that which bounds the year ; 
 This brighter sun moves in a boundless sphere ; 
 Of heaven the joy, the glory, and the light, 35 
 
 Shines among angels, and admits no night. 
 
 This Iron Age (so fraudulent and bold !) 
 Touched with this love, would be an Age of Gold ; 
 Not, as they feigned, that oaks should honey drop. 
 Or land neglected bear an unsown crop ; 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 255 
 
 Love would make all things easy, safe, and cheap ; 5 
 None for himself would either sow or reap ; 
 Our ready help, and mutual love, would yield 
 A nobler harvest than the richest field. 
 Famine and death, confined to certain parts, 
 Extended are by barrenness of hearts. 10 
 
 Some pine for want where others surfeit now ; 
 But then we should the use of plenty know. 
 Love would betwixt the rich and needy stand, 
 And spread Heaven's bounty with an equal hand ; 
 At once the givers and receivers bless, i S 
 
 Increase their joy, and make their suffering less. 
 Who for himself no miracle would make. 
 Dispensed with Nature for the people's sake ; 
 He that, long fasting, would no wonder show. 
 Made loaves and fishes, as they ate them, grow, 20 
 Of all his power, which boundless was above, 
 Here he used none but to express his love ; 
 And such a love would make our joy exceed, 
 Not when our own, but other mouths we feed. 
 
 Laws would be useless which rude nature awe ; 25 
 Love, changing nature, would prevent the law ; 
 Tigers and lions into dens we thrust. 
 But milder creatures with their freedom trust. 
 Devils are chained, and tremble ; but the Spouse 
 No force but love, nor bond but bounty, knows. 30 
 Men (whom we now so fierce and dangerous see) 
 Would guardian angels to each other be ; 
 Such wonders can this mighty love perform, 
 
2S6 POEMS OF 
 
 Vultures to doves, wolves into lambs transform ! 
 
 Love what Isaiah prophesied can do, 35 
 
 Exalt the valleys, lay the mountains low. 
 
 Humble the lofty, the dejected raise. 
 
 Smooth and make straight our rough and crooked 
 
 ways. 
 Love, strong as death, and like it, levels all ; 
 With that possessed, the great in title fall ; 40 
 
 Themselves esteem but equal to the least, 
 Whom Heaven vrith that high character has blessed. 
 This love, the centre of our union, can 
 Alone bestow complete repose on man ; 
 Tame his wild appetite, make inward peace, 45 
 
 And foreign strife among the nations cease. 
 No martial trumpet should disturb our rest. 
 Nor princes arm, though to subdue the East ; 
 Where for the tomb so many heroes (taught 
 By those that guided their devotion) fought. 50 
 
 Thrice happy we, could we like ardour have 
 To gain his love, as they to win his grave ! 
 Love as he loved ! A love so unconfined, 
 With arms extended, would embrace mankind. 
 Self-love would cease, or be dilated, when 55 
 
 We should behold as many selfs as men ; 
 All of one family, in blood allied. 
 His precious blood, that for our ransom died. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 257 
 
 CANTO VI. 
 
 Though the creation (so divinely taught !) 
 
 Prints such a lively image in our thought, 
 
 That the first spark of nevir-created light, 
 
 From Chaos struck, affects our present sight ; 
 
 Yet the first Christians did esteem more blessed 5 
 
 The day of rising, than the day of rest. 
 
 That every week might new occasion give. 
 
 To make his triumph in their memory live. 
 
 Then let our Muse compose a sacred charm, 
 
 To keep his blood among us ever warm, i o 
 
 And singing as the blessed do above, 
 
 With our last breath dilate this flame of love. 
 
 But on so vast a subject who can find 
 
 Words that may reach the ideas of his mind ? 
 
 Our language fails; or, if it could supply, 15 
 
 What mortal thought can raise itself so high ? 
 
 Despairing here, we might abandon art. 
 
 And only hope to have it in our heart. 
 
 But though we find this sacred task too hard. 
 
 Yet the design, the endeavour, brings reward. 20 
 
 The contemplation does suspend our woe. 
 
 And makes a truce with all the ills we know. 
 
 As Saul's afflicted spirit, from the sound 
 
 Of David's harp, a present solace found ; 
 
 So on this theme while we our Muse engage, 25 
 
 No wounds are felt, of fortune or of age. 
 
 On divine love to meditate is peace. 
 
258 POEMS OF 
 
 And makes all care of meaner things to cease. 
 
 Amazed at once, and comforted, to find 
 A boundless power so infinitely kind, 30 
 
 The soul contending to that light to flee 
 From her dark cell, we practise how to die ; 
 Employing thus the poet's winged art, 
 To reach this love, and grave it in our heart. 
 Joy so complete, so solid, and severe, 35 
 
 Would leave no place for meaner pleasures there ; 
 Pale they would look, as stars that must be gone. 
 When from the East the rising sun comes on. 
 
 Floriferis ut Apes in saltibus omnia libant, 
 Sic nos Scripturx depascimur aurea dicta ; 
 Aurea perpetua semper digDlssima vit4. 
 Nam Divinus Amor, cum coepit vociferari, 
 Dififugiunt Animi terrores. — LucR. 
 
 £xul eram, requiesque mihi, non Fama petita est. 
 Mens intenta suis ne foret usque malis. 
 Namque ubi mota calent Sacra mea Pectora Musa, 
 Altior humane Spiritus iUe male est. — De Trist. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 259 
 
 OF DIVINE POESY. 
 
 TWO CANTOS. 
 
 Occasioned u^on sight qfiitess^d chapter of Isaiah turned into 
 verse by Mrs. Wharton. 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 Poets we prize, when in their verse we find 
 Some great employment of a worthy mind. 
 Angels have been inquisitive to know 
 The secret which this oracle does show. 
 What was to come, Isaiah did declare, 5 
 
 Which she describes as if she had been there ; 
 Had seen the wounds, which, to the reader's view, 
 She draws so lively that they bleed anew. 
 As ivy thrives which on the oak takes hold. 
 So with the prophet's may her lines grow old ! 10 
 
 If they should die, who can the world forgive, 
 (Such pious lines !) when wanton Sappho's live ? 
 Who with his breath his image did inspire, 
 Expects it should foment a nobler fire ; 
 Not love which brutes as well as men may know, 1 5 
 But love like his, to whom that breath we owe. 
 Verse so designed, on that high subject wrote, 
 Is the perfection of an ardent thought ; 
 The smoke which we from burning incense raise. 
 When we complete the sacrifice of praise. 20 
 
 In boundless verse the fancy soars too high 
 For any object but the Deity, 
 What mortal can with Heaven pretend to share 
 
 s 2 
 
26o POEMS OF 
 
 In the superlatives of wise and fair? 
 
 A meaner subject when with these we grace, 25 
 
 A giant's habit on a dwarf we place. 
 
 Sacred should be the product of our Muse, 
 
 Like that sweet oil, above all private use. 
 
 On pain of death forbidden to be made. 
 
 But when it should be on the altar laid. 30 
 
 Verse shows a rich inestimable vein. 
 
 When, dropped from heaven, 'tis thither sent again. 
 
 Of bounty 'tis that he admits our praise. 
 Which does not him, but us that yield it, raise ; 
 For as that angel up to heaven did rise, 35 
 
 Borne on the flame of Manoah's sacrifice, 
 So, winged with praise, we penetrate the sky ; 
 Teach clouds and stars to praise him as we fly ; 
 The whole creation, (by our fall made groan !) 
 His praise to echo, and suspend their moan. 40 
 
 For that he reigns, all creatures should rejoice, 
 And we with songs supply their want of voice. 
 The church triumphant, and the church below, 
 In songs of praise their' present union show ; 
 Their joys are full ; our expectation long ; 45 
 
 In life we differ, but we join in song. 
 Angels and we, assisted by this art. 
 May sing together, though we dwell apart. 
 Thus we reach heaven, while vainer poems must 
 No higher rise than winds may lift the dust. 50 
 
 X. — Divine Foems, X685, un. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 261 
 
 From that they spring ; this from his breath that 
 
 gave, 
 To the first dust, the immortal soul we have ; 
 His praise well sung, (our great endeavour here) 
 Shakes oflf the dust, and makes that breath appear. 
 
 He that did first this way of writing grace, 
 Conversed with the Almighty face to face ; 
 Wonders he did in sacred verse unfold, 
 When he had more than eighty winters told. 
 The writer feels no dire effect of age. 
 Nor verse, that flows from so divine a rage. 
 Eldest of Poets, he beheld the light. 
 When first it triumphed o'er eternal night ; 
 Chaos he saw, and could distinctly tell 
 How that confusion into order fell. 
 As if consulted with, he has expressed 
 The work of the Creator, and his rest ; 
 How the flood drowned the first offending race, 
 Which might the figure of our globe deface. 
 For new-made earth, so even and so fair, 
 Less equal now, uncertain makes the air ; 
 Surprised with heat and unexpected cold. 
 Early distempers make our youth look old ; 
 Our days so evil, and so few, may tell 
 That on the ruins of that world we dwell. 
 Strong as the oaks that nourished them, and 
 high. 
 
262 POEMS OF 
 
 That long-lived race did on their force rely, 
 
 Neglecting Heaven ; but we, of shorter date ! 
 
 Should be more mindful of impendent fate. 
 
 To worms, that crawl upon this rubbish here, 25 
 
 This span of life may yet too long appear ; 
 
 Enough to humble, and to make us great. 
 
 If it prepare us for a nobler seat. 
 
 Which well observing, he, in numerous lines, 
 
 Taught wretched man how fast his life declines ; 30 
 
 In whom he dwelt before the world was made. 
 
 And may again retire when that shall fade. 
 
 The lasting Iliads have not lived so long 
 
 As his and Deborah's triumphant song. 
 
 Delphos unknown, no Muse could them inspire, 35 
 
 But that which governs the celestial choir. 
 
 Heaven to the pious did this art reveal, 
 
 And from their store succeeding poets steal. 
 
 Homer's Scamander for the Trojans fought, 
 
 And swelled so high, by her old Kishon taught. 40 
 
 His river scarce could fierce Achilles stay ; 
 
 Hers, more successful, swept her foes away. 
 
 The host of Heaven, his Phoebus and his Mars, 
 
 He arms, instructed by her fighting stars. 
 
 She led them all against the common foe ; 45 
 
 But he (misled by what he saw below !) 
 
 The powers above, like wretched men, divides. 
 
 And breaks their union into different sides. 
 
 The noblest parts which in his heroes shine, 
 
 May be but copies of that heroine. 50 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 263 
 
 Homer himself, and Agamemnon, she 
 The writer could, and the commander, be. 
 Truth she relates in a sublimer strain. 
 Than all the tales the boldest Greeks could feign ; 
 For what she sung that Spirit did indite, 55 
 
 Which gave her courage, and success, in fight. 
 A double garland crowns the matchless dame ; 
 From Heaven her poem, and her conquest, came. 
 
 Though of the Jews she merit most esteem, 
 Yet here the Christian has the greater theme ; 60 
 Her martial song describes how Sisera fell ; 
 This sings our triumph over death and hell. 
 The rising light employed the sacred breath 
 Of the blest Virgin and Elizabeth. 
 In songs of joy the angels sung his birth ; 65 
 
 Here how he treated was upon the earth 
 Trembling we read ! the affliction and the scorn. 
 Which for our guilt so patiently was borne ! 
 Conception, birth, and suffering, all belong 
 (Though various parts) to one celestial song ; 70 
 
 And she, well using so divine an art, 
 Has in this concert sung the tragic part. 
 
 As Hannah's seed was vowed to sacred use, 
 So here this lady consecrates her Muse. 
 With like reward may Heaven her bed adorn, 75 
 
 With fruit as fair as by her Muse is born ! 
 
264 POEMS OF 
 
 OF THE PARAPHRASE ON THE LORD'S 
 PRAYER, 
 
 WRITTEN BY MRS. WHARTON. 
 
 Silence, you winds ! listen, ethereal lights ! 
 
 While our Urania sings what Heaven indites ; 
 
 The numbers are the nymph's ; but from above 
 
 Descends the pledge of that eternal love. 
 
 Here wretched mortals have not leave alone, 5 
 
 But are instructed, to approach his throne ; 
 
 And how can he to miserable men 
 
 Deny requests which his own hand did pen ? 
 
 In the Evangelists we find the prose 
 Which, paraphrased by her, a poem grows ; 10 
 
 A devout rapture ! so divine a hymn. 
 It may become the highest seraphim ! 
 For they, like her, in that celestial choir. 
 Sing only what the Spirit does inspire.' 
 Taught by our Lord, and theirs, with us they may 15 
 For all but pardon for offences pray. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 265 
 
 SOME REFLECTIONS OF HIS UPON THE 
 SEVERAL PETITIONS IN THE SAME 
 PRAYER. 
 
 I. 
 His sacred name with reverence profound 
 Should mentioned be, and trembling at the sound 
 It was Jehovah ; 'tis Our Father now ; 
 So low to us does Heaven vouchsafe to bow ! Ps. xviii. 9. 
 He brought it down, that taught us how to pray ; 5 
 And did so dearly for our ransom pay.-' 
 
 2. 
 
 His kingdom come. For this we pray in vain. 
 
 Unless he does in our affections reign. 
 
 Absurd it were to wish for such a King, 
 
 And not obedience to his sceptre bring, 10 
 
 Whose yoke is easy, and his burthen light, 
 
 His service freedom, and his judgments right.^ 
 
 3- 
 His will be done. In fact 'tis always done ; 
 But, as in Heaven, it must be made our own. 
 His will should all our inclinations sway, 15 
 
 Whom Nature, and the universe, obey 
 
 1. — 1685, Brethren to him that tait^ht us hoiv to pray, 
 
 And did so dear y for our RaiisoTn pay. 
 2. — This couplet does not occur in the edition of 1685. 
 
266 POEMS OF 
 
 Happy the man ! whose wishes are confined 
 To what has been eternally designed ; 
 Referring all to his paternal care, 
 To whom more dear than to ourselves we are.^ 
 
 It is not what our avarice hoards up ; 
 
 'Tis he that feeds us, and that fills our cup ; 
 
 Like new-born babes depending on the breast. 
 
 From day to day we on his bounty feast ; 
 
 Nor should the soul expect above a day 25 
 
 To dwell in her frail tenement of clay ; 
 
 The setting sun should seem to bound our race, 
 
 And the new day a gift of special grace. 
 
 S- 
 That he should all our trespasses for^ve. 
 While we in hatred with our neighbours live ; 30 
 
 Though so to pray may seem an easy task. 
 We curse ourselves when thus inclined we ask. 
 This prayer to use, we ought with equal care 
 Our souls, as to the sacrament prepare. 
 The noblest worship of the Power above, 35 
 
 Is to extol, and imitate his love ; 
 Not to forgive our enemies alone. 
 But use our bounty that they may be won. 
 
 I. — This and three preceding lines are not in the edition of 
 1685. 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 267 
 
 Guard us from all temptations of the foe. 
 
 And those we may in several stations know ; 40 
 
 The rich and poor in slippery places stand. 
 
 Give us enough ! but with a sparing hand ! 
 
 Not ill-persuading want, nor wanton wealth, 
 
 But what proportioned is to life and health. 
 
 For not the dead, but living, sing thy praise, 45 
 
 Exalt thy kingdom, and thy glory raise. 
 
 Favete Unguis ! 
 
 Virginibus puerisque canto. — Horat. 
 
 ON THE FEAR OF GOD. 
 
 IN TWO CANTOS. 
 
 The fear of God is freedom, joy, and peace. 
 And makes all ills that vex us here to cease. 
 Though the word fear some men may ill endure, 
 'Tis such a fear as only makes secure. 
 Ask of no angel to reveal thy fate ; 
 Look in thy heart, the mirror of thy state. 
 He that invites will not the invited mock. 
 Opening to all that do in earnest knock. 
 Our hopes are all well-grounded on this fear 
 All our assurance rolls upon that sphere. 
 
268 POEMS OP 
 
 This fear, that drives all other fears away, 
 
 Shall be my song, the morning of our day ! 
 
 Where that fear is, there's nothing to be feared ; 
 
 It brings from Heaven an angel for our guard. 
 
 Tranquillity and peace this fear does give ; IS 
 
 Hell gapes for those that do without it live. 
 
 It is a beam, which he on man lets fall, 
 
 Of light, by which he made and governs all. 
 
 'Tis God alone should not oSended be ; 
 
 But we please others, as more great than he. 20 
 
 For a good cause, the sufferings of man 
 
 May well be borne ; 'tis more than angels can. 
 
 Man, since his fall, in no mean station rests, 
 
 Equal to angels, or below the beasts. 
 
 He with true joy their hearts alone does fill, 25 
 
 That thirst and hunger to perform his will. 
 
 Others, though rich, shall in this world be vexed. 
 
 And sadly live in terror of the next. 
 
 The world's great conqueror would his point pursue. 
 
 And wept because he could not find a new ; 30 
 
 Which had he done, yet still he would have cried. 
 
 To make him work until a third he spied. 
 
 Ambition, avarice, will nothing owe 
 
 To Heaven itself, unless it make them grow. 
 
 Though richly fed, man's care does still exceed ; 35 
 
 Has but one mouth, but would a thousand feed. 
 
 In wealth and honour, by such men possessed. 
 
 If it increase not, there is found no rest. 
 
 All their delight is while their wish comes in ; 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 269 
 
 Sad when it stops, as there had nothing been. 40 
 
 'Tis strange men should neglect their present store, 
 
 And take no joy but in pursuing more ; 
 
 No ! though arrived at all the world can aim ; 
 
 This is the mark and glory of our frame. 
 
 A soul capacious of the Deity, 45 
 
 Nothing but he that made can satisfy. 
 
 A thousand worlds, if we with him compare 
 
 Less than so many drops of water are. 
 
 Men take no pleasure but in new designs ; 
 
 And what they hope for, what they have outshines. 50 
 
 Our sheep and oxen seem no more to crave, 
 
 With full content feeding on what they have ; 
 
 Vex not themselves for an increase of store, 
 
 But think to-morrow we shall give them more. 
 
 What we from day to day receive from Heaven, 55 
 
 They do from us expect it should be given. 
 
 We made them not, yet they on us rely. 
 
 More than vain men upon the Deity ; 
 
 More beasts than they ! who will not understand 
 
 That we are fed from his immediate hand. 60 
 
 Man, that in him has being, moves, and lives, 
 
 What can he have, or use, but what he gives? 
 
 So that no bread can nourishment afford, 
 
 Or useful be, without his Sacred Word. 
 
270 POEMS OF 
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 Earth praises conquerors for shedding blood, 
 
 Heaven those that love their foes, and do them good. 
 
 It is terrestrial honour to be crowned 
 
 For strowing men, like rushes, on the ground. 
 
 True glory 'tis to rise above them all, 5 
 
 Without advantage taken by their fall. 
 
 He that in fight diminishes mankind. 
 
 Does no addition to his stature find ; 
 
 But he that does a noble nature show. 
 
 Obliging others, still does higher grow ; 10 
 
 For virtue practised, such a habit gives. 
 
 That among men he like an angel Uves ; 
 
 Humbly he doth, and without envy, dwell. 
 
 Loved and admired by those he does excel. 
 
 Fools anger show, which politicians hide ; 1 5 
 
 Blessed with this fear, men let it not abide. 
 
 The humble man, when he receives a wrong. 
 
 Refers revenge to whom it dolh belong ; 
 
 Nor sees he reason why he should engage, 
 
 Or vex his spirit for another's rage. 20 
 
 Placed on a rock, vain men he pities, tossed 
 
 On raging waves, and in the tempest lost. 
 
 The rolling planets, and the glorious sun. 
 
 Still keep that order which they first begim ; 
 
 They their first lesson constantly repeat, 25 
 
 Which their Creator as a law did set. 
 
 Above, below, exactly all obey ; 
 
EDMUND WALLER. 271 
 
 But wretched men have found another way ; 
 
 Knowledge of good and evil, as at first, 
 
 (That vain persuasion !) keeps them still accursed ! 30 
 
 The Sacred Word refusing as a guide, 
 
 Slaves they become to luxury and pride. 
 
 As clocks, remaining in the skilful hand 
 
 Of some great master, at the figure stand, 
 
 But when abroad, neglected they do go, 35 
 
 At random strike, and the false hour show ; 
 
 So from our Maker wandering, we stray, 
 
 Like birds that know not to their nests the way. 
 
 In hira we dwelt before our exile here, 
 
 And may, returning, find contentment there, 40 
 
 True joy may find, perfection of delight, 
 
 Behold his face, and shun eternal night. 
 
 Silence, my Muse ! make not these jewels cheap, 
 Exposing to the world too large a heap. 
 Of all we read, the Sacred Writ is best, 45 
 
 Where great truths are in fewest words expressed. 
 
 Wrestling with death, these lines I did indite ; 
 No other theme could give my soul delight. 
 O that my youth had thus employed my pen ! 
 Or that I now could write as well as then ! 50 
 
 But 'tis of grace, if sickness, age, and pain, 
 Are felt as throes, when we are born again ; 
 Timely they come to wean us from this earth, 
 As pangs that wait upon a second birth. 
 
272 POEMS OF EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 OF THE LAST VERSES IN THE BOOK. 
 
 When we for age could neither read nor write, 
 
 The subject made us able to indite ; 
 
 The soul, with nobler resolutions decked, 
 
 The body stooping, does herself erect. 
 
 No mortal parts are requisite lo raise 5 
 
 Her that, unbodied, can her Maker praise. 
 
 The seas are quiet when the winds give o'er ; 
 So, calm are we when passions are no more ! 
 For then we know how vain it was to boast 
 Of fleeting things, so certain to be lost. 10 
 
 Clouds of affection from our younger eyes 
 Conceal that emptiness which age descries. 
 
 The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed, 
 Lets in new light through chinks that time has made ; 
 Stronger by weakness, wiser men become, 15 
 
 As they draw near to their eternal home. 
 Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view. 
 That stand upon the threshold of the new. 
 
 .... Miratur limen Olympi. — Vibg. 
 
NOTES. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 TO THE QUEENE, &C. 
 This dedication to Henrietta Maria is here printed 
 for the first time, exactly as it stands in a small folio 
 volume, the property of Edmund Waller, Esquire, 
 of Farmington Lodge, Northleach, which contains a 
 transcript, corrected in another hand, of most of the 
 poems which appeared in the editions of 1645 — 
 neither the transcript nor the corrections are in the 
 handwriting of the poet, and the book came into Mr. 
 Waller's possession by purchase. 
 
 TO MY LADY SOPHIA. 
 This address is headed as above in Mr. Waller's 
 transcript, with a note by the corrector which informs 
 us that the lady was Lady Sophia Bertie, a 
 daughter of that Earl of Lindsey, who afterwards fell 
 in the King's service at Edgehill : she married Sir 
 Richard Chaworth, and died in 1689, aged 72. 
 the former Pope. 
 The transcript has the present Pope, which fixes its 
 date as earlier than that of any edition of the poems. 
 Maffeo Barberini, (Urban VIII.), the Pope alluded to, 
 having died July 29, 1644. 
 
 T 2 
 
276 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 AN ADVERTISEMENT TO THE READER, 
 
 There are three editions of Waller's poems dated 
 
 1645. 
 
 (i) The I Workes | of | Edmond Waller | 
 Esquire, | Lately a Member of the Ho | nourable 
 House of I Commons, | in this Present Parliament. | 
 London. | Printed for Thomas Walkley. | 1645. 
 Title— and B — H in eights. 
 
 Some copies of this edition have on the title-page 
 Imprimatur | Na. Brent. Decern. 30. 1644. 
 
 (ii) Poems, &c. | Written By | Mr. Ed. Waller | 
 of Beckonsfield, Esquire ; Lately a | Member of the 
 Honourable | House of Commons, | And Printed by 
 a Copy of I his own hand-writing. ) All the Lyrick 
 Poems in this Booke | were set by Mr. Henry Lawes, 
 Gent. I of the Kings Chappell and one of his Ma- | 
 jesties Private Musick. | Printed and Published 
 according to Order. | London, | Printed by L N. for 
 Hu. Mosley, at the Princes | Armes in Pauls Church- 
 yard, 1 1645. A (4 leaves) — N 4 in eights. O — P 2 
 in eights. 
 
 (iii) Poems, &c. 1 Written By | Mr. Ed. Waller 
 I of Beckonsfield, Esquire ; lately a | Member of the 
 Honourable | House of Commons, | All the Lyrick 
 Poems in this Booke | were set by Mr. Henry Lawes 
 Gent. I of the Kings Chappell, and one of his | 
 Majesties Private Musick, | Printed and Published 
 according to Order. | London, | Printed by T. W. 
 for Humphrey Mosley, at the | Princes Armes in 
 Pauls Church- | yard, 1645. B — 1 2 in eights. 
 It appears from a comparison of Mr. Hazlitt's coUa- 
 
NOTES. 277 
 
 tion of this edition with that of other copies which I 
 have seen, that the signatures vary, but the contents 
 are the same. 
 
 It has been customary to describe now one, 
 now another of these three as the genuine first 
 edition, but there is nothing to show that any 
 one of them had the countenance of the author, in 
 fact, in the edition of 1664 the contrary is distinctly 
 stated, and Waller had, almost certainly, left 
 England before Dec. 30, 1644, the date upon 
 which the earliest of them was licensed ; this 
 edition, (i), the text of which I have not thought it 
 necessary to collate, is full of misprints, and is 
 denounced in this advertisement which appears in 
 both (ii) and (iii) as " surruptitious," though, as a 
 matter of fact, (iii) consists simply of the sheets of 
 (i) bound up with a fresh title and the addition of 
 the last seven poems contained in (ii). The advertise- 
 ment was probably written by Mosley, who in a 
 somewhat similar address prefixed to his edition of 
 Milton's poems, of this year, congratulates himself on 
 the success which had attended his publication of 
 Waller. 
 
 THE PRINTER TO THE READER. 
 
 Fenton expresses a. belief that this preface was 
 either written by Waller, or by his immediate direction, 
 and was designed "for a modest memorial " prepara- 
 tory to his standing candidate for the Provostship of 
 Eton College. But it is improbable that the poet had 
 this special post, if indeed he had any at all, in view 
 at the date of the publication of this edition of his 
 
278 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 poems, as Dr. John Meredith, whom he was anxious 
 to succeed at Eton, did not die till the following 
 year. In Fenton's edition (1729) the signature 
 Albinovanus, the exact applicability of which to 
 Waller is not obvious, was for the first time appended 
 to this address. 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. Nma carmina pango. 
 
 I have been unable to trace these words — they do 
 not occur in Virgil : possibly the writer was thinking 
 of Eel. iii. 86. " Pollio et ipse facit nova carmina." 
 
 PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART OF MR. WALLER'S 
 POEMS. 
 
 In 1690 appeared " The Second Part of Mr. 
 Waller's Poems containing his alteration of the 
 Maid's Tragedy, And whatever of his is yet un- 
 printed : Together with some other Poems, Speeches, 
 &C., that were printed Severally and never put into the 
 First Collection of his Poems. London, Printed for 
 Tho. Bennet. MDCXC." 8°. There seems no 
 reason to doubt that this preface, which appeared in 
 this edition, was written, as has always been supposed, 
 by Francis Atterbury — a correspondent writing in 
 Notes and Queries [7th S. xi. p. 266] has been kind 
 enough to mention, for my benefit, a copy of " The 
 Maid's Tragedy Altered. With some other Pieces. 
 By Edmund Waller, Esq ; not before Printed in the 
 several Editions of his Poems. London, Printed for 
 Jacob Tonson. i6go," in which there is a MS. 
 addition, signed "Jacob Tonson, Senr.," to the note 
 
NOTES. 279 
 
 printed at the beginning of the book : the note run 
 thus — " Most of the following Pieces, being unfinisKd, 
 were never intended to be publish' d ; but that a Person, 
 ■who had borrowed a Manuscript Copy of them, took 
 upon him to print them." After the words " a Person" 
 Tonson has written " Dr. Atterljury borrow'd them of 
 Dr. Birch.*' Atterbury is further connected with 
 Bennet by the fact that on Aug. 30, 1706, he 
 preached his funeral sermon in St. Paul's, in which he 
 speaks of having known him for twenty years. 
 
 OF THE DANGER HIS MAJESTY ESCAPED IN THE 
 ROAD AT ST. ANDREWS. 
 The events which form the subject of this poem 
 occurred in September, 1623, upon the arrival of the 
 Prince at St. Andere (now Santander) on his return to 
 England from Madrid. He reached the coast on St. 
 Matthew's Day, attended by a train of Spanish noble- 
 men, and having dined in the neighbourhood of the 
 port, was in the afternoon informed of the arrival of 
 the English fleet under the command of the Earl of 
 Rutland. I quote what follows from a contemporary 
 pamphlet, "The Joyful! Returne Of TheMost Illustrious 
 Prince Charles, Prince of Great Britaine, from the 
 Court of Spaine. . . . 1623,'' which purports to be 
 written "from the report of some of his Highnesse 
 traine that attended in the voyage." One is almost 
 inclined to think, from a comparison of its language 
 with that of the poem, that Waller must have seen 
 it. "How soone are joyes turned into sorrowes? 
 safetie into dangers, a shining forenoone into a gloomy 
 euening ? His Highnesse, after all that feasting and 
 
28o EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 triuinphing in Saint Andera, being desirous to go 
 al)oord that goodly ship, (the Admirall of his Fleet) 
 called the Prince (a title due to it for the brauery and 
 Princely building of it) spent so much time that the 
 euening drew on apace, and with the eucning a more 
 threatning enemy : for not onely the tyde resisted his 
 coming backe (his Highnesse being then in his own 
 Barge, and his owne Watermen rowing in it) but a 
 storme began to arise, and the billows to swel high, 
 before the Watermen had gotle halfe way fro the ships 
 to the towne, the distance between the shore and the 
 ships being at least a Spanish league. The Watermen 
 were strong, cunning, and couragious, but the furious 
 waues taught their Oares another maner of practise 
 than euer they were put to upon the Thames. To the 
 town they could not possibly get, against a winde 
 and tyde so raging, or if they had ventured, it had 
 been dangerous, in regard a huge Barke (to saue her 
 selfe) lay very neer to the mouth of the Harbour : to 
 the shore they were as fearefuU to put, it being full of 
 rocks ; to the ships back againe to flie for succour, 
 night (a darke night) being spred over that Horizon, 
 denied that comfort, for if they should misse the 
 ships, they were in doubt to be carried into the maine, 
 the channell where the Fleet was anchored, running 
 with an impetuous and irresistible torrent. In this 
 full-Sea of Horrors the Prince resolued to turn back 
 towards the ships, and to fall in upon the first they 
 could fasten, rather than trust to the mercy of the 
 rockes, upon euery one of which sat ineuitable destruc- 
 tion. What could Hope trust to here, where neither 
 the watermens skill nor strength could incourage 
 
NOTES. 281 
 
 them to bring safety to their Master ? The clouds 
 opened, and discharged their artillery of raine, light- 
 ning and thunder : elements of contrary nature, war- 
 ring one upon another, whilst the waters (which were 
 called up to decide the controuersie) quarrelling with 
 the winds, made the uproare more horrid and tempes- 
 tuous. And so much greater was the danger, by how 
 much the night (by reason of the storme) grew darker 
 and darker : yet at last that omnipotent Arme, which 
 can tear up rocks from their center, and thart voyce which 
 can call in the winds, and still them with the mouing 
 of his finger, sent a Dove with an Oliue branch in her 
 bill as an assurance of comfort. For by casting out a 
 rope from a ship called the Defiance (which with 
 much hazard of his life one of the Prince's watermen 
 catched hold off), by spying a light in the same ship, 
 his Highnesse and all in the Barge with him, (praise be 
 given to the Almighty Pilot that stood at Helme) 
 were with unspeakable joy receiued into that shippe, 
 and there tooke up his lodging till the next morning : 
 nothing at all daunted at these terrors, sithence dangers 
 to noble minds are but the triumphs of their constant 
 sufferings." 
 
 P. I, //. 13-32. — Edward IV. employed the Earl 
 of Warwick to negotiate on his behalf with the Duke 
 of Savoy for the hand of his daughter, the Lady Bona, 
 sister-in-law to Louis XI. ; the Earl's proposals were 
 accepted, butbefore the treaty could be ratified, Edward 
 had met and fallen in love with Elizabeth Woodville, 
 his future Queen. His subsequent neglect of Warwick 
 caused him to transfer his allegiance to Henry VI. , and 
 led to a renewal of the civil war. " Nothing," says 
 
282 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 Fenton, " could have been more happily imagin'd 
 than the subject which Mr. Waller has selected to 
 insinuate the Prince's resolution to forsake the 
 Infanta. " It has been suggested that this poem was 
 re-cast and elaborated in accordance with subsequent 
 events, but though the marriage treaty between 
 Charles and Henrietta was not actually signed till 
 Nov. 10, 1624, there is nothing in the verses incon- 
 sistent with their having been written, as Fenton 
 supposes, in 1623, or at any rate in the beginning of 
 1624. Waller has of course exaggerated, or even 
 imagined the effect produced upon Charles by what 
 Sir Henry Wotton calls his "ambulatory view" of 
 Henrietta, but while Buckingham was still at Madrid 
 he had been approached by one Grey, an English 
 friar, with the suggestion that Mary de Medicis might 
 be induced to offer her youngest daughter as a substi- 
 tute for the Infanta. Grey subsequently proceeded 
 to England, and though Buckingham and Mary 
 denied all knowledge of the intr^e, James I. 
 consented to allow Lord Kensington to be sent to 
 Paris to sound the disposition of the French Court 
 upon the subject. Lord Kensington arrived in Paris 
 on Feb. 15, 1624, and on March 15 Buckingham dis- 
 closed to the Houses the project of a French alliance 
 for the Prince of Wales. 
 
 P. 2, //. 41-2. — L. 42 is repeated, p. 161, I. 134, as 
 a translation of ^n. iv. 583, ' ' Annixi torquent spu- 
 mas, et coerula verrunt." Cf. Fairfax, "Godfrey of 
 BuUoigne,'' xv. 12 — 
 
 . . . . "Some with strong Oars sweep 
 
 The Waters smooth, and brush the buxom Wave, 
 
 Their Breasts in sunder cleave the yielding deep.'* 
 
NOTES. 283 
 
 P- 3t ^' 45- — Sort = cotnfany or crowd. 
 
 P. 3, /. 54. — Imitated from Caesar's answer to the 
 boatman— "Quid times? Cssarem vehis." Cf. Mrs. 
 Philips. "To his Majesty (Charles II.) at his passage 
 into England " — 
 
 " Charles and his mighty hopes you bear ; 
 A greater now than Csesar's here." 
 
 P. 3, /. 66.— Cf. p. 9, 11. 21-2. 
 
 p. 4, /. 76. — Impeach = obstruct. Cf. p. 31, I. 12, 
 p. l66, 1. 82, and " Godfrey of BuUoigne," xi. 52 — 
 
 " And there it seems the mighty Prince intends 
 Godfredo's hoped Entrance to impeach." 
 
 P. 4, //. 85-93.— Cf. Mn. I. 81-101. 
 P. 5, //. 1 17-18. — Fenton refers these lines to 
 Claudian, De nupt. Honor, et Mar., 247-50. 
 
 Ceu geminse Paistana rosae per jugera regnant, 
 Haec largo matura die, saturataque vernis 
 Roribus, indulget spatio ; latet altera nodo. 
 Nee teneris audet foliis admittere soles." 
 
 P. 6, /. 135. — This line is repeated p. 13, 1. I. 
 P. 7, //. 163-64.— Ovid, Ex Ponto, iv. 3. 35 
 "Omnia sunt hominum tenui pendentia filo." 
 
 P. 7, /. 168. — Fenton refers this line to Iliad viii. 
 19-20 — 
 
 Xetpriv xpwrciijJ' i^ oipav6$ev Kpe/idffavTes 
 lldvTes S' i^iTTea-Be 6eol iraaal re Biawau 
 
 TO THE QUEEN. 
 
 Fenton supposes this poem to have been addressed 
 to the Queen shortly after her arrival in England, and 
 the language of it vjfould seem to support his view. 
 
284 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 He printed a glowing account of the attractions of 
 Henrietta from a letter of Lord Kensington to 
 Charles, who himself appears to have regarded the 
 alliance with much less enthusiasm : writing (Aug. 
 13, 1624) to the Earl of Carlisle, who was then in 
 Paris, he says : " Yet use what industry you can to 
 reduce them to reason, for I respect the person of the 
 lady as being a worthy creature, fit to be my wife ; and 
 as ye love me put it to a quick issue one way or 
 other." 
 
 P. 9, //. 45-46.— Cf. Fairfax, " Godfrey of Bulloigne," 
 vi. 70 — 
 
 '* For in the secret of her troubled Thought, 
 A doubtful Combat, Love and Honour fought," 
 
 P. 9, //. 49-52. — "At Paris the Prince spent one 
 whole day to give his mind some contentment 
 in viewing of a famous City and Court, which 
 was a neighbour to his future estates. But for the 
 better Veiling of their visages, his Highnesse and 
 the Marquesse (afterwards Duke, of Buckingham, his 
 Achates) bought each of them a Perriwigge somewhat 
 to overshaddow their foreheads. . . . Towards Even- 
 ing, by a meere chance, in appearance, though under- 
 lined with providence, they had a full sight of the 
 Queene Infanta, and of the princesse Henriettae Marie 
 with other great Ladyes at the practise of a Masquing 
 Daunce, which was then in preparation." (Wotton, 
 Short View of the Life and Death of Buckingham, 
 1642.) 
 
 P. 10, //. 57-58.— This idea is repeated p. 57, 
 
 II. II-I2. 
 
NOTES. 285 
 
 OF HIS majesty's RECEIVING THE NEWS OF THE 
 
 DUKE OF Buckingham's death. 
 The news of the assassination of the Duke of 
 Buckingham (Aug. 23, 1628) was brought to the 
 King by Sir John Hippesly, while he was at prayers, at 
 Southwick, the seat of Sir Daniel Norton, about five 
 miles from Portsmouth. According to Clarendon, 
 ' ' His Majesty continued unmoved and without the 
 least change in his countenance till prayers were 
 ended:" Another account (Court and Times of 
 Charles T.,Yo\, I, 390) says, "when this news was 
 brought by one Charles Price, the twenty-first chapter 
 of Acts was reading, where observe the twenty-eighth 
 verse, &c." 
 
 P. II, /. 8. — The Earl of ^indsey was immediately 
 appointed to succeed Buckingham in the command of 
 the fleet for the relief of Rochelle, which sailed Sept. 4. 
 P. II, /. 15. — John Felton was a member of an old 
 Suffolk family, and of the blood of the Earl of Arundel, 
 who, together with his wife and son. Lord Maltravers, 
 visited him in prison on the day before his execution. 
 Waller is probably thinking of the " ten-penny knife " 
 which the assassin purchased at a cutler's on Towet 
 Hill. 
 
 P. II, //. 17-20.— The allusion is to the picture by 
 Timanthes of the sacrifice of Iphigenia, wherein the 
 painter having expressed various degrees of grief in 
 the faces of Calchas, Odysseus, Ajax, and Menelaus, 
 represented Agamemnon, the father of the victim, 
 with his face buried in the folds of his drapery. 
 
 P. 12, //. 31-32. — " Some that observe the passages 
 in Court, say the King seems as much affected to the 
 
286 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 duke's memory as he was to his person, minding 
 nothing so much for the present as the advancement 
 of his friends and followers.'' (Mead to Stuteville, 
 Sept. 20, 1628.) 
 
 "The news we received on Saturday was as 
 foUoweth : . . . That the duchess {of Buckingham) 
 hath confirmed unto her, for her own and her son's 
 life, Roper's office, in the King's Bench, worth ;f 4,000 
 a-year : and that some talked (but mine author would 
 not believe it) as though the profits of the Admiralty 
 here, and the customs of Ireland also, should for 
 twenty-one years to come be applied to the duchess and 
 her children." (The same to the same, Oct. II, 1628.) 
 
 " Sir Henry Hungate, the duke's bosom friend, is 
 sworn gentleman of the Privy Chamber in Sir William 
 Crofte's place, who hath stood suspended there from 
 any time these three years, ever since he spoke against 
 the duke in parliament ; as likewise was Sir Ralph ' 
 Clare, in whose place young Ashburnham, the duke's 
 nephew, is sworn. " 
 
 "Two of the duke's footmen are sworn the king's 
 footmen, and the rest of the duke's servants are to 
 attend the Marquis of Hamilton." (The same to the 
 same, Nov. 1, 1628.) 
 
 TO THE KING ON HIS RETURN FROM SCOTLAND. 
 
 These lines, the first, as far as I can discover, of 
 Waller's that were printed, appeared in " Rex Redux," 
 1633, a collection of verses written by members of the 
 University of Cambridge and addressed to Charles I. 
 upon his return to England after his coronation at 
 Edinburgh. 
 
NOTES. 287 
 
 OF SALLE. 
 
 During the early years of the reign of Charles I., 
 the ravages committed by the Salle rovers formed a 
 constant subject of complaint in the House of 
 Commons. In July, 1625, Sir Walter Erie mentioned 
 to the House that, during the last few weeks, English 
 vessels had been captured by them off the Scilly 
 Islands, and on Aug. 1 1 of the same year a letter from 
 one William Legg, a prisoner to the Moorish pirates 
 at Salle, was read in the House, and witnesses, who 
 had escaped, were in attendance to speak of the 
 barbarous cruelty of their captors. Spoil, it was said, 
 had been committed upon the English coasts to such 
 an extent that vessels scarce dare venture from port. 
 Subsequently squadrons had been sent out, one under 
 the command of Sir Francis Steward, and another 
 under Sir Samuel Argall, to clear the English seas of 
 pirates, but they both returned without having effected 
 anything. At last on Feb. 26, 1637, a 6eet of six 
 ships, subsequently joined by two others, carrying in 
 all 990 men sailed from England, and on March 24 
 anchored in Salle roads. Salle apparently consisted 
 of two parts, Old and New Salle, and at this time the 
 governor of New Salle was in a state of revolt against 
 the authority of the King of Morocco. It was only by 
 occupying Old Salle with the consent of the governor 
 and joining in a civil war that the English were able 
 to eCFect their object. On Sept. 19, the Moorish 
 ambassador came on board the fleet, which set sail 
 and landed 339 rescued captives at Torbay on Oct. 6. 
 (A True Journall of the Sally Fleet, b'c. Published 
 lyjohn Dunton, London 1637.^ 
 
288 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 P. 13, //. 13-15. — I Samuel, xv. 33. 
 
 TO THE KING ON HIS NAVY. 
 
 In all the editions from 1664 to 1712 this poem was 
 
 printed first, and in that of 1711 a date, 1626, was for 
 
 the first time assigned to it, the writer of the " Life " 
 
 prefixed to the book being of opinion that the lines 
 
 were occasioned by the expedition against Spain, 
 
 under Lord Wimbledon, which sailed in that year. 
 
 Rymer {Short View of Tragedy, 1693, p. 79) dates it 
 
 1632, without giving any reason for his view. Fenton 
 
 ejects the first of these dates because in the same 
 
 edition (1711) the poem Of the danger his Majesty 
 
 escaped, &'c., was clearly assigned to a wrong year 
 
 (1621), and the second, because there was not in 
 
 1632 any naval armament considerable enough to form 
 
 the subject of the poem : he himself decides in favour 
 
 of 1636, because the Dutch, having concluded a 
 
 league with France against Spain, had, by their 
 
 encroachments on the Enghsh fisheries in 1635 made 
 
 it necessary for Charles to assert his sovereignty over 
 
 the narrow seas, by fitting out a fleet, of which 
 
 Waller's friend, the Earl of Northumberland, was next 
 
 year appointed Admiral. The preparation of this fleet, 
 
 being regarded as "only an artifice of State to draw 
 
 money from the subject," was the occasion of much 
 
 public dissatisfaction, and Fenton thinks this was a 
 
 happy opportunity for Waller to make his court to the 
 
 icing, by " proclaiming his navy to be, as in truth it 
 
 was, the glory and defence of the Nation." Bell (1854) 
 
 rejected Fenton's date on account of the absence of 
 
 any special allusion to the circumstances detailed 
 
NOTES. 289 
 
 above, but he follows him and other editors in finding 
 in the third and fourth lines a reference to a war between 
 France and Spain. It seems to me that these lines 
 ought to be assigned to the year 1627, when Bucking- 
 ham was busily engaged in the preparation of the 
 fleet, which, numbering loo sail and having on board 
 7,03o soldiers, eventually left Stokes Bay on June 
 27. I see in lines 3 and 4 a reference, not to a war 
 between France and Spain, but to an agreement 
 between the two countries, which was ratified at Paris' 
 in April, 1627, and, though of short duration, was, as 
 far as I am aware, the only occasion, about this time, 
 upon which they can be said to have forgotten their 
 hatred. 
 
 P. 15, /. I.— Cf. Fairfax, " Godfrey of BuUoigne," 
 XV. 32. 
 
 '* Thy Ship (Columbus) shall her Canvass wing 
 Spread o'er that World." 
 
 P. 15, //. 5-6.— Cf. p. IS3, U. 61-2. 
 
 P. 15, //. 7-8. — Fenton quotes from Varro, 
 " Qui potis plus urget ; ut pisces minutos roagnus 
 comest." 
 
 P. 15, //. 19-24. — Johnson (Life of Waller) says, 
 " In the poem on the Navy those lines are very noble 
 which suppose the King's power secure against a second 
 deluge ; so noble, that it werealmost criminal to remark 
 the mistake of 'centre ' for 'surface,' or to say that the 
 empire of the sea would be worth little if it were not 
 that the waters terminate in land." 
 
ago EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 UPON HIS majesty's REPAIRING OF I'AUL'S. 
 Cf. " Cooper's Hill," 19-24. 
 " Paul's the lafe thems of such a Muse, whose flight 
 
 Has bravely reach'd and soar'd above thy height ; 
 
 Now shalt thou stand, tho' sword, or time, or 6re, 
 
 Or zeal, more fierce than they, thy fall conspire, 
 
 Secure, whilst thee the best of poets sings, 
 
 Preserv'd from ruin by the best of Kings." 
 
 In the first edition of his poem (1642) Denham 
 appended as a side-note to these lines the words 
 Master Waller, which became M. {f. in later editions. 
 Cf. also Dryden, " Annus Mirabilis " st. 275 — 
 " Nor could thy fabric, Paul's, defend thee long, 
 Though thou wert sacred to thy Maker's praise, 
 Though made immortal by a poet's song, 
 
 And poets' songs the Theban walls could raise. " 
 
 P. 16, /. 2. — I am unaware of any authority for 
 this accentuation of Melila. 
 
 P. 16, /. 3. — The cathedral had suffered from fire in 
 1561, and though the repairs had been vigorously pro- 
 ceeded with up to 1 566, in that year they were aban- 
 doned and nothing was done for more than fifty years. 
 In the interval the building had, according to Dugdale, 
 been much damaged by " the corroding quality of the 
 coal smoke "in the neighbourhood, and had been per- 
 mitted generally to go to decay. 
 
 P. 16, //. 5-18. — On Nov. 16, 1620, James I 
 had issued a commission upon the subject of the 
 repair of St. Paul's, and for a short time this was 
 acted upon, but we soon hear that the Duke of 
 Buckingh.Tm had "borrowed" some of the stone 
 collected about the Cathedral and employed it in the 
 repair of the water-gate at York House, and the 
 
Work Was igain abandoned. In 1631 Charles, at the 
 instigation of Laud, visited the Cathedral, and on 
 April 10 issued a commission Under the Great Seal 
 which recited that the building wis then in a state of 
 decay. Commissioners were appointed to collect money 
 for its repair, but, at first at least, his subjects' hearts 
 did not respond at all freely to the King's touch, and 
 °ii'y £SA00 were subscribed in two years: The work 
 was finally interrupted by the troubles of the Civil 
 War, and some of the materials which had been 
 collected were handed over by the Parliament to the 
 parishioners of St. Gregory's for the repair of their 
 church. 
 
 /'. 17, //. 20-21. — Houses appear to have beert 
 actually built up against the walls of the Cathedral 
 upon land belonging to the Church : these, in spite 
 of the protests of their owners, were, by order of the 
 Privy Council, all removed before the end of 1632. 
 
 /". I7j '. 35- — " Reduce "= bring back : reducere. 
 
 P. 18, //. 5 '"4- — ^The repairs were begun in April, 
 1633, and Fenton, supposing that two years might 
 reasonably be allowed for the completion of the Choir, 
 has dated this poem 1635. I have been unable to 
 discover when the Choir was actually finished, but the 
 repairs were continued for nine years, and Denham's 
 allusion, in 1642, to St. Paul's as the lale thetiie of 
 Wajler, would seem to suggest a later date for the 
 poem. 
 
 P. 18, /. 54. — Charles subscribed out of the ecclesi- 
 astical fines the sum of ;^io,295 5s. 6d., which was 
 applied to the erection of a Portico, designed by Inigo 
 Jones, and intended as "an ambulatory for such as 
 
 (J 2 
 
292 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 usually walking in the body of the Church disturb'd 
 the solemn service in the Choir." 
 
 TO MR. HENRY LAWES, &C. 
 
 These lines first appeared among Waller's poems in 
 the edition of 1668. I have retained the date then 
 assigned to them, although the reference to Noy (1. 15) 
 as still pleading, creates a difficulty. 
 
 Henry Lawfes, whose musical connection with 
 " Comus " and so much of the lyric poetry of the 
 reign of Charles I. is well known, was bom in 1600, 
 probably at Salisbury, where his father was vicar- 
 choral. He was a pupil of Coperario, and in 1625 
 was appointed one of the Gentlemen of the Chapel 
 Royal and Clerk of the Cheque to Charles I. He 
 lived to compose the anthem for the Coronation of 
 Charles II., and, dying in 1662, was buried in 
 Westminster Abbey. 
 
 P. 19, /. 15. — William Noy, notorious as the 
 inventor of ship-money, was born at St. Burian, 
 in Cornwall, in 1577. After three years spent 
 at Exeter College he entered at Lincoln's Inn, 
 and, according to Anthony a Wood, applied him- 
 self with great diligence to the study of the 
 law. He sat in the Parliaments of 1621, 1624, 
 1625, and 1628, in all of which he opposed the King, 
 at length in 1631 he was prevailed upon to accept the 
 post of Attorney-General, and in that office " grew 
 the most hateful man that ever lived." (Weldon, The 
 Court of K. Charles continued. ) Clarendon says of 
 him that he thought "he could not give a clearer 
 testimony that his knowledge in the Law was greater 
 
NOTES. 293 
 
 than all other men's, than by making That, Law, 
 which all other men believed Not to be so." He 
 died at Tunbridge Wells, Aug. 9, 1634 ; and though 
 Fenton's suggestion that this poem may originally 
 have been dated 1625 is a poor solution of the 
 difficulty referred to above, I am unable to find a 
 better. 
 
 A reference to Noy in CoUop's Poesis Rediviva, 
 1656, p. 79, seems inconsistent with the account of 
 his early years given in the Athence Oxonienses — 
 
 " To prove wild youth makes good man th' proverb take. 
 See how the wilder Colts best horses make ! 
 Who Noy in Law, Butler in's art excels ? 
 Who Julius or Sevents parallels ? " 
 
 P. 20, //. 27-28. — Lawes, to ridicule the practice of 
 singing songs the words of which neither the singer 
 nor the audience understood, set to music a suc- 
 cession of titles of Italian airs as they appeared in 
 an index, and was successful in passing them off as 
 a veritable Italian song. He published this composi- 
 tion in Ayres and Dialogues , 1653. 
 
 THE COUNTRY TO MY LADY OF CARLISLE. 
 
 This lady was the famous Lucy Percy, daughter of 
 Henry, Earl of Northumberland, and aunt of 
 Sacharissa. Her political intrigues have occupied 
 the attention of the historians of our time, as her 
 beauty did that of the poets of her own, and it may be 
 said that the" former have united in clearing her 
 character from the scandalous aspersions cast upon it 
 by Sir Philip Warwick. Lady Carlisle died suddenly, 
 on Nov. 5, 1660, and was buried at Petworth. 
 
294 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 P. 21, /. 2. — Comply = please : complaire. 
 
 P. 21, II. 7-IO. — Cf. the address " TotheQueene,'' 
 yet if your Ma''' please to listen what Echo the country 
 returnes to so loud a praise. 
 
 THE COUNTESS OF CARLISLE IN MOURNING. 
 
 This poem was addressed to the Countess of 
 Carlisle upon the death of her husband, who died at 
 Whitehall, April 5, 1636. James Hay, first Earl of 
 Carlisle, was the son of Sir James Hay of Kingask, 
 educated partly in France, he had, in early life, served 
 in the Scotch Guards at Paris. Handsome, accom- 
 plished, and of fascinating manners, he soon found his 
 way into the good graces of James I. , who showered 
 wealth and honours upon him : he was created Gentle- 
 man of the King's Bedchamber, Comptroller of 
 Scotland, 1608, Lord Bewlie, 1609, Viscount Don- 
 caster and Earl of Carlisle, K.G. He was Master of 
 the Great Wardrobe from 1616 to 1636. He married 
 firstly Honora, daughter and heiress of Lord Denny, 
 and on the death of that lady, the Countess of Nor- 
 thumberland hoped, by a marriage between him and 
 her daughter, to effect the release of her husband, who 
 was confined in the Tower for supposed complicity in 
 the Gunpowder Plot. Northumberland, however, 
 declared that he would rather die in prison than owe 
 his release to a Scottish adventurer at the price of his 
 daughter's hand, and when Lady Lucy visited him, he 
 attempted to detain her in the Tower, saying that he 
 was a Percy, and could not endure that his daughter 
 should dance any Scotch jigs ; he also oflfered her 
 £zofxx> if she would consent to be ruled by him. 
 
NOTES. 295 
 
 His efforts were unavailing, and on Nov. 5, 161 7, 
 Chamberlain writes to Dudley Carleton, " On Thurs- 
 day the Lord Hay married his mistress the Lady 
 Lucy Percy, and that night the King and Princess 
 honoured the wedding supper with their presence at 
 the Wardrobe." 
 
 Cf. Herrick (ed. Pollard, I. 78), " Upon a black 
 twist rounding the arm of the Countess of Carlisle," 
 
 P. 23, //. 26-30. ^Carlisle had been employed by 
 James I. upon various embassies, notably to mediate 
 between the Emperor and the States of Bohemia, 
 and between Louis XIII, and the French Protestants, 
 but Waller has greatly exaggerated "the power of his 
 enchanting tongue. " 
 
 P. 23, //. 33-36. — Shortly before his inarriage to 
 Lady Lucy Percy the Earl of Carlisle entertained her 
 at a masque and supper, which occupied the workman, 
 ship and invention of thirty cooks for twelve days, and 
 cost more than ;^2, 200. Sir Anthony Weldon stales 
 that he (Carlisle) " imported live sturgeon from the 
 Black Sea, which were served whole at bis banquets, 
 and that his suppers consisted of a rapid succession of 
 the most costly dishes, the greater part of which passed 
 untouched to his servants, one of whom was seen 
 devouring a pie, composed of ambergris, magisterial of 
 pearl and musk, which cost ;^Io." During his court, 
 ship he lived in Richmorid Park, where he made 
 " solemn feasts twice a week at least with that cost 
 and expense that the Lady of Northumberland dares 
 not so much as once invite him by reason of his 
 curiosity." (Chamberlain to Dudley Carleton, Aug. 9, 
 1617,) 
 
296 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 P. 23, //. 37-43. — The Earl of Carlisle set out 
 May 17, 1624, to join Lord Kensington in Paris in 
 negotiating the marriage contract between Charles 
 and Henrietta. On May i, 1625, the marriage was 
 ce'ebrated by proxy, on a stage erected oppo.iite the 
 west-end of Notre Dame, and the Princess was sur- 
 rendered into the hands of the two lords by her 
 brother, Louis XIIL 
 
 P. 23, //. 46-48. — Fenton compares Claudian, in 
 Rufin, I. 166-7 — 
 
 . . ** novi quo Thessala caatu 
 Eripiat lunare jubar" . . . 
 
 I N ANSWER TO ONE WHO WRIT AGAINST A FAIR LADY. 
 
 P. 24, //. 13-18. — These lines, now first included 
 among Waller's poems, were printed by Neve [^Cursory 
 Remarks on English Poets, 1789, p. 71) from a manu- 
 script of the middle of the reign of Charles I,, in 
 which they concluded the poem. 
 
 P. 25, /. 19. — Cf. Spenser, Fairy Quern, Book I, 
 cant. 7, St. 33. 
 
 OF HER CHAMBER. 
 
 "Her (Lady Carlisle's) chamber, as it was called, 
 was unlike any other reception-room in England at 
 that time, and seems to have partaken rather of the 
 character of the salons of brilliant Frenchwomen a 
 century later." (De Fonblanque, Annals of the House 
 of Percy, p. 399.) 
 
 TO PHYLLIS. 
 In Mr. Waller's transcript is written, as a note to 
 the heading of this poem, the lady Carlile, but she is 
 obviously not the lady addressed, and I am afraid the 
 identity of Phyllis is undiscoverable. 
 
NOTES. 297 
 
 P. 27, //. 19-22. — Fenton compares with these lines 
 the following from Sir John Suckling's Brennorali, 
 act iii. sc. i. 
 
 " Tempests of wind thus (as my storms of grief 
 Carry my tears which should relieve my heart,) 
 Have hun-y'd to the thankless ocean clouds. 
 And show'rs, that needed not the courtesy ; 
 When the poor plains have languished for he want, 
 And almost burnt asunder." 
 
 TO ME. GEORGE SANDYS, &C. 
 
 These lines were prefixed to Sandys' Paraphrase 
 upon the Divine Poems, iS'iS, folio. 
 
 UPON BEN. JONSON. 
 
 These lines, headed Upon Ben : Johnson, the most 
 excellent of comick Poets, first appeared in Jonsonus 
 Vii-bius, 1638, quarto, a collection of poems in memory 
 of Jonson, who died in the preceding year, edited by 
 Bp. Duppa. Waller told Aubrey that he was not 
 acquainted with Ben Jonson. 
 
 TO MY LORD OF NORTHUMBERLAND, UPON THE 
 DEATH OF HIS LADY. 
 
 Algernon Percy, tenth Earl of Northumberland 
 (born Sept. 29, 1602, died Oct. 13, 1668), married in 
 1629 Lady Anne Cecil, daughter of the Earl of 
 Solisbury, receiving with her a marriage portion of 
 .;^I 1,000. Like his sister. Lady Lucy, he was not 
 successful in obtaining for his marriage the approbation 
 of his father, who said that " the blood of Percy would 
 not mix with the blood of Cecil if you poured them 
 into a dish." The Countess died Dec. 6, 1637. The 
 
agS EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 following extract from a letter from Garrard to Lord 
 Wentworlh, Dec. i6, 1637, announcing her death, is 
 the best possible commentary on this poem — " She 
 was a virtuous and religious young lady, so apt and 
 fitted for him which by his wisdom he had wrought 
 her to, that hardly he will find the like. At the time 
 of her sickness I was witness of his love and care of 
 her. Never out of her chamber, seldom from her bed- 
 side, not parting from her till all the visible signs of 
 death were on her, about an hour and a half before she 
 expired : he took her death most heavily : passion 
 hath the least outward power of him of any man I 
 know ; yet in this it had got on him a great mastery. 
 My Lord Conway and I never left him — bad com- 
 forters both, for /i^held his peace, and /could not tell 
 what to say. In these things time doth all ; yet I 
 brake silence first, being sent of some messages 
 betwixt his Lordship and the other sad family at 
 Salisbury House. He intended a solemn funeral and 
 a costly one, which would have been a. fortnight in 
 preparing ; but my Lord of Salisbury made it his 
 earnest suit to him to do it with all speed and privacy, 
 especially since she died of that disease \the small pox], 
 and that two of his daughters were sick of the same 
 disease in the House ; which was yielded unto. So 
 she was embalmed, sent in a barge to Syon, from 
 whence his servants attended to Petworth, where she 
 is interred. I never knew a more general lamentation 
 for the death of any this long time. My Lord of 
 Northumberland is come to his sister Carlisle's 
 house, part of Salisbury House, Some little time he 
 intends to spend at Sypn, and then he will return 
 
NOTES. 299 
 
 to Court and to his place and begin the world aneikr 
 again. " 
 
 P. 31, //. 7-9. — Fenton quotes from the letter of 
 Sulpicius to Cicero on the death of his daughter 
 Tullia : ' ' NuUus dolor est quem iion longinquitas 
 temporis minuat ac molliat ; hoc te expectare tempus 
 tibi turpe est, ac non ei rei sapientia tua te occurrere.'' 
 
 P. 31, //. 17-34. — ^milius, having destroyed the 
 empire of Macedon, lost his two sons, one five days 
 before, the other three days after his triumph. 
 
 His speech appears in Valerius Maximus, V. 10. 2, 
 " Precatus sum, ut si adversi quid Populo Romano 
 iramineret, totum in meam domum convertevetur.'' 
 
 TO MY LORD ADMIRAL, &C. 
 
 Mr. John Bruce writing to Notes and Queries, 4th 
 Series, iii. 222, was, I believe, the first to point out 
 that Fenton was wrong in referring this poem to the 
 time when the Earl of Northumberland was appointed 
 General of the English Army against the Scots, and to 
 a sickness feigned by him to relieve himself of his 
 command. The Earl was nominated Lord Admiral, 
 March 18, 1638 (his appointment is dated April 13), 
 and the following extracts from the Strafford Corre- 
 spondence leave no doubt as to the date and the reality 
 of the illness to which Waller alludes. Garrard writing 
 to Lord Wentworth (May 10, 1638), after describing 
 the nature of the Earl's complaint and the remedies 
 applied by Mayerne and Baskerville, his physicians, 
 says, "these last two nights he rested very well, so 
 that the lookers-on as well as the physicians begin to - 
 conceive good hopes of his recovery, which I beseech 
 
300 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 God to grant, since he is one of the noblest and 
 bravest gentlemen this age hath bred ; the King, the 
 kingdom, all his friends would have an unspeakable 
 loss of him, he is infinitely lamented by all sorts of 
 men." 
 
 Writing again, on July 3 of the same year, to Lord 
 Wentvforth, Garrard announces the Earl's recovery 
 and says, ' ' He is a well-beloved man here in England, 
 I never knew greater lamentations made for any man's 
 recovery. I never had so long a time of sorrow ; for 
 seven weeks I did nothing heartily but pray, not sleep 
 nor eat, in all that time I never bowled ; I hope now 
 we shall have days of mirth, if the Scots will give us 
 leave. " 
 
 This poem appeared in the second (1642) and 
 third (1651) editions of Carew's poems. 
 
 P. 33, /. 10. — The second wife of the Earl of North- 
 umberland was Elizabeth, daughter of Theophilus, 
 second Earl of Suffolk, through whom he became 
 possessed of Northumberland House in the Strand. 
 
 P. 33, /. 12. — Cf. p. 42, U. 45-56, and Pope, 
 Autumn, 11. 15-16. 
 
 " When tuneful Hy]as with melodious moan. 
 Taught rocks to weep and made the mountains groan." 
 
 P. 33, //. 17-20. — Laud, writing to Lord Went- 
 worth. May 14, 1638, says, " My Lord of North- 
 umberland was at the last made Lord Admiral till the 
 Duke of York come of age. . . . but now, (which I 
 am heartily sorry to write) all the hopes of his service 
 are in danger, for he hath been in a high fever now 
 these three weeks ; and though the physicians speak 
 of out of danger, yet for my part, out of my love to 
 
NOTES. 301 
 
 him and his worth, am very fearful. I pray God 
 comfort and. repair him, for his loss will be great in 
 these times." 
 
 F. 34, /. 28. — A reference to the Countess of Car 
 lisle, the Earl's sister : the illness of his brother, Henry 
 Percy ( The next support, fair hope of your great name), 
 appears to be referred to in 1. 30. Garrard, writing to 
 Lord Wentworth, May 10, 1638 (the letter quoted 
 from above), says, "his brother Percy hath also been 
 desperately sick of a burning fever, stark mad with it, 
 but mends somewhat, though slowly. I thought last 
 week we should have lost both the brothers together. " 
 
 P. 34, //. 33-34. — Cf. Samson Agonistes, 727-8 — 
 
 ** but now with head declined 
 Like a fair flower siircharg'd with dew she weeps." 
 
 TO THE QUEEN MOTHER OF FRANCE, &C. 
 
 After her exile from France, Marie de Medicis had 
 lived at Brussels and AvSnes in Hainault ; in Aug. , 
 1638, she announced her intention of visiting England, 
 and in spite of the remonstrances of Charles I., con- 
 veyed through Boswell, his agent at the Hague, she 
 started on Sept. 25 : on Sept. 30 her servant Mon- 
 sigot announced to Charles that she was on the way, 
 and in deference to the pleadings of Henrietta Maria, 
 he ordered that she should be honourably received on 
 her arrival. She landed at Harwich on Oct. 19. 
 Her welcome appears to have been of a very mixed 
 character, and after living in St. James's Palace for 
 three years, as a pensioner of the King, she was in 
 Aug., 1641, on the petition of Parliament, removed 
 from the kingdoiT). 
 
301 ^bMVMb WALLER: 
 
 P- 35, II'- 9'tii— Echatd, quoted by Fenton, says 
 felie arrived at the tittle of such extreme wet and windy 
 weather, that the Water-tnen distinguished it by the 
 name of Queen-Mother weather. In a masque pre- 
 sented at York House, Nov. 5, 1626, Marie de Medicis 
 had been "represented as enthroned in the midst of 
 the celestial deities upon the sea which separated 
 England and France, welcoming the Elector and 
 ElectreSs as well as her three daughters with their 
 husbands, the Kings of England and Spain and the 
 Prince of Piedmont." (Gardiner, England under 
 Buckingham and Charles /., ii. 100.) 
 
 P, 36, Ih 13-16.— Cf. ^n. vi. 785-8— 
 
 " qualis Berecyhtia mater 
 Invehitur curru Phrygias turrita per urbes, 
 Lzeta deum partu centum complexa nepotes, 
 Omnes caelicolas, omties supera alta tenentes." 
 
 P. 36, /. 30.- — Marie de Medicis was daughter of the 
 Grand Duke of Tuscany : the references in the pre- 
 ceding lines are to Tasso, with whom Waller was 
 familiar through the medium of P'airfax's translation. 
 
 UPON THE DEATH OF MV LADY RICH. 
 
 Lady Anne Cavendish, only daughter of William, 
 Earl of Devonshire) married to Lord Rich, heir of the 
 Earl of Warwick, died in het 27th year, on AUgi 24, 
 1638, at Lees, and wis buried at Felstead, in Essex. 
 Dr. John Gauden composed a long Latin inscription 
 upon her, in prose, and Sidney Godolphin wrote 
 some verses to her memory, which were first printed 
 with Gauden's Funeral Sermon on her son. Lord 
 
NOTES. 303 
 
 Roliert Rich, 1658, and included by Fenton in his 
 edition of Waller. 
 
 P. 37, /. 4.-*Cf. Pope, Windsor Porist, 45-56—' 
 
 " To savage beasts and savage laws A prey, 
 And Kings more furious and severe than tHey." 
 
 P. 37, //■ 21-24.— Cf. Oldham, To Madam L.E.j 
 upon her Recovery^ 
 
 " The Queen of Love (we're told) oflcii let us see 
 That Goddesses from wounds could not be free.'' 
 
 P. 38, /. 26. — Her mother was Christian (so called 
 from having been born on Christmas Day), daughter 
 of Edward, Lord Bruceof Kinloss, who claimed descent 
 from Robert Bruce (cf. 1. 32). This lady, one of the 
 most intelligent and distinguished women of her time, 
 after having concributed to the Restoration by secret 
 intrigues with Monk, died Jan. l6j 1675. 
 
 P. 38, //. 41-42. — Fenton says these lines are imi- 
 tated from Aurelius Victor's character of Fabricius, qtti 
 diffUilius ab hontstate quam sol a suo cursu averti 
 posset. 
 
 P. 39, //. 57-58.— Cf. the poem on p. 60, Tell me, 
 lovely, loving pair 1 
 
 P. 39, //. 61-62. — Cf. Sidney Godolphin's lines — 
 
 " The largest mind, and which did most extend 
 To all the laws of daughter, wife, and friend." 
 
 P- 39. II- 75-76.— Cf. p. 127, 11, 10-12. 
 P. 40, //. 86-89.— Cf. Oldham, On the Death oj 
 Mrs. Katherine Kingscourt^^ 
 
 " 'Twas sure some noble Being left the Sphere, 
 Which deign'd a little to inhabit here. 
 And ean't be said to die but disappear." 
 
304 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 And riatman, On the Death of Charles II. — 
 
 " But Prince"?, (like the wondrous Enoch) should be free 
 From Death's unbounded Tyranny, 
 And when their Godlike Race is run, 
 And nothing glorious left undone. 
 Never submit to Fate, but only disappear." 
 
 Browning, in -- private letter, expressed admiration 
 for this idea, but assigned the credit of it to Flatman. 
 
 THRYSIS, GALATEA. 
 
 The lady, whose death is lamented in this poem, 
 was Lady Mary Feilding, eldest daughter of William, 
 first Earl of Denbigh, and Mary, daughter of Sir 
 George Villiers, and sister of George, first Duke of 
 Buckingham. She was married in 1620 to James, 
 first Duke of Hamilton (then Earl of Arran), and 
 died May 10, 1638. 
 
 P. 41, /. 16. — Fenton quotes from Floras, Prooem 2, 
 " ad constituendum ejus imperium contendisse virtus 
 et fortuna videantur." 
 
 P. 41, //. 19-20. — The Duke of Hamilton traced 
 his descent from a sister of King James III. of Scot- 
 land, and the right of his family to succeed to the 
 crown, upon failure of the Stuart line, was recognized 
 by Parliament. Lady Hamilton was Lady of the Bed- 
 chamber to Henrietta Maria, and was, according to 
 Burnet, admitted by her " into an entire confidence 
 and friendship." 
 
 P. 41, //. 29-34. — Cf. Cicero, de Semct. xix. 30. 
 "Quasi poraa ex arboribus, cruda si sint, vi avelluntur; 
 si matura et cocta, decidunt: sic vitara adolescentibus 
 y is aufert ; senibus maturitas, 
 
NOTES. 305 
 
 ON MY LADY DOROTHY SIDNEY'S PICTURE. 
 
 Anthony Vandyck arrived in England about the 
 end of March, or the beginning of April, 1632, having 
 previously paid a short visit to this country in 1630, 
 There are at least three portraits ofSacharissa painted 
 by him, to one of v^hich this poem doubtless alludes. 
 The Earl of Leicester sat to him in 1632, but the 
 language of the lines "To Vandyck," and' the 
 apparent age of Lady Dorothy in her portraits, seem 
 to point to a later date, when he had painted a series 
 of English pictures. Sir William Temple had a 
 portrait of her, probably a copy of one of Vandyck's ; 
 writing to him, Dorothy Osborne says : "I have sent 
 you my picture because you wished for it ; but pray 
 let it not presume to disturb my lady Sunderland's. " 
 
 P. 43, /. I. — The reference is to the Arcadia of Sir 
 Philip Sidney, the great-uncle of Lady Dorothy, in 
 which Pyrocles and Musidorus, seeing the portraits of 
 I'hiloclea and Pamela {Musidorus' flame) hanging in 
 the house of Calander, fall in love with them and 
 ultimately marry the originals. Dorus was the name 
 assumed by Musidorus when he disguised himself as 
 a shepherd and obtained entrance into the house of 
 Dametas, the guardian of Pamela. 
 
 P. 43, //. 4-5.— Cf. p. 216, 1. 2. 
 
 TO VANDYCK. 
 
 P. 45, //. 49-50.— Cf. p. 28, 11. 17-18. 
 
 AT PENSHURST. 
 
 P. 46, //. 17-20.— Cf. p. 16, 11. 11-15. 
 
 p. 47, //. 25-27. — Cf. Ben Jonson, To Penshurst. 
 
 13-16 — 
 
 "That tallerTree, which of a Nat was set, 
 
 At his great Birth, where all the Muses met. 
 
 There in the writhed Bark, are cut the NameS 
 
 Of many a Sylvane, taken with his flamei: " 
 
 X 
 
3o6 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 TO MY LORD OF LEICESTER. 
 
 P. 47, /. 12. —The Earl of Leicester started from 
 Rye, to act as ambassador at the Court of France, 
 May 17, 1636, and took his leave of the French King, 
 upon his return to England, March 14, 1639. 
 
 OF THE MISREPORT OF HER BEING PAINTED. 
 
 P. 50, /. 17.— Cf. Spenser, Muipotmos, st. 2i,ll. 3-4. 
 
 " There lavish Nature in her best attire, 
 Powres forth sweete odors and alluring sights." 
 P. 50, /. 22. — Thaumantias, i.e.. Iris, the daughter 
 of Thaumas. 
 
 OF HER PASSING THROUGH A CROWD OF PEOPLE. 
 P. 51, /. 8. — admiral, the leading ship of a squadron. 
 P. 51, /. 13. — ;■««<&= exults. 
 
 FABULA PHOSBl ET DAPHNES, 
 There is a tradition that these lines were written by 
 Sir John Suckling, and by him sent to Waller. 
 
 SONG — Say, Lovely Dream ! 
 
 This poem was printed in Beaumont's Poems, 1653 
 
 it was probably conveyed straight from the edition of 
 
 1645 °f Waller, as a misprint. Shales for Shades, 
 
 occurs in both. 
 
 TO THE SERVANT OF A FAIR LADY. 
 P. 55, /. I. — Dorothy Osborne, writing to Sir 
 William Temple, frequently speaks of her maid, Jane 
 Wright, as his "fellow-servant."' 
 
 TO A VERY YOUNG LADY. 
 This lady, a younger sister of Sacharissa, wa 
 married to John, eldest son of Sir Thomas' Pelham, 
 Jan. 20, 1647. 
 
NOTES, 307 
 
 TO AMORET. 
 
 Fenton says that he had heard the Duke of 
 Buckingham say that the person whom Waller 
 celebrated under the title of Amoret was Lady 
 Sophia Murray. This lady, the daughter of the Earl 
 of Annandale, was certainly an acquaintance of 
 Waller, she was implicated in his plot, but it seems 
 to me more likely that Amoret stands for Lady Anne 
 Cavendish, afterwards Lady Rich. In the edition of 
 1645 the poem which immediately follows this is 
 headed : On the Friendship betwixt Sacharissa and 
 Amoret, and the note to it in Mr. Waller's transcript 
 is Lady Dor. Sidnie &> Lady Anne Candish ivife 
 to my Lord Rich : what is said there of the friendship 
 between the two agrees with the lines on the death of 
 Lady Rich, p. 37. 
 
 ON HER COMING TO LONDON. 
 
 These lines are here for the first time included in 
 Waller's poems ; they occur among the State Papers, 
 Dom. Charles L ccccxiv. 19, and were sent to 
 JVotes and Qaen'es, 4th series, iii. i, by Mr. John 
 Bruce. In places, the paper upon which they are 
 written is worn, and the words in brackets are conjec- 
 tural. At the end of the poem is written, Intended 
 to her LSf at her coming to London, March the 2, 
 1638. The figure "8" has apparently been written 
 over a "7." 
 
 AT PENSHURST. 
 
 P. 64, //. 21-23. — An allusion to Mount Sion, a hill 
 from the foot of which the mineral waters at Tun- 
 bridge Wells issue. 
 
 X 2 
 
3o8 EDMUJ^D WALLER. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF THE SUMMER ISLANDS. 
 The Bermudas derived their name of Summer 
 Islands from the fact that Sir George Somers was 
 wrecked upon them in 1609 while on his way to 
 Virginia. James I. granted a charter to certain 
 merchant-adventurers for the colonization and govern- 
 ment of the islands, and the rules and regulations of 
 he Company were published in 1621 — " Orders and 
 Constitutions, Partly collected out of his Majestie's 
 Letters Patents ; and partly by authority and in 
 vertue of the said Letters Patents." Waller, in 
 speaking of them as " late.discovered isles," appears 
 to have been ignorant of, or to have purposely 
 ignored, the visit which Juan Bermudez, a Spaniard, 
 is said to have paid to them in 1522. Historians of 
 the Bermudas have delighted to point out inaccuracies 
 in Waller's description, and have even declared that 
 th? event which this poem celebrates is geographically 
 Impossible. There is no evidence, beyond a vague 
 tradition, that the poet ever visited the islands, 
 and when he says, " Bermudas walled with rocks, 
 who does not kno w ? " h*e is only crediting his audience 
 with the same kind of familiarity with the place as he 
 had himself, such as could be derived from the 
 accounts of others. Waller certainly did not invent 
 this story of the Whales, and it is possible that Marvell 
 may have had this particular incident in his mind 
 when he wrote of the Bermudas — 
 
 " Where He the huge sea-monstets wracks. 
 That lift the deep upon their backs." 
 
 Maruell, vol. i. p. 39 (ed. Aitken). 
 
 The whole of Marvell's poem, Fairfax, " Godfrey of 
 
NOTES. 309 
 
 BuUoigne," XV. 35-36, xvi. 11, and Spenser, "Faerie 
 Queene," iii. 6. 42, should be compared with Waller's 
 description of the islands. 
 
 P. 66, /. 12. — No. 200 of the "Orders" above 
 mentioned is a curious commentary on this line — 
 " No kind of Timber- wood growing in the said Hands 
 shall be used for firewood. " It appears that the orange- 
 crop had suffered severelyfrom the lossof the protection 
 from the wind which the cedars had afforded. 
 
 P. 67, //. 46-47.— Cf. Oldham, " Verses. Presenting 
 a Book to Cosmelia" — 
 
 " Sure Heaven preserv'd her by the Fall uncurst, 
 To tell how good the Sex was made at first.'* 
 
 P. 70, //. 29-30.— Cf. Horace, Odes i. 3. 9-12. 
 
 P. 70, /. 49. — Robert Rich, Earl of Warwick, was 
 one of the principal proprietors of the Bermudas (a 
 parish there still bears his name); he had been mainly 
 instrumental in settling the colony there and else- 
 where in the West Indies. He disposed of twenty 
 of his shares in the Bermuda Company to one Trott 
 for ;^6oo, a sale which involved his family in liti- 
 gation after his death. 
 
 P. 71, /. II. — Spenser, "Faerie Queene," v. i. 12. 
 
 P. 73, /. 64. — ^n. II, 749. ^£/ca; ^ seek again, 
 Xaixarepeto. Cf. Dryden, "Annus Mirabilis," 257 — 
 
 " And while through burning labyrinths they retire, 
 With loathing eyes repeat what they would shun." 
 
 WHEN HE WAS AT SEA. 
 
 These lines were first printed by Neve {^Cursory 
 Remarks on English Poets, 1789,) and afterwards, 
 from another MS., in the "Tix^l Portly," 1813. 
 
310 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 TO MY LORD OF FALKLAND. 
 
 [Cf. Cowley, To the Lerd Falkland. For his safe 
 Xeturn from the Northern Expedition against the 
 SCOTS.] 
 
 This poem was occasioned by the miserable expedi- 
 tion against the Scots which was organized in Feb., 
 1 639. The General-in-Chief was the Earl of Arundel, 
 and, in spite of his protests, the Eari of Holland, 
 " the most incompetent of men," was forced upon 
 him as his General of Horse. HoHand, celebrated 
 for the courtliness of his manners and his handsome 
 person, owed his appointment Solely to the favour of 
 the Queen, and his conduct was said to have led to 
 the failure of the Expeditioji, though Professor 
 Gardiner (J^all of the Monarchy ef Charles I., vol. 1. 
 pp. 230-1) acquits him of the treachery with which he 
 has been charged. 
 
 P. 76, //. 26-28.— Cf. Oldham, "To the Memory 
 of Mr. Atwood " — 
 
 *' Like tlie fair teeming Helirew, she 
 T>id travail witb a wrangling progeny. 
 And harbour'd in her bowels feuds and ciril wars." 
 
 Cf. Fairfax, "Godfrey of Bull<»gne,"xx. 114 — 
 
 *' And as a Lyon strikes him with his train. 
 His Native Wrath to qtncken and to move ; 
 So he awak'd his fury and disdain " — 
 and XV. 50. 
 
 Cowlfey, " On his Majesties Ketum out of Scot- 
 land " — 
 
 *' How justly would our Neighbours smile 
 At these mad quarrels of our Isle 
 Sweld with proud hopes to snatch the whole away,'' — 
 
NOTES. 311 
 
 " This noise at home was but Fates policie 
 To aise our Spirits more high. 
 So a bold Lyon ere he seeks his prey, 
 Lashes his sides, and roars, and then away " 
 
 Dryden, "Astrsea Redux," 1 15-18— 
 
 " Tremble, ye nations, who secure before, 
 Laughed at those arm-i that 'gainst ourselves we bore 
 Roused by the lash of his own stubborn tail. 
 Our Lion now will foreign foes assail." 
 
 OF THE QUEEN. 
 
 The opening of this poem has been imitated by 
 Leigh Hunt in his address to Queen Victoria. 
 
 " The lark dwells lowly. Madam,— on the ground,— 
 And yet his Song within the heavens is found," &c. 
 
 THE APOLOGY OF SLEEP, &C, 
 
 Mr. Gosse (Shakespeare to Pope, p. 69), followed 
 by Mrs. Ady (Sacharissa, Julia Cartwright, p. 34), 
 has treated this poem as addressed to Sacharissa — 
 "The Lady who can do anything but Sleep when she 
 pleaseth " is, of course, the Queen. 
 
 PUERPERIUM. 
 
 Fenton supposes that this poem was written shortly 
 before the Queen was delivered of her fourth son, 
 Henry, Duke of Gloucester (born at Oatlands, July 
 20, 1640), in the midst of the Scotch troubles. 
 
 P. 82, //. S-12. — Cf. Lucretius, L 29-40. 
 
 P. 82, /. 16. — Fenton has remarked upon Waller's 
 accentuation of "halcjfon," "in which he has never 
 been, nor deserves to be imitated by others " ; he 
 
3IZ EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 quotes Sandys, Translation of the Metamorphoses, 
 
 Bk. xi.— 
 
 " Seven winter days with peaceful calms possest, 
 Alcyon sits upon her floating nest." 
 
 TO AMORET. 
 P. 83, //. 1-2.— Cf. Suckling, Brenroralt— 
 " Her face is like the milky way i' th' sky, 
 A meeting of gentle lights without a name," 
 
 P. 83, //. 6-H. — These lines are printed, with 
 some variations, as part of a poem, a patchwork of 
 several of Waller's, in Wits^ Recreaiions, 1640. I have 
 not thought it necessary to note the variations which 
 appear in such of Waller's poems as are contained 
 in the above collection, they are obviously the result 
 of faulty copying or imperfect recollection. 
 
 TO PHYLLIS. 
 This appears in W. R., as "The cunning Cur- 
 tezan," and is followed by " The Fall " (p. 96), 
 which is headed " The Reply." 
 
 X LA MALADE. 
 
 p. 85, //. 19-20. — " I mention them not upon 
 account of that couplet, but one that follows ; which 
 ends with the very same rhymes and words (appear 
 and clear) that the couplet but one after that does ; 
 and therefore in my Waller there is a various reading 
 of the first of these couplets ; for there it runs thus — 
 " * So lightnings in a stormy air, 
 
 Scorch more than when the sky is fair.' " 
 
 Bp. of Rochester to Pope, Sept. 27, 1721. 
 P. 86, II. 22-24.— Cf. Oldham, "To Madam 
 
 L. E."— 
 
 " By every breach in that fair lodging made, 
 Its blest Inhabitant is more display'd," 
 and p. 272, 11, 13-14. 
 
NOTES. 313 
 
 FOR DRINKING OF HEALTHS. 
 
 In Mr. Waller's transcript, from which the first six 
 and last ten lines of this poem are here for the first 
 time printed, this piece is headed, " An answeare to 
 on that writ against Healths." It may have been 
 directed against Prynne, who in 1628 published 
 Healthes : Sicknesse. Or A Compendious And brief e 
 Discourse; prouing the drinking and pledging of 
 Healthes, to be Sinfull, and utterly Unlawfull tmto 
 Christians. 
 
 Cf. Fuller, " David's Heinous Sin," st. 27— 
 
 '• My prayers for friends' prosperity and wealth 
 Shall ne'er be wanting ; but if I refuse 
 To hurt myself by drinking others' health, 
 O, let ingenuous natures me excuse. 
 If men bad manners this esteem, then I 
 Desire to be esteem'd unmannerly. 
 That to live well will suffer wine to die.*' 
 
 OF MY LADY ISABELLA, &C. 
 
 This lady was Lady Isabella Rich, daughter of the 
 Earl of Holland, afterwards married to Sir James 
 Thynne of Longleat. . She was the subject of much 
 scandal in her day, and Dorothy Osborne, writing to 
 Sir W. Temple, says, "But my Lady Isabella, that 
 speaks, and looks and sings and plays and all so 
 prettily, why cannot I say that she is free from faults 
 as her sister believes her ? " 
 
 OF MRS. ARDEN. 
 
 Fenton suggests that this lady may have been a 
 Maid of Honour or a Gentlewoman of the Bed- 
 chamber to Henrietta Maria, and the same who is 
 
314 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 mentioned as having taken part in Montague's 
 Shepherd's Paradise. Cf. Marvell, "The Fait 
 Singer. " 
 
 OF THE MARRIAGE OF THE DWARFS. 
 This poem, which appears in W. R. 1640, headed 
 " On the two Dwarfs that were marryed at Court, not 
 long before Shrovetide," celebrates the marriage of 
 Richard Gibson and Anne Shepherd, each of whom 
 was three feet ten inches high. Charles I. and his 
 Queen were present at the wedding, and the latter 
 appears to have promised the bride a diamond ring, 
 which, however, she never received. Richard 
 Gibson was page to the King. Under Franz Cleyn 
 he attained considerable success in painting, and 
 taught Queen Anne and her sister. He died July 23, 
 1690, in the 75th year of his age ; his widow survived 
 till 1709, when she was 89 years old. 
 
 THE FALL. 
 
 P g6,Il. 15-16.— Cf. Oldham, "The Dream"— 
 
 " So heretofore were the first Lovers laid 
 Oq the same Turf of which themselves were made." 
 
 P. 96, //. 23-4.— Cf. Ayres, "On the Death of 
 Cynthia's Horse " — 
 
 " A Heaven of Beauty overpressed thy Back, 
 This might have made Alcides shoulders crack, 
 And Atlas truckled under sucK a weight." 
 
 OF SYLVIA. 
 
 P. 97, /. I. Cf.— Horace, Odes iv. 13. 1.— 
 " Audivere, Lyce, Di mea vota." 
 
 THE BUD. 
 
 Printed in fV, R., 1640, and Ayres and Dialogues, 
 1653- 
 
NOTES. 315 
 
 P. gS, /. 8. — D'Israeli omitted to notice this line 
 in discussing the meaning and use of purpureus and 
 purple in the Curiosities of Literature, q. v. 
 
 P, 98, /. 14. — The text of this line is unsatisfactory. 
 In W. R. the passage runs — 
 
 " And if loose breath so much can doj 
 It may as well inform of love." 
 
 The verb "inform" is used by Waller (see p. 77, 
 1. 1 1, and p. 78, 1. 24), and Hammond [Poems, By 
 W. H., 165s) has 
 
 " For lamely would the Will's bright Chariot move^ 
 If not infonn'd by friendly heat of Love." 
 
 One would have preferred inform'd, if it had not 
 been corrected in the Errata of the edition of 1682 : 
 " in forms of love," i.e., constrained into the language 
 of love, affords perhaps some contrast to "out loose 
 breath." 
 
 ON THE DISCOVERY OF A LADY'S PAINTING. 
 
 In IV. R., 1640, " On a patch'd up Madam." 
 
 OF LOVING AT FIRST SIGHT. 
 
 Printed in W. R., 1640, where it immediately 
 follows the preceding poem, and is headed " The 
 Reply on the Contrary " ; it also appears in Francis 
 Beaumont's Poems, 1653, signed Tho. Batt. 
 
 P. 100, //. 3-4.— In W. R.— 
 
 " I now no painted colours find. 
 But settled stand upon the shore," 
 
 "Snatched from myself," from Horace, Odes iv. 
 13, 20. — "Quae me surpuerat roihi." 
 
3i6 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 THE SELF-BANISHED. 
 
 W. R., 1640, " The Melancholy Lover: " it forms 
 the beginning of the patchwork poem referred to in 
 the- note on p. 83, 11. 6-1 1: also printed in Ayrei and 
 Dialogues, 1653. 
 
 TO A FRIEND, &C. 
 
 W. R., 1640, " The Variable Lover ; or a Reply 
 to the Melancholy Lover.'' Robert Keck says this 
 poem is addressed to " Mr. Alexander Hambden, 
 a cousin of the Author." Keck appears to have 
 contemplated an edition of Waller, and has left 
 behind him a copy of the edition of 1705 with MS. 
 notes, which is now in the Dyce Collection at South 
 Kensington. 
 
 TO ZELINDA. 
 
 In the edition of 1645 this poem is headed 
 " Palamede to Zelinde. Ariana, lib. 6"; it had appeared 
 in W. R., 1640, as "The Ladyes Slave to his 
 Mistresse." In one of the tales added in the 1639 
 edition of the " Ariane'' of Des Marets, Zelinde, in 
 answer to Palamede, expresses her determination to 
 wed none but a Prince. 
 
 TO A LADY SINGING A SONG OF HIS COMPOSING. 
 
 Ayres and Dialogites, " To the same Lady singing 
 the former Song," ue., "^^^lile I listen," &c. 
 
 P. loj, //. S-8. — It is impossible to arrive at the 
 origin of this figure; it occurs in a fragment of 
 " The Myrmidons " of ^schylus, where it is intro- 
 duced by the words, " i)s d'iarl niBop tuiv At^v<fTiK!iP 
 
NOTES. 3«7 
 
 Xo'7os," and Person, in his edition of the " Medea," 
 has collected instances of its use by other classical 
 authors. This is, I believe, its first appearance in 
 English poetry, though probably few who have ad- 
 mired Byron's well-known lines are aware of it. 
 Cf. K. Philips, " On Controversies in Religion " — 
 
 " And meets that Eagle's destiny, whose hreast 
 Felt the same shaft which his own feathers drest.'* 
 
 TO THE MUTABLE FAIR. 
 
 In W. R., 1640, this follows " Fairest piece," 
 &c., and is headed " The Reply " ; it was also 
 printed in Francis Beaumont's Poems, 1653. 
 
 P. 108, //. 55-56.— Cf, p. 104, 11. 39-40. "Ca- 
 moens, speaking of the voyages of the Argonauts and 
 of Ulysses, says that the undertakings of the Portu- 
 guese shall give credit to all those fables in sur- 
 passing them." — Bayle, iv. 84. 
 
 TO CHLORIS. 
 
 In the edition 6f 1645 these verses were headed 
 " To Chloris uppon a favour receaved." Fenton had 
 seen a copy of an old edition in which there was a 
 note that Mr. Waller said this poem was " supposi- 
 titious " ; he was unable to reject it, and could only 
 suppose that the poet '■ wrote it when he was young, 
 and afterwards was too delicate to own it under the 
 title which it bears in the first impression " ; it 
 appears in Ayres and Dialogues, vol. ii., 1655, headed 
 " To a Lady, more affable siijce the war began " ! 
 
3i8 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 CHLORIS AND HYLAS. 
 
 In W. R., 1640, " On the approaching Spring." 
 P. 114, //. 1-2. — Cf. Pope, "Spring," 25-26. 
 
 *' Why sit we mute, when early linnets sing. 
 When warbling Philomel salutes the spring ? " 
 
 IN ANSWER OF SIR JOHN SUCKLING'S VERSES. 
 
 P. 117, /. 28.— Cf. Oldham, "A fragment of 
 Petronius paraphras'd " — 
 
 " I hate Fruition, now 'ds past, 
 'Tis all but nastiness at best ; 
 The homeliest thing that man can do." 
 
 ON A BREDE OF DIVERS COLOURS. 
 
 \n W. R., 1640, "On a brede of divers colours, 
 woven by four Maids of Honour, and presented to 
 the Queen on New Year's Day last. " 
 
 P. 121, //. s-6.— Cf. p. 242, 11. 11-12. 
 
 TO CHLORIS. 
 
 These lines, after appearing in the edition of 1645, 
 were, for some reason, omitted from all the other 
 editions published during Waller's life. 
 
 BEHOLD THE BRAND OF BEAUTY TOSSED! 
 
 Printed in Francis Beaumont's Poems, 1653. 
 
 WHILE I LISTEN TO THY VOICE. 
 
 Ayres and Dialogues, 1653. 
 
 GO, LOVELY ROSE ! 
 
 W. R., 1640, "On the Rose." Ayres and 
 Dialogues, vol. ii., 1655. 
 
NOTES. 319 
 
 Cf. Pope, " Spring," 61 etseq. in the original MS. — 
 " Go flow'ry wreath, and let ray Sylvia know. 
 Compared to thine how bright her beauties show ; 
 Then die ; and dying, teach the lovely maid 
 How soon the brightest beauties are decayed." 
 
 The above seem to be a direct imitation of Waller's 
 lines, but as has been pointed out (Notes and Queries, 
 Sth series, xi. 275), the simile was so common in the 
 sixteenth and seventeenth centuries " that it would 
 be almost impossible to say who did not use it. 
 Among the best known are Spenser, Faerie Queene, 
 Bk. ii. 12. 74-75. Fairfax, Tasso, xvi. 14-15. 
 Giles Fletcher, Christ's Victorie. Fanshawe's transl. 
 Pastor Fido, and again in Additional Poems. Samuel 
 Daniel, Description of Beauty translated out oj Marino, 
 and again in Sonnet to Delia. Stanley, Time Re- 
 covered. Harrington, Orlando Furioso, Bk. i. 42-43, 
 It is used by Erasmus in his Colloquies more than 
 once, and is to be found in Ausonius, Catullus, (both 
 quoted by Burton in his Anatomy) and the Book of 
 Wisdom. It is also more or less closely followed by 
 Chaucer, Drummond, Cleveland, Prior, &c." To 
 the above may be added, Robert Chester, and, 
 perhaps best known of all, Herrick. 
 Kirke White added — 
 
 " Yet, though thou fade, 
 
 From thy dead leaves let fragrance rise ; 
 
 And teach the maid 
 
 That goodness Time's rude hand defies, 
 
 That Virtue lives when Beauty dies." 
 Lines, which, in Southey's opinion. Waller might 
 have written if he had pursued the subject in this 
 vein. 
 
320 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 UNDER A lady's PICTURE. 
 
 W. R., 1640, " To be ingraven under the Queen's 
 Picture." Lines 1-2 are here printed for the first 
 time from a common-place book of Edmund Waller, 
 the son of the poet, now in the possession of Mr. 
 Waller; there the heading is, "This was written, 
 under my Lady Speke's Picture." 
 
 WRITTEN IN MY LADY SPEKE'S SINGING-BOOK. 
 
 These lines, printed here for the first time, are 
 taken from the common-place book mentioned above. 
 See note on " Epitaph on Sir George Speke." 
 
 TO ONE MARRIED TO AN OLD MAN. 
 
 W. R., 1640, " To the wife being marryed to that 
 old man" (referring to another epigram which 
 precedes). 
 
 AN EPIGRAM ON A PAINTED LADY, &C. 
 
 This appeared in the edition of 1645, and was not 
 reprinted during Waller's life. 
 
 " P. 131, //. 1-2. — Cf. Vaughan, Upon Mr. Fletchers 
 Playes. 
 
 *' For thou hast drain'd Ipvention, and he 
 That writes hereafter, doth but pillage thee." 
 
 P. 132, /. 8 and 1. 12. — Melantius and Aspasia are 
 characters in "The Maid's Tragedy," which Waller 
 "altered." While all the critics agree in regarding 
 "The Maid's Tragedy" as the joint production of 
 the two dramatists, some have ascribed more than 
 three-fourths of it to Beaumont. 
 
NOTES. 321 
 
 VERSES TO DR. GEORGE ROGERS, &C. 
 
 These lines first appeared with the Oratio In Gym- 
 nasia Patavino Habita Prid. Cal. Mail An. 1646, 
 &c., a Georgia Rogers Anglo, Docturie gradu suscepto, 
 in what the bookseller calls Auctarium sive super- 
 pondium hoc poeticum, given him by Dr. Downes, 
 F. C. P. L. There are several other copies of verses, 
 all but Waller's, in Latin, among them one signed 
 loan. Euelinus Anglus. Dr. Rogers was incorporated 
 in the University of Oxford, April 14, 1647, and 
 afterwards became President of the College of 
 Physicians. 
 
 TO MY LADY MORTON, &C. 
 
 This poem first appeared as a broadside, London, 
 Printed for Henry Herringman on the Lower walk 
 of the New Exchange. 1661. It was doubtless 
 written, as it purports to have been, in France, and 
 was printed by Waller when the prophecy contained 
 in 11. 45-46 had been fulfilled. I suppose it is in 
 connection with this poem that Robert Wild speaks 
 of Waller as "Great Poet and true Prophet too." 
 Ann, Countess of Morton, was the daughter of Sir 
 Edward Villiers, half-brother of George, first Duke of 
 Buckingham, She married Robert Douglas, Lord 
 Dalkeith, who, on the death of his father, became 
 Earl of Morton. The story of her flight, disguised as 
 a French servant, from Oatlands to France, in 1646, 
 with the Princess Henrietta, is well known. She 
 died in December, 1654. 
 
 P. 13s, //. 31-32.— Cf. p. 200, 1. s. 
 
 Y 
 
322 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 TO SIR WILLIAM DAVENANT, &C. 
 
 These lines first appeared in a little i2mo book 
 published in Paris in 1650, A Discourse upon Gondi- 
 hert. An Heroick Poem Written by Sir William 
 jyAvenant With an Answer to it by Mr. Hoibs, 
 they were reprinted with both the editions of " Gondi- 
 bert " published in 1651. The heading at first was, 
 "To Sir William D'Avenant, Upon his two first 
 books of Gondibert, finished before his Voyage to 
 America" — the words "Written in France," were 
 substituted for the last six of this title, in the " 1664" 
 and other editions of Waller's Poems. Sir William 
 Davenant (l6o5-l668), his "Gondibert," his mis- 
 fortunes, and the sport he made for the wits of his time 
 are all too well known to need particular mention 
 here. He had been in trouble in connection with the 
 Army Plot in 1 641, and had fled to France, but 
 afterwards returned to England, and was, on 
 March 8, 1644, accused by the Parliament of High 
 Treason. He formed the design of conveying a party 
 of artificers, chiefly weavers, from France to Virginia, 
 but the vessel in which he had embarked having been 
 captured by one of the ships in the service of the 
 English Parliament, he was confined in Cowes Castle, 
 and afterwards in the Tower. 
 
 A PANEGYRIC TO MY LORD TROTECTOE, &C. 
 There were two editions of this poem in 1655 — 
 (i) A I Panegyrick | To | My Lord Protector, ' 
 Of I The present Greatness and joynt Inn | terest of 
 His Highness, and this Nation. | By E. W. Esq. | 
 London, | Printed for Richard Lowndes at the White 
 Lyon in | S. Pauls Church-yard, neerthe little North- 
 
NOTES. 323 
 
 dore. I 1655. Quarto. A 3 (p. l)toB3. Title and 
 five leaves, blank leaf besides at each end. 
 
 (ii) A I Panegyrick | To My | Lord Protector, [ By 
 A I Gentleman I That | Loves the Peace, Union, and 
 Prosperity | Of The | English Nation. | Claudian : 
 &c. I Gaudet enim virtus testes sibi jungere Musas, | 
 Carmen amatquisquis Carmine dignagerit. [London, | 
 Printed by Thomas Newcomb, in Thames-street | 
 over against Eaynards-Castle, 1655. Small folio. 
 Title and three leaves. 
 
 In spite of the hint which is given as to the author- 
 ship, which one would rather have expected to find in 
 a second impression, the text leaves no doubt that 
 (i) is the first, possibly pirated, edition. I only know 
 of the existence of two copies of (ii), one in the 
 Bodleian, and one in the library of Mr, Buxton 
 Forman, which he very kindly allowed me to collate. 
 I have adopted the text of this edition. The ' ' Pane- 
 gyric" was not reprinted until 1690, by Bennet and 
 by Tonson, whose editors appear to have used MS. 
 copies, as there are variations, verbal and unimportant, 
 from the texts of the Quarto and Folio in both their 
 editions. 
 
 No one probably would see these lines sooner than 
 the person to whom they were addressed, and the 
 letter from Cromwell to Waller (June 13, 1655) which 
 I have printed in the Introduction would seem to 
 show that they had not been written or circulated 
 in MS. long before the date of their publication, — 
 ("May 31 " MS. note on the copy of (i) in the British 
 Museum), — but I am inclined to think that part at 
 least of the poem was in circulation nearly two years 
 
 Y 2 
 
324 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 before, for in 1653 appeared " The Incomparable 
 Poem Gondibert Vindicated," &c., where these lines 
 occur — 
 
 "You think they feign, that is they lie. 
 That spake of Gondibert so high. 
 If that their Verses were much taller 
 Walter hath since out-Gondid Waller.** 
 
 The reference can hardly be to anything but 
 the "Panegyric," (I know of nothing written by 
 Waller between this and the preceding poem), — 
 which is introduced, not as Mr. Gosse supposes, on 
 account of its "pompous rhetoric," but the unworthi- 
 ness of its subject. It is possible that Waller re-cast 
 and made additions to the poem, as he appears to 
 have done to " Instructions to a Painter," and that it 
 was not sent to Cromwell till it was printed. 
 
 P. 138, //. 9-10.— C£ Fairfax, "Godfrey of 
 BuUoigne," iii. 52 — 
 
 *' Above the Waves as Neptune lift his Eyes, 
 To chide the Winds that Trojan Ships oppressed." 
 
 P. 139, //. 39-40.— Cf. Marvell, "An Horatian 
 Ode," &c., 97-98— 
 
 " What may not then our Isle presume, 
 While Victoiy his crest does plume ?" 
 
 P. 142, /. 100.— Cf. Pope, "Windsor Forest, "400— 
 
 "And seas but join the regions they divide." 
 
 P. 142, /. 105. — The last great sea-fight between 
 Blake and Tromp, in which the latter was killed, 
 July 29, 1653. 
 
NOTES. 32s 
 
 P. 145. ^^- 165-68.— Cf. Fairfax, "Godfrey of 
 Bulloigne," viii. 83 — 
 
 " So, when a lion shakes his dreadful mane, 
 And beats his tail, with courage proud, and wroth, 
 If his commander come, who first took pain 
 To tame his youth, his lofty crest down go'th." 
 
 P. 145, /. 175. — Dorothy Osborne, writing to Sir 
 William Temple in 1653, says : " My Lord Saye, I 
 am told, has writ a romance since his retirement in 
 the Isle of Lundy, and Mr. Waller, they say, is 
 making one of our wars, which, if he does not 
 mingle with a great deal of pleasing fiction, cannot 
 be very diverting, sure the subject is so sad." It is 
 possible this may only refer to the present poem, 
 there is no trace of any poem by Waller on the Civil 
 War. 
 
 TO MY WORTHY FRIEND MR. WASE. 
 
 These lines first appeared with Wase's translation of 
 the Cynegetkon of Gratius Faliscus, 1654. At the end 
 of the " Preface to the Reader," one Mr. Robert 
 Creswel, addressing Wase, and speaking of Gratius, 
 says : 
 
 " One who has all the right that man can doe, 
 You set forth him, and noble Waller you." 
 
 Christopher Wase, Fellow of King's College, Cam- 
 bridge, was the author of a translation of the Electra 
 and several other works. He dedicated his transla- 
 tion of Gratius to Lord Herbert, son of the Earl of 
 Pembroke, to whom he was tutor. The following 
 letter from Waller to an unknown correspondent was 
 
326 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 printed by Mr. Hazlitt in his Collections and Notes: — 
 "April 1652. S' my noble frend the Earle of 
 Deuenshire being now about to the send the younge 
 Lord his sonn into the world hath asked my aduise 
 concerning a gouemer for him, w<* occasion I tooke 
 to comend our good frend IW Wase, speaking so well 
 (that is so deseruedly) of him, that my Lord hath a 
 great desire to see and conferr wth him, & to that 
 end will beare his charges to Latimers in Bucking- 
 hamshire, where his Ldp now is. Truly (S'') if 
 M' Wase be not prouided of some other very good 
 imployment, he can not come into a nobler family in 
 England, nor fynde better entertaiiunent any where. 
 This is the opinion of, S'', y"^ obedient Seruant, 
 "WaUer." 
 
 AD COMITEM MONUMETENSEM, &a 
 
 These lines were first printed with the Earl of 
 Monmouth's translation of Cardinal Bentivoglio's 
 History of the Wars of Flmiders, published in 1654. 
 Henry Carey, Earl of Monmouth, was born about 
 1595, and died June 13, 1661 : he was the author of 
 several translations from the French and Italian, 
 upon wliich he was complimented by Sir John 
 Suckling, Sir William Davenaut, and other poets of 
 his day. 
 
 TO HIS WORTHY FKIEND, MASTER EVELYN. 
 
 These lines are here printed as they appear in the 
 " 1664," and other editions of Waller's Poems : they 
 were first printed in An Essay on the first book of T. 
 
NOTES. 327 
 
 Lucretius Cams, &'c. Interpreted and made English 
 Verse by J. Evelyn, Esq: • • • London: 1656., in a 
 slightly different form — 
 
 *■' Lucretiui with a stork-like fate, 
 Born and translated in a state, 
 Comes to proclaim in English Verse 
 No Monarch Rules the Universe ; 
 But chance and Atomes make this All 
 In Order Democratical, 
 Where Bodies freely run their course. 
 Without design, or Fate, or Force. 
 And this in such a strain he sings, 
 As if his Muse with Angels wings 
 Had soar'd beyond our utmost sphere 
 And other Worlds discover'd there ; 
 For his immortal boundless wit 
 To Nature does no bounds permit ; 
 But boldly," &c. 
 
 There are also the following minor variations — 1. 
 13, they were for she was, 1. 14 narrow for moderate, 
 1. 21, A Tongue too narrow for Too weak, too 
 narrow. 
 
 P. 149, //. 17-22. — Cf. Lucretius, i. 135-38. 
 
 P. 150, /. 38. — Cf. Lucretius, iv. i-2. 
 
 OF A WAR WITH SPAIN, AND A FIGHT AT SF.A. 
 
 This poem was, as far as I can discover, first 
 printed, in folio, with the poem on St. James's Park, 
 (q.v.') where it is headed, " Of our late War with 
 Spaine and first Victory at sea near St. Lugar." 
 Spain having declared war against England, Feb. 16, 
 1656, a fleet was sent to the Mediterranean under the 
 command of Blake and Montague : several projects 
 
328 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 for its employment were formed and abandoned, and 
 it remained for some months inactive, before Cadiz. 
 On September 8, Captain Richard Stayner in the 
 Speaker, going with two other vessels to a neighbour- 
 ing bay to take in water, fell in with eight galleons, 
 all of which he either captured or destroyed. His 
 exploit forms the subject of Waller's lines. 
 
 P. 153, /. 49. — Fenton refers this to Cicero, de 
 Divinat. II. — " Omnesne qui Cannensi pugna ceci- 
 derunt, uno astro fuerint? Exitus quidem omnium 
 unus et idem fuit." 
 
 P. 154, /. 77. — The Marquis of Badajos, Viceroy 
 of Mexico. 
 
 P. IS4, /. 82.— Cf. Fairfax, "Godfrey of Bul- 
 loigne," XX. st. 98 — 
 
 " And, for he could not save her, with her dy'd." 
 
 P. 15s, /. 89. — ^The Marquis, with his wife and 
 eldest daughter, perished in the flames ; his two sons 
 and two younger daughters, together with about a 
 hundred of the crews of the galleons, were rescued 
 by the English. 
 
 P. 15s, //. 95-96.— Cf. "The Maid's Tragedy 
 Altered " — 
 
 " How frail is Man ! how quickly changed are 
 Our wrath and fury to a loyal care." 
 
 P. 155, /. loi. — In the edition of 1711, this poem, 
 faced by a portrait of "Generall Mountague, since 
 Earle of Sandwich," is headed, "Of a War with 
 Spain, and Fight at Sea, by General Montague. In 
 
NOTES. 329 
 
 the year 1656." As a matter of fact, Montague was 
 not even present at the engagement, though he was, 
 upon his arrival at Portsmouth, entrusted with the 
 care of the prisoners and treasure, and afterwards 
 conducted them to London, where he received the 
 thanks of the House of Commons. Stayner, the real 
 hero, for his share in this, and in Blake's victory 
 off Santa Cruz (April 20, 1657), was knighted by 
 Cromwell. Cf. Marvell, "On the Victory obtained 
 by Blake," &c., 11. 117-18— 
 
 " Bold Stayner leads ; this fleet's designed by fate 
 To give him laurel, as the last did plate," 
 
 TO HIS WORTHY FRIEND SIR THOMAS HIGGONS, &C. 
 
 Sir Thomas Higgons was born at Westbury, in 
 Shropshire, in 1624; he married (1st) Elizabeth, 
 widow of Robert Devereux, 3rd Earl of Essex (he 
 delivered an oration at her funeral, Sept. 16, 1656), 
 and (2nd) in 1661, Bridget, daughter of Sir Bevil 
 Grenville. He was knighted June 17, 1663, and 
 after having been employed in various diplomatic 
 missions, he died of apoplexy, Nov. 24, 169 1, and 
 was buried in Winchester Cathedral. He published, 
 besides "The Venetian Triumph," a "Pariegyric to 
 the King on his Restoration," 1660, and a " History 
 of Isuf Bassa," 1684. Waller's lines were printed 
 with " A Prospective of the Naval Triumph of the 
 Venetians over the Turk. To Signor Pietro Liberi 
 That Renowned and famous Painter. By Gio. 
 Francesco Busenello. London, &c. 1658 " ; they 
 did not appear among his poems till 1682. 
 
330 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 P. 156, /. I. — "The winged lion," the arms of 
 Venice. 
 
 PART OF THE FOURTH BOOK OF VIRGIL, 
 TRANSLATED. 
 
 " The Passion of Dido for Aeneas as it is incompar- 
 ably exprest in the fourth book of Virgil, translated 
 by Edmund Waller and Sidney Godolphin, Esqrs." 
 1658. Reprinted 1679. Waller's portion was first 
 included among his poems in the "1664" edition. 
 John Boys, in the preface to his " Aeneas His 
 Descent into Hell," 1661, says, " The fourth (whose 
 subject is the passion of Dido for Aeneas) hath been 
 equally blest, as having been made speak English by 
 the united Studies of two Gentlemen no less eminent 
 than the former [Sandys]. I wish that the whole 
 Aeneis had learn'd our modern dialect from such 
 excellent masters, " 
 
 P. 160, /. 86.— Cf. Pope, "Eloisa to Abelard," 
 166— 
 
 " A death-like silence, and a dread repose." 
 
 UPON THE DEATH OF THE LORD PROTECTOR. 
 
 These lines were first printed as a small-folio 
 broad-side, \Ufon the late \ Storme, \ and of the 
 death \ of his | Highnesse j Ensuing the same, \ By 
 Mr. Waller. London Printed for H.H.'\ and after- 
 wards with Dryden's and Sprat's poems on the same 
 occasion — [Three Poems \ Upon the Death of his 
 
NOTES. 331 
 
 late \ Higkmsse \ Oliver \ Lord Protector | Of \ 
 England, Scotland and \ Ireland. Written \ 
 
 I Mr. Edm. Waller. 
 By i Mr. Jo. Dryden. 
 
 I Mr. Sprat, of Oxford. 
 
 London, \ Printed by William Wilson, and are to be 
 sold in I Well-yard neer Little St. Bartholomew's \ 
 Hospitall. 1659. Title, and B—F 2 in fours. Re- 
 printed in 1682, Three Poems Upon the Death of the 
 Late Usurper Oliver Cromwell &'c.'] 
 
 P. 162, //. 9-12. — Fenton quotes from Hercules 
 (Etceus, 1638-42 — 
 
 " Aggeritur omnis silva, et alternae trabes 
 In astra toUunt Herculi angustum rogum : 
 Rapit alta flammis pinus.et robur tenax, 
 Et brevior ilex silva : cantexit pyram 
 Populea silva, frondis Herculea; nemus." 
 
 P. 162, //. 14-16. — Dunkirk was ceded to England 
 as a result of the victory of the combined armies 
 of England and France over the Spaniards, June 17, 
 1658. 
 
 TO THE KING, UPON HIS MAJESTY'S HAPPY RETURN. 
 
 First edition — To the \ King, \ Upon \ His Majesty's \ 
 Happy Return. \ After the last line of the poem, 
 By Ed. Waller Esq. \ Printed for Richard Marriot, 
 in St. Dunstans Church-yard, Fleetstreet. Title, 
 and three leaves, small folio. MS. note on the title 
 of the copy in the British Museum, June <jth. 
 
 P. 164, //. 13-14. — Fenton sees in these lines a 
 reference to the death of William Oughtred, Rector 
 
332 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 of Aldbury, the great mathematician, who, being 
 upwards of eighty years of age, expired in a transport 
 of joy upon hearing of the Restoration. 
 
 P. 165, //. 41-42. — Cf. Dryden, " Astrsea Redux," 
 76-77— 
 
 " He made all countries where he came his own. 
 And, viewing monarchs' secret arts of sway," — 
 
 P. 165, //. 55-56. — Upon the medal struck in 
 honour of the birth of Charles II. was inscribed 
 HACTENUS . ANGLORUM . NULLI . round the four 
 shields of (i) France and England, (ii) Scotland, 
 (iii) France, and (iv) Ireland, he being the first 
 Prince, bom in Enland, entitled to bear these arms. 
 
 P. 166, //. 83-84. — Two medals were struck at the 
 Restoration, one inscribed "Sicut Argentum Pro- 
 basti Me," and on the reverse, "Magna Opera 
 Domini"; the other, "Carolus II. Rex.," and on 
 the reverse, " Magnalia Dei." 
 
 P. 166, //. 87-88.— Cf. Beaumont and Fletcher, 
 " Philaster," act iii. sc. i. 
 
 *' The People 
 Against their nature are all bent before him : 
 And, like a field of standing com that's mov'd 
 With a stiff gale, their heads bow all one way." 
 
 P. 166, //. 95-98.— Cf. Oldham, "To the Memory 
 of Mr. C. Morwent" — 
 
 *' Those Indians who their Kings by Tortures choose. 
 Subjecting all the Royal Issue to that Test, 
 Could ne'er thy Sway refuse." 
 
 P. 167, //. 107-108.— Cf. " The Maid's Tragedy 
 Altered " — 
 
 '* Justice and Bounty in a Prince are things 
 That Subjects make as happy as their Kings." 
 
NOTES. 333 
 
 ON ST. James's park, &c. 
 
 A I Poem I OH 1 St. James's ] Park | As lately im- 
 proved by his I Majesty. | Written by Edmund 
 Waller, Esq ; | London, | Printed for Gabriel Bedel 
 and Thomas Collins | at the Middle-Temple-Gate. 
 1 66 1. Title and seven leaves, small folio. On p. il 
 begins, "Of our late war with Spain," &c. ; at the 
 end, " The Reader is desired to take notice that a. 
 false Copy of these verses on St. James's Park was 
 surreptitiously and very imperfectly printed in one 
 sheet, without the Author's knowledge and consent, 
 several lines being there left out." I have not met 
 with any traces of this surreptitious copy. 
 
 P. l68, //. 1-3.— Cf. Pope, "Windsor Forest,";, 8— 
 
 " The groves of Eden vanished now so long, 
 Live in description." 
 
 P. 168, /. 6. — Among the improvements was the 
 introduction into the Park of a stream of water from 
 the Thames. 
 
 P. 170, //. 57-66. — The reference is to the game of 
 " paille-maille," a favourite diversion of Charles II. 
 
 P. 171, /. 87.— Cardinal Wolsey. 
 
 P. 171, /. 95.— Cf. Addison, "The Campaign" — 
 " To malce the series of his toils complete." 
 
 P. 171, //. 101-104.— Cf. Cowley, "Ode to Mr. 
 
 Hobbes "— 
 
 " So contraries on .Etna's top conspire ; 
 Here hoary frosts ; and by them breaks out fire : 
 A secure peace the faithful neighbours keep ; 
 Th' embolden'd snow next to the flame does sleep," 
 
 and Claudian, " Raptus Proserp." I. 164-68. 
 
334 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 P. 172, //. 109-10. — At the Coronation of Charles 
 II. a medal was struck, upon the reverse of which 
 the King was represented as a shepherd tending his 
 sheep ; the inscription was " Dixi . Custodiam . xxiii . 
 April . 1661 . ", and on the edge, " Coronate . 
 Pastore , Ovat . Ovile ." 
 
 P. 172, //. 128-30. — ^This star, the references to 
 which are numerous, was observed about noon, when 
 Charles I. was returning from St. Paul's after having 
 given thanks for the birth of his son. 
 
 TO THE QUEEN, UPON HER MAJESTY'S BIRTHDAY. 
 
 Catherine of Braganza was bom Nov. 14, 1638, 
 but her birthday was observed in England upon the 
 25th. These lines were written in 1663. " Orind.-i " 
 (Mrs. Philips), who had herself written a poem on 
 the same occasion, characterizes them as the worst 
 verses that ever fell from Waller's pen. 
 
 P. \Tii„ II. 33-36.— Cf. Fairfax, "Godfrey of 
 BuUoigne," xx. 129 — 
 
 " And her fair face, fair bosom, he bedews 
 With tears ; tears of remorse, of ruth, of sorrow : 
 As the pale rose her colour lost renews. 
 With the fresh drops fall'n from the silver morrow : 
 So, she revives ; and cheeks empurpled shows. 
 Moist with their own tears, and with tears they borrow." 
 
 P. 1 74, Nunc itaque, &c. — This quotation concluded 
 the edition of 1664. 
 
 TO A FAIR LADY PLAYING WITH A SNAKE. 
 Keck says, " 'Twas formerly not unusual among 
 our English ladies for coolness in y» hot weather 
 to carry a snake in their sleeve," 
 
NOTES. 335 
 
 INSTRUCTIONS TO A PAINTER. 
 
 In the original edition of this poem, after the title 
 as given in the text, " Ut, qui vos Imperatores 
 vestros, & Anglorum Res gestas semper ornavit, 
 Humanitate vestrS. levatus, potius quam acerbitate 
 violatus esse videaturt. Cicero pro Arch. Poet. By 
 Edm. Waller Esq ; London, Printed for Henry 
 Herringman, at the Anchor on the Lower Walk of 
 the New Exchange. 1666." Small foho, title and 
 eight leaves, A 2 — E. 
 
 Waller, no doubt, derived the idea of this form of 
 composition from the poem of Businello (see p. 156), 
 and he himself was imitated by Denham, Marvell, 
 and others, to such an extent that, in 1680, the writer 
 of a broadside was provoked to revolt against the 
 practice — 
 
 " Each puny brother of the rhyming trade 
 At every turn implores the Painter's aid. 
 And fondly enamour'd of his own foul brat. 
 Cries in an ecstacy, Paint this, Draw that ! " 
 
 For the events celebrated in this poem, cf. Dryden, 
 "Annus Mirabilis." 
 
 P. 176, /. 7. — The star appeared Dec. 24, 1664. 
 
 P. 177, /. 34. — Alluding to the orders sent to de 
 Ruyter to return with the Smyrna and East India 
 ships by the coasts of Norway and Denmark. 
 
 P. 177, //. 39-41.— The Dutch Bordeaux fleet, to- 
 gether with other merchant-ships, to the number of 
 more than a hundred and thirty, was captured and 
 condemned by the English in Nov., 1664, before the 
 declaration of war, while Opdam was lying at Goree. 
 
336 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 P. 178, //. 49-50. — In Oct., 1664, Sir Thomas 
 Allen concluded a peace with the Algerines. 
 
 P. 178, /. 64. —The MS. in the copy which be- 
 longed to Col. Cunningham, to which I have before 
 alluded, ends with this line. 
 
 P. 179, /. 94. — The English Hamburg fleet, 
 missing a vessel which had been sent to warn them of 
 the departure of the Duke of York for the coast of 
 England, set sail, and was nearly all captured by the 
 Dutch. 
 
 P. 181, /. 138. — Opdam commanded the combined 
 fleets of Holland and Denmark and defeated the 
 Swedes in the Sound, in 1658. 
 
 P. 181, /. 141. — Cf. Dryden, "Annus Mirabilis," 
 St. 59- 
 
 " On high-raised decks the haughty Belgians ride." 
 
 P. 181, /. 147.— The Earl of Falmouth, I-ord 
 Muskerry, and Mr. Boyle, second son of the Earl of 
 Burlington. 
 
 P. 183, /. 213, — Cf. Dryden, "Annus Mirabilis," 
 St. 280 — "And eager flames give on to storm the 
 rest,'' and "Indian Emperor," act ii., sc. 3, "The 
 enemy gives on, by fury led." 
 
 P. 184, //. 237-40.— Cf. Fuller, "David's Heinous 
 Sin," St. 39— 
 
 "Were there not used, in the da3re of yore, 
 Enough men-murdering engines, but our age 
 Witty in wickedness, must make them more. 
 By new-found plots, man's malice to enrage ? 
 So that fire-spitting cannons to the cost 
 Of Christian blood, all valour have engross'd, 
 'yVhose finding makes that many a life is lost." 
 
NOTES. 337 
 
 UPON HER majesty's NEW BUILDINGS AT 
 SOMERSET HOUSE. 
 
 Henrietta Maria returned to England in December, 
 1660, and took up her residence at Somerset House, 
 which she enlarged and beautified. 
 
 Waller's lines first appeared as a folio broadside in 
 1 56s. 
 
 Cf. Cowley's poem on the same subject, and " The 
 Speech of Her Majesty the Queen Mother's Palace, 
 Upon the Reparation and Enlargement of it by Her 
 Majesty," 1665. 
 
 EPITAPH ON THE ONLY SON OF LORD ANDOVER. 
 
 The son of Viscount Andover (eldest son of the 
 Earl of Berkshire), for whom this epitaph was in- 
 tended, died in 1641, and was buried in New-Elm 
 Church, Oxfordshire. 
 
 TO MR. KILLIGREW, &C. 
 
 These lines, headed "Of Pandoras not being 
 approved upon the stage as a Tragedy, " were published 
 in 1665, with " Three Playes Written by Sir William 
 Killigrew, Vice-Chamberlain to Her Majesty the 
 Queen Consort.'' Sir William Kil'.igrew, the eldest 
 of the five sons of Sir Robert Killigrew, was born at 
 Ilanworth in 1605 ; he was governor of Pendennis 
 Castle, and commanded two troops of the King's 
 Guard throughout the Civil War ; at the Restoration 
 he became Gentleman-Usher to the King, and later, 
 Vice-Chamberlain to the Queen Consort. He died 
 in 1693. 
 
 z 
 
338 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 EPIGRAM UPON THE GOLDEN MEDAI.. 
 
 Frances Theresa, daughter of William Stuart, third 
 son of the first Lord Blantyre, sat to Roettier, the 
 medallist, as a model for Britannia. Pepys says (Feb. 
 25, 1667), "At my goldsmiths did observe the 
 King's new medal, where in little there is Mrs. 
 Stewart's face as well done as ever I saw anything in 
 my whole life I think ; and a pretty thing it is that 
 he should choose her face to represent Britannia by, " 
 
 Cf. Marvell, " Last Instructions to a Painter," 714, 
 "And female Stewart there rules the four seas," allud- 
 ing to the inscription " Quatuor Maria Vindico,'' 
 which surrounded the figure of Britannia. 
 
 OF A TREE CUT IN PAPER. 
 Lines 15-20 of this poem are supplied from a trans- 
 cript in Mr. Waller's possession, in which the title 
 is, ' ' On the Lady Isabella [Thynne's] cutting Trees 
 in Paper.' (See p. 90.) There is a note at the end of 
 the poem, " I had these verses from my Lady Long 
 in 1656. Her LaP had several other copies of Mr. 
 Waller's verses (of which Mr. Waller had not 
 duplicats) which she lent to the Dutches of Beaufort, 
 and were never return'd. Their friendship is now 
 broken : but I hope her Grace virill be so kind as to 
 grant transcripts of them upon yo reprinting of ye book. '' 
 The poem first appeared in the " 1668 " edition. 
 
 TO A LADY FROM WHOM HE RECEIVED THE 
 FOREGOING COPY, &C. 
 
 In the late Col. Cunningham's ccpy this was 
 headed, "To Mrs. Steward who brought him the 
 
NOTES. 339 
 
 verses he had lost, and was then sitting to Mr. Lilly 
 for her picture." 
 
 TO THE DUCHESS, WHEN HE PRESENTED THIS 
 BOOK TO HER ROYAL HIGHNESS. 
 
 These lines, headed " This Booke, never Dedicated 
 to any before humbly desires the Patronage of hir 
 R. Highness," are inscribed in a copy of the edition 
 of 1668, now in the British Museum. Mary of 
 Modena arrived in England Nov. 21, 1673, but as 
 this volume has also inscribed in it the lines on the 
 Death of the Duke of Cambridge, it was probably not 
 presented to her till after the event which they 
 commemorate. 
 
 TO THE DUCHESS OF ORLEANS. 
 
 The Duchess of Orleans, "la belle Henriette," 
 took leave of the Court at Dover, June 2, 1670, 
 returned to St. Cloud, and died on the 30th of the 
 same month. 
 
 TO A FRIEND OF THE AUTHOR, &C. 
 George, first Earl of Berkeley (1628-1698), pub- 
 lished ' ' Historical Applications and Occasional 
 Meditations Upon Several Subjects, Written by a 
 Person of Honour," in 1666. Waller's lines were 
 prefixed to a French translation of this work published 
 in the following year. 
 
 OF HBR ROYAL HIGHNESS, MOTHER TO THE 
 PRINCE OF 9RANGE. 
 
 These lines did not appear among Waller's poems 
 till 1686, when no doubt the title was added to them. 
 
 z 2 
 
340 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 Mary, Princess of Orange (born Nov. 4, 1631), died 
 Dec. 24, 1660, and Ann, Duchess of York, in 1671. 
 
 ON THE STATUE OF KING CHARLES I. 
 This statue was cast, about 1630, by Hubert Le 
 Soeur for the Lord Treasurer Weston, who intended 
 to set it up in his gardens at Roehampton. Before it 
 could be removed from the place, near the church in 
 Covent Garden, where it was cast, the Civil War 
 began, and the Parliament sold it lo John Rivett, a 
 brazier, with strict orders to break it up. Rivett is 
 said to have disposed of hundreds of knives, the 
 handles of which, he said, were made from the 
 bronze of the statue, but on May 16, 1660, the Earl 
 of Portland, the son of the Lord Treasurer, informed 
 the House of Lords tl}at he had discovered where the 
 statue was hid, and as he supposed it was his, he 
 asked that the Sheriff might serve a replevin, there 
 being no court of law to which he could resort ; as, 
 however, Rivett subsequently presented it to the 
 King, it may be inferred that his right was Tec(^pized, 
 It was set up in its present position in 1674. 
 
 EPITAPH ON COLONEL CHARLES CAVENDISH. 
 Charles Cavendish, second son of William, second 
 Earl of Devonshire, was born in London, May 20, 
 1620. After spending some time in travelling, and 
 in gaining military experience in Holland, he returned 
 to England in 1642, and at once b^an to distinguish 
 himself in the Civil War. He was slain in an 
 engagement at Gainsboftjugh, July 28, 1643, and 
 was buried at Newark ; his remains were removed 
 and laid by those of his mother at Derby, in 1675, 
 when this epitaph was probably written. 
 
NOTES. 341 
 
 THE TRIPLE COMBAT. 
 
 The Duchess of MaEarin arrived in England in 1675 = 
 she and the Duchess of Portsmouth are sufficiently 
 well known, but I am unable to identify Chloris, the 
 third combatant ; possibly the Duchess of Cleveland 
 may be meant. Evelyn speaks of seeing "the King 
 sitting and toying with his concubines, Portsmouth, 
 Cleveland, and Mazarin." 
 
 P. 205, /. 20. — The Duchess of Portsmouth was 
 bom in Lower Bretagne, which was known as " Little 
 Britain." 
 
 P. 206, /. 42. — Alluding to the ravages committed 
 by the French under Turenne in Alsace. 
 
 UPON OUR LATE LOSS OF THE DUKE OF 
 CAMBRIDGE. 
 Charles, Duke of Cambridge, the first son of the 
 Duke of York by Mary of Modena, was born Nov. 7, 
 1677, and died when he was about a month old. 
 
 OF THE LADA MARY, &C. 
 
 The Prince of Orange landed at Harwich, Oct. 9, 
 1677, and was married to Princess Mary on Nov. 4, 
 following. 
 
 TO THE PRINCE OF ORANGE. 
 
 This poem was first printed by Chalmers in has 
 edition of the British Poets, 1810. 
 
 ON THE DUKE OF MONMOUTH's EXPEDITION. 
 
 The expedition was rendered necessary by a rebel- 
 lion following on the murder of Archbishop Sharp, 
 May 3, 1679. The Duke gained a decisive victory over 
 the Covenanters at Bothwell-bridge, June 22, 1679. 
 
342 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 P. 213, //. 46 ad fin. — These lines are supplied from 
 the common-place hook of the poet's son. 
 
 UPON THE EARL Or ROSCOMMON'S TRANSLATION 
 OF HORACE. 
 
 These lines were published in 1680 with a transla- 
 tion of the "Ars Poetica " by Wentworlh Dillon, 
 fourth Earl of Roscommon. Lord Roscommon 
 (1633 ? -1685) w^s also the author of "An Essay upon 
 Translated Verse," and is distinguished as the first 
 critic who publicly praised " Paradise Lost." 
 
 P. 214, II- 7-8.— Cf. p. 224, U. 7-8. 
 
 P. 214, //. 11-12. — Cf. Pope, "Essay on Criti- 
 cism," 86-7. 
 
 " The winged courser, like a gen'rous horse. 
 Shows most true mettle when you check his course." 
 
 P. 215, //. 23-8.— Cf. p. 226, 11. 9-14. 
 
 OF AN ELEGY MADE BY MRS. WHARTON, &C. 
 
 Mrs. Wharton, the wife of Thomas, eldest son of 
 Philip, Lord Wharton, was daughter and co-heiress 
 with the Countess of Abingdon, of Sir Henry Lee of 
 Ditchley in Oxfordshire : her great-aunt was the Earl 
 of Rochester's mother. 
 
 TO MR. CREECH, &C. 
 
 Fenton says that this poem is not Waller's, but in 
 the Epistle Dedicatory to George Pitt, Esq. (2nd 
 edition of the translation of Lucretius), Creech says, 
 " But it would be improper to be my own trumpet, 
 and Mr. Waller, Mr. Evelyn, and a Thousand more 
 beside the publick approbation have freed me from 
 all the little disturbances of Cavils." Thomas Creech, 
 \flva. 1659), Fellow of Wadham College, Oxford, was 
 
ffOTES. 343 
 
 the author of translations of portions of Ovid, Juvenal, 
 Horace, &c ; he took orders in 1699, and was 
 presented by his college to the living of Welw5'n, in 
 Hertfordshire, but committed suicide in the following 
 year. 
 
 SUNG BV MRS. KNIGHT, &C. 
 
 The Queen was born on St. Catherine's Day, and 
 was frequently painted in the character of that Saint. 
 Mrs. Knight is frequently mentioned by Pepys and 
 Evelyn, and " Orinda " tells " Poliarchus " she would 
 be more proud to have one assurance from him, than 
 to have her verses " composed by Will. La was, were 
 he still alive, and sung by Mrs. Knight." 
 
 OP TEA, COMMENDED BY HER MAJESTY. 
 
 This is, as far as I have been able to discover, the 
 first poem in English written in praise of tea, which 
 was in Waller's time an article of luxury. It became 
 a fashionable beverage at Court, owing to the example 
 of the Queen, who had been accustomed to it in 
 Portugal, and the treatise of Bontekoe, a Dutch 
 physician, published in 1678, setting forth its 
 medicinal virtues, led to its general use in many parts 
 of Europe. 
 
 P. 222, /. I. — Cf. Virgil, Eel. vii. 62, "Formoss 
 myrtus Veneri, sua laurea Phoebo." 
 
 OF THE INVASION AND DEFEAT OF THE TURKS. 
 
 The Turks, under the Grand Vizier, Cara 
 Mustapha, laid siege to Vienna in July, 1683, but on 
 Sept. 10 they were driven from the walls in great 
 disorder by John Sobieski, king of Poland. To 
 shield himself from the obloquy of this defeat, the 
 
344 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 Sultan was compelled to sacrifice his favourite, the 
 Grand Vizier, who was strangled at Belgrade, Dec. 25, 
 1683. 
 
 P. 228, /. 16. — Ibrahim, the father of the Sultan 
 Mahomet, had been deposed and strangled in 1649. 
 
 P. 229, /. 23. — The Grand Vizier had ordered the 
 execution of the Bassa of Buda, on the pretended 
 ground that he had failed in performing his duty in 
 an engagement with the Imperialists before Vienna. 
 
 P. 229, //. 39-40. — Cf. p. 234, 11. 1-2. 
 
 A PRP.5AGF, OF THE RUIN OF THE TURKISH EMPIRE. 
 P. 233. " Ausus et ipse," &c. Virgil, jiin. v. 
 499- 
 
 TO HIS MAJESTY, UPON HIS MOTTO, &C. 
 
 This poem, reprinted here for the first time, is 
 found in some copies of the edition of 1686, on a 
 separate leaf inserted after the Table of Contents. 
 Buda fell September 2, 1686, so it was probably 
 written while the book was going through the press. 
 EPITAPH ON SIR GEORGE SPEKE. 
 
 Sir George Speke, second Baronet, was the son of 
 Hugh Speke of Ilasilbury, who died July 15, 1661. 
 Sir George represented Bath and Chippenham in 
 several Parliaments, and died Jan. 14, 1682. His 
 mother (born Mayney) was Waller's niece. 
 EPITAPH ON HENRY DUNCH, ESQ. 
 
 This gentleman was a member of the family of 
 Dunch, settled at Newington, a branch of the family 
 of the same name of Little Wittenham, in Berkshire : 
 they were ftjnnected by marriage with both Cromwell 
 and Waller. 
 
NOTES. 34S 
 
 TO ME. GRANVILLE. 
 George Granville, or Grenville, second son of 
 Bernard Granville, was born in 1667 ; he was entered 
 at Trinity College, Cambridge, in 1677, and before 
 he was twelve years old recited verses of his own to 
 the Duchess of York when she visited the University. 
 He was created Lord Lansdowne, Dec. 30, 171 1, 
 and died Jan. 30, 1735. Johnson says of him, "he 
 had no ambition above the imitation of Waller, of 
 whom he has copied the faults and very little more. " 
 
 EPITAPH ON THE LADY SEDLEY. 
 
 Lady Sedley, mother of the poet, was the daughter 
 of Sir Henry Savil, the learned Provost of Eton. 
 
 P. 243, //. 27-8. — Cf. Walpole, Account of Lord 
 Somers, "one of those divine men, who, like a chapel 
 in a palace, remain unprofaned, while all the rest is 
 Tyranny, Corruption, and Folly." 
 
 UPON A lady's fishing. 
 Printed here for the first time from a MS. in the 
 Library of the Royal Society. 
 
 ON MRS. ,HIGG0NS. 
 
 These lines were first printed by Chalmers, in 1810. 
 
 DIVINE POEMS. 
 
 Wallers "Divine Poems " were, with the exception 
 of the lines on " The Fear of God," collected and 
 published in 1685, I only know of the existence of 
 one copy of the book, that in the library of Mr. 
 H. Buxton Forman, who has very kindly allowed me 
 to collate it. 
 
 Divine | Poems. | By Edmond Waller Esq ; 
 
346 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 Licensed, | Octob. 3. 1685 1 Rob. Midgley. | In the 
 Savoy : | Printed for Henry Herringman ; and are 
 to 1 be sold by Jos. Knight and Fran. Saun- | ders, at 
 the Sign of the Anchor in the ] Lower Walk of the 
 New-Exchange in the | Strand. 1685. A 2- — C2 in 
 eights. 
 
 P. 255, /. 18. — This line was correctly printed in 
 the editions of 1682 and 1686, but in that of 1694, 
 by some accident, the word " Nature " dropped out ; 
 the editor of the next edition substituted " several," 
 which has since appeared in the text, and destroyed 
 the sense. 
 
 P. 258. — The Latin lines are adapted from 
 Lucretius iii. 1 1-16, omitting 1. 15 — 
 
 " Floriferis ut apes in saltibus omnia libant, 
 Omnia nos itidem depascimur aurea dicta, 
 Aurea perpeCiia semper dignissima vita, 
 Nam simul ac ratio tua coepit vociferari. 
 
 DifFugiunt animi terrores " — 
 
 and Ovid, De Trist, iv. i. 2-3, and 43-44 — 
 
 "Sic ubi mota calent viridi mea pectora thyrso 
 Altior," &c. 
 
 OF THE LAST VERSES IN THE BOOK. 
 
 Mr. Waller has a transcript of these lines, headed, 
 " The last verses my dear ffather made." 
 
 P. 272, //. 12-13. — Fuller says that Monica, the 
 mother of Augustine, " saw a glimpse of happiness 
 through the chinks of her sickness-broken body." 
 
 Cf. Pope, " Dunciad," iv. 125-26 — 
 
 " And you, my Critics, in the chequer'd shade. 
 Admire new light thro' holes yourselves have made." 
 
INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Ah, lovely Amoret ! the care 85 
 
 Aid me Bellona ! while the dreadful fight ... 66 
 All this her weeping sister does repeat ... ... 157 
 
 Amaze us not with that majestic frown, 223 
 
 Amoret! the Milky Way 83 
 
 An early plant ! which such a blossom bears, .. 239 
 And is antiquity of no more force ! .. ... 89 
 
 Anger, in hasty words or blows 87 
 
 ArcadijB juvenis Thyrsis, Phoebique sacerdos ... 53 
 As gathered flowers, while their wounds are new, 195 
 As in old chaos (heaven with earth confused, ... 5" 
 
 As lately I on silver Thames did ride, 40 
 
 As once the lion honey gave, ... ... ... 208 
 
 As when a sort of wolves infest the night ... 50 
 
 Aspasia bleeding on the stage does lie, ... ... 227 
 
 Balls of this metal slacked Atlanta's pace ... lU 
 
 Behold, and listen while the fair 91 
 
 Behold the brand of beauty tossed ! 126 
 
 Bold is the man that dares engage 201 
 
 Brave Holland leads, and with him Falkland 
 
 goes 75 
 
 Buda and Rhodes proud Solyman had torn ... 234 
 
 Chloris ! farewell. I now must go; 238 
 
 Chloris ! since first our calm of peace 112 
 
 Chloris ! what's eminent, we know 122 
 
 Chloris ! yourself you so excel, iq5 
 
 Circles are praised, not that abound 240 
 
348 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Dirkness which fairest nymphs disarms, ... 193 
 
 Design, or chance, makes others wive ; 92 
 
 Earth praises conquerors for shedding blood, ... 270 
 Fade, flowers ! fade, Nature will have it so ; ... 240 
 Fair fellow-servant ! may your gentle ear ... 55 
 
 Fair hand ! that can on virgin paper write, ... 196 
 
 Fair! that you may truly know 5^ 
 
 Fairest piece of well-formed earth ! 103 
 
 Farewell the year ! which threatened so ... 1 73 
 
 First draw the sea, that portion which between 1 76 
 
 Fletcher ! to thee we do not only owe 131 
 
 Floribus Angligenis non hanc tibi necto corollam 148 
 
 Go, lovely Rose ! ... 128 
 
 Great Queen of Europe ! where thy offspring wears 35 
 Great Queen ! that does our island bless ... 1S9 
 
 Great soul ! for whom Death will no longer stay, 244 
 
 Had Sacharissa lived when mortals made ... 46 
 
 He that did first this way of writing grace, ... 261 
 
 Her fair eyes, if they could see 129 
 
 Here Celia ! for thy sake I part 106 
 
 Here Hes Charles Ca'ndish : let the marble stone, 203 
 
 Here lies the learned Savil's heir ; ... ... 242 
 
 Here lies the prop and glory of his race, ... 237 
 
 Heroic nymph ! in tempests the support, ... 202 
 
 His sacred name with reverence profound ... 265 
 
 How bold a work attempts that pen, 28 
 
 Hylas, oh Hylas ! why sit we mute, 114 
 
 Ingenious Higgons never sought 246 
 
 It is not that I love you less, ... ... ... loi 
 
 Lately on yonder swelling bush, 98 
 
INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 349 
 
 FACE 
 
 Madam, as in some climes the warmer sun ... 94 
 
 Madam ! I here present you with the rage, ... 199 
 
 Madam ! intending to have tried log 
 
 Madam ! new years may well expect to find ... 131 
 
 Madam ! of all the sacred Muse inspired, ... 21 
 
 May those already cursed Essexian plains, ... 37 
 
 Mirror of poets ! mirror of our age ! ... ... 29 
 
 My charge it is those breaches to repair So 
 
 No wonder sleep from careful lovers flies, ... 49 
 
 Not caring to observe the wind, lOO 
 
 Not that thy tree? at Penshurst groan, 47 
 
 Not the brave Macedonian youth alone, ... 242 
 
 Not willing terror should his image move ; ... 251 
 
 Nothing lies hid from radiant eyes ; 197 
 
 Now, for some ages, had the pride of Spain ... 151 
 
 Now had his Highness bid farewell to Spain ; . . . i 
 
 Of Jason, Theseus, and such worthies old, ... 13 
 
 Of the first Paradise, there's nothing found ; ... 168 
 
 Of their alarm, and how the foes ... ... 69 
 
 Our guard upon the royal side ! 193 
 
 Our sighs are heard ; just Heaven declares ... 97 
 
 Peace, babbling Muse ! 124 
 
 Phyllis ! 'twas love that injured you, 27 
 
 Phyllis! why should we delay ... ... ... 84 
 
 Poets may boast as safely v£iin, 197 
 
 Poets we prize, when in their verse we find ... 259 
 
 Pygmalion's fate reversed is mine ; ... ... 99 
 
 Rare Artisan, whose pencil moves ... ... 44 
 
 Rome was not better by her Horace taught, ... 214 
 
 Rome's holy. days you tell, as if a guest 241 
 
350 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Say, lovely dream ! where couldst thou find ... 53 
 Scarce should we have the boldness to pretend... 224 
 Sedibus emigrans solitis, comitatus inermi ... 12 
 
 See ! how the willing earth gave way, 96 
 
 See ! where the fair Clorinda sits, and seems ... 244 
 Sees not my love how time resumes ... ... 113 
 
 Silence, you winds I listen, ethereal lights ! ... 264 
 Since James the Second graced the British 
 
 throne, 231 
 
 Since thou wouldst needs (bewitched with some 
 
 ill charms !) 130 
 
 Sir, you should rather teach our age the way ... 192 
 So earnest with thy God ! can no new care, ... 11 
 So we some antique hero's strength ... ... no 
 
 Some ages hence, for it must not decay, ... ... 129 
 
 Stay here, fond youth ! and ask no more ; be 
 
 wise; 116 
 
 Stay, Phoebus ! stay ; 123 
 
 Strange ! that such horror and such grace ... 175 
 Such moving sounds from such a careless touch ! 90 
 Such was Philoclea, and such Dorus' flame ! ... 43 
 Swift as Jove's messenger, the winged God, ... 212 
 
 Tasso knew how the fairer sex to grace, 216 
 
 Tell me, lovely, loving pair 1 60 
 
 That chance and atoms make this all 149 
 
 That shipwrecked vessel which the Apostle bore, 16 
 
 That sun of beauty did among us rise ; 200 
 
 That the first Charles does here in triumph ride, 203 
 
 That which her slender waist confined, 95 
 
 The bloody fight, successless toil 71 
 
 The boat which on the first assault did go, ... 71 
 
INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 351 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The cards you tear in value rise ; 220 
 
 The failing blossoms which a young plant bears, 207 
 The fear of God is freedom, joy, and peace, ... 267 
 The fear of hell, or aiming to be blessed, ... 249 
 
 The fierce Melantius was content, you see, ... 226 
 The Grecian Muse has all their gods survived,... 247 
 The lark, that shuns on lofty boughs to build ... 77 
 The modern Nimrod, with a safe delight ... 228 
 
 The rising sun complies with our weak sight, ... 163 
 The winged lion's not so fierce in fight, ... 156 
 
 They taste of death that do at heaven arrive ; . . . 26 
 
 They that never had the use 120 
 
 This happy day two lights are seen, ... ... 220 
 
 This Iron Age (so fraudulent and bold !) ... 254 
 
 Tliough rocks so high about this island rise, ... 6g 
 Though the creation (so divinely taught ! ) ... 257 
 Though we may seem importunate, ... ... 22 1 
 
 Thrice happy pair ! of whom we cannot know ... 102 
 Thus by the music we may know ... ... 146 
 
 Thus mourn the Muses ! on the hearse... ... 217 
 
 Thus the wise nightingale that leaves her home, 136 
 
 Thyrsis, a youth of the inspired train, 52 
 
 'Tis fit the English reader should be told, ... 191 
 
 'Tis not your beauty can engage ... ... ... 125 
 
 To glory, man, or misery is born, ... ... 253 
 
 To this great loss a sea of tears is due ; ... ... 31 
 
 Treading the path to nobler ends, 93 
 
 Twice twenty slender virgin-fingers twine ... 121 
 
 Under this stone lies virtue, youth, 235 
 
 Venus her myrtle, Phoebus has his bays ; ... 222 
 
 Verse makes heroic virtue live j ... ... ... 19 
 
352 EDMUND WALLER. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 We mast resign ! Heaven his great soul does 
 
 claim ... ... ... ... ... ... 162 
 
 Welcome, great Prince, unto this land, ... ... 210 
 
 Well fare the hand ! which to our humble sight 8 
 
 Were men so dull they could not see ... •.- 131 
 
 Vv'hat all men wished, but few could hope to see, 218 
 
 What fruits they have, and how Heaven smiles 66 
 
 What fury has provoked thy wit to dare, ... 24 
 
 What revolutions in the world have been, ... 221 
 
 What's she, so late from Penshurst come, ••• 62 
 
 When as of old the earth's bold children strove, 133 
 
 When from black clouds no part of sky is clear, 22 
 
 When through the world fair Mazarin had run, 205 
 
 When we for age could neither read nor write,... 272 
 
 Where'er thy navy spreads her canvas wings, .. 15 
 
 While I listen to thy voice, ... ... ... 127 
 
 While in the park I sing, the listening deer ... 64 
 
 While she pretends to make the graces known... 130 
 
 While with a str jng and yet a gentle hand, ... 1 38 
 
 Whilst I was free I wrote with high conceit, ... 75 
 
 Why came I so untimely forth 57 
 
 With joy like ours the Tbracian youth invades... 33 
 
 You gods that have the power 
 
 82 
 
 THE E?}D.