Edmund Spenser possessed the abstract faculty of poetry, in a higher degree than any other poet of England. He occupies in common with three other illustrious men, the first rank of poetical fame in his country; but in the truest sense of the term poetry, he stands before all, unapproachably alone. When we wish to be removed altogether from the actual world, to take up our residence in the exclusive poetical region, to be laid in the bosom of a more quiet and more lovely nature than that of earth, we must resort to the works of Spenser. Himself a man of action, his poetry is the expression of perfect luxuriousness and relaxation; of a fairy land of volup tuous sentiment and fancy, where the pathos, that is there, does not act with tears, and the passion and strength, that are there also, influence us through a medium of visionary sublimity, and by associations of preternatural power. The controlling presence of the poetry of Spenser is a love of beauty and a sense of pleasure. We have them equally in his description of a lonely solitude, or of a scene of more than Eastern magnificence; in his picture of a withered old man in his cave, or of the wanton beauties of an enchanted lake. Spenser's imagination is inexhaustible, and his command of language the most copious and various. And though his genius is, as we have said, steeped in pleasure, all it sends forth may rank in the very first order of refinement, and moral truth. If a fault could be urged, indeed, against his great poem, it would be perhaps that its moral design is even obtrusive.

IN which amazement when the miscreaunt
Perceived him to waver weake and fraile,
Whiles trembling horror did his conscience daunt,
And hellish anguish did his soule assaile;
To drive him to despaire, and quite to quaile,

Hee shewd him painted in a table plaine

The damned ghosts, that doe in torments waile,
And thousand feends, that doe them endlesse paine
With fire and brimstone, which for ever shall remaine.

The sight whereof so throughly him dismaid,
That nought but death before his eies he saw,
And ever burning wrath before him laid,
By righteous sentence of th' Almighties law.
Then gan the villein him to overcraw,

And brought unto him swords, ropes, poison, fire,
And all that might him to perdition draw;

And bad him choose, what death he would desire:
For death was dew to him, that had provokt Gods ire.

But, whenas none of them he saw him take,
He to him raught a dagger sharpe and keene,
And gave it him in hand: his hand did quake
And tremble like a leafe of aspin greene,

And troubled blood through his pale face was seene
To come and goe, with tidings from the heart,
As it a ronning messenger had beene.

At last, resolv'd to work his finall smart,

He lifted up his hand, that backe againe did start.

Which whenas Una saw, through every vaine
The crudled cold ran to her well of life,
As in a swowne: but, soone reliv'd againe,
Out of his hand she snatcht the cursed knife,
And threw it to the ground, enraged rife,
And to him said; "Fie, fie, faint hearted knight,
What meanest thou by this reprochfull strife?
Is this the battaile, which thou vauntst to fight
With that fire-mouthed dragon, horrible and bright?

"Come; come away, fraile, feeble, fleshly wight,
Ne let vaine words bewitch thy many hart,
Ne divelish thoughts dismay thy constant spright:
In heavenly mercies hast thou not a part?
Why shouldst thou then despeire, that chosen art?
Where justice growes, there grows eke greater grace,
The which doth quench the brond of hellish smart,
And that accurst hand-writing doth deface:
Arise, sir Knight; arise, and leave this cursed place."

Thence passing forth, they shortly doe arryve
Whereas the Bowre of Blisse was situate;
A place pickt out by choyce of best alyve,

That natures worke by art can imitate:
In which whatever in this worldly state
Is sweete and pleasing unto living sense,
Or that may dayntest fantasy aggrate,
Was poured forth with plentifull dispence,

And made there to abound with lavish affluence.

Goodly it was enclosed rownd about,

As well their entred guestes to keep within,
As those unruly beasts to hold without;
Yet was the fence thereof but weake and thin;
Nought feard their force that fortilage to win,
But Wisedomes powre, and Temperaunces might,
By which the mightiest things efforced bin:
And eke the gate was wrought of substaunce light,
Rather for pleasure then for battery or fight.

Yt framed was of precious yvory,

That seemd a worke of admirable witt;
And therein all the famous history
Of Iason and Medæa was ywritt;

Her mighty charmes, her furious loving fitt;
His goodly conquest of the golden fleece,
His falsed fayth, and love too lightly flitt;

The wondred Argo, which in venturous peece

First through the Euxine seas bore all the flowr of Greece.

Ye might have seene the frothy billowes fry
Under the ship as thorough them she went,
That seemd the waves were into yvory,

Or yvory into the waves were sent;

And otherwhere the snowy substaunce sprent
With vermell, like the boyes blood therein shed,

A piteous spectacle did represent;

And otherwhiles with gold besprinkeled

Yt seemd th' enchaunted flame, which did Creusa wed.

All this and more might in that goodly gate

Be red, that ever open stood to all

Which thether came: but in the porch there sate

A comely personage of stature tall,

And semblaunce pleasing, more than naturall,

That traveilers to him seemd to entize;

His looser garment to the ground did fall,

And flew about his heeles in wanton wize,
Not fitt for speedy pace or manly exercize.

They in that place him Genius did call:
Not that celestiall powre, to whom the care
Of life, and generation of all

That lives, perteines in charge particulare,
Who wondrous things concerning our welfare,
And straunge phantomes doth lett us ofte foresee,
And ofte of secret ills bids us beware:

That is our selfe, whom though we do not see,
Yet each doth in himselfe it well perceive to bee:

Therefore a god him sage Antiquity

Did wisely make, and good Agdistes call:
But this same was to that quite contrary,
The foe of life, that good envyes to all,
That secretly doth us procure to fall

Through guilefull semblants, which he makes us see:
He of this gardin had the governall,

And Pleasures porter was devizd to bee,
Holding a staffe in hand for more formalitee.

With divers flowres he daintily was deckt,
And strowed rownd about; and by his side
A mighty mazer bowle of wine was sett,
As if it had to him bene sacrifide;
Wherewith all new-come guests be gratyfide:
So did he eke sir Guyon passing by;

But he his ydle curtesie defide,

And overthrew his bowle disdainfully,

And broke his staffe, with which he charmed semblants sly.

Thus being entred, they behold arownd

A large and spacious plaine, on every side

Strowed with pleasauns; whose fayre grassy grownd

Mantled with greene, and goodly beautifide

With all the ornaments of Floraes pride,

Wherewith her mother Art, as halfe in scorne

Of niggard Nature, like a pompous bride

Did decke her, and too lavishly adorne,

When forth from virgin bowre she comes in th' early morne.