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blage of general than individual qualities, and of the mind than the person. There is however, occasionally, a fullness and depth of colouring, which shews that he sometimes thought intensely.
We shall commence our extracts by the description of Rhodalind, whom, as the heroine of the poem, it would be unpardonable to omit, though we shall produce others which are more to our mind-it is, however, well worth quoting.
“ Her father's prosp'rous palace was the sphear,
Where she to all with heav'nly order mov'd;
That 'twas without Religion's help belov'd.
Since pride ill counterfeits excessive height;
Who, for her deeds, not beautie, lov'd the light.
She us'd some outward greatness for disguise ;
And thought them proud who even the proud despise.
Was, like that stormie season, froward grown,
That he, her sweetness tasted as his own.
In her transplanted, by remove increas'd;
'Till power's decay, the throne's worst sickness, ceas'd.
Blush'd, and believ'd their greatness counterfeit;
Found virtue harmless, and nought else so great.
Did as her birth, her right to empire show;
Her speech, like lovers watch’d, was kind and low.
Such as evap’rates through the coarser male,
Which scarce through finer christal can exhale.
Her beautie (not her own but Nature's pride)
Should I describe, from every lover's eye
Or, like scorn'd copies, be themselves laid by;
Be by their poets shunn'd, whom beautie feeds,
Who, beautie like, hyr'd witnesses protect,
And make us so the needfull truth suspect.
To poets) think in their own loves they find
Time's curtain I will draw o'er Rhodalind."
The two rivals, Gondibert and Oswald, are depicted and contrasted with great spirit and discrimination.
“ In court, Prince Oswald costly was and gay,
Finer than near vain kings their fav'rites are ;
Yet were his eyes dark with ambitious care.
But yet his looks familiar were and clear;
Nor tow'rds himself could others practise fear.
And in court-storms on ship-wrack'd greatness feed;
But to their glorious hazzards durst succeed.
As pleasant gardens we defend from winds;
Soon his affairs above his manage finds.
With humble looks; who still too late will know
When the aspiring eagle stoops so low.
Which they in action more than precept tast;
By such even through their vizards are out-fac't.
Oswald in war was worthily renown'd,
Though gay in courts, coarsly in camps could live;
Could toil to gain what he with ease did give.
Which does in war the name of virtue own;
As rivers theirs when from their channels gon.
With martial toil could Oswald wearie make;
And give so much as he might deign to take.
The court he knew to steer in storms of state;
And after force the victors to their fate.”
The following stanza is very beautiful. -Gondibert guessed not, that for his love, fair Rhodalind
“Made sleep of late a stranger to her eyes.
Mildly as mourning doves love's sorrows felt;
As roses silently in lymbecks melt.”
The character of Oswald's sister is powerful.
And fulness plac'd, but such as all must like ;
And whilst sharp beauties pierce, hers seem'd to strike.
Who proudly there, and still unquiet lives;
To make ambition room, unwisely drives.
And fit in empire to direct and sway,
Who knew that gold is currant with allay.”
Gondibert's army is described with uncommon nerve and vigour of expression.
“ Temp'rate in what does needy life preserve,
As those whose bodies wait upon their minds; Chaste as those minds which not their bodies serve,
Ready as pilots wak'd with sudden winds. Speechless in diligence, as if they were
Nightly to close surprize and ambush bred ;
And soon from victory to pitie led.
(Whom in a filial duty some fair maid Visits, and would by tears his freedom gain)
How soon his victors were his captives made ?
For though the duke taught rigid discipline,
He let them beauty thus at distance know; As priests discover some especial shrine,
Which none must touch, yet all may to it bow. When thus as suitors mourning virgins pass
Through their clean camp, themselves in form they draw, That they, with martial reverence, may grace
Beauty, the stranger, which they seldom saw. They vayld their ensigns as it by did move,
Whilst inward (as from native conscience) all Worship’d the poet's darling godhead, Love,
Which grave philosophers did nature call.
This rev'rend army was for age renown'd,
Which long, through frequent dangers, follow'd time, Their many trophies gain'd with many a wound,
And fame's last hill did with first vigour climb.”
These characters are in a similar style.
“ And here was Hugo, whom Duke Gondibert
For stout and stedfast kindness did approve; Of stature small, but was all over heart,
And though unhappy, all that heart was love. In gentle sonnets he for Laura pin'd,
Soft as the murmures of a weeping spring; Which, ruthless, she did as those murmures mind :
So ere their death sick swans unheeded sing.
Young Goltho next these rivals we may name,
Whose manhood dawn'd early as summer light; As sure and soon did his fair day proclaim,
And was no less the joy of publick sight. If Love's just pow'r he did not early see,
Some small excuse we may his errour give; Since few (though learn'd) know yet blest love to be
That secret vital heat by which we live : But such it is; and though we may be thought
To have in childhood life, ere love we know,
And love and reason up together grow.
If, when their love's decay’d, some signs they give Of life, because we see them pain’d and move,
Than snakes, long cut, by torment shew they live. If we call living, life, when love is gone,
We then to souls (God's coyn) vain rev'rence pay; Since reason (which is love, and his best known
And currant image) age has worn away. And I, that love and reason thus unite,
May, if I old philosophers controul, Confirm the new by some new poet's light;
Who, finding love, thinks he has found the soul.
Brother to Oswald, and no less ally'd
Lowly without, but lin’d with costly pride.
Whose glories oft to others dreadfull were;
But waste themselves to make their gazers fear.
His speech was such as could in storms perswade; Sweet as the hopes on which stary'd lovers feed,
Breath'd in the whispers of a yielding maid.” Tybalt is described thus.
“ Publick his valour was, but not his love,
One fill'd the world, the other he contain'd; Yet quietly alike in both did move,
Of that ne'r boasted, nor of this complain’d.”