And in his hand a windy fan did beare,

That in the ydle ayre he mov'd still here and theare.'

Book III. Canto XII. ver. 7, 8.

The characters that follow must remind the reader of Collins' celebrated Ode to the Passions. Of Fear, "who started from the noise himself had made," Spenser says:

'Next to him was Feare, all armd from top to toe,
Yet thought himselfe not safe enough thereby,
But feard each shadow moving to or froe,
And his owne armes when glettering he did spy,
Or clashing heard, he fast away did fly;

As ashes pale of hew, and winged heeld,
And evermore on Daunger fixt his eye,
Gainst whom he always bent a brasen shield,

Which his right hand unarmed fearefully did wield.'

Ver. 12.

And Hope, who "smiled, and waved her golden hair," is thus

represented:

With him went Hope in rancke, a handsome mayd,
Of chearefull looke and lovely to behold;

In silken samite she was light arrayd,

And her fayre locks were woven up in gold:
She always smyld, and in her hand did hold
An holy water-sprinkle, dipt in deowe,
With which she sprinkled favours manifold
On whom she list, and did great liking sheowe,
Great liking unto many, but true love to feowe.'

Ver. 13.

Britomarte, nothing dismayed by all these delusions, releases Amoret, and overthrows the power of the enchanter. The spirited description of Até, which occurs in the fourth book, yields to none of Spenser's strongest delineations, In this book, the poet alludes to Chaucer, and laments the loss of his works; the verse in which he solicits forgiveness of Chaucer's shade, for attempting to revive his "labour lost," is very beautiful.

Britomarte, after many wanderings, at length encounters Artegal, her future lord; but they do not meet as lovers-entering immediately into a severe combat, when a stroke from Artegal uncovers the head of his adversary, and reveals her fair counte

nance.

'And round about the same her yellow heare,
Having through stirring loosd their wonted band,
Like to a golden border did appeare,

Framed in goldsmithes forge with cunning hand;
Yet goldsmithes cunning could not understand
To frame such subtile wire, so shinie cleare;
For it did glister like the golden sand,
The which Pactolus with his waters shere

Throwes forth upon the rivage round about him nere.'

Book IV. Canto VI. ver. 20,

They are then reconciled, and become betrothed lovers, according to the decree of destiny. One of the most laboured parts of the poem is Sir Scudamour's account of the temple of Venus, and the manner in which he won the love of Amoret. After baffling Doubt, eluding Delay, and overcoming Danger, he entered the regions sacred to love and pleasure.

"No tree that is of count in greenewood growes,

"From lowest iuniper to ceder tall,

"No flowre in field, that daintie odour throwes,
"And deckes his branch with blossomes over all,
"But there was planted or grew naturall;
"Nor sense of man so coy and curious nice,
"But there mote find to please itselfe withall;
"Nor hart could wish for any queint device,

"But there it present was, and did fraile sense entice."
Canto X. ver. 22.

"Fresh shadowes, fit to shroud from sunny ray,
"Faire lawnds, to take the sunne in season dew,
"Sweet springs, in which a thousand nymphes did play,
"Soft rumbling brookes, that gentle slumber drew,
"High-reared mounts, the lands about to view,
"Low-looking dales, disloignd from common gaze,
"Delightfull bowres, to solace lovers trew,
"False labyrinthes, fond runners eyes to daze,

"All which by Nature made did Nature selfe amaze."'

Ver. 24.

The whole description is very rich and minute, but too long. to permit our extracting it.

The bridal of the Thames and the Medway, in copiousness of detail, in play of fancy, and descriptive beauty, excels most of his prior efforts. The nuptial feast is held at the palace of the sea-god Proteus, and all the powers of Ocean and Rivers, both great and small, attend, as in duty bound, upon its rites.

'First came great Neptune with his three-forkt mace,

That rules the seas, and makes them rise or fall;

His dewy lockes did drop with brine apace

Under his diadem imperiall;

And by his side his queene with coronall,

Fair Amphitrite, most divinely faire,

Whose yvorie shoulders weren covered all,

As with a robe, with her owne silver haire,

And deckt with pearles which th' Indian seas for her prepaire.'

'And after him the famous rivers came

Canto XI. ver. 11.

Which doe the earth enrich and beautifie;

The fertile Nile, which creatures now doth frame;

Long Rhodanus, whose source springs from the skie;
Faire Ister, flowing from the mountaines hie

Divine Scamander, purpled yet with blood

Of Greekes and Troians, which therein did die;

Pactolus, glistiring with his golden flood,

And Tygris fierce, whose streames of none may be withstood:

Great Ganges, and immortall Euphrates;
Deepe Indus, and Mæander intricate;
Slow Peneus, and tempestuous Phasides;
Swift Rhene, and Alpheus still immaculate;
Ooraxes, feared for great Cyrus' fate;
Tybris, renowmed for the Romaines fame;
Rich Oranochy, though but knowen late;
And that huge river which doth beare his name

Of warlike Amazons, which doe possesse the same.'
Ver. 20, 21.

Then came the bride, the lovely Medua came,
Clad in a vesture of unknowen geare,
And uncouth fashion, yet her well became,
That seem'd like silver sprincked here and theare,
With glitterings spangs that did like starres appeare,
And wav'd upon like water chamelot,

To hide the metall, which yet every where
Bewrayed itselfe, to let men plainely wot

It was no mortall worke, that seem'd and yet was not.

Her goodly lockes adowne her backe did flow
Unto her waste, with flowres bescattered,
The which ambrosiall odours forth did throw
To all about, and all her shoulders spred
As a new spring; and likewise on her hed
A chapelet of sundry flowers she wore,
From under which the deawy humour shed
Did tricle downe her haire, like to the hore
Congealed litle drops which doe the morne adore.
On her two pretty handmaides did attend,
One cald the Theise, the other cald the Crane,
Which on her waited things amisse to mend,
And both behind upheld her spredding traine,
Under the which her feet appeared plaine,
Her silver feet, faire washt against this day;
And her before there paced pages twaine,

Both clad in colours like, and like array,

The Doune and eke the Frith, both which prepar'd her way.'

Ver. 45--47.

We could go on extracting through the whole canto, but we must be contented in giving, as it were, an ensample of it, and referring those, who are pleased with our bill of fare, to the rich feast itself.

The fifth and sixth books, containing the legends of Justice and Courtesy, are more tedious than the preceding ones, with fewer striking passages to redeem their monotony. The frequent recurrence of single combats renders them fatiguing; and by the time we arrive at Sir Calidore, the knight of Courtesy's contest with the Blatant Beast, we are heartily tired of the sounds of battle. The Blatant is described as possessing a hundred tongues of different animals, which must have discoursed most excellent music. All these tremendous weapons are employed to daunt Sir Calidore in vain. The strength of courage,

and long suffering of courtesy, prevail, at last, over the fury of Malice, and the hundred voices of Slander.

There are two cantos of an unfinished book, which treats of Mutability, in which are some fine passages. Mutability pleads her right to govern the world, and sets forth her argument with much eloquence. She produces, as evidences of her sway, the seasons, months, and hours-day and night, life and death; and in describing these different objects, the poet writes

con amore.

'So forth issew'd the Seasons of the year;

First lusty Spring, all dight in leaves of flowers
That freshly budded, and new bloosmes did beare,
In which a thousand birds had built their bowres,
That sweetly sung to call forth paramoures;
And in his hand a iavelin he did beare,

And on his head (as fit for warlike stoures)

A guilt engraven morion he did weare,

That as some did him love, so others did him feare.

Then came the iolly Sommer, being.dight
In a thin silken cassock coloured greene,
That was unlyned all, to be more light,
And on his head a girlond well beseene

He wore, from which, as he had chauffed been,
The sweat did drop, and in his hand he bore
A boawe and shaftes, as he in forest greene

Had hunted late the libbard or the bore,

And now would bathe his limbes, with labor heated sore.'

Canto VII. ver. 28, 29.

The months next pass in succession, of which May, August,

and December are the best specimens.

'Then came faire May, the fayrest mayd on ground
Deckt all with dainties of her season's pryde,

And throwing flowres out of her lap around;
Upon two brethrens shoulders she did ride,
The Twinnes of Leda, which on eyther side
Supported her like to their soveraine queene:
Lord! how all creatures laught when her they spide,
And leapt and daunc't as they had ravisht beene!
And Cupid selfe about her fluttred all in greene.'

The sixt was August, being rich arrayd

In garment all of gold downe to the ground;
Yet rode he not, but led a lovely Mayd
Forth by the lilly hand, the which was cround

With eares of corne, and full her hand was found;
That was the righteous Virgin, which of old

Liv'd here on earth, and plenty made abound,

But after wrong was lov'd and iustice solde,

Ver. 34.

She left th' unrighteous world, and was to heaven extold.'

'And after him came next the chill December,
Yet he, through merry feasting which he made,

VOL. II.

37

Ver. 37.

And great bonfires, did not the cold remember,
His Saviour's birth so much his mind did glad;
Upon a shaggy, bearded Goat he rode,

The same wherewith Dan Iove in tender yeares,
They say, was nourisht by the læan mayd;
And in his hand a broad deepe boawle he beares,

Of which he freely drinks an health to all his peeres.'

Ver. 41.

Spenser has written several smaller poems, but their merits would not have secured him lasting fame, although in some of them we recognise a master's hand. His Shepherd's Calendar is tedious, though it contains some pleasing rural pictures. The following lines are written with much playfulness.

'It was upon a holy-day,

When shepherds grooms han leave to play,

1 cast to go a shooting;

Long wandring up and down the land,

With bow and bolts in either hand,

For birds in bushes tooting,

At length within the ivy tod,
(There shrouded was the little god)
Ì heard a busie bustling;
I bent my bolt against the bush,
Listning if any thing did rush,
But then heard no more rustling.
Tho peeping close into the thick,
Might see the moving of some quick,
Whose shape appeared not;
But were it fairy, fiend, or snake,
My courage earn'd it to awake,

And manfully thereat shot;

With that sprang forth a naked swain,

With spotted wings like peacock's train,

And laughing lope to a tree;

His gilden quiver at his back,

And silver bow, which was but slack,

Which lightly he bent at me :

That seeing I level'd again,

And shot at him with might and main,

As thick as it had hailed.

So long I shot, that all was spent,

Tho pumy stones I hastily hent,
And threw, but nought availed:
He was so wimble and so wight,
From bough to bough he leaped light,
And oft the pumies latched :
Therewith afraid I ran away,
But he that earst seem'd but to play,
A shaft in earnest snatched,

And hit me running in the heel;

For then I little smart did feel,

But soon it sore increased;

And now it rankleth more and more,

And inwardly it festreth sore,

Ne wote I how to cease it.'