Bishopsbourne.
<90.20> [George] Sandys published, in 1615, his "Relation
of a Journey Begun A.D. 1610," &c., which became very popular,
and was frequently reprinted.
<90.21> "There was Selden, and he sat close by the chair;
Wainman not far off, which was very fair."
Suckling's SESSION OF THE POETS.
<90.22> "Hales set by himself, most
gravely did smile
To see them about nothing keep such a wil;
APOLLO had spied him, but
knowing his mind
Past by, and call'd FALKLAND, that sat just behind.
He was of late so gone with divinity,
That he had almost forgot his poetry,
Though to say the truth (and APOLLO did know it)
He might have been both his
priest and poet."
Suckling's SESSION OF THE POETS.
Lord Falkland was a
contributor to JONSONUS VIRBIUS, 1638,
and was well known in his day as an
occasional writer.
<90.23> SULLEN is here used in the sense of MISCHIEVOUS.
In Worcester's Dictionary an example is given of its
employmentby Dryden in a similar signification.
<90.24> Thomas Decker, the
dramatist and poet, whom Jonson
attacked in his POETASTER, 1602, under the name of CRISPINUS.
Decker retorted in SATIROMASTIX, printed in the same year,
in which Jonson appears as YOUNG HORACE.
<90.25> An
allusion to the lines:
"Come, leave the loathed stage,
And the more
loathsome age,"
prefixed to the NEW INNE, 1631, 8vo. Jonson's adopted son Randolph
expostulated with him on this occasion in the ode beginning:--
"Ben, doe not leave the stage,
'Cause 'tis a
loathsome age."
Randolph's POEMS, 1640, p. 64.
Carew and others did the same.
<90.26> Katherine Philips, the MATCHLESS ORINDA, b. 1631, d. 1664.
Jeremy Taylor addressed to her his "Measures and Offices of
Friendship," 1657, and Cowley wrote an ode upon her death.
<90.27> By MOTION OF BAD I
presume the poet means WICKED IMPULSE.
COMMENDATORY VERSES,
PREFIXED TO VARIOUS PUBLICATIONS BETWEEN 1652 AND 1657.
TO MY DEAR FRIEND MR. E[LDRED] R[EVETT].<91.1>
ON HIS POEMS MORAL AND DIVINE.
Cleft as the top of the inspired hill,
Struggles the soul of my divided quill,
Whilst this foot doth the watry mount aspire,
That Sinai's living and enlivening fire,
Behold my powers storm'd by a twisted light
O' th' Sun and his, first kindled his sight,
And my lost thoughts
invoke the
prince of day,
My right to th' spring of it and him do pray.
Say, happy youth, crown'd with a heav'nly ray
Of the first flame, and interwreathed bay,
Inform my soul in labour to begin,
Ios or Anthems, Poeans or a Hymne.
Shall I a hecatombe on thy tripod slay,
Or my devotions at thy altar pay?
While which t' adore th' amaz'd world cannot tell,
The
sublime Urim or deep oracle.
Heark! how the moving chords
temper our brain,
As when Apollo serenades the main,
Old Ocean smooths his
sullen furrow'd front,
And Nereids do glide soft measures on't;
Whilst th' air puts on its sleekest, smoothest face,
And each doth turn the others looking-glasse;
So by the sinewy lyre now strook we see
Into soft calms all storm of poesie,
And former thundering and
lightning lines,
And verse now in its native lustre shines.
How wert thou hid within thyself! how shut!
Thy pretious Iliads lock'd up in a nut!
Not
hearing of thee thou dost break out strong,
Invading forty thousand men in song;
And we, secure in our thin empty heat,
Now find ourselves at once surprised and beat,
Whilst the most
valiant of our wits now sue,
Fling down their arms, ask quarter too of you.
So cabin'd up in its disguis'd coarse<91.2> rust,
And scurf'd all ore with its unseemly crust,
The diamond, from 'midst the humbler stones,
Sparkling shoots forth the price of nations.
Ye safe unriddlers of the stars, pray tell,
By what name shall I stamp my miracle?
Thou strange inverted Aeson, that leap'st ore
From thy first
infancy into fourscore,
That to thine own self hast the midwife play'd,
And from thy brain spring'st forth<91.3> the heav'nly maid!
Thou staffe of him bore<91.4> him, that bore our sins,
Which, but set down, to bloom and bear begins!
Thou rod of Aaron, with one
motion hurl'd,
Bud'st<91.5> a
perfume of flowers through the world!
You<91.6> strange calcined<91.7> seeds within a glass,
Each
species Idaea spring'st as 'twas!
Bright vestal flame that, kindled but ev'n now,
For ever dost thy
sacred fires throw!
Thus the
repeated acts of Nestor's age,
That now had three times ore out-liv'd the stage,
And all those beams
contracted into one,
Alcides in his
cradle hath outdone.
But all these flour'shing hiews, with which I die
Thy
virgin paper, now are vain as I:
For 'bove the poets Heav'n th' art taught to shine
And move, as in thy proper crystalline;
Whence that mole-hill Parnassus thou dost view,
And us small ants there dabbling in its dew;
Whence thy seraphic soul such hymns doth play,
As those to which first danced the first day,
Where with a thorn from the world-ransoming wreath
Thou stung, dost antiphons and anthems
breathe;
Where with an Angels quil dip'd i' th' Lambs blood,
Thou sing'st our Pelicans all-saving flood,
And bath'st thy thoughts in ever-living streams,
Rench'd<91.8> from earth's tainted, fat and heavy steams.
There move translated youth inroll'd i' th' quire,
That only doth with wholy lays inspire;
To whom his burning coach Eliah sent,
And th' royal prophet-
priest his harp hath lent;
Which thou dost tune in
consort unto those
Clap wings for ever at each hallow'd close:
Whilst we, now weak and fainting in our praise,
Sick echo ore thy Halleluiahs.
<91.1> Revett has some verses to the memory of Lovelace,
which will be found among the Elegies at the end of the volume.
The present lines were
apparently written for a projected edition
of Revett's poems, which, for some unknown reason, was never
published. Revett has also verses prefixed to THE ROYAL GAME
OF CHESSE PLAY, 1656; to AYRES AND DIALOGUES, by John Gamble,
1656; and to Hall's
translation of the COMMENT OF HIEROCLES UPON
THE GOLDEN VERSES OF PYTHAGORAS, 1657.
<91.2> Original has COURSE.
<91.3> This is only one
instance among many which might be cited
from LUCASTA of the
employment of an intransitive verb in a
transitive signification.
<91.4> i.e. THAT BORE HIM.
<91.5> i.e. THAT BUD'ST.
<91.6> Orig. has THOU.
<91.7> This word, now employed only in a special sense, was
formerly a very common and favourite metaphor. Thus Lord
Westmoreland, in his OTIA SACRA, 1648, p. 19, says:--
"When all the vertue we can here put on
Is but
refined imperfection,
Corruption calcined--"
See also p. 137 of the same volume.
<91.8> Rinsed.
ON THE BEST, LAST, AND ONLY REMAINING COMEDY
OF MR. FLETCHER.
THE WILD GOOSE CHASE.<92.1>
I'm un-ore-clowded, too! free from the mist!
The blind and late Heaven's-eyes great Occulist,
Obscured with the false fires of his sceme,
Not half those souls are lightned by this theme.
Unhappy murmurers, that still repine
(After th' Eclipse our Sun doth brighter shine),
Recant your false grief, and your true joys know;
Your blisse is endlesse, as you fear'd your woe!
What fort'nate flood is this! what storm of wit!
Oh, who would live, and not ore-whelm'd in it?
No more a fatal Deluge shall be hurl'd:
This inundation hath sav'd the world.
Once more the
mighty Fletcher doth arise,
Roab'd in a vest studded with stars and eyes
Of all his former glories; his last worth
Imbroiderd with what yet light ere brought forth.
See! in this glad farewel he doth appear
Stuck with the Constellations of his Sphere,
Fearing we numb'd fear'd no flagration,
Hath curl'd all his fires in this one ONE:
Which (as they guard his
hallowed chast urn)
The dull aproaching hereticks do burn.
Fletcher at his adieu carouses thus
To the
luxurious ingenious,
As Cleopatra did of old out-vie,
Th' un-numb'red dishes of her Anthony,
When (he at th' empty board a wonderer)
Smiling she<92.2> calls for pearl and vinegar,
First pledges him in's BREATH, then at one draught
Swallows THREE KINGDOMS of To HIS BEST THOUGHT.
Hear, oh ye
valiant writers, and subscribe;
(His force set by) y'are conquer'd by this bribe.
Though you hold out your selves, he doth commit
In this a
sacredtreason in your wit;
Although in poems
desperately stout,
Give up: this overture must buy you out.
Thus with some
prodigal us'rer 't doth fare,
That keeps his gold still vayl'd, his steel-breast bare;
That doth
exceed his coffers all but's eye,
And his eyes' idol the wing'd Deity:
That cannot lock his mines with half the art
As some rich beauty doth his
wretched heart;
Wild at his real
poverty, and so wise
To win her, turns himself into a prise.
First startles her with th'
emerald Mad-Lover<92.3>
The ruby Arcas,<92.4> least she should recover
Her dazled thought, a Diamond he throws,
Splendid in all the bright Aspatia's woes;<92.5>
Then to sum up the
abstract of his store,
He flings a rope of Pearl of forty<92.6> more.
Ah, see! the stagg'ring
virtue faints! which he
Beholding, darts his Wealths Epitome;<92.7>
And now, to
consummate her wished fall,
Shows this one Carbuncle, that darkens all.
<92.1> "THE WILD-GOOSE CHASE. A Comedie: As it hath been acted