model; and he might have studied with advantage the poem of Davies', which, though merely philosophical, yet seldom leaves the ear ungratified. But he was rather smooth than strong: of" the full resounding line," which Pope attributes to Dryden, he has given very few examples. The critical decision has given the praise of strength to Denham, and of sweetness to Waller. His excellence of versification has some abatements. He uses the expletive do very frequently; and, though he lived to see it almost universally ejected, was not more careful to avoid it in his last compositions than in his first. Praise had given him confidence; and finding the world satisfied, he satisfied himself. His rhymes are sometimes weak words: so is found to make the rhyme twice in ten lines, and occurs often as a rhyme through his book. His double rhymes, in heroic verse, have been censured by Mrs. Phillips, who was his rival in the translation of Corneille's Pompey; and more faults might be found, were not the inquiry below attention. He sometimes uses the obsolete termination of verbs, as waxeth, affecteth; and sometimes retains the final syllable of the preterite, as amazed, supposed, of which I know not whether it is not to the detriment of our language, that we have totally rejected them. Of triplets he is sparing; but he did not wholly forbear them; of an Alexandrine he has given no example. The general character of his poetry is elegance and gaiety. He is never pathetic, and very rarely sublime. He seems neither to have had a mind much elevated by nature, nor amplified by learning. His thoughts are such as a liberal conversation and large acquaintance with life would easily supply. They had however then, perhaps, that grace of novelty, which they are now often supposed to want by those, who, having already found them in later books, do not know or inquire who produced them first. This treatment is unjust. Let not the original author lose by his imitators. Praise, however, should be due before it is given. The author of Waller's Life ascribes to him the first practice of what Erythræus and some late critics call alliteration, of using in the same verse many words beginning with the same letter. But this knack, whatever be its value, was so frequent among early writers, that Gascoigne, a writer of the sixteenth century, warns the young poet against affecting it: Shakspeare, in the Midsummer Night's Dream, is supposed to ridicule it; and in another play the sonnet of Holofernes fully displays it. He borrows too many of his sentiments and illustrations from the old mythology, for which it is vain to plead the example of ancient poets; the deities, which they introduced so frequently, were considered as realities, so far as to be received by the imagination, whatever sober reason might even then determine. But of these images time has tarnished the splendour. A fiction, not only detected but despised, can never afford a solid basis to any position, though sometimes it may furnish a transient allusion, or slight illustration. No modern monarch can be much exalted by hearing, that, as Hercules had his club, he has his navy. But of the praise of Waller, though much may be taken away, much will remain ; for it cannot be denied, that he added something to our elegance of diction, and something 5 Sir John Davies, intituled, “Nosce teipsum. This Oracle expounded in two Elegies; I. Of Humane "Knowledge; II. Of the Soule of Man and the Immortalitie thereof, 1599." R. to our propriety of thought; and to him may be applied what Tasso said, with equal spirit and justice, of himself and Guarini, when, having perused the Pastor Fido, he cried out," If he had not read Aminta, he had not excelled it." AS Waller professed himself to have learned the art of versification from Fairfax, it has been thought proper to subjoin a specimen of his work, which, after Mr. Hoole's translation, will perhaps not be soon reprinted. By knowing the state in which Waller found our poetry, the reader may judge how much he improved it. Erminia's steed (this while) his mistresse bore Through forrests thicke among the shadie treene, But her flit courser spared nere the more, To beare her through the desart woods unseene Of her strong foes, that chas'd her through the plaine, Like as the wearie hounds at last retire, Yet still the fearfull dame fled, swift as winde, Through thicke and thinne, all night, all day, she driued, Her plaints and teares with euery thought reuiued, But when the sunne his burning chariot diued In Thetis waue, and wearie teame vntide, On Iordans sandie banks her course she staid, Her teares, her drinke; her food, her sorrowings; And loue, his mother, and the graces kept The birds awakte her with their morning song, Of swaines and shepherd groomes that dwellings weare; Her plaints were interrupted with a sound, Beholding one in shining armes appeare You happy folke, of heau'n beloued deare, But father, since this land, these townes and towres, This wildernesse doth vs in saftie keepe, No thundring drum, no trumpet breakes our sleepe. Haply iust heau'ns defence and shield of right, By pouertie, neglected and despised. O Pouertie, chefe of the heau'nly brood, We little wish, we need but little wealth, From cold and hunger vs to cloath and feed; These are my sonnes, their care preserues from stealth Amid these groues I walke oft for my health, Time was (for each one hath his doting time, Entised on with hope of future gaine, I suffred long what did my soule displease; I felt my native strength at last decrease; I gan my losse of lustie yeeres complaine, And wisht I had enjoy'd the countries peace; I bod the court farewell, and with content My later age here have I quiet spent. While thus he spake, Erminia, husht and still, To turne her home to her desired lord. She said therefore, O shepherd fortunate! That troubles some didst whilom feele and proue, Let my mishap thy thoughts to pitie moue, To entertaine me as a willing mate In shepherds life, which I admire and loue; Within these pleasant groues perchance my hart, If gold or wealth of most esteemed deare, But yet her gestures and her lookes (I gesse) And milke her goates, and in their folds them place, |