Lives Of The Poets, Vol. 1 (fiscle part-III) by Samuel Johnson (best beach reads TXT) 📖

Supplication Of

Man To Man May Diffuse Itself Through Many Topicks Of Persuasion; But

Supplication To God Can Only Cry For Mercy.

 

 

 

Of Sentiments Purely Religious, It Will Be Found That The Most Simple

Expression Is The Most Sublime. Poetry Loses Its Lustre And Its Power,

Because It Is Applied to The Decoration Of Something more Excellent Than

Itself. All That Pious Verse Can Do Is To Help The Memory, And Delight

The Ear, And, For These Purposes, It May Be Very Useful; But It Supplies

Nothing to The Mind. The Ideas Of Christian Theology Are Too Simple For

Eloquence, Too Sacred for Fiction, And Too Majestick For Ornament; To

Recommend Them By Tropes And Figures, Is To Magnify, By A Concave Mirror,

The Sidereal Hemisphere.

 

 

 

As Much Of Waller'S Reputation Was Owing to The Softness And Smoothness

Of His Numbers, It Is Proper To Consider Those Minute Particulars To

Which A Versifier Must Attend.

 

 

 

He Certainly Very Much Excelled in smoothness Most Of The Writers Who

Were Living when His Poetry Commenced. The Poets Of Elizabeth Had

Attained an Art Of Modulation, Which Was Afterwards Neglected or

Forgotten. Fairfax Was Acknowledged by Him As His Model; And He Might

Have Studied with Advantage The Poem Of Davies[M86], 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 heroick 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

Pathetick, 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 Erythraeus And Some

Late Criticks 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;

Shakespeare, 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 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 Never 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.

 

 

 

  1.

 

 

 

  Erminia'S Steed (This While) His Mistresse Bore

  Through Forrests Thicke Among The Shadie Treene,

  Her Feeble Hand The Bridle Reines Forlore,

  Halfe In a Swoune She Was For Feare, I Weene;

  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,

  And Still Pursu'D, But Still Pursu'D In vaine.

 

 

 

  2.

 

 

 

  Like As The Wearie Hounds At Last Retire,

  Windlesse, Displeased, From The Fruitlesse Chace,

  When The Slie Beast Tapisht In bush And Brire,

  No Art Nor Paines Can Rowse Out Of His Place:

  The Christian Knights So Full Of Shame And Ire

  Returned backe, With Faint And Wearie Pace!

  Yet Still The Fearfull Dame Fled, Swift As Winde,

  Nor Ever Staid, Nor Ever Lookt Behinde.

 

 

 

  3.

 

 

 

  Through Thicke And Thinne, All Night, All Day, She Drived,

  Withouten Comfort, Companie, Or Guide,

  Her Plaints And Teares With Every Thought Revived,

  She Heard And Saw Her Greefes, But Nought Beside.

  But When The Sunne His Burning chariot Dived

  In thetis Wave, And Wearie Teame Untide,

  On Jordans Sandie Bankes Her Course She Staid,

  At Last, There Downe She Light, And Downe She Laid.

 

 

 

  4.

 

 

 

  Her Teares, Her Drinke; Her Food, Her Sorrowings,

  This Was Her Diet That Unhappie Night:

  But Sleepe (That Sweet Repose And Quiet Brings)

  To Ease The Greefes Of Discontented wight,

  Spred foorth His Tender, Soft, And Nimble Wings,

  In his Dull Armes Foulding the Virgin Bright;

  And Love, His Mother, And The Graces Kept

  Strong Watch And Warde, While This Faire Ladie Slept.

 

 

 

  5.

 

 

 

  The Birds Awakte Her With Their Morning song,

  Their Warbling musicke Pearst Her Tender Eare,

  The Murmuring brookes And Whistling windes Among

  The Ratling boughes, And Leaves, Their Parts Did Beare;

  Her Eies Unclos'D Beheld The Groves Along

  Of Swaines And Shepherd Groomes, That Dwellings Weare:

  And That Sweet Noise, Birds, Winds, And Waters Sent,

  Provokte Againe The Virgin To Lament.

 

 

 

  6.

 

 

 

  Her Plaints Were Interrupted with A Sound

  That Seem'D From Thickest Bushes To Proceed,

  Some Iolly Shepheard Sung A Lustie Round,

  And To His Voice Had Tun'D His Oaten Reed;

  Thither She Went, An Old Man There She Found,

  (At Whose Right Hand His Little Flock Did Feed)

  Sat Making baskets, His Three Sonnes Among,

  That Learn'D Their Father'S Art, And Learn'D His Song.

 

 

 

  7.

 

 

 

  Beholding one In shining armes Appeare,

  The Seelie Man And His Were Sore Dismaid;

  But Sweet Erminia Comforted their Feare,

  Her Ventall Vp, Her Visage Open Laid.

  You Happie Folke, Of Heau'N Beloued deare,

  Work On (Quoth She) Vpon Your Harmlesse Traid,

  These Dreadfull Armes, I Beare, No Warfare Bring

  To Your Sweet Toile, Nor Those Sweet Tunes You Sing.

 

 

 

  8.

 

 

 

  But Father, Since This Land, These Townes And Towres,

  Destroied are With Sword, With Fire And Spoile,

  How May It Be, Unhurt, That You And Yours

  In safetie Thus, Applie Your Harmlesse Toile?

  My Sonne (Quoth He) This Pore Estate Of Ours

  Is Euer Safe From Storme Of Warlike Broile;

  This Wildernesse Doth Vs In safetie Keepe,

  No Thundring drum, No Trumpet Breakes Our Sleepe.

 

 

 

  9.

 

 

 

  Haply Iust Heau'N'S Defence And Shield Of Right,

  Doth Loue The Innocence Of Simple Swaines,

  The Thunderbolts On Highest Mountains Light,

  And Seld Or Neuer Strike The Lower Plaines:

  So Kings Haue Cause To Feare Bellonaes Might,

  Not They Whose Sweat And Toile Their Dinner Gaines,

  Nor Ever Greedie Soldier Was Entised

  By Pouertie, Neglected and Despised.

 

 

 

  10.

 

 

 

  O Pouertie, Chefe Of The Heau'Nly Brood,

  Dearer To Me Than Wealth Or Kingly Crowne!

  No Wish For Honour, Thirst Of Other'S Good,

  Can Moue My Hart, Contented with My Owne:

  We Quench Our Thirst With Water Of This Flood,

  Nor Fear We Poison Should Therein Be Throwne:

  These Little Flocks Of Sheepe And Tender Goates

  Giue Milke For Food, And Wooll To Make Us Coates.

 

 

 

  11.

 

 

 

  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

  Their Father'S Flocks, Nor Servants Moe I Need:

  Amid These Groues I Walke Oft For My Health,

  And To The Fishes, Birds, And Beastes Giue Heed,

  How They Are Fed, In forrest, Spring and Lake,

  And Their Contentment For Ensample Take.

 

 

 

  12.

 

 

 

  Time Was (For Each One Hath His Doting time,

  These Siluer Locks Were Golden Tresses Than)

  That Countrie Life I Hated as A Crime,

  And From The Forrests Sweet Contentment Ran,

  To Memphis Stately Pallace Would I Clime,

  And There Became The Mightie Caliphes Man,

  And Though I But A Simple Gardner Weare,

  Yet Could I Marke Abuses, See And Heare.

 

 

 

  13.

 

 

 

  Entised on With Hope Of Future Gaine,

  I Suffred long What Did My Soule Displease;

  But When My Youth Was Spent, My Hope Was Vaine,

  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.

 

 

 

  14.

 

 

 

  While Thus He Spake, Erminia Husht And Still

  His Wise Discourses Heard, With Great Attention,

  His Speeches Graue Those Idle Fancies Kill,

  Which In her Troubled soule Bred such Dissention;

  After Much Thought Reformed was Her Will,

  Within Those Woods To Dwell Was Her Intention,

  Till Fortune Should Occasion New Afford,

  To Turne Her Home To Her Desired lord.

 

 

 

  15.

 

 

 

  She Said, Therefore, O Shepherd Fortunate!

  That Troubles Some Didst Whilom Feele And Proue,

  Yet Liuest Now In this Contented state,

  Let My Mishap Thy Thoughts To Pitie Moue,

  To Entertaine Me, As A Willing mate

  In shepherd'S Life, Which I Admire And Loue;

  Within These Pleasant Groues, Perchance, My Hart

  Of Her Discomforts May Vnload Some Part.

 

 

 

  16.

 

 

 

  If Gold Or Wealth, Of Most Esteemed deare,

  If Iewells Rich, Thou Diddest Hold In prise,

  Such Store Thereof, Such Plentie Have I Seen,

  As To A Greedie Minde Might Well Suffice:

  With That Downe Trickled many A Siluer Teare,

  Two Christall Streams Fell From Her Watrie Eies;

  Part Of Her Sad Misfortunes Than She Told,

  And Wept, And With Her Wept That Shepherd Old.

 

 

 

  17.

 

 

 

  With Speeches Kinde, He Gan The Virgin Deare

  Towards His Cottage Gently Home To Guide;

  His Aged wife There Made Her Homely Cheare,

  Yet Welcomde Her, And Plast Her By Her Side.

  The Princesse Dond A Poore Pastoraes Geare,

  A Kerchiefe Course Vpon Her Head She Tide;

  But Yet Her Gestures And Her Lookes (I Gesse)

  Were Such As Ill Beseem'D A Shepherdesse.

 

 

 

  18.

 

 

 

  Not Those Rude Garments Could Obscure, And Hide

  The Heau'Nly Beautie Of Her Angel'S Face,

  Nor Was Her Princely Ofspring damnifide,

  Or Ought Disparag'De, By Those Labours Bace;

  Her Little Flocks To Pasture Would She Guide,

  And Milke Her Goates, And In their Folds Them Place,

  Both Cheese And Butter Could She Make, And Frame

  Her Selfe To Please The Shepherd And His Dame.

 

 

 

[Footnote 82: Preface To His Fables. Dr. J.]

 

 

 

[Footnote 83: This Speech Has Been Retrieved, From A Paper Printed at

That Time, By The Writers Of The Parliamentary History. Dr.J.]

 

 

 

[Footnote 84: Parliamentary History, Vol. Xii. Dr. J.]

 

 

 

[Footnote 85: Life Of Waller Prefixed to An Edition Of His Works,

Published in 1773, By Percival Stockdale. C.]

 

 

 

[Footnote 86: Sir John Davies, Entitled, Nosce Teipsum. This Oracle

Expounded in two Elegies; 1. Of