The author died in 1654 and was
buried where my forefathers ashes sleepe.
buried where my forefathers ashes sleepe.
Cambridge History of English Literature - 1908 - v07
A copious use of epithets,
which are generally felicitous, a free use of alliteration and
an ecstatic emphasis are already characteristic of his style.
The eighteenth century, peculiarly disqualified from appreciating
Crashaw's religious enthusiasm, retained an interest for Sospetto,
mainly because of its connection with Milton. Pride of place
was given in The Delights of the Muses to a translation of a
Jesuit schoolmaster's rhetorical exercise, on which Ford also
employed his skill in The Lovers Melancholy. The nightingale's
song has never had such lavish delineation as in Musicks duell;
but the poem is too ingenious and sophisticated to give the
atmosphere of the country. There is far more charm in the dainty
song from the Italian, To thy Lover, Deere, discover, and in Come
and let us live my Deare, from Catullus. Translations of Latin
hymns occupy a large space, especially in his last volume. They
have great merit, but seldom the particular merit of the originals.
Thus, his Dies Irae has many beauties and fine touches, but it
fails to represent the masculine strength of the Latin. Even
Vexilla Regis cannot escape his favourite phrase, a 'full nest
of loves. ' His warm, sensuous imagination kindles with his
subject, and he passes only too easily into 'a sweet inebriated
ecstasy. '
Crashaw did better work when he relied upon himself, as in
Loves Horoscope and Wishes. To his (supposed) Mistresse. It is
only this last-named example which makes one's faith waver in
Crashaw's own judgment that his secular was inferior to his sacred
The airy metre of Wishes, with its lengthening lines, is
exactly fitted to its graceful humour. But, delicate as this poem is,
it cannot sustain a comparison with his Hymne to St Teresa. The
one is intense with passion, the other is playful and superficial.
"The very outgoings of the soule’are in the divine poems; there is
grace and dainty trifling, but no more, in the love poems. Nowhere
in the secular poems do we find the elan, the surrender to an
inspiration, the uprush of feeling which carries all before it.
Crashaw's passionate outbursts, with their flaming brilliancy, and
their quick-moving lines, are hard to parallel in the language, and
verse,
6
## p. 37 (#53) ##############################################
Crashaw's Qualities
37
it is his ardent religious emotion which sets them on fire. He may
borrow too freely, for some tastes, from the language of amorous
poetry; but it was natural to him to call St Teresa ‘my rosy love'
or the Virgin a 'rosy princess,' and he serves them with a noble
chivalrous devotion.
There are as serious faults in his sacred, as in his secular, poems.
Indeed, the faults are more apparent, because they occur in a
finer setting. Crashaw's failures are peculiarly exasperating,
because they spoil work which had greater potentialities than
that of many poets who have maintained a better level. There
are inspired moments, when he outdistances all his rivals, as in
the lines which he added to his first version of The Flaming
Heart, or in the fuller version of the poem To the Countess of
Denbigh Vaughan may disappoint by long stretches of flatness,
but Crashaw more often gives positive offence by an outrageous
conceit, by gaudy colour, by cloying sweetness or by straining
of an idea which has been squeezed dry. His defective powers
of self-criticism make Crashaw the most unequal of our poets.
The Weeper contains some of his best and some of his worst
lines That he had no sureness of touch in reviewing his own
work, becomes clear when it is noticed that many of the verses
in The Weeper which have alienated his readers were either
additions to the original version, or disastrously misplaced. In
the revised form, a verse which few can read without distaste
is followed by these perfect lines :
Not in the evening's eyes
When they red with weeping are
For the Sun that dyes,
Sitts sorrow with a face so fair;
No where but here did over meet
Sweetnesse so sad, sadnesse so sweet.
Within a few months of Crashaw's death, the first part of Silex
Scintillans had appeared (1650). Henry Vaughan, the elder of
twins, was born on 17 April 1621, at Newton St Bridget on the
Usk, in the parish of Llansantffread near Brecon. His chosen name,
Silurist, expresses his intimate love of the Welsh mountains and
valleys, with their rocks and streams, woodlands and solitary
places, among which he spent his childhood and all the years of
his professional life. Both he and his twin brother Thomas ex-
press their debt to Matthew Herbert, rector of Llangattock,
who schooled them for six years, before they went up to Jesus
.
I see
care
## p. 38 (#54) ##############################################
38
The Sacred Poets
college, Oxford, in 1638? He acquired sufficient Latinity to find
his chief reading, outside his professional studies and contemporary
poetry, in the fathers of the church. He left Oxford for London,
with the idea of studying for the law, but, at some date unknown,
abandoned it for medicine. The only record of these London
days is in the slight little volume of Poems, with the tenth Satyre
of Juvenal Englished, which he printed in 1646. Except for some
feeling for nature, there is nothing that anticipates the distinctive
quality of Silex Scintillans. The love-songs to Amoret, in which
he reveals his kinship with Jonson, Donne and Habington, are
not original enough to suggest that he would ever have risen
above what half a dozen of the court poets were doing at least
as well. More interesting is the literary flavour which he tries
to give to the book, in the opening poem, with its homage to
'Great Ben' and Randolph, and in the Rhapsodis on the Globe
tavern. He would have his readers believe that he is of the
school of Ben, and seeks inspiration in churchwarden pipes and
'royal witty sack, the poet's soul. ' It may be nothing more than
a youthful pose, with its suggestion of duns and debts, full cups
and the disorderly Strand, but their author took it seriously
when, in his preface of 1654, he 'most humbly and earnestly'
begged that none would read his early poems.
Before the end of the next year (1647), Vaughan, apparently,
had settled down to the life of the country, and wrote from
'Newton by Usk'a dedication to Olor Iscanus. The book, however,
did not appear till 1651, and, even then, only under another's
auspices, the author having ‘long ago condemned these poems to
obscurity. The reason for this postponement is the crisis in
Vaughan’s life, which will be more fitly described in connection
with the issue of Silex. The poem which gave its name to Olor
Iscanus sings the praise of the Usk. It has reminiscences of
Browne's Pastorals. Denham’s Cooper's Hill had already appeared,
but its most famous lines on the Thames were not inserted till
after Vaughan's lines were written. The most remarkable, if,
also, the strangest, poem in the collection is the Donne-like
Charnel House. Its forcible epithets—shoreless thoughts, vast
tenter'd hope'-and its array of odd words and similes compel
attention in spite of its morbid cast of thought. There are not
1 Doubt has sometimes been thrown on Anthony & Wood's statement that Henry
spent two years or more in logicals under a noted tutor' at Oxford; but it is confirmed
by Vaughan's letter to Aubrey (Wood's constant source of information), in which he says
that he stayed not at Oxford to take any degree. ' Aubrey's Brief Lives, vol. II, p. 269.
## p. 39 (#55) ##############################################
Vaughan's Secular Poems
39
6
any love poems, but many memorials of friendship, which had
ever a large place in Vaughan's thoughts. The bulk of the work
clearly belongs to the period before Silex was written, and re-
flects the atmosphere of the 1646 volume, with its allusions to
debts and gay living, and its complimentary verses upon secular
writers, D'Avenant, John Fletcher, 'the ever-memorable Mr
William Cartwright' and 'the matchless Orinda. ' The poems
about his friends who took part in the civil war suggest, but do
not clearly settle, the question whether the poet himself took any
active part. There are passages where he takes satisfaction in
the thought that his hands are clean of 'innocent blood. ' On
the other hand, he alludes to a time when this juggling fate of
soldiery first seiz'd me,' and also seems to write as an eyewitness
of the battle of Rowton heath? There are more signs of his hatred
of existing authority than of any active enthusiasm for the royal
cause, except that the poem to Thomas Powell, his ‘loyal fellow-
prisoner,' and a prayer in adversity, in The Mount of Olives, seem
to imply that, then or later, he suffered in property and person.
The poem that affords the greatest chronological difficulty is
called "To his retired friend, an Invitation to Brecknock. ' The
words, ‘since Charles, his reign,' seem to demand a date after the
king's execution, but it is difficult to reconcile its flippant, reckless
tone with the consistently serious temper of Silex, which was
published in 1650. Perhaps the poet counted Charles's reign as
over with the crushing defeat of 1645, and so the poem may be
contemporary with others of its kind and not with the poems of
Silex. One of the few poems which are certainly late, the epitaph.
on the little lady Elizabeth, who died of grief at Carisbrooke in
September 1650, is a worthy companion of Vaughan's best work.
The turning point in Vaughan's spiritual and literary history
occurs somewhere in the period preceding the publication of the
first part of Silex Scintillans (1650). There are many indications
in this volume, and in the preface which he wrote in 1654 for the
second part (1655), that he underwent a prolonged and painful
sickness, which nearly cost him his life. Even in 1654, he believes
himself to be 'at no great distance from death,' though he hopes
that he is spared to make amends for a misspent youth. In
language that appears excessive, at any rate in view of any.
thing that he published, he deplores his share in the 'foul and
overflowing stream' of corrupting literature, and ascribes his
1 The tempting solution, that he was present as a surgeon, must be set aside,
because his medical studies were probably not begun till later.
## p. 40 (#56) ##############################################
40
The Sacred Poets
change of view to the blessed man, Mr George Herbert, whose holy
life and verse gained many pious converts, of whom I am the least. '
The nature of Vaughan's obligations to Herbert has been the
subject of much controversy. The first and greatest debt is that
Herbert directed Vaughan's genius into the channel where only
it achieved notable and lasting success. Vaughan found himself
in Silea Scintillans; even the few successes outside that volume,
like The Eagle and the Epitaph on the lady Elizabeth, were
written after his conversion. What readers have cared to re-
member are not his poems to Amoret and Etesia, or the occasional
verse to friends and literary idols, with its jaunty tone and
petulant impatience of the time's ridiculous misery,' but the
remote, timeless, mysterious poems of Silex Scintillans. It is
credit enough to the older poet to have given his disciple
spiritual quickening and the gift of gracious feeling. But the
influence of Herbert, for better and for worse, is literary as well
as spiritual. Recent editors of Vaughan, by their extensive
collections of parallel passages, have placed it beyond dispute
that the younger writer, in his new-born enthusiasm for "holy
Herbert,' modelled himself on the author of The Temple. Many
of his poems are little more than resettings of Herbert's thought
and very words ; even the best poems, where Vaughan is most
original, have verbal reminiscences, which show how he soaked
himself in Herbert's poems. Sometimes, familiar words have
received a subtle transmutation ; sometimes, they have only
enslaved Vaughan to his disadvantage. The little tricks of
Herbert's style—the abrupt openings, the questions and ejacu-
lations, the homely words and conceits, the whimsical titles
are employed by Vaughan as his very framework. In the matter
of form, Vaughan failed to learn what Herbert had to teach.
He knows less well than Herbert when to stop, and, after
beginning with lines of such intensity as Herbert could never
have written, he is apt to lose his way and forfeit the interest
of his readers.
The real contributions of Vaughan to literature are, naturally,
those poems where he is most himself and calls no man master.
His mind and temper are essentially distinct from Herbert's.
After the change in his life, he becomes detached in mind from
the ordinary interests and ideas of his times, with which he was
in any case out of sympathy, and, as with a true mystic, his
thoughts move in a rarer, remoter air. He may dutifully follow
Herbert in celebrating the festivals of the church ; but such
## p. 41 (#57) ##############################################
Vaughan's Sacred Poems
41
concrete themes do not suit him like the more mysterious and
abstract themes of eternity, communion with the dead, nature and
childhood. The death of a younger brother occasioned a sequence
of poems in which the note of personal loss, poignant though it is,
is not more prominent than a wistful brooding over man's re-
lations with the unseen and the eternal. This theme receives
yet finer treatment in two of his best-known poems, The World
and They are all gone into the world of light. The Retreat
combines this theme with another, the innocence of childhood,
which recurs in Corruption and Childhood. In The Retreat,
which has the added interest of being the germ of Words-
worth's ode', Intimations of Immortality, Vaughan achieves a
simplicity of expression which is rare with him. Some of his
most perfect work occurs where both thought and expression
are simple, as in Peace, The Burial of an Infant, or Christ's
Nativity. More often his gift of expression is not sustained, and
the magic of the opening lines, e. g.
I saw Eternity the other night,
Like a great Ring of pure and endless light,
soon deserts him. His workmanship becomes defective, his
rhythms halting and his expression crabbed.
Another link with Wordsworth is Vaughan's intimate and
religious feeling for nature, He has an open-air love for all
natural sights and sounds, and a subtle sympathy even with the
fallen timber or the stones at his feet. He is happier away from
the world of men, and can rejoice equally in
Dear Night! this world's defeat, the stop to busy fools,
and in the stir that heralds the dawn. It is in his observation of
nature that he achieves his most felicitous epithets—the unthrift
sun,' 'the pursy clouds' and 'purling corn. ' The setting of
these natural descriptions is usually religious, as in The Rainbow
or The Dawning ; but the lover of nature is as apparent as the
mystical thinker.
Into the space of half a dozen years, Vaughan crowded all
his best work. His prose translations and original books of
devotion belong to the same period. The Mount of Olives reveals
the occasions of many of his poems, and shows that he has been
wrongly described as a pantheist. The silence of the forty years
that he had yet to live is broken only by Thalia Rediviva (1678).
Trench elicited the interesting fact that Wordsworth owned & copy of Silex
Scintillans, at that time a rare book. Household Book of English Poetry, 2nd ed.
.
## p. 42 (#58) ##############################################
42
The Sacred Poets
For this volume, as for Olor Iscanus, the author did not make
himself responsible. Most of its contents clearly belong to
earlier days. A few poems only appear to have been written
after the restoration; for example, The True Christmas, which
;
shows Vaughan to be as little in sympathy with the laxity of the
monarchy as with the tyranny of the commonwealth. There is
an echo of his former successes in The Retirement and other
numbers of the section, which is called Pious Thoughts and
Ejaculations. The volume is also interesting because it contains
the verse-remains of his brother, 'Eugenius Philalethes,' who
died in 1666. Of Henry Vaughan, there is no further record,
except some casual allusions in the correspondence of his cousin,
John Aubrey, till the record of his tombstone in Llansantffread
churchyard, commemorating his death on 23 April 1695, at the
age of 73! His retired life was in keeping with his small fame
as a writer. He knew that his writing was 'cross to fashion,' and
only one of his books reached a second edition ; with that exception,
nothing was reprinted for nearly two hundred years. He holds
his place now, not for the mass of his work, but for a few
unforgettable lines, and for a rare vein of thought, which re-
mained almost unworked again till Wordsworth’s nature poems
and Tennyson's In Memoriam.
6
The religious and mystical literature of the seventeenth century
has been recently enriched by Bertram Dobell's discovery of
Thomas Traherne, who is specially welcome for his fresh and
interesting outlook on life. Like Herbert and Vaughan, he
came from the Welsh borders, and had his full share of Celtic
fervour. The son of a Hereford shoemaker, he entered Brasenose
college, Oxford, in 1652, and graduated in arts and divinity. He
was admitted in 16577 to the rectory of Credenhill, near Hereford,
where he remained for about ten years, until, in 1667, he was
made chaplain to Sir Orlando Bridgman, on his appointment as
lord keeper, when the Cabal ministry took office. After seven
years in this service, Traherne died in his patron's house at
Teddington, near Hampton court, and was buried on 10 October
1674, ‘in the Church there, under the reading-desk. ' According
1 According to the tombstone: but he completed 74 years six days before his death,
? If Traherne was of canonical age at the time of his institution, this may,
perhaps, indicate the year of his birth as not later than 1634, though it has been usual
to give 1636 on the assumption that he was sixteen when he matriculated in 1652.
Crashaw went to Cambridge at the age of eighteen, and a poor student like Traberne.
may well bave found difficulty in going up earlier.
了
.
## p. 43 (#59) ##############################################
Thomas Traherne
43
to Anthony à Wood, he always led a simple and devout life ;
his will shows that he possessed little beyond his books, and
thought it worth while to bequeath his 'old hat. '
In his lifetime, he published only Roman Forgeries (1673),
which might be left to slumber, except for its preface, showing
his scholarly love of the Bodleian library, 'which is the glory of
Oxford, and this nation. ' Just before his death, he sent to the
press Christian Ethics (1675), and, a quarter of a century later, the
non-juring divine, George Hickes, printed anonymously, with a
friend's account of the nameless author, A serious and patheticall
Contemplation of the Mercies of God. This latter work contained
thanksgivings for all the common blessings of life, arranged
rhythmically, much in the manner of bishop Andrewes's Devotions.
The rest of Traherne's works remained in manuscript till the
Poems were printed in 1903, and Centuries of Meditations in
1908. Another octavo volume of meditations and devotions is
still extant in manuscript.
All these works, except the controversial volume, reveal an
original mind, dominated by certain characteristic thoughts, which
are commended to the reader by a glowing rhetoric and a fine
conviction of their sufficiency. Like Vaughan, Traherne retains
an idyllic remembrance of the innocence and spiritual insight of
childhood, and insists that he ‘must become a child again. ' The
child knew nothing of 'churlish proprieties,' and rightly regarded
himself as 'heir of the whole world':
Long time before
I in my mother's womb was born,
A God preparing did this glorious store
The world for me adorn.
Into His Eden so divine and fair,
So wide and bright, I come His son and heir.
Only with much ado' was the child taught by his elders to prize
gew-gaws above the common things of earth and sky; it was a
difficult matter to persuade me that the tinseled ware upon a
hobby-horse was a fine thing. But the lesson was successfully
taught, and now, for the man who would recover felicity, there
was no remedy left but to get free of 'the burden and cumber
of devised wants,' and to recognise again the true wealth of
earth's commonest gifts. Man could do God Himself no greater
homage than to delight in His creation:
Our blessedness to see
ls eren to the Deity
A Beatific Vision! He attains
His Ends while we enjoy. In us He reigns.
>
## p. 44 (#60) ##############################################
44
The Sacred Poets
It is a fortunate circumstance that Traherne has given parallel
expression to his leading ideas both in verse and in prose, as it
affords an opportunity of estimating which medium was the better
at his command. His mind was poetic and imaginative rather
than philosophic and logical, and yet it may be urged, with some
confidence, that he achieved more unquestionable success with his
prose than with his verse. Even the opening poems on the
thoughts of childhood, beautiful as they are, have nothing so
striking as the corresponding prose passage, which begins : The
corn was orient and immortal wheat, which never should be
reaped, nor was ever sown. I thought it had stood from ever-
lasting to everlasting. Again, the poems on Thoughts, as being
every man’s ‘substantial treasures,' are less flowing and musical
than such lines as these :
I can visit Noah in his ark, and swim upon the waters of the deluge. I can
see Moses with his rod, and the children of Israel passing through the sea. . . .
I can visit Solomon in his glory, and go into his temple, and view the sitting
of his servants, and admire the magnificence and glory of his kingdom. No
ereature but one like unto the Holy Angels can see into all ages. . . . It is not
by going with the feet, but by journeys of the Soul, that we travel thither.
Such writing as this has some of the magical quality and personal
note of Sir Thomas Browne's Religio Medici.
As a poet, Traherne has not mastered his technique. His
poems are often diffuse and full of repetitions. He is obsessed
with the rime, 'treasures' and 'pleasures,' using it on page after
page; and, even for an age that was not careful of such things,
the proportion of defective rimes is high. The categorical habit,
also, has had disastrous effects, in unbroken strings of fifteen
nouns in one poem, thirteen adjectives in another, fourteen par-
ticiples in a third. In other poems, the didactic purpose gets the
upper hand, and we hear the preacher's voice: This, my dear
friends, this was my blessed case. ' In spite of such poems as
Wonder, News, Silence and The Ways of Wisdom, he wrote
nothing in verse that is so arresting as his rhetorical prose:
You never enjoy the world aright, till the Sea itself floweth in your veins,
till you are clothed with the heavens, and crowned with the stars: and per-
ceive yourself to be the sole heir of the whole world, and more than so, because
men are in it who are every one sole heirs as well as you.
The success of Herbert's Temple inevitably produced a crop
of imitations, ranging from Christopher Harvey's Synagogue,
which, by being bound up with The Temple in many editions
from 1640 onwards, achieved a reputation beyond its deserts,
1
1
1
## p. 45 (#61) ##############################################
William Habington
45
down to the doggerel and wholesale plagiarism of Samuel
Speed's Prison Pietie (1677). Vaughan rightly complained of
these facile imitators that they cared more for verse than
perfection. ' Those of Herbert's contemporaries who attempted
sacred verse without falling under his influence deserve more
consideration. To right and to left of Herbert stand William
Habington and Francis Quarles. Both belong by birth to the
country gentry; but the former found readers only among his
own class, while the latter was more successful than any writer of
his time in gauging the protestant religious feeling of English-
men at large. Habington's associations from birth onwards were
with the Roman Catholic minority. He was born at Hindlip hall
near Worcester, a house famous for its concealment of priests,
on the very day on which the Gunpowder plot was discovered
in consequence (so tradition has said) of his mother's letter to
lord Monteagle. His father was an antiquary, whose History of
Edward IV the son completed and published in 1640. William
Habington, after being educated at St Omer and Paris with a
view to his becoming a priest, returned to England and, probably
in the early months of 1633, married Lucy Herbert, youngest
daughter of the first baron Powis. Her praises he celebrated
in Castara, which he published anonymously in 1634. The two
parts of which it then consisted contain poems of courtship and
of marriage. A new edition of Castara, a year later, revealed the
author's name, and added to the second part a set of eight elegies
on his friend, George Talbot, which would more properly have
constituted a third part, and three characters of a mistress, a
wife and a friend, introducing the three sections. In 1640, a
third edition included an entirely new third part, consisting of
a character of 'A Holy Man,' and a collection of sacred poems.
The author recognises that he may be thought ‘a Precisian' for
his unfashionable praise of chastity, but he would not win even
'the spreadingst laurell’by writing wanton or profane. ' In the
third part, he leaves the theme of earthly love to the soft silken
youths at Court,' and is full of self-accusation that he should
ever have handled the theme, however purely. There is a
sombre and monotonous strain running through this third part.
Advancing death, empty fame and decay of the tomb itself are its
constant subjects. Unlike Traherne, he hardly finds life worth
enjoying, with death awaiting him:
And should I farme the proudest state,
I'me Tennant to uncertaine fate.
There is grim humour in the description of his deathbed, where
## p. 46 (#62) ##############################################
46
The Sacred Poets
6
he seems to be a mourner at his own obsequies. He can put
no trust in the predictions of astrologer or doctor :
They onely practise how to make
A mistery of each mistake.
In most of the poems there are occasional fine lines, as in the
welcome to death as a safe retreat,
Where the leane slave, who th' Oare doth plye,
Soft as his Admirall may lye.
More sustained excellence is found in the poems Nox nocti
indicat Scientiam, Et exultavit Humiles and Cupio dissolvi.
But, in many of these meditative and frigid poems, the thought
is commonplace and uncommended by graceful expression, or
accent of sincerity. Defects of workmanship rather than of taste
mar his work; he judged himself rightly, when he admitted in
his preface that he needed to spend ‘more sweate and oyle,' if he
would aspire to the name of poet. Greater pains might have
eliminated his excessive use of the expletive 'do,' many weak
rime-endings, clumsy syntax and harsh elisions (e. g. 'th' An’chrits
prayer,' ''mid th' horrors,' 'sh' admires,' 'so 'bhors'). In the
same year as the complete Castara, appeared The Queene of
Arragon. A Tragi-Comedie.
The author died in 1654 and was
buried where my forefathers ashes sleepe. ' His own modest
estimate of his verses will not be challenged, that they are not
so high, as to be wondred at, nor so low as to be contemned. '
Quarles was as little affected as was Habington by the school of
Donne. His chief literary idol was Phineas Fletcher, 'the Spenser
of this age. He was born in 1592 at his father's manor house
.
of Stewards, near Romford in Essex. After studying at Cam-
bridge and Lincoln's inn, he went abroad, like his contemporary
Ferrar, in the train of the princess Elizabeth, on her marriage
with the elector palatine. After his return to England, he seems
to have lived partly in Essex, and partly in Ireland as secretary to
Ussher. In 1639, he became chronologer to the city of London. His
advocacy of the king's cause in a series of pamphlets led to his pro-
perty being sequestrated, his manuscripts burnt and his character
traduced in a petition to parliament. This last misfortune, ac-
cording to his widow, worried him into his grave (1644). His
literary career began in 1620 with A Feast for Wormes, a para-
phrase of the book of Jonah. He gauged popular taste accurately
in employing a facile, straightforward style, much familiar wisdom
and pious allegory, an abundance of metaphors and similes from
common life, but no difficult conceits of the fashionable kind.
Divine Fancies (1632) gave a better taste of his quality, and
6
## p. 47 (#63) ##############################################
Francis Quarles
47
anticipated, in The World's a Theater, some of the success which
attended Emblemes (1635), the most famous English example of
a class of writing which began with the Milanese doctor, Alciati,
a century earlier. Visible poetry. . . catching the eye and fancy
at one draught' had a fascination for most religious writers.
When Herbert moralised on the speckled church-floor, he was near
falling under this influence. Crashaw designed his own emblems
for his last volume; while Silex Scintillans took its name from the
frontispiece of a flinty heart struck with a thunderbolt, and began
with a poem, Authoris de se Emblema. It is fortunate that these
writers, who could do better things, escaped lightly from this
misleading fashion. It is as fortunate that Quarles found in it
the means of doing his best work. Most of the woodcut illus-
trations, and much of the moralising, he took straight from the
Jesuit Herman Hugo's Pia Desideria (1624). But Quarles had
something better to give than 'wit at the second hand. ' If his
ingenuity and his morality are commonly better than his poetry,
at times he rises above his mere task-work to original and forcible
writing, as in False World, thou ly'st, or in the picturesque
comparison of the weary soul with the haggard, cloister'd in
her mew. Sometimes, he reveals an unexpectedly musical quality,
as in the skilful use which he makes of the refrain, 'Sweet
Phosphor, bring the day, and his least attractive pages are
brightened by some daring epithet or felicitous turn of expression.
His liveliness and good sense, his free use of homely words and
notions and his rough humour are enough to account for, and to
justify, his popularity.
Of all these writers it may be said that their sacred themes did
not lead them to avoid the literary fashions of their day: they
and the secular poets trod the same paths. They enjoyed the
same delight in ingenuity, the same fearless use of hyberbole,
the same passion for finding likenesses and unlikenesses in all
manner of unrelated things; and they escaped the commoner
faults of religious poetry, its obviousness, its reliance upon stock
phrases, its tameness. Nor, with all their artificiality, is their
sincerity open to suspicion. They were sacred poets, not from
fashion or interest, but from choice and conviction. 'The very
outgoings of the soule' are to be found alike in Herbert's searching
of heart, in Crashaw's ecstasy and in Vaughan's mystical rapture.
## p. 48 (#64) ##############################################
CHAPTER III
WRITERS OF THE COUPLET
No dogma of Dryden and the critics who were his contem-
poraries is more familiar than that which gave Edmund Waller
the credit of bringing about a revolution in English verse. Dryden
wrote, in 1664 :
the excellence and dignity of it [i. e. rime) were never fully known till
Mr Waller taught it; he first made writing easily an art; first showed us to
conclude the sense, most commonly in distichs, which, in the verse of those
before him, runs on for so many lines together, that the reader is out of
breath to overtake it 1.
8
:
The author of the preface to the second part of Waller's poems
(1690) indulged in eulogy without qualification :
The reader needs be told no more in commendation of these Poems, than
that they are Mr Waller's; a name that carries everything in it that is either
great or graceful in poetry. He was, indeed, the parent of English verse, and
the first that showed us our tongue had beauty and numbers in it. . . . The
tongue came into his hands like a rough diamond: he polished it first, and to
that degree, that all artists since him have admired the workmanship, without
pretending to mend it.
These words represent the general conviction of an age in
which smoothness of rhythm and terseness of language were in-
dispensable conditions of poetry. The self-contained couplet
became the universal medium to which these tests were applied ;
and in Waller's couplets the age found the earliest form of verse
which answered them satisfactorily. Waller, during the last thirty
years of his life, must have been thoroughly familiar with the
reputation which he enjoyed as the improver of our numbers ;
but it would be difficult to discover any set purpose or novel
poetical theory underlying the form of the poems which made
him famous. The decasyllabic couplet had been employed very
generally, among other forms, by Elizabethan writers; and, in
1 Dedication of The Rival Ladies (Works, ed. Scott (Saintsbury's ed. ), vol. I,
p. 187). See, also, preface to Fables, 1700 (ibid. vol. II, pp. 209, 210).
## p. 49 (#65) ##############################################
Sir John Beaumont
49
Englands Heroicall Epistles, written before the end of the six-
teenth century, Drayton had given an example of couplet-writing
in which there is as little overlapping of the sense from couplet
to couplet as in any of Waller's most admired poems. But
the general tendency of those poets of the former age' who
used the couplet was to overstep the limits which Drayton
instinctively felt that it imposed. Its bounds were too narrow
for the richness of imagination which distinguished the followers
of Marlowe or of Spenser, and for the elaboration of thought
with which younger poets followed the example of Donne. Those
bounds were better suited to Jonson; but, although much of
his work in this form anticipates the practice of a later age,
his
abrupt vigour of language and his natural fluency were against
consistency in his handling of the couplet. In many cases, where
one couplet was allowed to pass into the next without any break
of sense or construction, and where this continued for many lines
together, the demands of melody prevented the poet from in-
dulging in weak rimes, or ending one couplet with a conjunction
or preposition which bound it to its successor ; but, among the
lesser poets of the Stewart epoch, such tricks became increasingly
common, until, in poems like Chamberlayne's Pharonnida,
sentences were carried on without a break through couplet after
couplet. The casual beauties of such passages are hidden by
a pedantic neglect of form, which amounts to a point of honour
with the writer. Sir John Beaumont, in a set of couplets addressed
to James I, lamented the prevailing formlessness of English poetry,
demanding, in place of ‘balting feet' and defective accents, ragged
rime,' 'fetter'd staves' and obscure language, a type of verse
the requirements of which are most nearly met by the closed
couplet.
The lines To His Late Majesty, concerning the True Forme of
English Poetry, not published till 1629, were, probably, written
soon after the publication of the works of James I in 1616. Sir
John Beaumont was a friend of Drayton, and may have had the
characteristics of Englands Heroicall Epistles before his mind
as he wrote. Drayton, also, was the friend, and, in no small
degree, the master, of George Sandys, who has some importance
in the history of the couplet. Sandys, born on 2 March 1577/8,
was the youngest son of Edwin Sandys, archbishop of York. He
entered St Mary hall, Oxford, in 1589; but nothing further is
known of him until, in 1610, he began his travels in the east, the
relation of which he published, with a dedication to the prince
4
E. L. VII.
CH. III.
## p. 50 (#66) ##############################################
50
Writers of the Couplet
of Wales, in 1615. In August 1621, he went to America, as
treasurer of the English company for the colony of Virginia, with
the governor of the colony, his brother-in-law, Sir Francis Wyatt.
There can be no doubt that, before he went, the first five books of
his translation of Ovid's Metamorphoses had appeared in print.
No copy of this publication has been traced ; and Sandys, in
his preface to the whole translation, published in 1626, implies
that the work was done during his residence in Virginia. How-
ever, there is an elegy by Drayton addressed to Sandys, which
was written very soon after Sandys's departure, and contains
historical allusions to events in the Thirty Years' war which shew
that it was composed in the winter of 1621–2. Drayton praises
the first five books of the Metamorphoses already translated,
and begs his correspondent to let's see what lines Virginia
will produce. ' Aided by such encouragement, Sandys persevered,
dedicating the day, as he tells Charles I, 'to the service of your
Great Father, and your Selfe,' and 'that unperfect light, which
was snatcht from the houres of night and repose' to the com-
pletion of his translation, and, probably, the polishing of its
earlier books.
The influence of the study of Ovid upon a more concise and
pointed type of couplet had been already a remarkable feature of
Drayton's poetry. Sandys endeavoured to translate as literally as
possible. In the end, his translation exceeded the original by
only some eleven hundred lines. He is sometimes excessively
literal. When auxiliary brasse resounds in vaine’ is an almost
too exact rendering of Cum frustra resonent aera auxiliaria'
'I see the better, I approve it too; The worse I follow' is faithful
to its original, without reproducing its real force? Wilful em-
broidery on the text is sometimes admitted, where a few additional
words give a picturesque or dramatic touch to the context. Thus,
in these lines from the tale of Pyramus and Thisbe,
M
与
!
6
1
When Pyramus, who came not forth so soone,
Perceived by the glimpses of the Moone
The footing of wild Beasts 3;
and, in this couplet from the tale of Salmacis and Hermaphro-
ditus,
Her sisters oft would say; Fie, Salmacis,
Fie lazie sister, what a sloth is this 4 !
1
2
IV, 372 (Ovid, iv, 333).
iv, 115, 116 (IV, 105, 106).
VII, 25, 26 (v11, 20, 21).
IV, 339 (iv, 305, 306).
3
## p. 51 (#67) ##############################################
George Sandys
51
6
the italicised words are not even implied by Ovid. More often,
probably, Sandys aimed at condensing the sense of the Latin in
his English, where an effect was possible. As a rule, however,
he renders Ovid's sense with extraordinary faithfulness, and in
verse which is strong and melodious. Nowhere are his ability
and ingenuity so apparent as in passages containing long lists of
names of persons or places. The relish which, as a traveller, he
must have found in Ovid's enumeration of the mountains and
rivers affected by Phaëthon's experiment with his father's horses
is clearly apparent? A love of outdoor sport, which elsewhere
suggests casual words and phrases, led him to find appropriate
English equivalents for the names which Ovid gives to Actaeon's
hounds? : his account of the tragedy gains strength thereby.
In almost every part of the poem we may find passages of
vigour and picturesqueness, sustained for many lines together.
Such are the descriptions of the cave of Envy8; of the plague*;
of Pythagoras and his vegetarian counsels"; and the comparison
of the ages of man to the seasons. In his rendering of the
good-natured story of Baucis and Philemon,' Sandys works with
that simplicity of language which the homely subject demands? .
He was not habitually superior to what he would have called
the 'ambages' of his contemporaries. Richard Hooper, the
editor of his poems, has indicated the obligation under which,
in the matter of phrase, he lay to Chapman, not the best model of
a perspicuous style. But, on the whole, his style was consistently
direct and intelligible; it is even, at times, colloquial. Every one
of Ovid's heroes, gods, or monsters assumes, with Sandys, a
tendency to 'skip' or 'caper'; while
Furious Medea, with her haire unbound,
About the flagrant Altar trots a Round 8.
However, his directness does not lead to baldness of language, or
to avoidance of a sounding word or phrase where it will serve its
turn. Similarly, his versification is guided by its opportunities
rather than by fixed prejudices in favour of certain rules.
A number of couplets, each complete in itself, may quite easily
be followed by a series of overlapping couplets. In either case,
each couplet will be solid and weighty in texture and content:
Sandys was not afraid of double consonants or strong monosyllabic
1
2
3
11, 235 ff. (Ovid, n, 216 ff. ).
11, 835 ft. (11, 760 ff. ).
xv, 69 ff. (xv, 60 ff. ).
1 VIII, 722 ff. (VIII, 639 ff. ).
6
III, 223 ff. (III, 206 ff. ).
vii, 573 ff. (v11, 523 ff. ).
XV, 237 ff. (xv, 199 ff. ).
VII, 281, 282 (VII, 257, 258).
8
3
4-2
## p. 52 (#68) ##############################################
52
Writers of the Couplet
6
rimes. He frequently allowed himself, and always with good
effect, to rime two weak endings. In this freedom and variety
of use, Drayton was his master; and it is impossible to say that
Sandys did more than continue Drayton's form of couplet versi-
fication with great skill and success, and on a larger scale than his
master had employed.
Sandys returned from Virginia about 1626, when the first
complete edition of his Ovid was published. He was appointed a
gentleman of the privy chamber to Charles I, and was able to
spend the remainder of his life in long intervals of leisure, living
at the country houses of his relations and consorting with the poets
and wits whom Falkland attracted round him. To a new edition
of his Ovid, published at Oxford in 1632, Sandys gave
what perfection [his) Pen could bestow; by polishing, altering, or restoring,
the harsh, improper, or mistaken, with a nicer exactnesse than perhaps is
required in so long a labour.
He added to this edition a translation in couplets of the first book
of the Aeneid. His mind, however, as he confessed, was 'diverted
from these studies'; and he forsook 'Peneian groves and Cirrha's
caves' for Holy Scripture. His Paraphrase upon the Psalms of
David was published in 1636. Early in 1638, it appeared in a folio
a
edition, with tunes by Henry Lawes, and in company with para-
phrases of Job, Ecclesiastes, the Lamentations of Jeremiah and
the various songs of the Old and New Testament. The decasyllabic
couplet was employed in the versions of Job, Ecclesiastes and
Lamentations, in nineteen of the Psalms and in two of the mis-
cellaneous songs. Twenty-eight psalms, and three of the miscel-
laneous songs, are written in octosyllabic couplets. Thirty-six
psalms are arrangements of octosyllabic lines, with various rimes,
in stanza form. Among these should be noticed five examples of
the stanza familiar to us as that of Tennyson's In Memoriam.
Sixteen psalms are composed of trochaic heptasyllabic couplets,
and five of couplets of lines of six syllables. The remaining psalms
consist, with nine exceptions, of stanzas in which lines of eight are
mingled with lines of six or four syllables, or both. In seven of the
exceptions, the stanza is formed by a quatrain of six-syllabled lines
with alternate rimes, followed by a quatrain of four-syllabled lines,
the rimes in which are formed by the two extreme and two middle
lines respectively. The two remaining exceptions are composed of
a series of quatrains of decasyllabic lines. The paraphrase of The
Song of Solomon, published in 1641, is in octosyllabic couplets; the
tragedy entitled Christ's Passion, an imitation of Grotius's tragedy
1
.
## p. 53 (#69) ##############################################
Edmund Waller
53
on the same theme, is in decasyllabic couplets, with occasional
incursions into the eight-syllabled measure. In these later works,
Sandys's versification, if it does not achieve perfect smoothness, is re-
markably regular. The habitual parallelism of sense in single verses
of Hebrew poetry supplied natural bounds to the couplet; and only
here and there, as in the seventy-eighth psalm, does Sandys show a
tendency to run his couplets into one another. He also has aban-
doned his earlier habit of riming weak endings; and, as a general
rule, his rimes are less emphatic and consonantal than in his
Ovid.
The entry of Sandys's burial (7 March 1643/4), in the parish
register of Boxley, describes him as poetarum Anglorum sui
saeculi facile princeps; and Dryden's opinion of the ingenious
and learned Sandys' as 'the best versifier of the former age",
gives a certain colour, with a necessary qualification, to the
perhaps prejudiced encomium of the Kentish vicar. There cannot
be any question that, to the younger generation, Sandys's verse
represented a praiseworthy contrast to the straggling licence of
the couplet-writers of his day. But, to them, the new age began,
not with Sandys, but with Waller; and Waller claimed his own
poetical descent from another source. Edmund Waller was born
at Coleshill, near Amersham, on 3 March 1605/6. His earliest
known attempt in verse appears to be the poem Of the Danger His
Majesty [Being Prince] Escaped in the Road at St Andere. The
danger in question was incurred by prince Charles at Santander
in September 1623, as he was returning from his attempt to secure
a Spanish bride ; but the compliment which the poem contains to
Henrietta Maria is so essential to it, that it was probably written
retrospectively after the betrothal of Charles to the French
princess. In this early essay, Waller certainly did not attain the
complete mastery of the self-contained couplet. In one place,
four couplets occur together, each of which needs its neighbour to
complete its sense? In another, seven couplets run on in close
connection, before an appreciable pause is reached; and, even
then, an eighth is needed to bring the included comparison to an
effective close
The quantity of Waller's published verse is small in comparison
with its fame. He went from a school at High Wycombe to
Eton, and from Eton he entered King's college, Cambridge, as
a fellow commoner, in March 1619/20. His parliamentary career
seems to have begun about a year later, when, probably, he was
i Pref. to Fables (1700).
* LI. 61-68.
* LI. 89-104.
## p. 54 (#70) ##############################################
54
Writers of the Couplet
returned as member for Amersham. He sat for Ilchester in the
last parliament of James I, for Chipping Wycombe in the first
parliament of Charles I, for Amersham in the third parliament of
Charles I and the Short parliament and for St Ives in the Long
parliament. He was a prominent and famous speaker in the house
of Commons: when the troubles first broke out, he was on the
side of the popular leaders, and took part in the opposition to
ship-money. But, by 1642, he was gradually drawn closer to
the party of the via media ; and his parliamentary career was
closed, for the time, in 1643, by the discovery of his complicity in
the royalist conspiracy which became known as Waller’s plot.
He was arrested, and, after a trying interval, in which he cer-
tainly attempted to save himself by compromising others, was
fined and banished. He spent his exile in France, associating
with Hobbes and Evelyn. Pardoned at the end of 1651, he re-
turned to England. Cromwell appointed him a commissioner of
trade in 1655; and, after the restoration, he once more entered
parliament as member for Hastings. He sat for this con-
stituency till his death in 1687, playing the part of Nestor of
the house with no little self-consciousness, and using his voice
on behalf of that constitutional liberalism which embodied his
convictions.
During this long period, he wrote but little. He married twice,
and was already a widower when he first met lady Dorothy Sidney,
daughter of Robert, earl of Leicester. The lady became the
theme of several addresses celebrating her beauty and her
cruelty with charming ease and with no more than conventional
warmth. In lines written at Penshurst, amid the accompani-
ments of listening deer, beeches bowing their heads and gods
weeping rain in sympathy with the poet, the love of Astrophel
for Stella is invoked to rebuke a colder scion of the house
of Sidney. As all nature is compassionate to the sighing swain,
80 is it obsequious to the obdurate nymph. Her presence
harmonises and gives order to the park: the trees form a shady
arbour for her when she sits, an avenue when she walks. When
she comes to London, the delights of the spring are there of set
purpose to welcome her. Waller's enthusiasm goes so far as to
turn verses nominally addressed to others into compliments to
lady Dorothy. Her friend, lady Rich, dies: Waller's elegy is con-
verted into the celebration of the friendship of its subject for
Sacharissa. Her father goes abroad: the trees of Penshurst
lament his absence, and its deer, grudging to be slain by any
## p. 55 (#71) ##############################################
Waller's Sacharissa
55
hand but his, repine. Not these, nor the regrets of his friends,
demand his return so much as the havoc which his daughter is
working in the hearts of English youth. It is her portrait which
is the occasion of an address to Van Dyck; and the stanzas
To a Very Young Lady would not have been written had there
not been an elder sister to give them their real point. Such
indirect approaches may argue a more sincere passion than we
are at liberty to discover in the lines Of the Misreport of her
being Painted, and their companions. But, whether Waller was
in love with Sacharissa, or whether she was merely a theme for
poetical flattery, her influence over his heart or his verse, or both,
was transient. His professed fidelity to Sacharissa did not hinder
him from joining the train of poets who celebrated the attractions
of Lucy, countess of Carlisle.
which are generally felicitous, a free use of alliteration and
an ecstatic emphasis are already characteristic of his style.
The eighteenth century, peculiarly disqualified from appreciating
Crashaw's religious enthusiasm, retained an interest for Sospetto,
mainly because of its connection with Milton. Pride of place
was given in The Delights of the Muses to a translation of a
Jesuit schoolmaster's rhetorical exercise, on which Ford also
employed his skill in The Lovers Melancholy. The nightingale's
song has never had such lavish delineation as in Musicks duell;
but the poem is too ingenious and sophisticated to give the
atmosphere of the country. There is far more charm in the dainty
song from the Italian, To thy Lover, Deere, discover, and in Come
and let us live my Deare, from Catullus. Translations of Latin
hymns occupy a large space, especially in his last volume. They
have great merit, but seldom the particular merit of the originals.
Thus, his Dies Irae has many beauties and fine touches, but it
fails to represent the masculine strength of the Latin. Even
Vexilla Regis cannot escape his favourite phrase, a 'full nest
of loves. ' His warm, sensuous imagination kindles with his
subject, and he passes only too easily into 'a sweet inebriated
ecstasy. '
Crashaw did better work when he relied upon himself, as in
Loves Horoscope and Wishes. To his (supposed) Mistresse. It is
only this last-named example which makes one's faith waver in
Crashaw's own judgment that his secular was inferior to his sacred
The airy metre of Wishes, with its lengthening lines, is
exactly fitted to its graceful humour. But, delicate as this poem is,
it cannot sustain a comparison with his Hymne to St Teresa. The
one is intense with passion, the other is playful and superficial.
"The very outgoings of the soule’are in the divine poems; there is
grace and dainty trifling, but no more, in the love poems. Nowhere
in the secular poems do we find the elan, the surrender to an
inspiration, the uprush of feeling which carries all before it.
Crashaw's passionate outbursts, with their flaming brilliancy, and
their quick-moving lines, are hard to parallel in the language, and
verse,
6
## p. 37 (#53) ##############################################
Crashaw's Qualities
37
it is his ardent religious emotion which sets them on fire. He may
borrow too freely, for some tastes, from the language of amorous
poetry; but it was natural to him to call St Teresa ‘my rosy love'
or the Virgin a 'rosy princess,' and he serves them with a noble
chivalrous devotion.
There are as serious faults in his sacred, as in his secular, poems.
Indeed, the faults are more apparent, because they occur in a
finer setting. Crashaw's failures are peculiarly exasperating,
because they spoil work which had greater potentialities than
that of many poets who have maintained a better level. There
are inspired moments, when he outdistances all his rivals, as in
the lines which he added to his first version of The Flaming
Heart, or in the fuller version of the poem To the Countess of
Denbigh Vaughan may disappoint by long stretches of flatness,
but Crashaw more often gives positive offence by an outrageous
conceit, by gaudy colour, by cloying sweetness or by straining
of an idea which has been squeezed dry. His defective powers
of self-criticism make Crashaw the most unequal of our poets.
The Weeper contains some of his best and some of his worst
lines That he had no sureness of touch in reviewing his own
work, becomes clear when it is noticed that many of the verses
in The Weeper which have alienated his readers were either
additions to the original version, or disastrously misplaced. In
the revised form, a verse which few can read without distaste
is followed by these perfect lines :
Not in the evening's eyes
When they red with weeping are
For the Sun that dyes,
Sitts sorrow with a face so fair;
No where but here did over meet
Sweetnesse so sad, sadnesse so sweet.
Within a few months of Crashaw's death, the first part of Silex
Scintillans had appeared (1650). Henry Vaughan, the elder of
twins, was born on 17 April 1621, at Newton St Bridget on the
Usk, in the parish of Llansantffread near Brecon. His chosen name,
Silurist, expresses his intimate love of the Welsh mountains and
valleys, with their rocks and streams, woodlands and solitary
places, among which he spent his childhood and all the years of
his professional life. Both he and his twin brother Thomas ex-
press their debt to Matthew Herbert, rector of Llangattock,
who schooled them for six years, before they went up to Jesus
.
I see
care
## p. 38 (#54) ##############################################
38
The Sacred Poets
college, Oxford, in 1638? He acquired sufficient Latinity to find
his chief reading, outside his professional studies and contemporary
poetry, in the fathers of the church. He left Oxford for London,
with the idea of studying for the law, but, at some date unknown,
abandoned it for medicine. The only record of these London
days is in the slight little volume of Poems, with the tenth Satyre
of Juvenal Englished, which he printed in 1646. Except for some
feeling for nature, there is nothing that anticipates the distinctive
quality of Silex Scintillans. The love-songs to Amoret, in which
he reveals his kinship with Jonson, Donne and Habington, are
not original enough to suggest that he would ever have risen
above what half a dozen of the court poets were doing at least
as well. More interesting is the literary flavour which he tries
to give to the book, in the opening poem, with its homage to
'Great Ben' and Randolph, and in the Rhapsodis on the Globe
tavern. He would have his readers believe that he is of the
school of Ben, and seeks inspiration in churchwarden pipes and
'royal witty sack, the poet's soul. ' It may be nothing more than
a youthful pose, with its suggestion of duns and debts, full cups
and the disorderly Strand, but their author took it seriously
when, in his preface of 1654, he 'most humbly and earnestly'
begged that none would read his early poems.
Before the end of the next year (1647), Vaughan, apparently,
had settled down to the life of the country, and wrote from
'Newton by Usk'a dedication to Olor Iscanus. The book, however,
did not appear till 1651, and, even then, only under another's
auspices, the author having ‘long ago condemned these poems to
obscurity. The reason for this postponement is the crisis in
Vaughan’s life, which will be more fitly described in connection
with the issue of Silex. The poem which gave its name to Olor
Iscanus sings the praise of the Usk. It has reminiscences of
Browne's Pastorals. Denham’s Cooper's Hill had already appeared,
but its most famous lines on the Thames were not inserted till
after Vaughan's lines were written. The most remarkable, if,
also, the strangest, poem in the collection is the Donne-like
Charnel House. Its forcible epithets—shoreless thoughts, vast
tenter'd hope'-and its array of odd words and similes compel
attention in spite of its morbid cast of thought. There are not
1 Doubt has sometimes been thrown on Anthony & Wood's statement that Henry
spent two years or more in logicals under a noted tutor' at Oxford; but it is confirmed
by Vaughan's letter to Aubrey (Wood's constant source of information), in which he says
that he stayed not at Oxford to take any degree. ' Aubrey's Brief Lives, vol. II, p. 269.
## p. 39 (#55) ##############################################
Vaughan's Secular Poems
39
6
any love poems, but many memorials of friendship, which had
ever a large place in Vaughan's thoughts. The bulk of the work
clearly belongs to the period before Silex was written, and re-
flects the atmosphere of the 1646 volume, with its allusions to
debts and gay living, and its complimentary verses upon secular
writers, D'Avenant, John Fletcher, 'the ever-memorable Mr
William Cartwright' and 'the matchless Orinda. ' The poems
about his friends who took part in the civil war suggest, but do
not clearly settle, the question whether the poet himself took any
active part. There are passages where he takes satisfaction in
the thought that his hands are clean of 'innocent blood. ' On
the other hand, he alludes to a time when this juggling fate of
soldiery first seiz'd me,' and also seems to write as an eyewitness
of the battle of Rowton heath? There are more signs of his hatred
of existing authority than of any active enthusiasm for the royal
cause, except that the poem to Thomas Powell, his ‘loyal fellow-
prisoner,' and a prayer in adversity, in The Mount of Olives, seem
to imply that, then or later, he suffered in property and person.
The poem that affords the greatest chronological difficulty is
called "To his retired friend, an Invitation to Brecknock. ' The
words, ‘since Charles, his reign,' seem to demand a date after the
king's execution, but it is difficult to reconcile its flippant, reckless
tone with the consistently serious temper of Silex, which was
published in 1650. Perhaps the poet counted Charles's reign as
over with the crushing defeat of 1645, and so the poem may be
contemporary with others of its kind and not with the poems of
Silex. One of the few poems which are certainly late, the epitaph.
on the little lady Elizabeth, who died of grief at Carisbrooke in
September 1650, is a worthy companion of Vaughan's best work.
The turning point in Vaughan's spiritual and literary history
occurs somewhere in the period preceding the publication of the
first part of Silex Scintillans (1650). There are many indications
in this volume, and in the preface which he wrote in 1654 for the
second part (1655), that he underwent a prolonged and painful
sickness, which nearly cost him his life. Even in 1654, he believes
himself to be 'at no great distance from death,' though he hopes
that he is spared to make amends for a misspent youth. In
language that appears excessive, at any rate in view of any.
thing that he published, he deplores his share in the 'foul and
overflowing stream' of corrupting literature, and ascribes his
1 The tempting solution, that he was present as a surgeon, must be set aside,
because his medical studies were probably not begun till later.
## p. 40 (#56) ##############################################
40
The Sacred Poets
change of view to the blessed man, Mr George Herbert, whose holy
life and verse gained many pious converts, of whom I am the least. '
The nature of Vaughan's obligations to Herbert has been the
subject of much controversy. The first and greatest debt is that
Herbert directed Vaughan's genius into the channel where only
it achieved notable and lasting success. Vaughan found himself
in Silea Scintillans; even the few successes outside that volume,
like The Eagle and the Epitaph on the lady Elizabeth, were
written after his conversion. What readers have cared to re-
member are not his poems to Amoret and Etesia, or the occasional
verse to friends and literary idols, with its jaunty tone and
petulant impatience of the time's ridiculous misery,' but the
remote, timeless, mysterious poems of Silex Scintillans. It is
credit enough to the older poet to have given his disciple
spiritual quickening and the gift of gracious feeling. But the
influence of Herbert, for better and for worse, is literary as well
as spiritual. Recent editors of Vaughan, by their extensive
collections of parallel passages, have placed it beyond dispute
that the younger writer, in his new-born enthusiasm for "holy
Herbert,' modelled himself on the author of The Temple. Many
of his poems are little more than resettings of Herbert's thought
and very words ; even the best poems, where Vaughan is most
original, have verbal reminiscences, which show how he soaked
himself in Herbert's poems. Sometimes, familiar words have
received a subtle transmutation ; sometimes, they have only
enslaved Vaughan to his disadvantage. The little tricks of
Herbert's style—the abrupt openings, the questions and ejacu-
lations, the homely words and conceits, the whimsical titles
are employed by Vaughan as his very framework. In the matter
of form, Vaughan failed to learn what Herbert had to teach.
He knows less well than Herbert when to stop, and, after
beginning with lines of such intensity as Herbert could never
have written, he is apt to lose his way and forfeit the interest
of his readers.
The real contributions of Vaughan to literature are, naturally,
those poems where he is most himself and calls no man master.
His mind and temper are essentially distinct from Herbert's.
After the change in his life, he becomes detached in mind from
the ordinary interests and ideas of his times, with which he was
in any case out of sympathy, and, as with a true mystic, his
thoughts move in a rarer, remoter air. He may dutifully follow
Herbert in celebrating the festivals of the church ; but such
## p. 41 (#57) ##############################################
Vaughan's Sacred Poems
41
concrete themes do not suit him like the more mysterious and
abstract themes of eternity, communion with the dead, nature and
childhood. The death of a younger brother occasioned a sequence
of poems in which the note of personal loss, poignant though it is,
is not more prominent than a wistful brooding over man's re-
lations with the unseen and the eternal. This theme receives
yet finer treatment in two of his best-known poems, The World
and They are all gone into the world of light. The Retreat
combines this theme with another, the innocence of childhood,
which recurs in Corruption and Childhood. In The Retreat,
which has the added interest of being the germ of Words-
worth's ode', Intimations of Immortality, Vaughan achieves a
simplicity of expression which is rare with him. Some of his
most perfect work occurs where both thought and expression
are simple, as in Peace, The Burial of an Infant, or Christ's
Nativity. More often his gift of expression is not sustained, and
the magic of the opening lines, e. g.
I saw Eternity the other night,
Like a great Ring of pure and endless light,
soon deserts him. His workmanship becomes defective, his
rhythms halting and his expression crabbed.
Another link with Wordsworth is Vaughan's intimate and
religious feeling for nature, He has an open-air love for all
natural sights and sounds, and a subtle sympathy even with the
fallen timber or the stones at his feet. He is happier away from
the world of men, and can rejoice equally in
Dear Night! this world's defeat, the stop to busy fools,
and in the stir that heralds the dawn. It is in his observation of
nature that he achieves his most felicitous epithets—the unthrift
sun,' 'the pursy clouds' and 'purling corn. ' The setting of
these natural descriptions is usually religious, as in The Rainbow
or The Dawning ; but the lover of nature is as apparent as the
mystical thinker.
Into the space of half a dozen years, Vaughan crowded all
his best work. His prose translations and original books of
devotion belong to the same period. The Mount of Olives reveals
the occasions of many of his poems, and shows that he has been
wrongly described as a pantheist. The silence of the forty years
that he had yet to live is broken only by Thalia Rediviva (1678).
Trench elicited the interesting fact that Wordsworth owned & copy of Silex
Scintillans, at that time a rare book. Household Book of English Poetry, 2nd ed.
.
## p. 42 (#58) ##############################################
42
The Sacred Poets
For this volume, as for Olor Iscanus, the author did not make
himself responsible. Most of its contents clearly belong to
earlier days. A few poems only appear to have been written
after the restoration; for example, The True Christmas, which
;
shows Vaughan to be as little in sympathy with the laxity of the
monarchy as with the tyranny of the commonwealth. There is
an echo of his former successes in The Retirement and other
numbers of the section, which is called Pious Thoughts and
Ejaculations. The volume is also interesting because it contains
the verse-remains of his brother, 'Eugenius Philalethes,' who
died in 1666. Of Henry Vaughan, there is no further record,
except some casual allusions in the correspondence of his cousin,
John Aubrey, till the record of his tombstone in Llansantffread
churchyard, commemorating his death on 23 April 1695, at the
age of 73! His retired life was in keeping with his small fame
as a writer. He knew that his writing was 'cross to fashion,' and
only one of his books reached a second edition ; with that exception,
nothing was reprinted for nearly two hundred years. He holds
his place now, not for the mass of his work, but for a few
unforgettable lines, and for a rare vein of thought, which re-
mained almost unworked again till Wordsworth’s nature poems
and Tennyson's In Memoriam.
6
The religious and mystical literature of the seventeenth century
has been recently enriched by Bertram Dobell's discovery of
Thomas Traherne, who is specially welcome for his fresh and
interesting outlook on life. Like Herbert and Vaughan, he
came from the Welsh borders, and had his full share of Celtic
fervour. The son of a Hereford shoemaker, he entered Brasenose
college, Oxford, in 1652, and graduated in arts and divinity. He
was admitted in 16577 to the rectory of Credenhill, near Hereford,
where he remained for about ten years, until, in 1667, he was
made chaplain to Sir Orlando Bridgman, on his appointment as
lord keeper, when the Cabal ministry took office. After seven
years in this service, Traherne died in his patron's house at
Teddington, near Hampton court, and was buried on 10 October
1674, ‘in the Church there, under the reading-desk. ' According
1 According to the tombstone: but he completed 74 years six days before his death,
? If Traherne was of canonical age at the time of his institution, this may,
perhaps, indicate the year of his birth as not later than 1634, though it has been usual
to give 1636 on the assumption that he was sixteen when he matriculated in 1652.
Crashaw went to Cambridge at the age of eighteen, and a poor student like Traberne.
may well bave found difficulty in going up earlier.
了
.
## p. 43 (#59) ##############################################
Thomas Traherne
43
to Anthony à Wood, he always led a simple and devout life ;
his will shows that he possessed little beyond his books, and
thought it worth while to bequeath his 'old hat. '
In his lifetime, he published only Roman Forgeries (1673),
which might be left to slumber, except for its preface, showing
his scholarly love of the Bodleian library, 'which is the glory of
Oxford, and this nation. ' Just before his death, he sent to the
press Christian Ethics (1675), and, a quarter of a century later, the
non-juring divine, George Hickes, printed anonymously, with a
friend's account of the nameless author, A serious and patheticall
Contemplation of the Mercies of God. This latter work contained
thanksgivings for all the common blessings of life, arranged
rhythmically, much in the manner of bishop Andrewes's Devotions.
The rest of Traherne's works remained in manuscript till the
Poems were printed in 1903, and Centuries of Meditations in
1908. Another octavo volume of meditations and devotions is
still extant in manuscript.
All these works, except the controversial volume, reveal an
original mind, dominated by certain characteristic thoughts, which
are commended to the reader by a glowing rhetoric and a fine
conviction of their sufficiency. Like Vaughan, Traherne retains
an idyllic remembrance of the innocence and spiritual insight of
childhood, and insists that he ‘must become a child again. ' The
child knew nothing of 'churlish proprieties,' and rightly regarded
himself as 'heir of the whole world':
Long time before
I in my mother's womb was born,
A God preparing did this glorious store
The world for me adorn.
Into His Eden so divine and fair,
So wide and bright, I come His son and heir.
Only with much ado' was the child taught by his elders to prize
gew-gaws above the common things of earth and sky; it was a
difficult matter to persuade me that the tinseled ware upon a
hobby-horse was a fine thing. But the lesson was successfully
taught, and now, for the man who would recover felicity, there
was no remedy left but to get free of 'the burden and cumber
of devised wants,' and to recognise again the true wealth of
earth's commonest gifts. Man could do God Himself no greater
homage than to delight in His creation:
Our blessedness to see
ls eren to the Deity
A Beatific Vision! He attains
His Ends while we enjoy. In us He reigns.
>
## p. 44 (#60) ##############################################
44
The Sacred Poets
It is a fortunate circumstance that Traherne has given parallel
expression to his leading ideas both in verse and in prose, as it
affords an opportunity of estimating which medium was the better
at his command. His mind was poetic and imaginative rather
than philosophic and logical, and yet it may be urged, with some
confidence, that he achieved more unquestionable success with his
prose than with his verse. Even the opening poems on the
thoughts of childhood, beautiful as they are, have nothing so
striking as the corresponding prose passage, which begins : The
corn was orient and immortal wheat, which never should be
reaped, nor was ever sown. I thought it had stood from ever-
lasting to everlasting. Again, the poems on Thoughts, as being
every man’s ‘substantial treasures,' are less flowing and musical
than such lines as these :
I can visit Noah in his ark, and swim upon the waters of the deluge. I can
see Moses with his rod, and the children of Israel passing through the sea. . . .
I can visit Solomon in his glory, and go into his temple, and view the sitting
of his servants, and admire the magnificence and glory of his kingdom. No
ereature but one like unto the Holy Angels can see into all ages. . . . It is not
by going with the feet, but by journeys of the Soul, that we travel thither.
Such writing as this has some of the magical quality and personal
note of Sir Thomas Browne's Religio Medici.
As a poet, Traherne has not mastered his technique. His
poems are often diffuse and full of repetitions. He is obsessed
with the rime, 'treasures' and 'pleasures,' using it on page after
page; and, even for an age that was not careful of such things,
the proportion of defective rimes is high. The categorical habit,
also, has had disastrous effects, in unbroken strings of fifteen
nouns in one poem, thirteen adjectives in another, fourteen par-
ticiples in a third. In other poems, the didactic purpose gets the
upper hand, and we hear the preacher's voice: This, my dear
friends, this was my blessed case. ' In spite of such poems as
Wonder, News, Silence and The Ways of Wisdom, he wrote
nothing in verse that is so arresting as his rhetorical prose:
You never enjoy the world aright, till the Sea itself floweth in your veins,
till you are clothed with the heavens, and crowned with the stars: and per-
ceive yourself to be the sole heir of the whole world, and more than so, because
men are in it who are every one sole heirs as well as you.
The success of Herbert's Temple inevitably produced a crop
of imitations, ranging from Christopher Harvey's Synagogue,
which, by being bound up with The Temple in many editions
from 1640 onwards, achieved a reputation beyond its deserts,
1
1
1
## p. 45 (#61) ##############################################
William Habington
45
down to the doggerel and wholesale plagiarism of Samuel
Speed's Prison Pietie (1677). Vaughan rightly complained of
these facile imitators that they cared more for verse than
perfection. ' Those of Herbert's contemporaries who attempted
sacred verse without falling under his influence deserve more
consideration. To right and to left of Herbert stand William
Habington and Francis Quarles. Both belong by birth to the
country gentry; but the former found readers only among his
own class, while the latter was more successful than any writer of
his time in gauging the protestant religious feeling of English-
men at large. Habington's associations from birth onwards were
with the Roman Catholic minority. He was born at Hindlip hall
near Worcester, a house famous for its concealment of priests,
on the very day on which the Gunpowder plot was discovered
in consequence (so tradition has said) of his mother's letter to
lord Monteagle. His father was an antiquary, whose History of
Edward IV the son completed and published in 1640. William
Habington, after being educated at St Omer and Paris with a
view to his becoming a priest, returned to England and, probably
in the early months of 1633, married Lucy Herbert, youngest
daughter of the first baron Powis. Her praises he celebrated
in Castara, which he published anonymously in 1634. The two
parts of which it then consisted contain poems of courtship and
of marriage. A new edition of Castara, a year later, revealed the
author's name, and added to the second part a set of eight elegies
on his friend, George Talbot, which would more properly have
constituted a third part, and three characters of a mistress, a
wife and a friend, introducing the three sections. In 1640, a
third edition included an entirely new third part, consisting of
a character of 'A Holy Man,' and a collection of sacred poems.
The author recognises that he may be thought ‘a Precisian' for
his unfashionable praise of chastity, but he would not win even
'the spreadingst laurell’by writing wanton or profane. ' In the
third part, he leaves the theme of earthly love to the soft silken
youths at Court,' and is full of self-accusation that he should
ever have handled the theme, however purely. There is a
sombre and monotonous strain running through this third part.
Advancing death, empty fame and decay of the tomb itself are its
constant subjects. Unlike Traherne, he hardly finds life worth
enjoying, with death awaiting him:
And should I farme the proudest state,
I'me Tennant to uncertaine fate.
There is grim humour in the description of his deathbed, where
## p. 46 (#62) ##############################################
46
The Sacred Poets
6
he seems to be a mourner at his own obsequies. He can put
no trust in the predictions of astrologer or doctor :
They onely practise how to make
A mistery of each mistake.
In most of the poems there are occasional fine lines, as in the
welcome to death as a safe retreat,
Where the leane slave, who th' Oare doth plye,
Soft as his Admirall may lye.
More sustained excellence is found in the poems Nox nocti
indicat Scientiam, Et exultavit Humiles and Cupio dissolvi.
But, in many of these meditative and frigid poems, the thought
is commonplace and uncommended by graceful expression, or
accent of sincerity. Defects of workmanship rather than of taste
mar his work; he judged himself rightly, when he admitted in
his preface that he needed to spend ‘more sweate and oyle,' if he
would aspire to the name of poet. Greater pains might have
eliminated his excessive use of the expletive 'do,' many weak
rime-endings, clumsy syntax and harsh elisions (e. g. 'th' An’chrits
prayer,' ''mid th' horrors,' 'sh' admires,' 'so 'bhors'). In the
same year as the complete Castara, appeared The Queene of
Arragon. A Tragi-Comedie.
The author died in 1654 and was
buried where my forefathers ashes sleepe. ' His own modest
estimate of his verses will not be challenged, that they are not
so high, as to be wondred at, nor so low as to be contemned. '
Quarles was as little affected as was Habington by the school of
Donne. His chief literary idol was Phineas Fletcher, 'the Spenser
of this age. He was born in 1592 at his father's manor house
.
of Stewards, near Romford in Essex. After studying at Cam-
bridge and Lincoln's inn, he went abroad, like his contemporary
Ferrar, in the train of the princess Elizabeth, on her marriage
with the elector palatine. After his return to England, he seems
to have lived partly in Essex, and partly in Ireland as secretary to
Ussher. In 1639, he became chronologer to the city of London. His
advocacy of the king's cause in a series of pamphlets led to his pro-
perty being sequestrated, his manuscripts burnt and his character
traduced in a petition to parliament. This last misfortune, ac-
cording to his widow, worried him into his grave (1644). His
literary career began in 1620 with A Feast for Wormes, a para-
phrase of the book of Jonah. He gauged popular taste accurately
in employing a facile, straightforward style, much familiar wisdom
and pious allegory, an abundance of metaphors and similes from
common life, but no difficult conceits of the fashionable kind.
Divine Fancies (1632) gave a better taste of his quality, and
6
## p. 47 (#63) ##############################################
Francis Quarles
47
anticipated, in The World's a Theater, some of the success which
attended Emblemes (1635), the most famous English example of
a class of writing which began with the Milanese doctor, Alciati,
a century earlier. Visible poetry. . . catching the eye and fancy
at one draught' had a fascination for most religious writers.
When Herbert moralised on the speckled church-floor, he was near
falling under this influence. Crashaw designed his own emblems
for his last volume; while Silex Scintillans took its name from the
frontispiece of a flinty heart struck with a thunderbolt, and began
with a poem, Authoris de se Emblema. It is fortunate that these
writers, who could do better things, escaped lightly from this
misleading fashion. It is as fortunate that Quarles found in it
the means of doing his best work. Most of the woodcut illus-
trations, and much of the moralising, he took straight from the
Jesuit Herman Hugo's Pia Desideria (1624). But Quarles had
something better to give than 'wit at the second hand. ' If his
ingenuity and his morality are commonly better than his poetry,
at times he rises above his mere task-work to original and forcible
writing, as in False World, thou ly'st, or in the picturesque
comparison of the weary soul with the haggard, cloister'd in
her mew. Sometimes, he reveals an unexpectedly musical quality,
as in the skilful use which he makes of the refrain, 'Sweet
Phosphor, bring the day, and his least attractive pages are
brightened by some daring epithet or felicitous turn of expression.
His liveliness and good sense, his free use of homely words and
notions and his rough humour are enough to account for, and to
justify, his popularity.
Of all these writers it may be said that their sacred themes did
not lead them to avoid the literary fashions of their day: they
and the secular poets trod the same paths. They enjoyed the
same delight in ingenuity, the same fearless use of hyberbole,
the same passion for finding likenesses and unlikenesses in all
manner of unrelated things; and they escaped the commoner
faults of religious poetry, its obviousness, its reliance upon stock
phrases, its tameness. Nor, with all their artificiality, is their
sincerity open to suspicion. They were sacred poets, not from
fashion or interest, but from choice and conviction. 'The very
outgoings of the soule' are to be found alike in Herbert's searching
of heart, in Crashaw's ecstasy and in Vaughan's mystical rapture.
## p. 48 (#64) ##############################################
CHAPTER III
WRITERS OF THE COUPLET
No dogma of Dryden and the critics who were his contem-
poraries is more familiar than that which gave Edmund Waller
the credit of bringing about a revolution in English verse. Dryden
wrote, in 1664 :
the excellence and dignity of it [i. e. rime) were never fully known till
Mr Waller taught it; he first made writing easily an art; first showed us to
conclude the sense, most commonly in distichs, which, in the verse of those
before him, runs on for so many lines together, that the reader is out of
breath to overtake it 1.
8
:
The author of the preface to the second part of Waller's poems
(1690) indulged in eulogy without qualification :
The reader needs be told no more in commendation of these Poems, than
that they are Mr Waller's; a name that carries everything in it that is either
great or graceful in poetry. He was, indeed, the parent of English verse, and
the first that showed us our tongue had beauty and numbers in it. . . . The
tongue came into his hands like a rough diamond: he polished it first, and to
that degree, that all artists since him have admired the workmanship, without
pretending to mend it.
These words represent the general conviction of an age in
which smoothness of rhythm and terseness of language were in-
dispensable conditions of poetry. The self-contained couplet
became the universal medium to which these tests were applied ;
and in Waller's couplets the age found the earliest form of verse
which answered them satisfactorily. Waller, during the last thirty
years of his life, must have been thoroughly familiar with the
reputation which he enjoyed as the improver of our numbers ;
but it would be difficult to discover any set purpose or novel
poetical theory underlying the form of the poems which made
him famous. The decasyllabic couplet had been employed very
generally, among other forms, by Elizabethan writers; and, in
1 Dedication of The Rival Ladies (Works, ed. Scott (Saintsbury's ed. ), vol. I,
p. 187). See, also, preface to Fables, 1700 (ibid. vol. II, pp. 209, 210).
## p. 49 (#65) ##############################################
Sir John Beaumont
49
Englands Heroicall Epistles, written before the end of the six-
teenth century, Drayton had given an example of couplet-writing
in which there is as little overlapping of the sense from couplet
to couplet as in any of Waller's most admired poems. But
the general tendency of those poets of the former age' who
used the couplet was to overstep the limits which Drayton
instinctively felt that it imposed. Its bounds were too narrow
for the richness of imagination which distinguished the followers
of Marlowe or of Spenser, and for the elaboration of thought
with which younger poets followed the example of Donne. Those
bounds were better suited to Jonson; but, although much of
his work in this form anticipates the practice of a later age,
his
abrupt vigour of language and his natural fluency were against
consistency in his handling of the couplet. In many cases, where
one couplet was allowed to pass into the next without any break
of sense or construction, and where this continued for many lines
together, the demands of melody prevented the poet from in-
dulging in weak rimes, or ending one couplet with a conjunction
or preposition which bound it to its successor ; but, among the
lesser poets of the Stewart epoch, such tricks became increasingly
common, until, in poems like Chamberlayne's Pharonnida,
sentences were carried on without a break through couplet after
couplet. The casual beauties of such passages are hidden by
a pedantic neglect of form, which amounts to a point of honour
with the writer. Sir John Beaumont, in a set of couplets addressed
to James I, lamented the prevailing formlessness of English poetry,
demanding, in place of ‘balting feet' and defective accents, ragged
rime,' 'fetter'd staves' and obscure language, a type of verse
the requirements of which are most nearly met by the closed
couplet.
The lines To His Late Majesty, concerning the True Forme of
English Poetry, not published till 1629, were, probably, written
soon after the publication of the works of James I in 1616. Sir
John Beaumont was a friend of Drayton, and may have had the
characteristics of Englands Heroicall Epistles before his mind
as he wrote. Drayton, also, was the friend, and, in no small
degree, the master, of George Sandys, who has some importance
in the history of the couplet. Sandys, born on 2 March 1577/8,
was the youngest son of Edwin Sandys, archbishop of York. He
entered St Mary hall, Oxford, in 1589; but nothing further is
known of him until, in 1610, he began his travels in the east, the
relation of which he published, with a dedication to the prince
4
E. L. VII.
CH. III.
## p. 50 (#66) ##############################################
50
Writers of the Couplet
of Wales, in 1615. In August 1621, he went to America, as
treasurer of the English company for the colony of Virginia, with
the governor of the colony, his brother-in-law, Sir Francis Wyatt.
There can be no doubt that, before he went, the first five books of
his translation of Ovid's Metamorphoses had appeared in print.
No copy of this publication has been traced ; and Sandys, in
his preface to the whole translation, published in 1626, implies
that the work was done during his residence in Virginia. How-
ever, there is an elegy by Drayton addressed to Sandys, which
was written very soon after Sandys's departure, and contains
historical allusions to events in the Thirty Years' war which shew
that it was composed in the winter of 1621–2. Drayton praises
the first five books of the Metamorphoses already translated,
and begs his correspondent to let's see what lines Virginia
will produce. ' Aided by such encouragement, Sandys persevered,
dedicating the day, as he tells Charles I, 'to the service of your
Great Father, and your Selfe,' and 'that unperfect light, which
was snatcht from the houres of night and repose' to the com-
pletion of his translation, and, probably, the polishing of its
earlier books.
The influence of the study of Ovid upon a more concise and
pointed type of couplet had been already a remarkable feature of
Drayton's poetry. Sandys endeavoured to translate as literally as
possible. In the end, his translation exceeded the original by
only some eleven hundred lines. He is sometimes excessively
literal. When auxiliary brasse resounds in vaine’ is an almost
too exact rendering of Cum frustra resonent aera auxiliaria'
'I see the better, I approve it too; The worse I follow' is faithful
to its original, without reproducing its real force? Wilful em-
broidery on the text is sometimes admitted, where a few additional
words give a picturesque or dramatic touch to the context. Thus,
in these lines from the tale of Pyramus and Thisbe,
M
与
!
6
1
When Pyramus, who came not forth so soone,
Perceived by the glimpses of the Moone
The footing of wild Beasts 3;
and, in this couplet from the tale of Salmacis and Hermaphro-
ditus,
Her sisters oft would say; Fie, Salmacis,
Fie lazie sister, what a sloth is this 4 !
1
2
IV, 372 (Ovid, iv, 333).
iv, 115, 116 (IV, 105, 106).
VII, 25, 26 (v11, 20, 21).
IV, 339 (iv, 305, 306).
3
## p. 51 (#67) ##############################################
George Sandys
51
6
the italicised words are not even implied by Ovid. More often,
probably, Sandys aimed at condensing the sense of the Latin in
his English, where an effect was possible. As a rule, however,
he renders Ovid's sense with extraordinary faithfulness, and in
verse which is strong and melodious. Nowhere are his ability
and ingenuity so apparent as in passages containing long lists of
names of persons or places. The relish which, as a traveller, he
must have found in Ovid's enumeration of the mountains and
rivers affected by Phaëthon's experiment with his father's horses
is clearly apparent? A love of outdoor sport, which elsewhere
suggests casual words and phrases, led him to find appropriate
English equivalents for the names which Ovid gives to Actaeon's
hounds? : his account of the tragedy gains strength thereby.
In almost every part of the poem we may find passages of
vigour and picturesqueness, sustained for many lines together.
Such are the descriptions of the cave of Envy8; of the plague*;
of Pythagoras and his vegetarian counsels"; and the comparison
of the ages of man to the seasons. In his rendering of the
good-natured story of Baucis and Philemon,' Sandys works with
that simplicity of language which the homely subject demands? .
He was not habitually superior to what he would have called
the 'ambages' of his contemporaries. Richard Hooper, the
editor of his poems, has indicated the obligation under which,
in the matter of phrase, he lay to Chapman, not the best model of
a perspicuous style. But, on the whole, his style was consistently
direct and intelligible; it is even, at times, colloquial. Every one
of Ovid's heroes, gods, or monsters assumes, with Sandys, a
tendency to 'skip' or 'caper'; while
Furious Medea, with her haire unbound,
About the flagrant Altar trots a Round 8.
However, his directness does not lead to baldness of language, or
to avoidance of a sounding word or phrase where it will serve its
turn. Similarly, his versification is guided by its opportunities
rather than by fixed prejudices in favour of certain rules.
A number of couplets, each complete in itself, may quite easily
be followed by a series of overlapping couplets. In either case,
each couplet will be solid and weighty in texture and content:
Sandys was not afraid of double consonants or strong monosyllabic
1
2
3
11, 235 ff. (Ovid, n, 216 ff. ).
11, 835 ft. (11, 760 ff. ).
xv, 69 ff. (xv, 60 ff. ).
1 VIII, 722 ff. (VIII, 639 ff. ).
6
III, 223 ff. (III, 206 ff. ).
vii, 573 ff. (v11, 523 ff. ).
XV, 237 ff. (xv, 199 ff. ).
VII, 281, 282 (VII, 257, 258).
8
3
4-2
## p. 52 (#68) ##############################################
52
Writers of the Couplet
6
rimes. He frequently allowed himself, and always with good
effect, to rime two weak endings. In this freedom and variety
of use, Drayton was his master; and it is impossible to say that
Sandys did more than continue Drayton's form of couplet versi-
fication with great skill and success, and on a larger scale than his
master had employed.
Sandys returned from Virginia about 1626, when the first
complete edition of his Ovid was published. He was appointed a
gentleman of the privy chamber to Charles I, and was able to
spend the remainder of his life in long intervals of leisure, living
at the country houses of his relations and consorting with the poets
and wits whom Falkland attracted round him. To a new edition
of his Ovid, published at Oxford in 1632, Sandys gave
what perfection [his) Pen could bestow; by polishing, altering, or restoring,
the harsh, improper, or mistaken, with a nicer exactnesse than perhaps is
required in so long a labour.
He added to this edition a translation in couplets of the first book
of the Aeneid. His mind, however, as he confessed, was 'diverted
from these studies'; and he forsook 'Peneian groves and Cirrha's
caves' for Holy Scripture. His Paraphrase upon the Psalms of
David was published in 1636. Early in 1638, it appeared in a folio
a
edition, with tunes by Henry Lawes, and in company with para-
phrases of Job, Ecclesiastes, the Lamentations of Jeremiah and
the various songs of the Old and New Testament. The decasyllabic
couplet was employed in the versions of Job, Ecclesiastes and
Lamentations, in nineteen of the Psalms and in two of the mis-
cellaneous songs. Twenty-eight psalms, and three of the miscel-
laneous songs, are written in octosyllabic couplets. Thirty-six
psalms are arrangements of octosyllabic lines, with various rimes,
in stanza form. Among these should be noticed five examples of
the stanza familiar to us as that of Tennyson's In Memoriam.
Sixteen psalms are composed of trochaic heptasyllabic couplets,
and five of couplets of lines of six syllables. The remaining psalms
consist, with nine exceptions, of stanzas in which lines of eight are
mingled with lines of six or four syllables, or both. In seven of the
exceptions, the stanza is formed by a quatrain of six-syllabled lines
with alternate rimes, followed by a quatrain of four-syllabled lines,
the rimes in which are formed by the two extreme and two middle
lines respectively. The two remaining exceptions are composed of
a series of quatrains of decasyllabic lines. The paraphrase of The
Song of Solomon, published in 1641, is in octosyllabic couplets; the
tragedy entitled Christ's Passion, an imitation of Grotius's tragedy
1
.
## p. 53 (#69) ##############################################
Edmund Waller
53
on the same theme, is in decasyllabic couplets, with occasional
incursions into the eight-syllabled measure. In these later works,
Sandys's versification, if it does not achieve perfect smoothness, is re-
markably regular. The habitual parallelism of sense in single verses
of Hebrew poetry supplied natural bounds to the couplet; and only
here and there, as in the seventy-eighth psalm, does Sandys show a
tendency to run his couplets into one another. He also has aban-
doned his earlier habit of riming weak endings; and, as a general
rule, his rimes are less emphatic and consonantal than in his
Ovid.
The entry of Sandys's burial (7 March 1643/4), in the parish
register of Boxley, describes him as poetarum Anglorum sui
saeculi facile princeps; and Dryden's opinion of the ingenious
and learned Sandys' as 'the best versifier of the former age",
gives a certain colour, with a necessary qualification, to the
perhaps prejudiced encomium of the Kentish vicar. There cannot
be any question that, to the younger generation, Sandys's verse
represented a praiseworthy contrast to the straggling licence of
the couplet-writers of his day. But, to them, the new age began,
not with Sandys, but with Waller; and Waller claimed his own
poetical descent from another source. Edmund Waller was born
at Coleshill, near Amersham, on 3 March 1605/6. His earliest
known attempt in verse appears to be the poem Of the Danger His
Majesty [Being Prince] Escaped in the Road at St Andere. The
danger in question was incurred by prince Charles at Santander
in September 1623, as he was returning from his attempt to secure
a Spanish bride ; but the compliment which the poem contains to
Henrietta Maria is so essential to it, that it was probably written
retrospectively after the betrothal of Charles to the French
princess. In this early essay, Waller certainly did not attain the
complete mastery of the self-contained couplet. In one place,
four couplets occur together, each of which needs its neighbour to
complete its sense? In another, seven couplets run on in close
connection, before an appreciable pause is reached; and, even
then, an eighth is needed to bring the included comparison to an
effective close
The quantity of Waller's published verse is small in comparison
with its fame. He went from a school at High Wycombe to
Eton, and from Eton he entered King's college, Cambridge, as
a fellow commoner, in March 1619/20. His parliamentary career
seems to have begun about a year later, when, probably, he was
i Pref. to Fables (1700).
* LI. 61-68.
* LI. 89-104.
## p. 54 (#70) ##############################################
54
Writers of the Couplet
returned as member for Amersham. He sat for Ilchester in the
last parliament of James I, for Chipping Wycombe in the first
parliament of Charles I, for Amersham in the third parliament of
Charles I and the Short parliament and for St Ives in the Long
parliament. He was a prominent and famous speaker in the house
of Commons: when the troubles first broke out, he was on the
side of the popular leaders, and took part in the opposition to
ship-money. But, by 1642, he was gradually drawn closer to
the party of the via media ; and his parliamentary career was
closed, for the time, in 1643, by the discovery of his complicity in
the royalist conspiracy which became known as Waller’s plot.
He was arrested, and, after a trying interval, in which he cer-
tainly attempted to save himself by compromising others, was
fined and banished. He spent his exile in France, associating
with Hobbes and Evelyn. Pardoned at the end of 1651, he re-
turned to England. Cromwell appointed him a commissioner of
trade in 1655; and, after the restoration, he once more entered
parliament as member for Hastings. He sat for this con-
stituency till his death in 1687, playing the part of Nestor of
the house with no little self-consciousness, and using his voice
on behalf of that constitutional liberalism which embodied his
convictions.
During this long period, he wrote but little. He married twice,
and was already a widower when he first met lady Dorothy Sidney,
daughter of Robert, earl of Leicester. The lady became the
theme of several addresses celebrating her beauty and her
cruelty with charming ease and with no more than conventional
warmth. In lines written at Penshurst, amid the accompani-
ments of listening deer, beeches bowing their heads and gods
weeping rain in sympathy with the poet, the love of Astrophel
for Stella is invoked to rebuke a colder scion of the house
of Sidney. As all nature is compassionate to the sighing swain,
80 is it obsequious to the obdurate nymph. Her presence
harmonises and gives order to the park: the trees form a shady
arbour for her when she sits, an avenue when she walks. When
she comes to London, the delights of the spring are there of set
purpose to welcome her. Waller's enthusiasm goes so far as to
turn verses nominally addressed to others into compliments to
lady Dorothy. Her friend, lady Rich, dies: Waller's elegy is con-
verted into the celebration of the friendship of its subject for
Sacharissa. Her father goes abroad: the trees of Penshurst
lament his absence, and its deer, grudging to be slain by any
## p. 55 (#71) ##############################################
Waller's Sacharissa
55
hand but his, repine. Not these, nor the regrets of his friends,
demand his return so much as the havoc which his daughter is
working in the hearts of English youth. It is her portrait which
is the occasion of an address to Van Dyck; and the stanzas
To a Very Young Lady would not have been written had there
not been an elder sister to give them their real point. Such
indirect approaches may argue a more sincere passion than we
are at liberty to discover in the lines Of the Misreport of her
being Painted, and their companions. But, whether Waller was
in love with Sacharissa, or whether she was merely a theme for
poetical flattery, her influence over his heart or his verse, or both,
was transient. His professed fidelity to Sacharissa did not hinder
him from joining the train of poets who celebrated the attractions
of Lucy, countess of Carlisle.
