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any age are privileged to visit, into which few in any age have courage or inclination to descend.' In the judgment of Southey, 'Daniel frequently writes below his subject and his strength; but always in a strain of tender feeling, and in language as easy and natural as it is pure. For his diction alone,' continues Southey, 'he would deserve to be studied by all students or lovers of poetry, even if his works did not abound with passages of singular beauty. Thoughtful, graceful, rightminded and gentle-hearted, there is no poet, in any language, of whom it may be inferred with more certainty from his writings that he was an amiable, wise, and good man.' Finally, Sir Egerton Brydges has discriminated his merits with great clearness and impartiality: The character of Daniel's genius,' he says, 'seems to be propriety rather than elevation. His language is generally pure and harmonious, and his reflections just; but his thoughts are too abstract, and appeal rather to the understanding than to the imagination or the heart; and he wanted the fire necessary to the loftier flights of poetry.' Having introduced you to the man and his writings generally, we will now consider his sonnets. These were first published in 1592, with the title 'Delia: Contayning Certayne Sonnets;' and again in 1594, under the title 'Delia and Rosamund Augmented;' and it has been suggested by Mr. Malone that they were the prototype of Shakespeare's sonnets, which opinion was espoused by Dr. Drake, the author of 'Shakespeare and His Times,' who further remarked that there is in Daniel much of that tissue of abstract thought, and that reiteration of words which so remarkably distinguish the sonnets of Shakespeare.' Few will deny that Daniel's sonnets are very beautiful. They are so full of grace and lightness that I shall venture to present a comparatively large instalment of them, in

Sonnets from Daniel's "Delia."

103

the confidence that they will afford you the unmixed pleasure they have given me. Here are four, which are fair specimens. of the entire collection:

"Look, Delia, how w'esteem the half-blown rose,

The image of thy blush and summer's honour;
Whilst yet her tender bud doth undisclose

That full of beauty Time bestows upon her.

No sooner spreads her glory in the air,

But straight her wide-blown pomp comes to decline:

She then is scorn'd that late adorn'd the fair;

So fade the roses of those cheeks of thine.

No April can revive thy wither'd flowers,

Whose springing grace adorns thy glory now;
Swift speedy Time, feather'd with flying hours,
Dissolves the beauty of the fairest brow:
Then do not thou such treasure waste in vain,
But love now whilst thou may'st be lov'd again.'

"I once may see when years shall wreak my wrong,
When golden hairs shall change to silver wire;
And those bright rays that kindle all this fire
Shall fail in force, their working not so strong.
Then Beauty (now the burthen of my song)

Whose glorious blaze the world doth so admire,
Must yield up all to tyrant Time's desire;

Then fade those flowers that deck'd her pride so long.
When, if she grieve to gaze her in her glass,
Which then presents her winter-wither'd hue,
Go you, my verse, go tell her what she was;
For, what she was she best shall find in you.
Your fiery heat lets not her glory pass,

But (Phoenix-like) shall make her live anew.'

"Beauty, sweet love, is like the morning dew,

Whose short refresh upon the tender green,

Cheers for a time, but till the sun doth show,
And straight 'tis gone as it had never been.
Soon doth it fade that makes the fairest flourish,
Short is the glory of the blushing rose;
The hue which thou so carefully dost nourish,

Yet which at length thou must be forc'd to lose,
When thou, surcharg'd with burthen of thy years,
Shalt bend thy wrinkles homeward to the earth,
And that in beauty's lease, expir'd, appears

The date of age, the calends of our death-
But ah! no more-this must not be foretold;
For, women grieve to think they must be old.'

"I must not grieve my love, whose eyes would read
Lines of delight whereon her youth might smile ;
Flowers have a time before they come to seed,

And she is young, and now must sport the while.
And sport, sweet maid, in season of these years,
And learn to gather flowers before they wither,
And where the sweetest blossom first appears,

Let Love and Youth conduct thy pleasures thither!
Lighten forth smiles to clear the clouded air,

And calm the tempest which my sighs do raise;

Pity and smiles do best become the fair,

Pity and smiles must only yield thee praise.
Make me to say, when all my griefs are gone,

Happy the heart that sigh'd for such a one!'

"The next of these worthies," continued the Professor, without giving me any opportunity for comment on Daniel's sonnets, “in the order of seniority, is Michael Drayton (1563– 1631), whom Ben Jonson rejoiced to call his friend, and of whom William Browne, the pastoral poet, said,

“Never happier pen

Sung of his loves, his country, and the men,'

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but whose best and most enduring title to our admiration is his enchanting poem, 'Nymphidia: The Court of Fairy.' I shall not undertake to outline Drayton's life, and will only say, in passing, that, because of the virtuous and honorable tenor of his actions, and the gentleness and geniality of his disposition, he was a more general favorite among contemporary men of letters than any other poet of that day; though another reason for this might be found in the facts that his genius was not so exalted as to excite envy or jealousy, while his learning and talents were so considerable as to command respect. He was an industrious and voluminous writer, and was conscientious in his efforts to do good honest work. His most pretentious production, and the one by which, after 'Nymphidia,' he is best known, is the 'Poly-Olbion,' consisting of thirty 'Songs,' comprising thirty thousand lines written in Alexandrine couplets, and which he himself termed 'A Chorographical Description of all the Tracts, Rivers, Mountains, Forests, and Other Parts of this Renowned Isle of Great Britain; with intermixture of the most Remarkable Stories, Antiquities, Wonders, etc., of the Same.' This remarkable work, which contains many fine descriptive passages, and has numerous lines of great beauty and sublimity, had the exceptional honor paid it of being annotated in part—that is to say, the first eighteen of its thirty Books or 'Songs'-by the learned antiquarian, John Selden; and has elicited from the pen of the candid and judicial Hallam the following discriminating criticism: 'It contains a topographical description of England, illustrated with a prodigality of historical and legendary erudition. Such a poem is essentially designed to instruct, and speaks to the understanding more than to the fancy. The powers displayed in it are, however, of a high cast. * * * The style of Drayton is sustained with ex

traordinary ability, on an equable line, from which he seldom much deviates, neither brilliant nor prosaic; few or no passages could be marked as impressive, but few are languid or mean. The language is clear, strong, various, and sufficiently figurative; the stories and fictions interspersed, as well as the general spirit and liveliness, relieve the heaviness incident to topographical description. There is probably no poem of this kind in any other language comparable, together in extent and excellence, to the Poly-Olbion; nor can any one read a portion of it without admiration for its learned and highly gifted author. Yet perhaps no English poem, known as well by name, is so little known beyond its name; for, while its immense length deters the common reader, it affords, as has just been hinted, no great harvest for selection, and would be judged very unfairly by partial extracts.' The only one of Drayton's works that comes properly within our scope, however, is his 'Idea: the Shepherd's Garland,' of which Ben Jonson said that he 'found it pure and perfect poesy.' This 'Garland' was a collection of pastorals in nine eclogues, interspersed with occasional sonnets, from which the two that follow have been selected as specimens of his widely differing styles-the first, describing a parting with love, being as remarkable for its preponderance of monosyllables as the other, "To the River Ankor,' is for the superabundance of its compound words and epithets:

'Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part;

Nay, I have done; you get no more of me:
And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart,
That thus so cleanly I myself can free;
Shake hands forever, cancel all our vows,
And when we meet at any time again,

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