The other carried on in the latter part of the Distick.
----Still add to what they hear,
And of a Mole-hill do a Mountain rear.
But his Travels were not only painful, but profitable, living piously,
and by that means having the blessing of God attending on his
endeavours, making a holy use of his viewing those sacred places which
he saw _Jerusalem_; Take an instance upon his sight of that place where
the three wise men of the _East_ offered their Oblations to our
Saviour.
Three Kings to th'King of Kings three gifts did bring,
Gold, Incense, Myrrh, as Man, as God, as King;
Three holy gifts be likewise given by thee
To _Christ_, even such as acceptable be;
For Myrhah, Tears; for Frankincense impart
Submissive Prayers; for pure Gold, a pure Heart.
He most elegantly translated _Ovid_ his _Metamorphosis_ into English
Verse, so that as the Soul of _Aristotle_ was said to have transfigured
into _Thomas Aquinas_, so might _Ovid_'s Genius be said to have passed
into Mr. _Sandys_, rendring it to the full heighth, line for line with
the Latin, together with most excellent Annotations upon each Fable.
But his Genius directed him most to divine subjects, writing a
Paraphrase on the Book of _Job_, _Psalms_, _Ecclesiastes_, _Canticles_,
&c. as also a divine Tragedy on _Christs Passion_. He lived to be a
very aged man, having a youthful Soul in a decayed Body, and died about
the year 1641.
* * * * *
Sir _JOHN SUCKLING_.
Sir _John Suckling_, in his time, the delight of the Court and darling
of the Muses, was one so filled with _Phoebean_ fire, as for excellency
of his wit, was worthy to be Crowned with a Wreath of Stars, though
some attribute the strength of his lines to favour more of the Grape
than the Lamp; Indeed he made it his Recreation, not his Study, and did
not so much seek fame as it was put upon him: In my mind he gives the
best Character of himself in those Verses of his in the _Sessions of
the Poets_:
_Suckling_ next was call'd, but did not appear,
But strait one whisper'd _Apollo_ i'th'ear,
That of all men living he cared not for't,
He lov'd not the Muses so well as his sport.
And prized black eyes, or a lucky hit
At Bowles, above all the Trophies of wit.
But _Apollo_ was angry, and publickly said,
Twere fit that a fine were set upon's head.
Besides his Poems, he wrote three Plays, the _Goblins_ a Comedy,
_Brenovalt_ a Tragedy, and _Aglaura_ a Tragi-Comedy. He was a loyal
person to his Prince, and in that great defection of Scotch Loyalty in
1639. freely gave the King a hundred Horses. And for his Poems, I shall
conclude with what the Author of his Epistle to the Reader saies of
them, _It had been a Prejudice to posterity, and an_ _injury to his own
Ashes, should they have slept in Oblivion._
* * * * *
Mr. _WILLIAM HABINGTON_.
He was one of a quick wit and fluent language, whose Poems coming forth
above thirty years ago, under the Title of _Castara_, gained a general
fame and estimation, and no wonder, since that human Goddess by him so
celebrated, was a person of such rare endowments as was worthy the
praises bestowed upon her, being a person of Honour as well as Beauty,
to which was joyned a vertuous mind, to make her in all respects
compleat. He also wrote the History of the Reign of King _Edward_ the
Fourth, and that in a style sufficiently florid, yet not altogether
pleasing the ear, but as much informing the mind, so that we may say of
that Kings Reign, as Mr. _Daniel_ saith in his Preface to his History
of _England, That there was never brought together more of the main_.
He also wrote a Tragi-Comedy, called, _the Queen of_ Arragon, which as
having never seen, I can give no great account of it.
* * * * *
Mr. _FRANCIS QUARLES_.
_Francis Quarles_, son to _James Quarles_, Esq; was born at _Stewards_
at the Parish of _Rumford_, in the County of _Essex_, and was bred up
in the University of _Cambridge_, where he became intimately acquainted
with Mr. _Edward Benlowes_, and Mr. _Phineas Fletcher_, that Divine
Poet and Philosopher, on whose most excellent Poem of the _Purple
Island_, hear these Verses of Mr. _Quarles_, which if they be as
delightful to you in the reading, as to me in the writing, I question
not but they will give you content.
Mans _Body's_ like a _House_, his greater _Bones_
Are the main _Timber_; and the lesser ones
Are smaller _splints_: his _ribs_ are _laths_ daub'd o're
Plaister'd with _flesh_ and _blood_: his _mouth's_ the door,
His _throat's_ the narrow _entry_, and his _heart_
Is the great _Chamber_, full of curious art:
His _midriff_ is a large _Partition-wall_
'Twixt the great _Chamber_, and the spacious _Hall_:
His _stomach_ is the _Kitchin_, where the meat
Is often but half sod for want of heat:
His _Spleen's_ a _vessel_ Nature does allot
To take the _skum_ that rises from the Pot:
His _lungs_ are like the _bellows_, that respire
In every _Office_, quickning every fire:
His _Nose_ the _Chimny_ is, whereby are vented
Such _fumes_ as with the _bellowes_ are augmented:
His _bowels_ are the _sink_, whose part's to drein
All noisom _filth_, and keep the _Kitchin_ clean:
His _eyes_ are Christal _windows_, clear and bright;
Let in the object and let out the sight.
And as the _Timber_ is or great, or small,
Or strong, or weak, 'tis apt to stand or fall:
Yet is the likeliest _Building_ sometimes known
To fall by obvious chances; overthrown
Oft times by _tempests_, by the full mouth'd _blasts_
Of _Heaven_; sometimes by _fire_; sometimes it wafts
Through unadvis'd _neglect_: put case the stuff
Were ruin-proof, by nature strong enough
To conquer time, and age; put case it should
Nere know an end, alas, our _Leases_ would;
What hast thou then, _proud flesh and blood_, to boast
Thy daies are evil, at best; but few, at most;
But sad, at merriest; and but weak, at strongest;
Unsure, at surest; and but short, at longest.
He afterwards went over into _Ireland_, where he became Secretary to
the Reverend _James Usher_, Arch-bishop of _Armagh_: one suitable to
his disposition, having a Genius byassed to Devotion; Here at leisure
times did he exercise himself in those ravishing delights of Poetry,
but (alwaies with the _Psalmist_) his _heart was inditing a good
matter_; these in time produced those excellent works of his, _viz._
his Histories of _Jonas_, _Esther_, _Job_, and _Sampson_; his _Sions
Songs_ and _Sions Elegies_, also his _Euchyridion_, all of them of such
a heavenly strain, as if he had drank of _Jordan_ instead of _Helicon_,
and slept on Mount _Olivet_ for his _Pernassus_. He had also other
excursions into the delightful walks of Poetry, namely, his _Argulus_
and _Parthenia_, a Science (as he himself saith) taken out of Sir
_Philip Sidney's_ Orchard, likewise his _Epigrams_, _Shepherds
Oracles_, Elegies on several persons, his _Hierogliphicks_, but
especially his _Emblems_, wherein he hath _Out-Alciated Alcialus_
himself. There hath been also acted a Comedy of his called, _The Virgin
Widdow_, which passed with no ordinary applause. But afterwards the
Rebellion breaking forth in _Ireland_ (where his losses were very
great) he was forced to come over; and being a true Loyalist to his
Soveraign, was again plundred of his Estate here, but what he took most
to heart (for as for his other losses he practiced the patience of
_Job_ he had described) was his being plundred of his Books, and some
rare Manuscripts which he intended for the Press, the loss of which, as
it is thought, facilitated his death, which happned about the year of
our Lord, 1643. to whose memory one dedicated these lines by way of
Epitaph.
To them that understand themselves so well,
As what, and who lies here, to ask, I'll tell,
What I conceive Envy dare not deny,
Far both from falshood, and from flattery.
Here drawn to Land by Death, doth lie
A Vessel fitter for the Skie,
Than _Jason's Argo_, though in _Greece_
They say, it brought the Golden Fleece.
The skilful Pilot steered it so,
Hither and thither, too and fro.
Through all the Seas of Poverty,
Whether they far or near do lie,
And fraught it so with all the wealth
Of wit and learning, not by stealth,
Or privacy, but perchance got
That this whole lower World could not
Richer Commodities, or more
Afford to add unto his store.
To Heaven then with an intent
Of new Discoveries, he went
And left his Vessel here to rest,
Till his return shall make it blest.
The Bill of Lading he that looks
To know, may find it in his Books.
* * * * *
Mr. _PHINEAS FLETCHER_.
This learned person, Son and Brother to two ingenious Poets, himself
the third, not second to either, was son to _Giles Fletcher_, Doctor in
Law, and Embassadour from Queen _Elizabeth_ to _Theodor Juanowick_ Duke
of _Muscovia_; who though a Tyranick Prince, whose will was his Law,
yet setled with him very good Terms for our Merchants trading thither.
He was also brother to two worthy Poets, _viz._ _George Fletcher_, the
Author of a Poem, entituled, _Christs Victory and Triumph over and
after Death_; and _Giles Fletcher_, who wrote a worthy Poem, entituled,
_Christs Victory_, made by him being but Batchelor of Arts, discovering
the piety of a Saint, and divinity of a Doctor. This our _Phineus
Fletcher_ was Fellow of _Kings Colledge_ in _Cambridge_, and in Poetick
fame exceeded his two Brothers, in that never enough to be celebrated
Poem, entituled, _The Purple Island_, of which to give my Reader a
taste (who perhaps hath never seen the Book) I shall here add two
Stanza's of it.
Thrice happy was the worlds first infancy,
Nor knowing yet, nor curious ill to know:
Joy without grief, love without jealousie:
None felt hard labour, or the sweating Plough:
The willing earth brought tribute to her King:
_Bacchus_ unborn lay hidden in the cling
Of big swollen Grapes; their drink was every silver spring.
And in another place, speaking of the vanity of ambitious Covetousness.
Vain men, too fondly wise, who plough the Seas,
With dangerous pains another earth to find:
Adding new Worlds to th'old, and scorning ease,
The earths vast limits daily more unbind!
The aged World, though now it falling shows,
And hasts to set, yet still in dying grows,
Whole lives are spent to win, what one Deaths hour must lose.
Besides this _Purple Island_, he wrote divers _Piscatorie Eclogues_,
and other _Poetical Miscelanies_, also a Piscatory Comedy called
_Sicelides_, which was acted at _Kings-Colledge_ in _Cambridge_.
* * * * *
Mr. _GEORGE HERBERT_.
This divine Poet and person was a younger brother of the Noble Family
of the _Herberts_ of _Montgomery_, whose florid wit, obliging humour in
conversation, fluent Elocution, and great proficiency in the Arts,
gained him that reputation at _Oxford_, where he spent his more
youthful Age, that he was chosen University Orator, a place which
required one of able parts to Mannage it; at last, taking upon him Holy
Orders, not without special Encouragement from the King, who took
notice of his extraordinary Parts, he was made Parson of _Bemmerton_
near _Salisbury_, where he led a Seraphick life, converting his Studies
altogether to serious and Divine Subjects; which in time produced those
his so generally known and approved Poems entituled, _The Temple_.
Whose Vocal notes tun'd to a heavenly Lyre,
Both learned and unlearned all admire.
I shall only add out of his Book an Anagram, which he made on the name
of the Virgin _Mary_.
M A R Y.
A R M Y.
And well her name an Army doth present,
In whom the Lord of Hosts did pitch his Tent.
* * * * *
Mr. _RICHARD CRASHAW_.
This devout Poet, the Darling of the _Muses_, whose delight was the
fruitful Mount _Sion_, more than the barren Mount _Pernassus_, was
Fellow first of _Pembrook-Hall_, after of St. _Peters-Colledge_ in
_Cambridge_; a religious pourer forth of his divine Raptures and
Meditations, in smooth and pathetick Verse. His Poems consist of three
parts, the first entituled, _Steps to the Temple_, being for the most
part Epigrams upon several passages of the New Testament, charming the
ear with a holy Rapture. The Second part, _The delights of the Muses_,
or Poems upon several occasions, both English and Latin; such rich
pregnant Fancies as shewed his Breast to be filled with _Phoebean_
Fire. The third and last part _Carmen Deo nostro_, being Hymns and
other sacred Poems, dedicated to the Countess of _Denbigh_, all which
bespeak him,
The learned Author of Immortal Strains.
He was much given to a religious Solitude, and love of a recluse Life,
which made him spend much of his time, and even lodge many Nights under
_Tertullian's_ roof of Angels, in St. _Mary's_ Church in _Cambridge_.
But turning _Roman Catholick_, he betook himself to, that so zealously
frequented place, _Our Lady's of Lorretto in Italy_; where for some
years he spent his time in Divine Contemplations, being a Canon of that
Church, where he dyed.
* * * * *
Mr. _WILLIAM CARTWRIGHT_.
Mr. _William Cartwright_ a Student of _Christ Church_ in _Oxford_,
where he lived in Fame and Reputation, for his singular Parts and
Ingenuity; being none of the least of _Apollo's_ Sons; for his
excelling vein in Poetry, which produc'd a Volume of Poems, publisht
not long after his Death, and usher'd into the World by Commendatory
Verses of the choicest Wits at that time; enough to have made a Volume
of it self: So much was he reverenced by the Lovers of the Muses. He
wrote, besides his Poems, _The Ordinary_, a Comedy; the _Royal Slave_,
_Lady Errant_, and _The Seige, Or, Loves Convert_, Tragi-Comedies.
* * * * *
Sir _ASTON COCKAIN_.
Sir _Aston Cockain_ laies Claim to a place in our Book, being remembred
to Posterity by four Plays which he wrote, _viz._ _The Obstinate Lady_,
a Comedy; _Trapolin supposed a Prince_, _Tyrannical Government_,
Tragi-Comedies; and _Thersites_ an Interlude.
* * * * *
_Sir JOHN DAVIS_.
This worthy Knight, to whom Posterity is indebted for his learned
Works, was well beloved of Queen _Elizabeth_, and in great Favour with
King _James_. His younger Years he addicted to the study of Poetry,
which produced two excellent Poems, _Nosce Teipsum_, and _Ochestra_:
Works which speak themselves their own Commendations: He also wrote a
judicious Metaphrase on several of _David's_ Psalms, which first made
him known at Court: afterwards addicting himself to the Study of the
Common-Law of _England_; he was first made the Kings Serjeant, and
after his Attorney-General in _Ireland_.
* * * * *
_THOMAS MAY_.
_Thomas May_ was one in his time highly esteemed, not only for
his Translation of _Virgils Georgicks_ and _Lucans Pharsalia_ into
English, but what he hath written _Propria Minerva_, as his Supplement
to _Lucan_, till the Death of _Julius Cæsar_: His History of _Henry_
the Second in Verse; besides what he wrote of Dramatick, as his
Tragedies of _Antigone_, _Agrippina_, and _Cleopatra_; _The Heir_, a
Tragi-Comedy; _The Old Couple_, and _the Old Wives Tale_, Comedies; and
the History of _Orlando Furioso_; of these his Tragi-Comedy of _The
Heir_ is done to the life, both for Plot and _Language_; and good had
it been for his Memory to Posterity, if he had left off Writing here;
but taking disgust at Court for being frustrated in his Expectation of
being the Queens Poet, for which he stood Candidate with Sir _William
Davenant_, who was preferred before him, out of meer Spleen, as it is
thought for his Repulse, he vented his Spite in his History of the late
Civil Wars of _England_; wherein he shews all the Spleen of a
Male-contented Poet, making thereby his Friends his Foes, and rendring
his Fame odious to Posterity; such is the Nature of Malice, that as the
Poet saith,
Impoison'd with the Drugs of cruel Hate,
Draw on themselves an unavoided Fate.
* * * * *
_CHARLES ALEYN_.
_Charles Aleyn_ was one and that no despicable Poet, as may be seen by
his Works, which still live in Fame and Reputation, writing in Heroick
verse the Life of King _Henry_ the Seventh, with the Battle of
_Bosworth_; and also the Battle of _Crescy_ and _Poietiers_, in which
he is very pithy and sententious: I shall only give you two instances,
the first out of his Battle of _Crescy_.
They swell with love who are with valour fill'd,
And _Venus_ Doves may in a Head-piece build.
The other out of his History of King _Henry_ the Seventh.
Man and Money a mutual Falshood show,
Man makes false Mony, Mony makes man so.
* * * * *
_GEORGE WITHERS_.
_George Withers_ was one who loved to Fish in troubled Waters, being
never more quiet then when in Trouble, of a restless Spirit, and
contradicting Disposition; gaining more by Restraint then others could
get by their Freedom, which his ungoverned (not to say worse) Pen often
brought him unto, so that the _Marshalsea_ and _Newgate_ were no
Strangers unto him. He was born in _Hantshire_ (if it be every whit the
more honour to the County for his Birth) a prodigious Pourer forth of
Rhime, which he spued from his Maw, as _Tom Coriat_ formerly used to
spue _Greek_, and that with a great pretence to a Poetical Zeal,
against the Vices of the Times; which he mightily exclaim'd against in
his _Abuses Stript and Whipt_, his _Motto_, _Brittains Remembrancer_,
&c. with other Satyrical Works of the like nature: He turn'd also into
_English_ Verse the Songs of _Moses_, and other Hymns of the Old
Testament; besides these he wrote a Poem called _Philaret_, the
_Shepherds Hunting_, his _Emblems_, _Campo Musæ_, _Opo-Balsamum_, the
_Two Pitchers_, and others more then a good many, had not his Muse been
more Loyal than it was; he was living about the Year 1664. when I saw
him, and suppose he lived not long after.
* * * * *
_ROBERT HERRIC_.
_Robert Herric_ one of the Scholars of _Apollo_ of the middle Form, yet
something above _George Withers_, in a pretty Flowry and Pastoral Gale
of Fancy, in a vernal Prospect of some Hill, Cave, Rock, or Fountain;
which but for the Interruption of other trivial Passages, might have
made up none of the worst Poetick Landskips. Take a view of his Poetry
in his Errata to the Reader in these lines.
For these Errata's, Reader thou do'st see,
Blame thou the Printer for them, and not me:
Who gave him forth good Grain, tho he mistook,
And so did sow these Tares throughout my Book.
I account him in Fame much of the same rank, as he was of the same
Standing, with one _Robert Heath_, the Author of a Poem, Entituled,
_Clarastella_, the ascribed Title of that Celebrated Lady, who is
supposed to have been both the Inspirer and chief Subject of them.
* * * * *
_JOHN TAYLOR_ the Water-Poet.
Some perhaps may think this Person unworthy to be ranked amongst those
Sons of _Apollo_ whom we mentioned before; but to them we shall answer,
That had he had Learning according to his natural Parts, he might have
equal'd, if not exceeded, many who claim a great share in the Temple of
the Muses. Indeed, for ought I can understand, he never learned no
further then his _Accidence_, as we may learn from his own Words in one
of his Books.
I must confess I do want Eloquence,
And never Scarce did learn my _Accidence_;
For having got from _Possum_ to _Posset;_
I there was gravel'd, could no further get.
He was born in _Glocester-shire_, where he went to School with one
_Green_; who, as _John Taylor_ saith, loved new Milk so well, that to
be sure to have it new, he went to the Market to buy a Cow; but his
Eyes being Dim, he cheapned a Bull, and asking the price of the Beast,
the Owner and he agreed; and driving it home, would have his Maid to
Milk it, which she attempting to do, could find no Teats: and whilst
the Maid and her Master were arguing the matter, the Bull very fairly
pist into the Pail; whereupon his Scholar _John Taylor_ wrote these
Verses.
Our Master _Green_ was over-seen
In buying of a Bull,
For when the Maid did mean to milk,
He pist the Pail half full.
He was afterwards bound Apprentice to a Waterman of _London_, a
Laborious Trade: and yet though it be said, that _Ease is the Nurse of
Poetry_, yet did he not only follow his Calling, but also plyed his
Writings, which in time produced above fourscore Books, which I have
seen; besides several others unknown to me; some of which were
dedicated to King _James_, and King _Charles_ the First, and by them
well accepted, considering the meanness of his Education to produce
works of Ingenuity. He afterwards kept a Publick House in _Phoenix
Alley_ by _Long-Acre_ continuing very constant in his Loyalty to the
King, upon whose doleful Murther he set up the Sign of the _Mourning
Crown_; but that being counted Malignant in those times of Rebellion,
he pulled down that, and hung up his own Picture, under which were writ
these two lines.
There's many a King's Head hang'd up for a Sign,
And many a Saint's Head too, then why not Mine?
He dyed about the Year 1654. upon whom one bestowed this Epitaph.
Here lies the Water-Poet, honest _John_,
Who rowed on the Streams of _Helicon_;
Where having many Rocks and dangers past,
He at the Haven of Heaven arriv'd at last.
* * * * *
_THOMAS RAWLINS_.
_Thomas Rawlins_ my old Friend, chief Graver of the Mint to King
_Charles_ the First, as also to King _Charles_ the Second till the Year
1670. in which he died. He was an Excellent Artist, perhaps better then
a Poet, yet was he the Author of a Tragedy called _The Rebellion_,
which hath been acted not without good Applause; besides some other
small things which he wrote.
* * * * *
_Mr. THOMAS CAREW_.
This learned Gentleman Mr. _Carew_, one of the Bed-Chamber to King
_Charles_ the First, was in his time reckoned among the chiefest for
delicacy of wit and Poetick Fancy, which gained him a high Reputation
amongst the most ingenious persons of that Age. He was a great
acquaintance of Mr. _Thomas May_, whom none can deny to be an able
Poet, although Discontent made him warp his Genius contrary to his
natural Fancy, in commentation of whose Tradi-Comedy called _The Heir_,
Mr. _Carew_ wrote an excellent paper of Verses. His Books of Poems do
still maintain their fame amongst the Curious of the present age.
* * * * *
Col. _RICHARD LOVELACE_.
I can compare no Man so like this Colonel _Lovelace_ as Sir _Philip
Sidney_, of which latter it is said by one in an Epitaph made of him,
Nor is it fit that more I should acquaint,
Lest Men adore in one
A Scholar, Souldier, Lover, and a Saint.
As for their parallel, they were both of noble Parentage, Sir _Philips_
Father being Lord Deputy of _Ireland_, and President of _Wales_; our
Colonel of a Vicount's name and Family; Scholars none can deny them
both: The one Celebrated his Mistress under the bright name of
_Stella_, the other the Lady Regent of his Affections, under the Banner
of _Lucasta_, both of them endued with transcendent Sparks of Poetick
Fire, and both of them exposing their Lives to the extreamest hazard of
doubtful War; both of them such Soldiers as is expressed by the Poet.
Undaunted Spirits, that encounter those
Sad dangers, we to Fancy scarce propose.
To conclude, Mr. _Lovelace's_ Poems did, do, and still will live in
good Esteem with all knowing true Lovers of Ingenuity.
* * * * *
_ALEXANDER BROOME_.
_Alexander Broome_ our English _Anacreon_, was an Attorney in the Lord
Mayors Court; who besides his practice in Law, addicted himself to a
Jovial strain in the ravishing Delights of Poetry; being the ingenious
Author of most of those Songs, which on the Royalists account came
forth during the time of the _Rump_, and _Oliver's_ Usurpation; and
were sung so often by the Sons of Mirth and _Bacchus_, and plaid to by
the sprightly Violin. Take for a tast a verse of one of his Songs.
Come, come, let us drink,
'Tis in vain to think,
Like fools, on grief or Sadness;
Let our Money fly,
And our Sorrows die,
_All worldly care is Madness_:
But Sack and good Chear,
Will in spight of our fear,
Inspire our Souls with Gladness.
I shall only add his Poem which he made on the great Cryer at
_Westminster-Hall_, by which you may judge of his Abilities in Poetry.
When the Great Cryer in that greater Room,
Calls _Faunt-le-roy_, and _Alexander Broome_,
The people wonder (as those heretofore,
When the Dumb spoke) to hear a Cryer Roar.
The kitling Crue of Cryers that do stand
With _Eunuchs_ voices, squeaking on each hand,
Do signifie no more, compar'd to him,
Then Member _Allen_ did to Patriot _Pim_.
Those make us laugh, while we do him adore;
Their's are but _Pistol_, his Mouths _Cannon-Bore_.
Now those same thirsty Spirits that endeavor,
To have their names enlarg'd, and last for ever,
Must be Attorneys of this Court, and so
His voice shall like Fame's loudest Trumpet blow
Their names about the world, and make them last,
While we can lend an Ear, or he a Blast.
He wrote besides those airy Fancies, several other Serious Pieces; as
also a Comedy called the _Cunning Lover_.
* * * * *
_Mr. JOHN CLEVELAND_.
This eminent Poet, the Wit of our age, was born at _Hinckley_, a small
Market Town in the County of _Leicester_, where his Father was the
Reverend and Learned Minister of the place. _Fortes creantur e
fortibus_, and bred therein under Mr. _Richard Vines_ his
School-master, where he attained to a great perfection in Learning, by
choicest Elegancies in Greek and Latin, more elegantly English; so that
he may be said to have lisped wit, like an English _Bard_, and early
ripe accomplished for the University.
From a loving Father and learned School-Master, he was sent to _Christ
Colledge_ in _Cambridge_, where he proved such an exquisite Orator, and
pure Latinist, as those his Deserts preferred him to a Fellowship in
St. _Johns_. There he lived about the space of nine Years, the Delight
and Ornament of that Society; what service as well as reputation he did
it, let his excellent Orations and Epistles speak: To which the Library
oweth much of its Learning, the Chapel much of its pious Decency, and
the Colledge much of its Renown.
He was (saith Dr. _Fuller_) a general Artist, pure Latinist, exquisite
Orator, and (which was his Master-Piece) eminent Poet; whose verses in
the time of the Civil War begun to be in great request, both for their
Wit and Zeal to the King's Cause, for which indeed he appeared the
first, if not only Champion in verse against the _Presbyterian_ party.
His Epistles were pregnant with Metaphors, carrying in them a difficult
plainness, difficult at the hearing, plain at the considering thereof.
His lofty Fancy may seem to stride from the top of one Mountain to the
top of another, so making to it self a constant Level and Champian of
continued Elevations.
These his eminent parts preferr'd him to be Rhetorick Reader, which he
performed with great Applause; and indeed, what was it in which he did
not excel? This alone may suffice for his Honour, that after the
Oration which he addressed to that incomparable Prince of Blessed
Memory, _Charles_ the First; His Majesty called for him, gave him his
hand to Kiss, and (with great expressions of kindness) commanded a Copy
to be sent after him, whither he was hasting that night.
Such who have _Clevelandiz'd_, that is, endeavoured to imitate his
Masculine stile, yet could never go beyond his Poem of the
_Hermaphrodite_; which though inserted into Mr. _Randolphs_ Poems (one
of as high a tow'ring Wit as most in that age;) yet is well known to be
Mr. _Clevelands_; it being not only made after Mr. _Randolph's_ death,
but hath in it the very _vein_ and strain of Mr. _Cleveland's_ Writing,
walking from one height to another, in a constant Level of continued
Elevation. And indeed so elaborate are all his other pieces of Poetry,
as to praise one were to detract from the rest, and are not to be the
less valued by the Reader, because most studyed by the Writer: Take but
a taste of the Loftiness of his stile, in those verses of his called
_Smectymnuus_.
_Smectymnuus!_ the Goblin makes me start,
I'th'name of Rabbi _Abraham_, what art?
_Syriack?_ or _Arabick?_ or _Welsh?_ what skilt?
Ap all the Brick-layers that _Babel_ built.
Some Conjurer translate, and let me know it;
Till then 'tis fit for a _West-Saxon_ Poet.
But do the Brother-hood then play their prizes,
Like Mummers in Religion with Disguizes?
Out-brave us with a name in rank and file,
A name which if't were train'd would spread a mile;
The Saints Monopoly, the zealous Cluster,
Which like a Porcupine presents a Muster.
Thus he shined with equal Light and Influence, until that great
defection of Loyalty over-spread the Land, and Rebellion began to
unvizard it self; of which no Man had more sagacious Prognosticks, of
which take this one instance; when _Oliver Cromwell_ was in Election to
be Burgess for the Town of _Cambridge_, as he ingaged all his Friends
and Interests to oppose it; so when it was passed, he said with much
passionate zeal, _That single vote ruined both Church and Kingdom_;
such fatal events did he presage from his bloody Beak: For no sooner
did that _Harpey_ appear in the University, but he made good what was
predicted of him, and he amongst others, that were outed for their
Loyalty, was turned out of his Fellowship at St. _Johns_; out of which
Loyal Colledge was then ejected Dr. _Beal_ the Master, thirteen
Batchellors of Divinity, and fourteen Masters of Art, besides Mr.
_Cleveland_.
And now being forced from the Colledge, he betook himself to the Camp,
and particularly to _Oxford_ the Head quarter of it, as the most proper
and proportionate Sphere for his Wit, Learning, and Loyalty; and added
no small Lustre to that famous University, with which it shined before.
Here he managed his Pen as the highest Panegyrist (witness his
_Rupertismus_, his Elegy on the Bishop of _Canterbury_, &c.) on the one
side to draw out all good inclinations to vertue: and the smartist
Satyrist, exemplifi'd in the _Rebel Scot_, the _Scots Apostacy_, which
he presented with such a Satyrical Fury, that the whole Nation fares
the worse for it, lying under a most grievous Poetical Censure. Such
also were his Poem of _The mixt Assembly_, his Character of a _London_
Diurnal, and a _Committee-Man_; Blows that shakes triumphing Rebellion,
reaching the Souls of those not to be reached by Law or Power, striking
each Traytor to a Paleness, beyond that of any Loyal Corps, that bled
by them; such Characters being as indelible as Guilt stabs beyond
Death.
From _Oxford_, his next stage was the Garrison of _Newark_, where he
was Judge Advocate until the Surrender thereof; and by an excellent
temperature of both, was a just and prudent Judge for the King, and a
faithful Advocate for the Country. Here he drew up that excellent
Answer and Rejoynder to a Parliament Officer, who had sent him a Letter
by occasion of one _Hill_, that had deserted their side, and brought
with him to _Newark_ the sum of 133 _l._ and 8_d._ I shall only give
you part of Mr. _Clevelands_ Answer to his first Letter, by which you
may give an Estimate of the rest.
Sixthly, _Beloved it is so, that our Brother and fellow-Labourer in the
Gospel is Start aside; then this may serve for an use of instruction,
not to trust in Man, or in the Son of Man. Did not_ Demas _leave_ Paul,
_did not_ Onesimus _run from his Master_ Philemon? _Also this should
teach us to employ our Talents, and not to lay them up in a Napkin_;
_had it been done among the Cavaliers, it had been just, then the_
Israelite _had spoiled the_ Ægyptian: _but for_ Simeon _to plunder_
Levi, _that_--that--_&c._
This famous Garrison was maintained with much courage and resolution
against the Besiegers, and not surrendred but by the King's special
Command, when first he had surrendred himself into the hands of the
_Scots_; in which action of that Royal Martyr, we may conclude our
_Cleveland Vates,_ both Poet and Prophet: For besides his passionate
resentment of it in that excellent Poem, _The Kings disguise_; upon
some private intelligence, three days before the King reached them, he
foresaw the pieces of Silver paying upon the banks of _Tweed_, and that
they were the price of his Sovereigns Blood, and predicted the Tragical
events.
Thenceforth he followed the fate of distressed Loyalty, subject to the
Malice and Vengeance of every Fanatick Spirit, which seldom terminates
but in a Goal, which befel this learned Person, being long imprisoned
at _Yarmouth_: where living in a lingering Condition, and having small
hopes of coming out, he composed an Address to that Idol at
_White-Hall, Oliver Cromwell_, written with such Tow'ring Language, and
so much gallant Reason, as looked bigger than his Highness, shrinking
before the Majesty of his Pen, as _Felix_ trembled before _Paul_. So
obtaining his Liberty, not by a servile Submission, but rather a
constrained Violence, neither injuring his Conscience, nor betraying
his Cause.
And so now with _Daniel_ being delivered out of the Lyons Den, he was
courted to several places, (which contended as emulously for his abode,
as the seven _Grecian_ Cities for _Homers_ Birth;) at last he setled in
_Grays-Inn_, which when he had enobled with some short time of his
residence, an intermitting Fever seized him, whereof he dyed, on
_Thursday_ Morning, _April_ the 29. 1658. from whence his Body was
brought to _Hunsden-House_, and on _Saturday_ being _May-day_, was
buried at _Colledgehill-Church_; His dear Friend Dr. _John Pearson_
(afterwards Lord Bishop of _Chester_) preached his Funeral Sermon, who
rendred this Reason; why he cautiously declined all commending of the
Party deceased, Because such praising of him would not be adequate to
any expectation in that Auditory; seeing some, who knew him not, would
think it far above him, while those, who knew him must needs know it
far below him.
Many there were who sought to eternize their own Names by honouring
his; some by Elegies, and other Devices, amongst the rest one made this
Anagram upon his name.
_JOHN CLEAVELAND_.
_HELICONIAN DEW_.
The difficult Trifle (saith one) is rather well endeavoured, than
exactly performed. More happy were those Wits, who descanted on him and
his works in Verse, although so eminent a Poet was never interred with
fewer Elegies than he; for which we may assign two Reasons, One that at
that time the best Fancies of the _Royal Party_ were in restraint, so
that we may in part think their Muses confin'd, as well as their
Bodies. Secondly, not to do it to the heighth, were in a manner to
dispraise him. However I shall adventure to give you an instance in
two, whereof the first of Mr. _Edward Martin_ of _London_.
Ye Muses do not me deny;
I ever was your Votary.
And tell me, seeing you do daign
T'inspire and feed the hungry Brain;
With what choice Cates? With what choice Fare?
To _Cleaveland's_ fancy still repair?
Fond Man, say they, why do'st thou question thus?
Ask rather with what Nectar he feeds us.
The other by Mr. _A.B._ printed before Mr. _Cleveland's_ Works.
_Cleaveland_ again his sacred head doth raise,
Even in the dust crown'd with immortal Bayes,
Again with verses arm'd that once did fright
_Lycambe's_ Daughters from the hated Light,
Sets his bold foot on Reformations neck,
And triumphs o'er the vanquisht Monster _Smec_;
That _Hydra_ whose proud heads did so encrease,
That it deserv'd no less an _Hercules_.
This, this is he who in Poetick Rage,
With Scorpions lash'd the Madness of the age;
Who durst the fashions of the times despise,
And be a Wit when all Mankind grew wise.
When formal Beards at Twenty one were seen,
And men grew Old almost as soon as Men:
Who in those daies when reason, wit, and sence
Were by the Zealots grave Impertinence
_Ycliped_ Folly, and in Ve-ri-ty
Did savour rankly of Carnality.
When each notch'd Prentice might a Poet prove.
For warbling through the Nose a Hymn of Love,
When sage _George Withers_ and grave _William Prin_,
Himself might for a Poets share put in:
Yet then could write with so much art and skill,
That _Rome_ might envy his Satyrick Quill;
And crabbed _Persins_ his hard lines give ore,
And in disdain beat his brown Desk no more.
How I admire the _Cleaveland_! when I weigh
Thy close-wrought Sense, and every line survey!
They are not like those things which some compose,
Who in a maze of Words the Sense do lose.
Who spin one thought into so long a thread,
And beat their Wit we thin to make it spread;
Till 'tis too fine for our weak eyes to find,
And dwindles into Nothing in the end.
No; they'r above the Genius of this Age,
Each word of thine swells pregnant with a Page.
Then why do some Mens nicer ears complain,
Of the uneven Harshness of thy strain?
Preferring to the vigour of thy Muse
Some smooth weak Rhymer, that so gently flowes,
That Ladies may his easy strains admire,
And melt like Wax before the softning fire.
Let such to Women write, you write to Men;
We study thee, when we but play with them.
* * * * *
Sir _JOHN BERKENHEAD_.
Sir _John Berkenhead_ was a Gentleman, whose Worth and deserts were too
high for me to delineate. He was a constant Assertor of his Majesties
Cause in its lowest Condition, painting the Rebels forth to the life in
his _Mercurius Aulicus_ and other Writings; his _Zany Brittanicus_ who
wrote against him, being no more his Equal, than a Dwarf to a Gyant, or
the goodness of his cause to that of the Kings; for this his Loyalty he
suffered several Imprisonments, yet always constant to his first
Principles. His skill in Poetry was such, that one thus writes of him.
Whil'st Lawrel sprigs anothers head shall Crown,
Thou the whole Grove mayst challenge as thy Own.
He survived to see his Majesties happy Restoration, and some of them
hanged who used their best endeavor to do the same by him. As for his
learned Writings, those who are ignorant of them, must plead ignorance
both to Wit and Learning.
* * * * *
Dr. _ROBERT WILD_.
He was one, and not of the meanest of the Poetical Cassock, being in
some sort a kind of an _Anti-Cleaveland_, writing as high, and standing
up as stifly for the _Presbyterians_, as ever _Cleaveland_ did against
them: But that which most recommended him to publick fame, was his
_Iter Roreale_, the same in Title though not in Argument, with that
little, but much commended Poem of Dr. _Corbets_ mentioned before. This
being upon General _Monk's_ Journey out of _Scotland_, in order to his
Majesties Restoration, and is indeed the Cream and flower of all his
Works, and look't upon for a lofty and conceited Stile. His other
things are for the most part of a tepid and facetious nature,
reflecting on others, who as sharply retorted upon him, for he that
throwes stones at other, 'tis ten to one but is hit with a stone
himself; one of them playing upon his red face thus. I _like the Man
that carries in his Face,_ _the tincture of that bloody banner he
fights under, and would not have any Mans countenance, prove so much an
Hypocrite to cross a French Proverb._
His Nose plainly proves,
What pottage he loves.
Hear one of their reflections upon him, on his humble thanks, for his
Majesties Declaration for Liberty of Confidence.
When first the _Hawkers_ bawl'd 'ith' streets _Wild_'s name,
A lickerish longing to my Pallat came;
A feast of Wit I look't for, but, alass!
The meat smelt strong, and too much _Sawce_ there was, _&c._
Indeed his strain, had it been fitted to a right key, might have
equal'd the chiefest of his age.
* * * * *
Mr. _ABRAHAM COWLEY_.
This Gentleman was one, who may well be stil'd the glory of our
Nation, both of the present and past ages, whole early Muse began to
dawn at the Thirteenth year of his age, being then a Scholar at
_Westminster_-School which produc'd two little Poems, the one called
_Antonius_ and _Melida_, the other _Pyramus_ and _Thisbe_; discovering
in them a maturity of Sence far above the years that writ them; shewing
by these his early Fruits, what in time his stock of worth would come
to. And indeed Fame was not deceived in him of its Expectation, he
having built a lasting Monument of his worth to posterity, in that
compleat Volume of his Works, divided into four parts: His Mistress,
being the amorous Prolusions of his youthful Muse; his Miscelanies, or
Poems of various arguments; his most admired Heroick Poem _Davideis_,
the first Books whereof he compos'd while but a young Student at
_Trinity_-Colledge in _Cambridge_; and lastly, that is, in order of
time though not of place, his _Pindaric Odes_, so call'd from the
Measure, in which he translated the first _Ithmian_ and _Nemean Odes_,
where as the form of those _Odes_ in the _Original_ is very different,
yet so well were they approved by succeeding Authors, that our primest
Wits have hitherto driven a notable Trade in _Pindaric Odes_. But
besides these his _English_ Poems, there is extant of his writing a
Latine Volume by it self, containing a Poem of Herbs and Plants: Also
he Translated two Books of his _Davideis_ into Latine Verse, which is
in the large Volume amongst the rest of his Works.
* * * * *
Mr. _EDMOND WALLER_.
This Gentleman is one of the most fam'd Poets, and that not
undeservedly of the present age, excelling in the charming Sweets of
his Lyrick Odes, or amorous Sonnets, as also in his other occasional
Poems both smooth and strenuous, rich of Conceit, and eloquently
adorned with proper Similies: view his abilities in this Poem of his,
concerning the Puissance of our Navies, and the _English_ Dominion at
Sea.
Lords of the Worlds great Wast, the Ocean, we
Whole Forrests send to reign upon the Sea;
And every Coast may trouble or relieve,
But none can visit us without our leave;
Angels and we have this Prerogative,
That none can at our happy Seat arrive,
While we descend at pleasure to invade
The bad with Vengeance, or the good to aid:
Our little world the image of the great,
Like that amidst the boundless Ocean set,
Of her own growth has all that Nature craves,
And all that's rare as Tribute from the waves.
_As Ægypt_ does not on the Clouds rely,
But to her _Nyle_ owes more then to the sky;
So what our Earth, and what our Heaven denies,
Our ever constant friend, the Sea supplies.
The tast of hot _Arabia's_ Spice we know,
Free from the Scorching Sun that makes it grow;
Without the worm, in _Persian_ Silks we shine,
And without Planting drink of every Vine;
To dig for wealth we weary not our limbs,
Gold, though the heaviest metal, hither swims.
Ours is the Harvest where the _Indians_ mow,
We plough the deep, and reap what others Sow.