the merchant, and boast too much of the value of the jewel I possess, but have no mind to part with." He concludes with this just, yet modest appreciation of himself:-" If not too indulgent to what is mine own, I think even these verses will have that proportion in the world's opinion, that heaven hath allotted me in fortune,-not so high as to be wondered at, nor so low as to be contemned." In the description of "the MISTRESS," are some little touches inimitably graceful and complimentary. Though couched in general terms, it is of course a portrait of Lucy Herbert, such as she appeared to him in the days of their courtship, and fondly recalled and dwelt upon, when she had been many years a wife and a mother. He represents her" as fair as Nature intended her, helpt, perhaps, to a more pleasing grace by the sweetness of education, not by the sleight of art.” This discrimination is delicately drawn.-He continues," she is young; for a woman, past the delicacy of her spring, may well move to virtue by respect, never by beauty to affection. In her carriage, sober, thinking her youth expresseth life enough, without the giddy motion fashion of late hath taken up."-(This was early in the reign of the grave and correct Charles the First. What would Habington have said of the flaunting, fluttering, voluble beauties of Charles the Second's time ?) He extols the melody of her voice, her knowledge of music, and her grace in the dance : above all, he dwells on her retiring modesty, the favourite theme of his praise in prose and verse, which seems to have been the most striking part of her character, and her greatest charm in the eyes of her lover. He concludes, with the beautiful sentiment I have chosen as a motto to this little book." Only she, who hath as great a share in virtue as in beauty, deserves a noble love to serve her, and a free poesie to speak her!" The poems are all short, generally in the form of sonnets, if that name can be properly applied to all poems of fourteen lines, whatever the rhyth mical arrangement. The subjects of these, and their quaint expressive titles, form a kind of chronicle of their loves, in which every little incident is commemorated. Thus we have, "to Castara, inquiring why I loved her."-" To Castara, softly singing to herself.” "To Castara, leaving him on the approach of night.”— What should we fear, Castara? the cool air A nectar'd kiss, the wind dares not reveal "To Castara, on being debarred her presence," (probably by her father, Lord Powis.)— 66 Banish'd from you, I charged the nimble wind, In amorous whispers to you! Upon her intended journey into the country." 66 Upon Seymors," (a house near Marlow, where Castara resided with her parents, and where, it appears, he was not allowed to visit her.)" On a trembling kiss she had granted him on her departure." The commencement of this is beautiful: The Arabian wind, whose breathing gently blows Then we have, "to Castara, on visiting her in the night.”—This alludes to a meeting of the lovers, at a time they were debarred from each other's society. The following are more exquisitely graceful than any thing in Waller, yet much in his style. TO ROSES IN THE BOSOM OF CASTARA. Ye blushing virgins happy are In the chaste nunnery of her breast; For he'd profane so chaste a fair Who e'er should call it Cupid's nest. Transplanted thus, how bright ye grow! Are sweeter than i' the open field. In those white cloisters live secure, From the rude blasts of wanton breath; Each hour more innocent and pure, Till ye shall wither into death. Then that which living gave ye room, That breast hath marble been to me! The epistle to Castara's mother, Lady Eleanor Powis, who appears to have looked kindly on their love, contains some very beautiful lines, in which he asserts the disinterestedness of his affection for Castara, rich as she is in fortune, and derived from the blood of Charlemagne. My love is envious! would Castara were |