[This letter was written by Dryden, while a student at Cambridge, to his cousin Honor Dryden, who was then about eighteen years old. She never married, and in her later years is said to have lived with her brother, John Driden of Chesterton, to whom our author, in 1699, addressed one of his best poetical epistles. See p. 784, below. The letter was first printed by Malone, from the original manuscript, now lost. The transcript below follows strictly Malone's text, which very properly preserves Dryden's vagaries of spelling.] IF you have received the lines I sent by the reverend Levite, I doubt not but they have exceedingly wrought upon you; for beeing so longe in a clergy-man's pocket, assuredly they have acquired more sanctity than theire authour meant them. Alasse, Madame! for ought I know, they may become a sermon ere they could arrive at you; and believe it, haveing you for the text, it could scarcely proove bad, if it light upon one that could handle it indifferently. But I am so miserable a preacher, that though I have so sweet and copious a subject, I still fall short in my expressions; and instead of an use of thanksgiving, I am allways makeing one of comfort, that I may one day againe have the happiness to kiss your faire hand; but that is a message I would not so willingly do by letter, as by word of mouth. This is a point, I must confesse, I could willingly dwell longer on; and in this case what ever I say you may confidently take for gospell. But I must hasten. And indeed, Madame, (beloved I had almost sayd,) hee had need hasten who treats of you; for to speake fully to every part of your excellencyes, requires a longer houre then most persons have allotted them. But, in a word, your selfe hath been the best expositor upon the text of your own worth, in that admirable comment you wrote upon it; I meane your incomparable letter. By all that 's good, (and you, Madame, are a great part of my oath,) it hath put mee so farre besides my selfe, that I have scarce patience to write prose, and my pen is stealing into verse every time I kisse your letter. I am sure the poor paper smarts for my idolatry; which by wearing it continually neere my brest, will at last be burnt and martyrd in those flames of adoration which it hath kindled in mee. But I forgett, Madame, what rarityes your letter came fraught with, besides words. You are such a deity that commands worship by provideing the sacrifice. You are pleasd, Madame, to force me to write by sending me materialls, and compell me to my greatest happinesse. Yet, though I highly value your magnificent presente, pardon mee, if I must tell the world they are imperfect emblems of your beauty; for the white and red of waxe and paper are but shaddowes of that vermillion and snow in your lips and forehead; and the silver of the inkehorne, if it presume to vye whitenesse with your purer skinne, must confesse it selfe blacker then the liquor it containes. What then do I more then retrieve your own guifts, and present you with that paper, adulterated with blotts, which you gave spotlesse ? For, since 't was mine, the white hath lost its hiew, To show 't was n'ere it selfe, but whilst in CONSECRATED TO THE GLORIOUS MEMORY OF HIS MOST SERENE AND RENOWN'D HIGHNESS OLIVER, LATE LORD PROTECTOR OF THIS COMMONWEALTH, &C. WRITTEN AFTER THE CELEBRATION OF HIS FUNERAL [Cromwell died on September 3, 1658, and was buried with great pomp on November 23. Dryden therefore wrote the following poem, his first important work, at the close of 1658, when he was already in his twenty-eighth year. By his choice of stanza, and by his comparatively simple style, he shows that he is now influenced by Davenant quite as much as by Cowley. This poem was published twice in 1659: separately, with a title-page reading, A Poem upon the Death of his Late Highness Oliver, Lord Protector of England, Scotland, & Ireland, written by Mr. Dryden. London, Printed for William Wilson; and, with poems by Waller and Sprat, in a volume entitled, Three Poems upon the Death of his late Highnesse Oliver, Lord Protector of England, Scotland, and Ireland, printed by the same publisher. General probability, confirmed by one significant variation in text (see note on line 56), points to the separate edition as the original one; the poem would be likely to appear first by itself rather than together with work by other authors. In 1682 some enemies of Dryden reprinted the Three Poems volume, with a title-page reading, Three Poems upon the Death of the Late Usurper Oliver Cromwel. The above heading is taken from the original Three Poems volume, the text of which was probably revised by Dryden from the earlier edition.] A POEM ON THE HAPPY RESTORATION AND RETURN OF HIS SACRED MAJESTY CHARLES THE SECOND [Charles landed at Dover on May 25, 1660, and Dryden's poem must have been composed soon after that date. It was published in the same year by Herringman, who remained Dryden's publisher until 1679. In 1688 this poem was reprinted for Herringman, in a quarto volume, together with To his Sacred Majesty, To my Lord Chancellor, and Annus Mirabilis. There are no significant variant readings. The present edition follows the text of 1660.] |