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(1605–1687.) EDMOND WALLER was born at Coleshill, in Hertfordshire, in the year 1605. His mother was sister to the patriot Hampden. He entered Parliament at the early age of eighteen, and at the same time commenced a long era of poetical production. In 1630 he married, and became a widower the same year. He now devoted his attentions and his muse in a hopeless suit to Lady Dorothea Sidney, eldest daughter of the Earl of Leicester. This lady he celebrated under the name of Sacharissa. He was convicted of having been concerned in a plot to surprise the City Militia and to let in the king's forces; and for this he was sentenced to pay a fine of £10,000, and to suffer a year's imprisonment. At the expiration of this term he went over to France; from which, after ten years of exile, he returned during the Protectorate. He wrote a vigorous panegyric at the time of Cromwell's death; and with a timeserving but inferior inspiration, welcomed Charles II. to the throne of his ancestors. Waller served in several Parliaments, during which, according to Bishop Burnet, he was the delight of the House of Commons. He died at Beaconsfield in 1687.

The following lines form the third canto of a poem " Of Divine Love,” in six cantos, which he wrote at four-score, as an amende for long years of frivolity. His regret then was that he had not dedicated his more youthful muse to serious subjects; but he professed that his lofty argumont elevated him to its own height; and that, apart from the feebleness of his aged faculties, the subject brought its own inspiration, and made him “able to indite."


Not willing terror should his image move,
He gives a pattern of eternal love;
His Son descends, to treat a peace with those
Which were, and must have ever been his foes.
Poor He became, and left his glorious seat,
To make us humble, and to make us great:
His business here was happiness to give
To those whose malice would not let Him live.

Legions of angels, which he might have used
(For us resolved to perish), He refused :
WI they stood ready to prevent his loss,
Love took Him up, and nailed Him to the cross.
Immortal love! which in his bowels reigned
That we might be by such great love constrained
To make return of love: upon this pole
Our duty does, and our religion, roll.
To love is to believe, to hope, to know;
"T'is an essay, a taste of heaven below!

He to proud potentates would not be known;
Of those that loved Him He was hid from none.
Till love appear, we live in anxious doubt;
But smoke will vanish when that flame breaks out;
This is the fire that would consume our dross,
Refino, and make us richer by the loss.

Could we forbear dispute and practise love,
We should agree as angels do above.
Where love presides, not vice alone does find
No entrance there, but virtues stay behind;
Both faith and hope, and all the meaner train
Of moral virtues, at the door remain.
.Love only enters as a native there;
For, born in heaven, it does but sojourn here.

He that alone would wise and mighty be,
Commands that others love as well as He,
Love as He loved! How can we soar so high?
He can add wings when He commands to fly.

Nor should we be with this command dismayed;
He that examples gives will give his aid:
For He took flesh,

that, where his precepts fail, His practice as a pattern may prevail

. His love at once, and dread instruct our thought; As man He suffered, and as God He taught. Will for the deed He takes : we may with ease Obedient be, for if we love we please. Weak though we are, to love is no hard task, And love for love is all that heaven does ask. Love! that would all men just and temperate make, Kind to themselves and others for his sake.

'Tis with our minds as with a fertile ground, Wanting this love they must with weeds abound, (Unruly passions) whose effects are worse Than thorns and thistles springing from the curse.


(1618-1667.) ABRAHAM COWLEY, the posthumous son of a respectable tradesman, was born in London in the year 1618. He was admitted as a king's scholar at Westminster, and elected to Trinity College, Cambridge, in his eighteenth year. When his opinions, which were obnoxious to the Parliamentary party, caused his ejection from Cambridge, he sought the more loyal University of Oxford, and studied there for some time. He accompanied the queen to Trance, where he served her as secretary, and was employed on various important and secret missions. After twelve years of expatriation, Cowley returned to England, where he hoped great things from the gratitude of the restored king, Charles II. Disappointed, however, in his expectations of state preferment, he obtained, through Lord St. Alban's and the Duke of Buckingham, the lease of some lands belonging to the queen, worth about £300 per annum. On this provision he settled at Chertsey, an ancient town on the Surrey side of the Thames, which, unfortunately, he did not experience to be a paradise. Cowley passed about seven years in his retirement, and died, after a fortnight's illness, July 28th, 1667. “Here the last accents fell from Cowley's tongue," is the inscription which still appears upon a projecting portion of the house in which he lived; and a room called after his name, and adorned with his relics and souvenirs, still engages the pious care of the present occupant. Cowley's remains were conveyed by water to Westminster, and were interred with considerable splendour in the abbey.

Cowley's genius was precocious; before he was fifteen he published a volume of poems, under the title of “Poetic Blossoms,” one of the pieces in which, “The Tragical History of Pyramus and Thisbe,” had been written five years before. The four books of his un. finished epic, entitled “ Davideis,” were mostly written while he was a student of Trinity College, Cambridge. Other works were, a pastoral drama, called Love's Riddle;" a Latin comedy, "Naufragium Joculare;" "The Mistress;" and a comedy, first known as “The Guardian," and afterwards, with alterations, as “ The Cutter of Coleman Street;" and the “Pindarique Odes.” Dr. Thomas Sprat, Bishop of Rochester, Cowley's literary executor, wrote the life of the poet; and, in accordance with his will, revised all his works that had been already printed, and collected “ those papers which he had designed for the press.” The popularity of Cowley as a poet, once so wide spread and remarkable, is now barely sustained by the respectability of his character as a Christian.


THE USE OF IT IN DIVINE MATTERS. Some blind themselves, 'cause possibly they may

Be led by others a right way;
They build on sands, which if unmoved they find,

Tis that there was no wind.
Less hard 'tis not to err ourselves, than know

If our forefathers erred or no,
When we trust men concerning God, we then

Trust not God concerning men.
Visions and inspirations some expect

Their course here to direct;
Like senseless chymists their own wealth destroy,

Imaginary gold t' enjoy:
So stars appear to drop to us from sky,

And gild the passage as they fly;
But when

they fall, and meet the opposing ground, What but a sordid slime is found ? Sometimes their fancies they 'bove reason set,

And fast, that they may dream of meat;
Sometimes ill spirits their sickly souls delude,

And bastard forms obtrude;
So Endor's wretched sorceress, although

She Saul through his disguise did know,
Yet, when the devil comes up disguised, she cries,

“Behold the gods arise.” In vain, alas! these outward hopes are tried;

Reason within 's our only guide;
Reason, which (God be praised !) still walks, for all

Its old original fall;
And, since itself the boundless Godhead joined,

With a reasonable mind,
It plainly shows that mysteries divine

May with our reason join.
The holy book, like the eighth sphere, does shine

With thousand lights of truth divine;
So numberless the stars, that to the eye

It makes but all one galaxy.
Yet reason must assist too; for in seas

So vast, and dangerous as these,
Our course by stars above we cannot know,

Without the compass too below.

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