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Thenceforth all world's desire will in thee die,
And all earth's glory, on which men do gaze,
Compared to that celestial beauty's blaze,
With heavenly thoughts far above human skill,
Th’ idea of his pure glory present still
Before thy face, that all thy spirits shall fill
MINISTRATION OF ANGELS.
How oft do they their silver bowers leave
FRAIL ESTATE OF MAN.
Such is the weakness of all mortal hope,
And bring us bale and bitter sorrowings,
THE MIND THE MEASURE OF WEALTI.
In vain do men
It is the mind that maketh good or ill,
(1552--1618.) SIR WALTER RALEIGH was born at Hayes Farm, in the parish of East Budeleigh, in Devonshire. He was the youngest son of Walter Raleigh, Esq., the representative of an ancient family of comparatively limited fortune. He spent three years at Oriel College, Oxford; and left the university, at the age of seventeen, to join a troop of a hundred gentlemen volunteers whom Queen Elizabeth permitted Raleigh's relative, Henry Champernoun, to transport to the continent in the interest of the Protes. tant princes. After some years spent in varied military service, both on the continent and in Ireland, and in an unfortunate venture by sea, he colonized Virginia, which he so named in honour of the queen, by whom he had been taken into favour. About the time of the accession of James I., in 1603, he was accused of furthering the claims of Arabella Stuart to the English throne, and brought in guilty of high treason. He was sentenced to die, but reprieved, and detained in the Tower for twelve years, during which he wrote his “History of the World.” A large bribe to Villiers, the king's new favourite, procured his release in 1616. Next year he went out in command of a fleet against the Spaniards in South America. Every particular of his force and of his designs was betrayed by the king to Gondomar, the Spanish ambassador, who transmitted the information to his own government. Sir Walter returned unsuccessful, was arraigned before the Court of King's Bench, and executed under his former sentence, his offence-although it had been condoned by his commission from the king-never having been formally pardoned. He closed a life of brilliant versatility by an undaunted death, October 29th, 1618.
To him eminently belonged "the courtier's, soldier's, scholar's eye, tongue, sword;" but from the difficulty of authenticating many of the pieces ascribed to him, arises a difficulty in forming a competent estimate of his poetical genius. His muse, which Spenser praises as "sweetly tempered” and “lofty," was rather bold and vigorous than minutely elegant. “His Pilgrimage" is