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Rein'd with respects, stands dumb,
Still fearing to offend.
Then since in vain I plaints impart
To scornful ears, in a contemned scroll,
Henceforth I'll hide my losses,
That do my joys o'erthrow;
I shall them only show.
Ah! unaffected lines,
True models of my heart;
power of passion, more than art.
EARL OF PEMBROKE.
The character of this nobleman is (as lord Orford has already
observed) most admirably drawn by lord Clarendon. (Hist. Rebellion, Vol. I. p. 57.) A collection of poems, partly written by him, partly by Sir Benjamin Ruddier, and partly (as it should seem) transcribed from other writers, was published in 1660, in one volume 8vo. If the following poem be really his, it is highly creditable to his taste.
So glides along the wanton brook,
With gentle pace into the main, Courting the banks with amorous look
He never means to see again.
And so does fortune use to smile
Upon the short-lived fav'rite's face, Whose swelling hopes she does beguile,
And always casts him in the race.
And so doth the fantastic boy,
The god of the ill-managed flames, Who ne'er kept word in promised joy,
To lover, nor to loying dames, So all alike will constant prove, Both fortune, running streams, and love.
EDWARD LORD HERBERT
This noble author is little known as an English poet, and it must be confessed that his younger son, Henry Herbert, who collected and published his poetry, shewed niore piety than taste by that publication. Its title is “ Occasional “ Verses of Edward lord Herbert, baron of Cherbury and “ Castle-island, deceased in August, 1648. London, printed
“ by T. R. &c. 1665.” 95 pages, 12mo. The following, selected from an Ode of 35 stanzas, are the
most tolerable verses in this little volume.
An Ode upon a question moved, whether Love should
continue for ever ?
Having interr’d her infant birth,
The watery ground that late did mourn,
Was strew'd with flowers, for the return Of the wish'd bridegroom of the earth.
The well-accorded birds did sing
nd, in a sweet consorted chime, Did welcome in the cheerful spring.
To which, soft whistles of the wind,
And warbling murmurs of a brook,
And varied notes of leaves that shook, And harmony of parts did bind.
When, with a love none can express,
That mutually happy pair,
Melander and Celinda fair
Walking thus tow'rds a pleasant grove,
Which did, it seem'd, in new delight
The pleasures of the time unite, To give a triumph to their love;
They staid at last, and on the grass
Reposed so, as o'er his breast
She bow'd her gracious head to rest, Such a weight as no burthen was.
Long their fix'd eyes to heaven bent,
Unchanged, they did never move,
As if so great and pure a love No glass but it could represent.
When with a sweet and troubled look,
She first brake silence, saying, “ Dear friend,
“ O that our love might take no end 6 Or never had beginning took !