ALL CHANGETH. THE angry winds not aye Do cuff the roaring deep; And though heavens often weep, Yet do they smile for joy, when comes dismay; Frosts do not ever kill the pleasant flow'rs; And love hath sweets, when gone are all the sours." This said a Shepherd, closing in his arms His Dear; who blush'd to feel love's new alarms! Drummond of Hawthornden. 191 As the second volume of this series of our Amatory Poetry extends to LIVING CHARACTERS, perhaps two or three preliminary observations will not be considered superfluous. Contemporary biography, however restricted as to its limits, is necessarily subject to many difficulties. Facts are not always attainable, and, when known, not hastily to be divulged. Often has it been found expedient to acquiesce in the decision of Dr. Johnson, who, when delineating the transactions of persons with whom he had been acquainted, thought it better to state nothing that he suspected to be false, than to affirm all that he believed to be true. |