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Or on the wealth of globed peonies;
Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,
Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave,

And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.

She dwells with Beauty-Beauty that must die;
And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,
Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips.
Ay, in the very temple of Delight

Veiled Melancholy has her sovran shrine,

Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue

Can burst Joy's grapes against his palate fine; His soul shall taste the sadness of her might, And be among her cloudy trophies hung.

HARTLEY COLERIDGE

1796-1849

SHE IS NOT FAIR

SHE is not fair to outward view
As many maidens be;

Her loveliness I never knew

Until she smiled on me.

O then I saw her eye was bright,
A well of love, a spring of light.

But now her looks are coy and cold,
To mine they ne'er reply,
And yet I cease not to behold

The love-light in her eye:

Her very frowns are fairer far

Than smiles of other maidens are.

NOTES

EPITHALAMION.-Page 3.

WRITTEN by Spenser on his marriage in Ireland, in 1594, with Elizabeth Boyle of Kilcoran, who survived him, married one Roger Seckerstone, and was again a widow. Dr. Grosart seems to have finally decided the identity of the heroine of this great poem. It is worth while to explain, once for all, that I do not use the accented e for the longer pronunciation of the past participle. The accent is not an English sign, and, to my mind, disfigures the verse; neither do I think it necessary to cut off the e with an apostrophe when the participle is shortened. The reader knows at a glance how the word is to be numbered; besides, he may have his preferences where choice is allowed. In reading such a line as Tennyson's

'Dear as remembered kisses after death,

one man likes the familiar sound of the word 'remembered' as we all speak it now; another takes pleasure in the four light syllables filling the line so full. Tennyson uses the apostrophe as a rule, but neither he nor any other author is quite consistent.

ROSALYND'S MADRIGAL.-Page 21.

It may please the reader to think that this frolic, rich, and delicate singer was Shakespeare's very Rosalind. From Dr. Thomas Lodge's novel, Euphues' Golden Legacy, was taken much of the story, with some of the characters, and some few of the passages, of As You Like It.

ROSALINE.-Page 22.

This splendid poem (from the same romance), written on the poet's voyage to the Islands of Terceras and the Canaries, has the fire and freshness of the south and the sea; all its colours are clear. The reader's ear will at once teach him to read the sigh 'heigh ho' so as to give the first syllable the time of two (long and short).

FAREWELL TO ARMS.-Page 25.

George Peele's four fine stanzas (which must be mentioned as dedicated to Queen Elizabeth, but are better without that dedication) exist

in another form, in the first person, and with some archaisms smoothed. But the third person seems to be far more touching, the old man himself having done with verse.

THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD.-Page 28.

The sixth stanza is perhaps by Izaak Walton.

TAKE, O TAKE THOSE LIPS AWAY.-Page 44.

The author of this exquisite song is by no means certain. The second stanza is not with the first in Shakespeare, but it is in Beaumont and Fletcher.

KIND ARE HER ANSWERS.-Page 46.

These verses are a more subtle experiment in metre by the musician and poet, Campion, than even the following, Laura, which he himself sweetly commended as 'voluble, and fit to express any amorous conceit.' In Kind are her Answers the long syllables and the trochaic movement of the short lines meet the contrary movement of the rest, with an exquisite effect of flux and reflux. The 'dancers' whose time they sang must have danced (with Perdita) like a wave of the sea.'

DIRGE.-Page 44.

I have followed the usual practice in omitting the last and less beautiful stanza.

FOLLOW.-Page 49.

Campion's 'airs,' for which he wrote his words, laid rules too urgent upon what would have been a delicate genius in poetry. The airs demanded so many stanzas; but they gave his imagination leave to be away, and they depressed and even confused his metrical play, hurting thus the two vital spots of poetry. Many of the stanzas for music make an unlucky repeating pattern with the poor variety that a repeating wall-paper does not attempt. And yet Campion began again and again with the onset of a true poet. Take, for example, the poem beginning with the vitality of this line, 'touching in its majesty'—

'Awake, thou spring of speaking grace; mute rest becomes not thee!'

Who would have guessed that the piece was to close in a jogging stanza containing a reflection on the fact that brutes are speechless, with these two final lines

'If speech be then the best of graces,

Doe it not in slumber smother!'

Campion yields a curious collection of beautiful first lines.

'Sleep, angry beauty, sleep and fear not me'

is far finer than anything that follows. So is there a single gloom in this

'Follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow!'

And a single joy in this

'Oh, what unhoped-for sweet supply!'

Another solitary line is one that by its splendour proves Campion the author of Cherry Ripe

'A thousand cherubim fly in her looks.'

And yet a thousand cherubim' is a line of a poem full of the dullest kind of reasoning-curious matter for music-and of the intricate knotting of what is a very simple thread of thought. It was therefore no easy matter to choose something of Campion's for a collection of the finest work. For an historical book of representative poetry the question would be easy enough, for there Campion should appear by his glorious lyric, Cherry Ripe, by one or two poems of profounder imagination (however imperfect), and by a madrigal written for the music (however the stanzas may flag in their quibbling). But the work of choosing among his lyrics for the sake of beauty shows too clearly the inequality, the brevity of the inspiration, and the poet's absolute disregard of the moment of its flight and departure. A few splendid lines may be reason enough for extracting a short poem, but must not be made to bear too great a burden.

WHEN THOU MUST HOME.-Page 50.

Of the quality of this imaginative lyric there is no doubt. It is fine throughout, as we confess even after the greatness of the opening :—

'When thou must home to shades of underground,

And there arrived, a new admired guest—'

It is as solemn and fantastic at the close as at this dark and splendid opening, and throughout, past description, Elizabethan. This single poem must bind Campion to that period without question; and as he lived thirty-six years in the actual reign of Elizabeth, and printed his Book of Airs with Rosseter two years before her death, it is by no violence that we give him the name that covers our earlier poets of the great age. When thou must Home is of the day of Marlowe. It has the qualities of great poetry, and especially the quality of keeping its simplicity; and it has a quality of great simplicity not at all child-like, but adult, large, gay, credulous, tragic, sombre, and

amorous.

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