O fear ye no assaults from bolder men; When they assail, be this your armour then. A silken helmet may defend those parts, JOHN CLEVELAND was born at Henkley, Leicestershire, in 1613. His father being rector of the parish, and also a man of sound learning, the future poet's early studies were carefully attended to at home, supervised by an able teacher connected with the grammar-school of the place. When well prepared, he was sent to Christ's College, Cambridge, where he soon became distinguished for both talents and learning. As an orator especially, he was unrivalled; and such was his general popularity, that as soon as he had taken his degrees he was elected to a fellowship in St. John's College. Cleveland continued at the university about nine years, the delight and ornament of the college to which he belonged, and during that time he became as eminent as a poet as he was as an orator. Upon the breaking out of the civil war, he espoused the royal cause with all the ardor of his nature, in consequence of which, as soon as the reins of power passed into the hands of the parliamentary party, he was ejected from his fellowship, and turned upon the world. He now repaired to Oxford, the head-quarters of the king, and there employed his talents in the composition of those severe and biting satires which rendered him, at the time, the delight of his party, and the terror of their foes. From Oxford, Cleveland, on invitation of Sir Richard Willis, governor of Newark, removed to that city, and there was immediately elevated to the office of Judge-advocate—a situation which he continued to fill till Newark was, by the king's order, surrendered to the parliament. In 1655, he was seized at Norwich and cast into prison, being a person of great ability, and so able to do the greater disservice.' He remained in prison for some time, enduring all the wretchedness that poverty and destitution could inflict; but at length becoming exhausted from his sufferings, he petitioned Cromwell for his release in terms so pathetic and moving, that the heart of the Protector was melted, and he set him at liberty. Cleveland now repaired to London to resume his literary pursuits, but he died soon after, on the fourteenth of April, 1658, and was buried in the church of St. Michael in that city. Besides his strong and caustic satires, which were the chief source of his popularity while living, and which Butler afterward partially imitated in his 'Hudibras,' Cleveland wrote some love verses containing morsels of genuine poetry, amid a mass of affected metaphors and fancies. He carried gal lantry to an extent bordering on the ridiculous, making all nature--sun and shade-do homage to his mistress. To illustrate this remark we need only present the following lines:-- ON PHILLIS, WALKING BEFORE SUNRISE. The sluggish morn as yet undress'd, My Phillis brake from out her rest, To chirp their matins; and the fan Of whistling winds, like organs play'd Unto their voluntaries, made The waken'd earth in odours rise To be her morning sacrifice; The flowers, call'd out of their beds, Start and raise up their drowsy heads; These miracles had cramp'd the sun, The trembling leaves through which he play'd, Dappling the walk with light and shade, (Like lattice windows) give the spy Room but to peep with half an eye, Lest her full orb his sight should dim, And bid us all good night in him: To force us a new-fashion'd day. But what new-fashion'd palsy 's this, Which makes the boughs divest their bliss ? And that they might her footsteps straw, Drop their leaves with shivering awe; Should wed October into May, Withdrew her beams, yet made no night, But left the sun her curate light. RICHARD LOVELACE was the son of Sir William Lovelace, and was born at Woolridge, Kent, in 1618. He was educated at Oxford, and Wood describes him, at the age of sixteen, 'as the most amiable and beautiful person that eye ever beheld; a person also of innate modesty, virtue, and courtly deportment, which made him then, but especially after, when he retired to the great city, much admired and adored by the female sex.' Soon after Lovelace had completed his studies he was introduced at court, and being thus personally distinguished, and a royalist in principle, he was chosen by the county of Kent to deliver a petition to the House of Commons, praying that the king might be restored to his rights, and the government settled. The 'Long Parliament' was then in the ascendant, and Lovelace was thrown into prison for his temerity. He was eventually liberated on heavy bail, and soon after spent the balance of his fortune in fruitless efforts to succour the royal cause. Lovelace afterward obtained the command of a regiment in the French army, but being wounded at Dunkirk, he relinquished his command, and in 1648 returned to England. He had, however, scarcely reached his native shore before he was apprehended and again cast into prison; and seeing no prospect of a second retrieve, he beguiled the time of his imprisonment by collecting and arranging his poems for publication. They appeared in 1649, under the title of Lucastra: Odes, Sonnets, and Songs. The general title was bestowed upon them on account of the 'lady of his love,' Lucy Sackeverell, whom he usually called Lux Castra. This attachment proved, in the event, unfortunate; for the lady, hearing that Lovelace died of his wounds at Dunkirk, married another man. From this time the course of the poet was downward. The dominant party did, indeed, release his person, when the death of the king had left them the lers to fear from their opponents; but Lovelace was now penniless, and the reputation of a broken cavalier was no passport to better circumstances. Oppressed with want and melancholy, he gradually sunk into a consumption, and finally died in a miserable alley near Shore Lane, London, in 1658,-a death presenting a striking contrast to the gay and splendid scenes of his youth. The poetry of Lovelace, like his life, was very unequal. There is a spirit and nobleness in some of his verses and sentiments, that charms the reader as much as his gallant bearing and fine person captivated the fair. His genius was exalted, but his taste was perverted by the affected wit and ridiculous gallantry of the day. That he knew, however, how to appreciate true taste and nature, may be seen from the following lines on Lely's por trait of Charles the First : See what an humble bravery doth shine, And grief triumphant breaking through each line, So sacred a contempt that others show To this (o'. the height of all the wheel) below; Lovelace's lighter poems bear a strong resemblance to those of Herrick, though they are less buoyant in spirit, and less natural in imagery and fancy. From these poems we select the following addresses, both of which are certainly very beautiful : TO LUCASTA, ON GOING TO THE WARS. Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, And with a stronger faith embrace Yet this inconstancy is such, I could not love thee, dear, so much, TO ALTHEA, FROM PRISON. When love with unconfined wings The birds that wanton in the air, When flowing cups run swiftly round With no allaying Thames, Our careless heads with roses crown'd, When thirsty grief in wine we steep, When healths and draughts go free, Fishes that tipple in the deep, Know no such liberty. When linnet-like, confined, I With shriller note shall sing The mercy, sweetness, majesty, When I shall voice aloud how good He is, how great should be, Th' enlarged winds that curl the flood, Know no such liberty. Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds, innocent and quiet, take Angels alone, that soar above, RICHARD CRASHAW was the son of William Crashaw, an eminent preacher at the Temple Church, London; but the time of his birth is unknown. He received the early part of his education at the 'Charter House' near London, and thence passed to Pembroke Hall, Cambridge, whence, after a brief period, he entered Peter House College, of which he was soon after chosen a fellow. When the parliamentary party gained the ascendency in the university, he was, with many others, ejected from his fellowship; and being of an enthusiastic disposition he lived for several years in St. Mary's Church, near Peter House, engaged, chiefly, in religious offices and writing devotional poetry; and 'like a primitive saint, offering more prayers by night, than others usually offer in the day. Foreseeing, as he supposed, that the church of England would be subverted, Crashaw removed to France and became a proselyte to the Roman Catholic faith; and soon after, through the friendship of Cowley, he obtained the notice of queen Henrietta Maria, who was at that time in Paris, and who recommended him to the dignitaries of the church in Italy. He there became secretary to one of the cardinals, and a canon of the church of Loretto. In this situation he died about 1650, and when intelligence of the event reached England, Cowley honored his memory with-- The meed of a melodious tear. Crashaw was a very accomplished scholar, and his translations from the Latin and the Italian languages possess great freedom, force, and beauty. He translated part of the Sospetto d'Herode from the Italian of Merino; and passages from his version are not unworthy of even Milton. He thus describes the abode of Satan : Below the bottom of the great abyss, There, where one centre reconciles all things, His corresponding cheeks: these loathsome strings * Fain would he have forgot what fatal strings He shook himself and spread his spacious wings, |