he was a Christian gentleman, a noble and pureminded man, of highest purposes and aims. His style is injured by the artistic falsehood of producing antique effects in the midst of modern feeling. It was scarcely more justifiable, for instance, in Spenser's time than it would be in ours to use glitterand for glittering; or to return to a large use of alliteration, three, four, sometimes even five words in the same line beginning with the same consonant sound. Everything should look like what it is: prose or verse should be written in the language of its own era. No doubt the wide-spreading roots of poetry gather to it more variety of expression than prose can employ; and the very nature of verse will make it free of times and seasons, harmonizing many opposites. Hence, through its mediation, without discord, many fine old words, by the loss of which the language has grown poorer and feebler, might be honourably enticed to return even into our prose. But nothing ought to be brought back because it is old. That it is out of use is a presumptive argument that it ought to remain out of use: good reasons must be at hand to support its reappearance. must not, however, enlarge upon this wide-reaching question; for of the two portions of Spenser's verse which I shall quote, one of them is not at all, the other not so much as his great poem, affected with this whim. I 1 The first poem he wrote, a very fine one, The Shepheard's Calender, is so full of old and provincial words, that the educated people of his own time required a glossary to assist them in the reading of it. SPENSER'S LOVE POEMS. 65 The first I give is a sonnet, one of eighty-eight which he wrote to his wife before their marriage. Apparently disappointed in early youth, he did not fall in love again,—at least there is no sign of it that I know, till he was middle-aged. But thenwoman was never more grandly wooed than was his Elizabeth. I know of no marriage-present worthy to be compared with the Epithalamion which he gave her "in lieu of many ornaments,”—one of the most stately, melodious, and tender poems in the world, I fully believe. But now for the sonnet-the sixty-eighth of the Amoretti: Most glorious Lord of Life! that, on this day, This joyous day, dear Lord, with joy begin; And that thy love we weighing worthily, May likewise love thee for the same again; So let us love, dear love, like as we ought: Those who have never felt the need of the divine, entering by the channel of will and choice and prayer, for the upholding, purifying, and glorifying of that which itself first created human, will consider this poem untrue, having its origin in religious affectation. Others will think otherwise. F S. L. IV. The greater part of what I shall next quote is tolerably known even to those who have made little study of our earlier literature, yet it may not be omitted here. It is from An Hymne of Heavenly Love, consisting of forty-one stanzas, written in what was called Rime Royal-a favourite with Milton, and, next to the Spenserian, in my opinion the finest of stanzas. Its construction will reveal itself. I take two stanzas from the beginning of the hymn, then one from the heart of it, and the rest from the close. It gives no feeling of an outburst of song, but rather of a brooding chant, most quiet in virtue of the depth of its thoughtfulness. Indeed, all his rhythm is like the melodies of water, and I could quote at least three passages in which he speaks of rhythmic movements and watery progressions together. His thoughts, and hence his words, flow like a full, peaceful stream, diffuse, with plenteousness unrestrained. 1 AN HYMN OF HEAVENLY LOVE. Before this world's great frame, in which all things 1 About that mighty bound which doth embrace The rolling spheres, and parts their hours by space, In all these things, moved in itself by love. It loved itself, because itself was fair, For fair is loved; and of itself begot Eternal, pure, and void of sinful blot, Eyas is a young hawk, whose wings are not fully fledged. HYMN OF HEAVENLY LOVE. The firstling of his joy, in whom no jot O blessed well of love! O flower of grace! O glorious Morning-Star! O Lamp of Light! Most lively image of thy Father's face! Eternal King of Glory, Lord of might! humble. Meek Lamb of God, before all worlds behight! promised. How can we thee requite for all this good? Or what can prize that thy most precious blood? equal in value. Yet nought thou ask'st in lieu of all this love Had he required life of2 us again, Had it been wrong to ask his own with gain? He gave us life, he it restored lost; Then life were least, that us so little cost. But he our life hath left unto us free Free that was thrall, and blessed that was banned; enslaved: Nor aught demands but that we loving be, As he himself hath loved us aforehand, 1 "What less than that is fitting?" 2 For, even in Collier's edition, but certainly a blunder. 3 Was, in the editions; clearly wrong. [cursed. Him first to love great right and reason is, Us wretches from the second death did save; Then next, to love our brethren that were made And were they not, yet since that loving Lord Even for his sake, and for his sacred word, Which in his last bequest he to us spake, the same grave [room. as. share [their needs. We should them love, and with their needs partake; Such mercy he by his most holy rede Unto us taught, and to approve it true, Ensampled it by his most righteous deed, Shewing us mercy, miserable crew! That we the like should to the wretches2 shew, And love our brethren,; thereby to approve How much himself that loved us we love. Then rouse thyself, O earth! out of thy soil, 1 "Of the same mould and hand as we." instruction. 2 There was no contempt in the use of this word then. defile. |