Mess. Inevitable cause, At once both to destroy, and be destroy'd; The edifice, where all were met to see him, Upon their heads and on his own he pull'd. Man. O lastly over-strong against thyself! A dreadful way thou took'st to thy revenge. More than enough we know; but while things yet Are in confusion, give us, if thou canst, Eye-witness of what first or last was done, Relation more particular and distinct. : Mess. Occasions drew me early to this city; The feast and noon grew high, and sacrifice [wine, At length for intermission's sake they led him I mean to show you of my strength, yet greater, He tagg'd, he shook, till down they came and drew Met from all parts to solemnize this feast. Chor. O dearly-bought revenge, yet glorious! Living or dying thou hast fulfill'd The work for which thou wast foretold Not willingly, but tangled in the fold 1. Semichor. While their hearts were jocund and And urg'd them on with mad desire Their own destruction to come speedy upon them. Fall'n into wrath divine, As their own ruin on themselves to invite, 2. Semichor. But he, though blind of sight, From under ashes into sudden flame, Of tame villatic fowl; but as an eagle Depress'd, and overthrown, as seem'd, In the Arabian woods embost, And, though her body die, her fame survives Man. Come, come; no time for lamentation now Fully reveng'd, hath left them years of mourning, Soak'd in his enemies' blood; and from the stream Home to his father's house: there will I build him Chor. All is best, though we oft doubt What the unsearchable dispose But unexpectedly returns, And to his faithful champion hath in place Bore witness gloriously; whence Gaza mourns, His servants he, with new acquist Of true experience, from this great event CHRISTMAS HYMN. It was the winter wild, All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies; Nature in awe to him, Had doff'd her gaudy trim, With her great Master so to sympathize: It was no season then for her To wanton with the Sun, her lusty paramour. Only with speeches fair She wooes the gentle air To hide her guilty front with innocent snow; And on her naked shame, Pollute with sinful blame, The saintly veil of maiden white to throw ; Confounded, that her Maker's eyes Should look so near upon her foul deformities. But he, her fears to cease, Sent down the meek-ey'd Peace; She, crown'd with olive green, came softly sliding At last surrounds their sight For, if such holy song Enwrap our fancy long, Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold; And speckled Vanity Will sicken soon and die, And leprous Sin will melt from earthly mould; And Hell itself will pass away, And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day. Yea, Truth and Justice then Will down return to men, Orb'd in a rainbow; and, like glories wearing, Mercy will sit between, Thron'd in celestial sheen, With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steering; And Heaven, as at some festival, Will open wide the gates of her high palace hall. The lonely mountains o'er, And the resounding shore, A voice of weeping heard and loud lament; From haunted spring and dale, Edg'd with poplar pale, The parting genius is with sighing sent; With flower-inwoven tresses torn [mourn. The nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets In consecrated carth, And on the holy hearth, [plaint; The Lars, and Lemures, moan with midnight In urns, and altars round, A drear and dying sound Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint ; And the chill marble seems to sweat, While each peculiar Power foregoes his wonted seat. Nought but profoundest Hell can be his shroud; He feels from Judah's land The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn; Longer dare abide, [crew. Not Typhon huge ending in snaky twine: Our babe, to show his Godhead true, Can in his swaddling bands controll the damned But see, the Virgin blest Hath laid her babe to rest; Time is, our tedious song should here have ending: Heaven's youngest-teemed star Hath fix'd her polish'd car, Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attending, And all about the courtly stable Bright-harness'd angels sit in order serviccable. EDMUND WALLER. : EDMUND WALLER, born at Coleshill, Hertfordshire, in March, 1605, was the son of Robert Waller, Esq. a gentleman of an ancient family and good fortune, who married a sister of the celebrated John Hampden. The death of his father during his infancy left him heir to an estate of 35001. a year, at that period an ample fortune. He was educated first at Eton, whence he was removed to King's College in Cambridge. His election to parliament was as early as between his sixteenth or seventeenth year; and it was not much later that he made his appearance as a poet and it is remarkable that a copy of verses which he addressed to Prince Charles, in his eighteenth year, exhibits a style and character of versification as perfectly formed as those of his maturest productions. He again served in parliament before he was of age; and he continued his services to a later period. Not insensible of the value of wealth, he augmented his paternal fortune by marriage with a rich city heiress. In the long intermissions of parliament which occurred after 1628, he retired to his mansion of Beaconsfield, where he continued his classical studies, under the direction of his kinsman Morley, afterwards bishop of Winchester; and he obtained admission to a society of able men and polite scholars, of whom Lord Falkland was the connecting medium. Waller became a widower at the age of twentyfive; he did not, however, spend much time in mourning, but declared himself the suitor of Lady Dorothea Sydney, eldest daughter of the Earl of Leicester, whom he has immortalized under the poetical name of Saccharissa. She is described by him as a majestic and scornful beauty; and he seems to delight more in her contrast, the gentler Amoret, who is supposed to have been a Lady Sophia Murray. Neither of these ladies, however, was won by his poetic strains; and, like another man, he consoled himself in a second marriage. When the king's necessities compelled him, in 1640, once more to apply to the representatives of the people, Waller, who was returned for Agmondesham, decidedly took part with the members who thought that the redress of grievances should precede a vote for supplies; and he made an energetic speech on the occasion. He continued during three years to vote in general with the Opposition in the Long Parliament, but did not enter into all their measures. In particular, he employed much cool argument against the proposal for the abolition of Episcopacy; and he spoke with freedom and severity against some other plans of the House. In fact, he was at length become a zealous loyalist in his inclinations; and his conduct under the difficulties into which this attachment involved him became a source of his indelible disgrace. A short narrative will suffice for the elucidation of this matter. Waller had a brother-in-law, named Tomkyns, who was clerk of the queen's council, and possessed great influence in the city among the warm loyalists. On consulting together, they thought it would be possible to raise a powerful party, which might oblige the parliament to adopt pacific measures, by resisting the payment of the taxes levied for the support of the war. About this time Sir Nicholas Crispe formed a design of more dangerous import, which was that of exciting the king's friends in the city to an open resistance of the authority of parliament; and for that purpose he obtained a commission of array from his majesty. This plan appears to have been originally unconnected with the other; yet the commission was made known to Waller and Tomkyns, and the whole was compounded into a horrid and dreadful plot. Waller and Tomkyns were apprehended, when the pusillanimity of the former disclosed the whole secret. "He was so confounded with fear," (says Lord Clarendon,)" that he confessed whatever he had heard, said, thought, or seen, all that he knew of himself, and all that he suspected of others, without concealing any person, of what degree or quality soever, or any discourse which he had ever upon any occasion entertained with them." The conclusion of this business was, that Tomkyns, and Chaloner, another conspirator, were hanged, and that Waller was expelled the House, tried, and condemned; but after a year's imprisonment, and a fine of ten thousand pounds, was suffered to go into exile. He chose Rouen for his first place of foreign exile, where he lived with his wife till his removal to Paris. In that capital he maintained the appearance of a man of fortune, and entertained hospitably, supporting this style of living chiefly by the sale of his wife's jewels. At length, after the lapse of ten years, being reduced to what he called his rump jewel, he thought it time to apply for permission to return to his own country. He obtained this licence, and was also restored to his estate, though now diminished to half its former rental. Here he fixed his abode, at a house built by himself, at Beaconsfield; and he renewed his courtly strains by adulation to Cromwell, now Protector, to whom his mother was related. To this usurper the noblest tribute of his muse was paid. When Charles II. was restored to the crown, and past character was lightly regarded, the stains of that of Waller were forgotten, and his wit and poetry procured him notice at court, and admission to the highest circles. He had also sufficient interest to obtain a seat in the House of Commons, in all the parliaments of that reign. The king's gracious manners emboldened him to ask for the vacant place of provost of Eton college, which was granted him; but Lord Clarendon, then Lord Chancellor, refused to set the seal to the grant, | which men of gaiety terminate their career. alledging that by the statutes laymen were excluded from that provostship. This was thought the reason why Waller joined the Duke of Buckingham, in his hostility against Clarendon. On the accession of James II., Waller, then in his 80th year, was chosen representative for Saltash. Having now considerably passed the usual limit of human life, he turned his thoughts to devotion, and composed some divine poems, the usual task in He died at Beaconsfield in October, 1687, the 83d year of his age. He left several children by his second wife, of whom, the inheritor of his estate, Edmund, after representing Agmondesham in parliament, became a convert to quakerism. Waller was one of the earliest poets who obtained reputation by the sweetness and sonorousness of his strains; and there are perhaps few masters at the present day who surpass him in this particular. TO AMORET. FAIR! that you may truly know, What you unto Thyrsis owe; If sweet Amoret complains, And, those scorching beams to shun If the soul had free election 'Tis amazement more than love, Scarce can I to Heaven excuse Unto that adored dame: Which, though not so fierce a flame, Then smile on me, and I will prove TO AMORET. AMORET, the Milky Way, Fram'd of many nameless stars! Amoret, my lovely foe! Tell me where thy strength does lie? By that snowy neck alone, Or thy grace in motion seen, Yet thy waist is straight, and clean, OF LOVE. ANGER, in hasty words, or blows, |