Ness.
Inevitable cause,

Met from all parts to solemnize this feast.
At once both to destroy, and be destroy'd;

Samson, with these immix'd, inevitably The edifice, where all were met to see him,

Pull'd down the same destruction on himself ; Upon their heads and on his own he pull’d. The vulgar only 'scap'd who stood without.

Mar. O lastly over-strong against thyself! Chor. O dearly-bought revenge, yet glorious! A dreadful way thou took'st to thy revenge. Living or dying thou hast fulfill d More than enough we know; but while things yet The work for which thou wast foretold Are in confusion, give us, if thou canst,

To Israel, and now ly'st victorious Ese-witness of what first or last was done,

Among thy slain self-kill'd, Relation more particular and distinct.

Not willingly, but tangled in the fold Jess. Occasions drew me early to this city; Of dire necessity, whose law in death conjoin'd And, as the gates I enter'd with sun-rise,

Thee with thy slaughter'd foes, in number more The morning trumpets festival proclaim'd

Than all thy life hath slain before. (sublime, Through each high street : little I had despatch'd, 1. Semichor. While their hearts were jocund and When all abroad was rumour'd that this day Drunk with idolatry, drunk with wine, Sarrison should be brought forth, to show the people | And fat regorg'd of bulls and goats, Proof of his mighty strength in feats and games; | Chanting their idol, and preferring I sorrow'd at his captive státe, but minded

Before our living Dread who dwells Not to be absent at that spectacle.

In Silo, his bright sanctuary :
The building was a spacious theatre

Among them he a spirit of phrenzy sent,
Half-round, on two main pillars vaulted high, Who hurt their minds,
With seats where all the lords, and each degree And urg'd them on with mad desire
Of sort, might sit in order to behold!

To call in haste for their destroyer;
The other side was open, where the throng

They, only set on sport and play,
On banks and scaffolds under sky Imight stand; Unweetingly importun'd
I'among these aloof obscurely stood.

Their own destruction to come speedy upon them.
The feast and noon grew high, and sacrifice (wine, So fond are mortal men,
Had fill'd their hearts with mirth, high cheer, and Fall'n into wrath divine,
When to their sports they turn'd. Immediately As their own ruin on themselves to invite,
Was Samson as a public servant brought

Insensate left, or to sense reprobate,
In their state livery clad; before him pipes, And with blindness internal struck.
And timbrels, on each side went armed guards, 2. Semichor. But he, though blind of sight,
Both horse and foot, before him and behind Despis'd and thought extinguish'd quite,
Archers, and slingers, cataphracts and spears. With inward eyes illuminated,
At agbt of him the people with a shout

His fiery virtue rous'd
Rifted the air, clamouring their God with praise, From under ashes into sudden flame,
Wbo had made their dreadful enemy their thrall. And as an evening dragon came,
He patient, but undaunted, where they led him, Assailant on the perched roosts
Carne to the place; and what was set before him, And nests in order rang'd
Which without help of eye might be assay'd, Of tame villatic fowl; but as an eagle
To beave, pull, draw, or break, he still perform'd His cloudless thunder bolted on their heads.
All with incredible, stupendous force;

So virtue, given for lost,
Node daring to appear antagonist.

Depress'd, and overthrown, as seem'd,
At length for interinission's sake they led him Like that self-begotten bird
Between the pillars; he his guide requested In the Arabian woods embost,
(For so from such as nearer stood we heard)

That no second knows nor third,
As over-tir'd to let him lean a while

And lay ere while a holocaust,
With both his arms on those two massy pillars, From out her ashy womb now teem'd,
That to the arched roof gave main support. Revives, reflourishes, then vigorous most
He, unsuspicious, led him; which when Samson When most unactive deem'd;
Pels in his arms, with head a while inclin'd, And, though her body die, her fame survives
And eyes fast fix'd he stood, as one who pray'd, A secular bird ages of lives.
Or some great matter in his mind revolv'd :

Man. Come, coine ; no time for lamentation now At last with head erect thus cried aloud,

Nor much more cause ; Samson hath quit himself " Hitherto, lords, what your commands impos'd Like Samson, and heroicly hath finish'd I bare perform'd, as reason was, obeying,

A life heroic, on his enemies Not without wonder or delight beheld:

Fully reveng'd, hath left them years of mourning, Now of my own accord such other trial

And lamentation to the sons of Caphtor
I mean to show you of my strength, yet greater, Through all Philistian bounds, to Israel
As with amaze shall strike all who behold.”

Honour hath left, and freedom, let but them
This utter'd, straining all his nerves he bow'd, Find courage to lay hold on this occasion ;
As with the force of winds and waters pent, To himself and father's house eternal fame;
When mountains tremble, those two massy pillars | And, which is best and happiest yet, all this
With horrible convulsion to and fro

With God not parted from him, as was fear'd, He tagg'd, he shook, till down they came and drew | But favouring and assisting to the end. The whole roof after them, with burst of thunder Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail Upon the heads of all who sat beneath,

Or knock the breast ; no weakness, no contempt, Lord, Ladies, captains, counsellors, or priests, Dispraise, or blame; nothing but well and fair, Their choice nobility and Aower, not only

And what may quiet us in a death so noble. Of this but each Philistian city round,

Let us go find the body where it lies

Soak'd in his enemies' blood; and from the stream The idle spear and shield were high up hung;
With lavers pure, and cleansing herbs, wash off The hooked chariot stood
The clotted gore. I, with what speed the while, Unstain'd with hostile blood;
(Gaza is not in plight to say us nay,)

The trumpet spake not to the armed throng ;
Will send for all my kindred, all my friends, And kings sat still with aweful eye,
To fetch him hence, and solemnly attend

As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by
With silent obsequy, and funeral train,
Home to his father's house: there will I build him | But peaceful was the night,
A monument, and plant it round with shade Wherein the Prince of light
Of laurel ever green, and branching palm,

His reign of peace upon the Earth began :
With all his trophies hung, and acts inrollid The winds, with wonder whist,
In copious legend, or sweet lyric song.

Smoothly the waters kist,
Thither shall all the valiant youth resort,

Whispering new joys to the mild ocean, And from his memory inflame their breasts

Who now hath quite forgot to rave, (wave. To matchless valour, and adventures high : While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed The virgins also shall, on feastful days, Visit his tomb with flowers; only bewailing The stars, with deep amaze, His lot unfortunate in nuptial choice,

Stand fix'd in stedfast gaze, From whence captivity and loss of eyes.

Bending one way their precious influence; Chor. All is best, though we oft doubt

And will not take their flight, What the unsearchable dispose

For all the morning light, Of highest Wisdom brings about,

Or Lucifer that often warn'd them thence; And ever best found in the close.

But in their glimmering orbs did glow, Oft be seems to hide his face,

Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go. But unexpectedly returns, And to his faithful champion hath in place

And, though the shady gloom Bore witness gloriously; whence Gaza mourns, Had given day her room, And all that band them to resist

The Sun himself withheld his wonted speed, His uncontrollable intent;

And hid his head for shame, His servants he, with new acquist

As his inferior flame Of true experience, from this great event

The new-enlighten'd world no more should need : With peace and consolation hath dismist,

| He saw a greater Sun appear

(bear. And calm of mind, all passion spent.

Than his bright throne, or burning axletree, could

The shepherds on the lawn,
Or e'er the point of dawn,

Sat simply chatting in a rustic row;
Full little thought they then,

That the mighty Pan
CHRISTMAS HYMN.

Was kindly come to live with them below;

Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep, It was the winter wild,

Was all that did their silly thoughts so busy keep. While the Heaven-born child

All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies; When such music sweet Nature in awe to him,

Their hearts and ears did greet,
Had doft'd her gaudy trim,

As never was by mortal finger strook ;
With her great Master so to sympathize : Divinely-warbled voice
It was no season then for her

Answering the stringed noise,
To wanton with the Sun, her lusty paramour.

As all their souls in blissful rapture took :
The air, such pleasure loth to lose,

(close, Only with speeches fair

With thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly She wooes the gentle air

To hide her guilty front with innocent snow; Nature that heard such sound, And on her naked shame,

Beneath the hollow round
Pollute with sinful blame,

Of Cynthia's seat, the aery region thrilling,
The saintly veil of maiden white to throw; Now was almost won
Confounded, that her Maker's eyes

To think her part was done,
Should look so near upon her foul deformities. And that her reign had here its last fulfilling;

She knew such harmony alone But he, her fears to cease,

Could hold all Heaven and Earth in happier union. Sent down the meek-ey'd Peace ;

She, crown'd with olive green, came softly sliding | At last surrounds their sight Down through the turning sphere,

A globe of circular light, His ready harbinger,

ong beams the shamefac'd night With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing; The helmed Cherubim, And, waving wide her myrtle wand,

And sworded Seraphim, She strikes an universal peace through sea and land. Are seen in glittering ranks with wings display'd,

Harping in loud and solemn quire,

(Heir. No war, or battle's sound,

With unexpressive notes, to Heaven's new-born Was heard the world around:

hat with long beams the che

Such music (as 'tis said)

| The lonely mountains o'er, Before was never made,

And the resounding shore, But when of old the sons of morning sung, A voice of weeping heard and loud lament; While the Creator great

Froin haunted spring and dale,
His constellations set,

Edg'd with poplar pale,
And the well-balanc'd world on hinges hung; The parting genius is with sighing sent;
And cast the dark foundations deep,
keep. With flower-inwoven tresses torn

mourn. And bid the weltering waves their cozy channel | The nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets

Ring out, ye crystal spheres,

In consecrated carth, Once bless our human ears,

And on the holy hearth,

(plaint; If ye have power to touch our senses so;

The Lars, and Lemures, moan with midnight And let your silver chime

In urns, and altars round, More in melodious time;

A drear and dying sound And let the base of Heaven's deep organ blow; Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint; And with your ninefold harmony,

And the chill marble seems to sweat, Make up full consort to the angelic symphony.

While each peculiar Power foregoes his wonted seat. For, if such holy song

Peor and Baälim Enwrap our fancy long,

| Forsake their temples dim, Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold; With that twice-batter'd god of Palestine ; And speckled Vanity

| And mooned Ashtaroth, will sicken soon and die,

Heaven's queen and mother both,
And leprous Sin will melt from earthly mould; Now sits not girt with taper's holy shine;
And Hell itself will pass away,

The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn, (mourn. And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day. In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz Yes, Truth and Justice then

And sullen Moloch, fled,
Will down return to men,

Hath left in shadows dread
Orb'd in a rainbow ; and, like glories wearing, His burning idol all of blackest hue;
Mercy will sit between,

In vain with cymbals' ring
Thron'd in celestial sheen,

They call the grisly king,
With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steering; In dismal dance about the furnace blue:
And Heaven, as at some festival,

The brutish gods of Nile as fast,
Will open wide the gates of her high palace hall. Isis, and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste.
But wisest Fate says no,

Nor is Osiris seen
This must not yet be so,

In Memphian grove or green,

[loud : The babe yet lies in siniling infancy,

Trampling the unshower'd grass with lowings That on the bitter cross

Nor can he be at rest Most redeem our loss;

Within his sacred chest; So both himself and us to glorify:

Nought but profoundest Hell can be his shroud; Yet first, to those ychain'd in sleep, [the deep ; ) | In vain with timbrell'd anthems dark The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through The sable-stoled sorcerers bear his worshipt ark. With such a horrid clang

He feels from Judah's land As on mount Sinai rang,

(brake: The dreaded infant's hand, While the red fire and smouldering clouds out! The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn; The aged Earth aghast

Nor all the gods beside Witte terrour of that blast,

Longer dare abide, Shall from the surface to the centre shake;

Not Typhon huge ending in snaky twine: When, at the world's last session,

throne. | Our babe, to show his Godhead true, (crew. The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread his Can in his swaddling bands controll the damned And then at last our bliss

So, when the Sun in bed,
Full and perfect is,

Curtain'd with cloudy red,
But now begins; for, from this happy day, Pillows his chin upon an orient wave,
The old Dragon, under ground

The flocking shadows pale
In straiter limits bound,

Troop to the infernal jail, Not half so far casts his usurped sway;

Each fetter'd ghost slips to his several grave; And, wToth to see his kingdom fail, | And the yellow-skirted Fayes

(maze. Swindges the scaly horrour of his folded tail. Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their moon-lov'd The oracles are dumb,

But see, the Virgin blest No voice or hideous hum

Hath laid her babe to rest ; Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Tiine is, our tedious song should here have ending: Apollo from his shrine

Heaven's youngest-teemed star Can no teore divine,

Hath fix'd her polish'd car, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. Her sleeping Lord with handmaid lamp attending. No nigtus trance, or breathed spell,

And all about the courtly stable tes the pale-ey'd priests from the prophetic cell. | Bright-harness'd angels sit in order serviccable.

EDMUND WALLER.

EDMUND Waller, born at Coleshill, Hertfordshire, Waller had a brother-in-law, named Tomkyns, in March, 1605, was the son of Robert Waller, Esq. who was clerk of the queen's council, and posa gentleman of an ancient family and good fortune, sessed great influence in the city among the warm who married a sister of the celebrated John Hamp- loyalists. On consulting together, they thought it den. The death of his father during his infancy would be possible to raise a powerful party, which left him heir to an estate of 35001. a year, at that night oblige the parliament to adopt pacific meaperiod an ample fortune. He was educated first at sures, by resisting the payment of the taxes levied Eton, whence he was removed to King's College in for the support of the war. About this time Cambridge. His election to parliament was as Sir Nicholas Crispe formed a design of more early as between his sixteenth or seventeenth year ; dangerous import, which was that of exciting the and it was not much later that he made his appear- king's friends in the city to an open resistance of ance as a poet : and it is remarkable that a copy of the authority of parliament; and for that purpose verses which he addressed to Prince Charles, in his he obtained a commission of array from his maeighteenth year, exhibits a style and character of jesty. This plan appears to have been originally versification as perfectly formed as those of his unconnected with the other; yet the commission maturest productions. He again served in par-was made known to Waller and Tomkyns, and the liament before he was of age; and he continued his whole was compounded into a horrid and dreadful services to a later period. Not insensible of the plot. Waller and Tomkyns were apprehended, value of wealth, he augmented his paternal fortune when the pusillanimity of the former disclosed the by marriage with a rich city heiress. In the long whole secret. “ He was so confounded with fear," intermissions of parliament which occurred after (says Lord Clarendon,) « that he confessed what1628, he retired to his mansion of Beaconsfield, ever he had heard, said, thought, or seen, all that where he continued his classical studies, under the he knew of himself, and all that he suspected of direction of his kinsman Morley, afterwards bishop | others, without concealing any person, of what deof Winchester ; and he obtained admission to a gree or quality soever, or any discourse which he society of able men and polite scholars, of whom had ever upon any occasion entertained with them." Lord Falkland was the connecting medium.

The conclusion of this business was, that Tomkyns, Waller became a widower at the age of twenty- and Chaloner, another conspirator, were hanged, five; he did not, however, spend much time in and that Waller was expelled the House, tried, and mourning, but declared himself the suitor of condemned; but after a year's imprisonment, and a Lady Dorothea Sydney, eldest daughter of the fine of ten thousand pounds, was suffered to go Earl of Leicester, whom he has immortalized under into exile. He chose Rouen for his first place of the poetical name of Saccharissa. She is described foreign exile, where he lived with his wife till his by him as a majestic and scornful beauty ; and he removal to Paris. In that capital he maintained seems to delight more in her contrast, the gentler the appearance of a man of fortune, and enterAmoret, who is supposed to have been a Lady So tained hospitably, supporting this style of living phia Murray. Neither of these ladies, however, chiefly by the sale of his wife's jewels. At length, was won by his poetic strains; and, like another after the lapse of ten years, being reduced to what man, he consoled himself in a second marriage. he called his rump jewel, he thought it time to ap

When the king's necessities compelled him, in ply for permission to return to his own country. 1640, once more to apply to the representatives of He obtained this licence, and was also restored to the people, Waller, who was returned for Ag- lis estate, though now diminished to half its former mondesham, decidedly took part with the members rental. Here he fixed his abode, at a house built who thought that the redress of grievances should by himself, at Beaconsfield; and he renewed his precede a vote for supplies; and he made an ener- courtly strains by adulation to Cromwell, now getic speech on the occasion. He continued during Protector, to whom his mother was related. To three years to vote in general with the Opposition this usurper the noblest tribute of his muse was in the Long Parliament, but did not enter into all paid. their measures. In particular, he employed much When Charles II. was restored to the crown, cool argument against the proposal for the abolition and past character was lightly regarded, the stains of Episcopacy; and he spoke with freedom and of that of Waller were forgotten, and his wit and severity against some other plans of the House. poetry procured him notice at court, and admission In fact, he was at length become a zealous loyalist to the highest circles. He had also sufficient inin his' inclinations, and his conduct under the dif-terest to obtain a seat in the House of Commons, ficulties into which this attachment involved him in all the parliaments of that reign. The king's became a source of his indelible disgrace. A short gracious manners emboldened him to ask for the narrative will suffice for the elucidation of this vacant place of provost of Eton college, which was matter.

granted him; but Lord Clarendon, then Lord Chancellor, refused to set the seal to the grant, which men of gaiety terminate their career. He alledging that by the statutes laymen were excluded died at Beaconsfield in October, 1687, the 83d year from that provostship. This was thought the rea- of his age. He left several children by his second son why Waller joined the Duke of Buckingham, wife, of whom, the inheritor of his estate, Edmund, in his hostility against Clarendon.

after representing Agmondesham in parliament, On the accession of James II., Waller, then in became a convert to quakerism. his 80th year, was chosen representative for Saltash. Waller was one of the earliest poets who obHaving now considerably passed the usual limit of tained reputation by the sweetness and sonorousness human life, he turned his thoughts to devotion, and of his strains; and there are perhaps few masters at composed some divine poems, the usual task in the present day who surpass him in this particular.

Unto that adored dame :
For 'tis not unlike the same,
Which I thither ought to send.
So that if it could take end,
'Twould to Heaven itself be due,
To succeed her, and not you :
Who already have of me
All that's not idolatry :
Which, though not so fierce a flame,
Is longer like to be the same.

Then smile on me, and I will prove
Wonder is shorter-liv'd than love.

TO AMORET.
Fars! that you may truly know,
What you unto Thyrsis owe;
I will tell you how I do
Sacharissa love, and you.

Jos salutes me, when I set
My blest eyes on Amoret :
But with wonder I am strook,
While I on the other look.

If sweet Amoret complains,
I have sense of all her pains :
But for Sacharissa I
Do not only grieve, but die

All that of myself is mine,
Lovely Amoret! is thine,
Sacharissa's captive fain
Would untie his iron chain;
And, those scorching beams to shun
To the gentle shadow run.

If the soul had free election
To dispose of her atfection;
I would not thus long have borne
Haughty Sacharissa's scorn :
But 'tis sure some power above,
Which controls our wills in love!

If not a love, a strong desire
To create and spread that fire
In my breast, solicits me,
Beauteous Amoret! for thec.

'Tis amazement more than love,
Which her radiant eyes do move :
If less splendour wait on thine,
Yet they so benignly shine,
I would turn my dazzled sight
To behold their milder light.
But as hard 'tis to destroy
That high filame, as to enjoy:
Which bow eas'ly I may do,
Heaven (as eas'ly scal'd) does know!

Amoret! as sweet and good
As the most delicious food,
Which, but tasted, does impart
Life and glariness to the heart.

Sacharissa's beauty's wine,
Which so madness doth incline :
Such a liquor, as no brain
That is mortal can sustain.

Scarct can I to Heaven excuse
The devotion, which I use

TO AMORET.
AMORET, the Milky Way,

Fram'd of many nameless stars !
The smooth stream, where none can say,

He this drop to that prefers !
Amoret, my lovely foe!

Tell me where thy strength does lie?
Where the power that charms us so ?

In thy soul, or in thy eye?

By that snowy neck alone,

Or thy grace in motion seen,
No such wonders could be done ;

Yet thy waist is straight, and clean,
As Cupid's shaft, or Hermes' rod :
And powerful too, as either god.

OF LOVE.
Anger, in hasty words, or blows,
Itself discharges on our foes ;
And sorrow too finds some relief
In tears, which wait upon our grief :
So every passion but fond love,
Unto its own redress does move :
But that alone the wretch inclines
To what prevents his own designs ;
Makes him lament, and sigh, and weep,
Disorder'd, tremble, fawn, and creep;
Postures which render him despis’d,
Where he endeavours to be priz'd :