Similarly noticeable is Beaumont's faculty for 'simple poetic phrasing.' The elevated passion, the sudden glory,—and the large utterance of brief sentence and single verse, have been remarked by critics from his contemporary, John Earle, who wrote in commendation:
Such strength, such sweetness couched in every line,
Such life of fancy, such high choice of brain,
down to G. C. Macaulay, Herford, and Alden of the present day. No reader, even the most cursory, can fail to be impressed by the completeness of that one line (in his lament for Elizabeth Sidney),
Sorrow can make a verse without a Muse,—
by the 'unassuming beauty' of Viola's loneliness (in his subplot of The Coxcombe),
All things have cast me from 'em but the earth.
The evening comes, and every little flower
Droops now as well as I;—
by the sublimity of those few words to the repentant lover,
All the forgiveness I can make you is to love you;—
by the superb simplicity of Bellario's scorn of life, in Philaster,
'T is but a piece of childhood thrown away,