As that prematurely wise young sceptic Paul Dombey declared, when a modern-antique Legend was proffered to him, “I don’t believe that story!” It is frightfully devoid of ærugo, even of æruca. It may do for South Devon, and for Aylesbury farmers over their “beer and bacca,” but not for us. The true Mosse found his genuine mare veritably “napping” (not dead), up a real tree.
In John Taylor’s “A Swarme of Sectaries and Schismatiqves,” 1641, his motto is (concerning Sam Howe lecturing from a tub),
The Cobler preaches and his Audience are
As wise as Mosse was, when he caught his Mare.
Part II., page 89. Cheer up, my mates, &c.
(See Appendix to Westm. Droll., p. lxii.) The author of this frollicsome ditty was no other than Abraham Cowley (1618-67), dear to all who know his choice “Essays in Prose and Verse,” his unlaboured letters, the best of his smaller poems, or the story of his stainless life and gentleness. It is that noble thinker and poet, Walter Savage Landor, who writes, and in his finest mood:—
Time has been
When Cowley shone near Milton, nay, above!
An age roll’d on before a keener sight