Could separate and see them far apart.
(Hellenics, edit. 1859, p. 258.)
Yet while we yield unquestioningly the higher rank as Poet to John Milton, we hold the generous nature of his rival, Cowley, in more loving regard. He was not of the massive build in mind, or stern unflinching resolution needed for such times as those wherein his lot was cast. When the weakest goes to the wall, amid universal disturbance and selfish warring for supremacy, his was not the strong arm to beat back encroachment. Gentle, affectionate, and truthful, exceptionally pure and single-minded, although living as Queen Henrietta’s secretary in her French Court, where impurity of thought and lightness of conduct were scarcely visited with censure, the uncongenial scenes and company around him help to enhance the charm of his mild disposition. Heartless wits might lampoon him, stealthy foes defame him, lest he should gain one favour or reward that they were hankering after. To us he remains the lover of the “Old Patrician trees,” the friend of Crashaw and of Evelyn, the writer of the most delightful essays and familiar letters: alas! too few.
The “Song” in Westminster-Drollery, ii. 89, set by Pelham Humphrey, is the opening verse of Cowley’s “Ode: Sitting and Drinking in the Chair made out of the Reliques of Sir Francis Drake’s Ship.” [The chair was presented to the University Library, Oxford.]
Corrections: dull men are those who tarry; and spy too. Three verses follow. Of these we add the earliest, leaving uncopied the others, of 21 and 18 lines. They are to be found on p. 9 of Cowley’s “Verses written on Several Occasions,” folio ed., 1668. The idea of the shipwreck “in the wide Sea of Drink” had been early welcomed by him, and treated largely, Feb. 1638-9, in his Naufragium Joculare.
2.
What do I mean: What thoughts do me misguide?
As well upon a staff may Witches ride
Their fancy’d Journies in the Ayr,