Nature has her brave ones, who for her despise
the masks of glory dear to the vulgar throng.
'Tis thus, O Adrian, with holy visions
thou comfortest the souls of fellow-men.
'Tis thus, O artist, with thy blows severe
thou putt'st in stone the ages' ancient hope,
the lofty hope that cries, "Oh, when shall labor
be happy, and faithful love secure from harm?
"When shall a mighty nation of freemen
say in the face of the sun, 'Shine no more
on the idle ease and the selfish wars of tyrants,
but on the pious justice of labor?'"
THOMAS CAREW
(1598?-1639)
homas Carew is deservedly placed among the most brilliant representatives of a class of lyrists who were not only courtiers but men of rank; who, varied in accomplishments, possessing culture and taste, expressed their play of fancy with elegance and ease. The lyre of these aristocratic poets had for its notes only love and beauty, disdain, despair, and love's bounty, sometimes frivolous in sound and sometimes serious; and their work may be regarded as the ancestor of the vers de société, which has reached its perfection in Locker and Austin Dobson. To Carew's lyrics we may apply Izaak Walton's famous criticism: "They were old-fashioned poetry, but choicely good."