The Lives of the Most Famous English Poets (1687) by William Winstanley

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Do Toyes divulge----

The other carried on in the latter part of the Distick.

----Still add to what they hear,
And of a Mole-hill do a Mountain rear.

But his Travels were not only painful, but profitable, living piously,
and by that means having the blessing of God attending on his
endeavours, making a holy use of his viewing those sacred places which
he saw _Jerusalem_; Take an instance upon his sight of that place where
the three wise men of the _East_ offered their Oblations to our
Saviour.

Three Kings to th'King of Kings three gifts did bring,
Gold, Incense, Myrrh, as Man, as God, as King;
Three holy gifts be likewise given by thee
To _Christ_, even such as acceptable be;
For Myrhah, Tears; for Frankincense impart
Submissive Prayers; for pure Gold, a pure Heart.

He most elegantly translated _Ovid_ his _Metamorphosis_ into English
Verse, so that as the Soul of _Aristotle_ was said to have transfigured
into _Thomas Aquinas_, so might _Ovid_'s Genius be said to have passed
into Mr. _Sandys_, rendring it to the full heighth, line for line with
the Latin, together with most excellent Annotations upon each Fable.
But his Genius directed him most to divine subjects, writing a
Paraphrase on the Book of _Job_, _Psalms_, _Ecclesiastes_, _Canticles_,
&c. as also a divine Tragedy on _Christs Passion_. He lived to be a
very aged man, having a youthful Soul in a decayed Body, and died about
the year 1641.

* * * * *

Sir _JOHN SUCKLING_.

Sir _John Suckling_, in his time, the delight of the Court and darling
of the Muses, was one so filled with _Phoebean_ fire, as for excellency
of his wit, was worthy to be Crowned with a Wreath of Stars, though
some attribute the strength of his lines to favour more of the Grape
than the Lamp; Indeed he made it his Recreation, not his Study, and did
not so much seek fame as it was put upon him: In my mind he gives the
best Character of himself in those Verses of his in the _Sessions of
the Poets_:

_Suckling_ next was call'd, but did not appear,
But strait one whisper'd _Apollo_ i'th'ear,
That of all men living he cared not for't,
He lov'd not the Muses so well as his sport.

And prized black eyes, or a lucky hit
At Bowles, above all the Trophies of wit.
But _Apollo_ was angry, and publickly said,
Twere fit that a fine were set upon's head.

Besides his Poems, he wrote three Plays, the _Goblins_ a Comedy,
_Brenovalt_ a Tragedy, and _Aglaura_ a Tragi-Comedy. He was a loyal
person to his Prince, and in that great defection of Scotch Loyalty in
1639. freely gave the King a hundred Horses. And for his Poems, I shall
conclude with what the Author of his Epistle to the Reader saies of
them, _It had been a Prejudice to posterity, and an_ _injury to his own
Ashes, should they have slept in Oblivion._

* * * * *

Mr. _WILLIAM HABINGTON_.

He was one of a quick wit and fluent language, whose Poems coming forth
above thirty years ago, under the Title of _Castara_, gained a general
fame and estimation, and no wonder, since that human Goddess by him so
celebrated, was a person of such rare endowments as was worthy the
praises bestowed upon her, being a person of Honour as well as Beauty,
to which was joyned a vertuous mind, to make her in all respects
compleat. He also wrote the History of the Reign of King _Edward_ the
Fourth, and that in a style sufficiently florid, yet not altogether
pleasing the ear, but as much informing the mind, so that we may say of
that Kings Reign, as Mr. _Daniel_ saith in his Preface to his History
of _England, That there was never brought together more of the main_.
He also wrote a Tragi-Comedy, called, _the Queen of_ Arragon, which as
having never seen, I can give no great account of it.

* * * * *

Mr. _FRANCIS QUARLES_.

_Francis Quarles_, son to _James Quarles_, Esq; was born at _Stewards_
at the Parish of _Rumford_, in the County of _Essex_, and was bred up
in the University of _Cambridge_, where he became intimately acquainted
with Mr. _Edward Benlowes_, and Mr. _Phineas Fletcher_, that Divine
Poet and Philosopher, on whose most excellent Poem of the _Purple
Island_, hear these Verses of Mr. _Quarles_, which if they be as
delightful to you in the reading, as to me in the writing, I question
not but they will give you content.

Mans _Body's_ like a _House_, his greater _Bones_
Are the main _Timber_; and the lesser ones
Are smaller _splints_: his _ribs_ are _laths_ daub'd o're
Plaister'd with _flesh_ and _blood_: his _mouth's_ the door,
His _throat's_ the narrow _entry_, and his _heart_
Is the great _Chamber_, full of curious art:
His _midriff_ is a large _Partition-wall_
'Twixt the great _Chamber_, and the spacious _Hall_:
His _stomach_ is the _Kitchin_, where the meat
Is often but half sod for want of heat:
His _Spleen's_ a _vessel_ Nature does allot
To take the _skum_ that rises from the Pot:
His _lungs_ are like the _bellows_, that respire
In every _Office_, quickning every fire:
His _Nose_ the _Chimny_ is, whereby are vented
Such _fumes_ as with the _bellowes_ are augmented:
His _bowels_ are the _sink_, whose part's to drein
All noisom _filth_, and keep the _Kitchin_ clean:
His _eyes_ are Christal _windows_, clear and bright;
Let in the object and let out the sight.
And as the _Timber_ is or great, or small,
Or strong, or weak, 'tis apt to stand or fall:
Yet is the likeliest _Building_ sometimes known
To fall by obvious chances; overthrown
Oft times by _tempests_, by the full mouth'd _blasts_
Of _Heaven_; sometimes by _fire_; sometimes it wafts
Through unadvis'd _neglect_: put case the stuff
Were ruin-proof, by nature strong enough
To conquer time, and age; put case it should
Nere know an end, alas, our _Leases_ would;
What hast thou then, _proud flesh and blood_, to boast
Thy daies are evil, at best; but few, at most;
But sad, at merriest; and but weak, at strongest;
Unsure, at surest; and but short, at longest.

He afterwards went over into _Ireland_, where he became Secretary to
the Reverend _James Usher_, Arch-bishop of _Armagh_: one suitable to
his disposition, having a Genius byassed to Devotion; Here at leisure
times did he exercise himself in those ravishing delights of Poetry,
but (alwaies with the _Psalmist_) his _heart was inditing a good
matter_; these in time produced those excellent works of his, _viz._
his Histories of _Jonas_, _Esther_, _Job_, and _Sampson_; his _Sions
Songs_ and _Sions Elegies_, also his _Euchyridion_, all of them of such
a heavenly strain, as if he had drank of _Jordan_ instead of _Helicon_,
and slept on Mount _Olivet_ for his _Pernassus_. He had also other
excursions into the delightful walks of Poetry, namely, his _Argulus_
and _Parthenia_, a Science (as he himself saith) taken out of Sir
_Philip Sidney's_ Orchard, likewise his _Epigrams_, _Shepherds
Oracles_, Elegies on several persons, his _Hierogliphicks_, but
especially his _Emblems_, wherein he hath _Out-Alciated Alcialus_
himself. There hath been also acted a Comedy of his called, _The Virgin
Widdow_, which passed with no ordinary applause. But afterwards the
Rebellion breaking forth in _Ireland_ (where his losses were very
great) he was forced to come over; and being a true Loyalist to his
Soveraign, was again plundred of his Estate here, but what he took most
to heart (for as for his other losses he practiced the patience of
_Job_ he had described) was his being plundred of his Books, and some
rare Manuscripts which he intended for the Press, the loss of which, as
it is thought, facilitated his death, which happned about the year of
our Lord, 1643. to whose memory one dedicated these lines by way of
Epitaph.

To them that understand themselves so well,
As what, and who lies here, to ask, I'll tell,
What I conceive Envy dare not deny,
Far both from falshood, and from flattery.

Here drawn to Land by Death, doth lie
A Vessel fitter for the Skie,
Than _Jason's Argo_, though in _Greece_
They say, it brought the Golden Fleece.
The skilful Pilot steered it so,
Hither and thither, too and fro.
Through all the Seas of Poverty,
Whether they far or near do lie,
And fraught it so with all the wealth
Of wit and learning, not by stealth,
Or privacy, but perchance got
That this whole lower World could not
Richer Commodities, or more
Afford to add unto his store.
To Heaven then with an intent
Of new Discoveries, he went
And left his Vessel here to rest,
Till his return shall make it blest.
The Bill of Lading he that looks
To know, may find it in his Books.

* * * * *

Mr. _PHINEAS FLETCHER_.

This learned person, Son and Brother to two ingenious Poets, himself
the third, not second to either, was son to _Giles Fletcher_, Doctor in
Law, and Embassadour from Queen _Elizabeth_ to _Theodor Juanowick_ Duke
of _Muscovia_; who though a Tyranick Prince, whose will was his Law,
yet setled with him very good Terms for our Merchants trading thither.
He was also brother to two worthy Poets, _viz._ _George Fletcher_, the
Author of a Poem, entituled, _Christs Victory and Triumph over and
after Death_; and _Giles Fletcher_, who wrote a worthy Poem, entituled,
_Christs Victory_, made by him being but Batchelor of Arts, discovering
the piety of a Saint, and divinity of a Doctor. This our _Phineus
Fletcher_ was Fellow of _Kings Colledge_ in _Cambridge_, and in Poetick
fame exceeded his two Brothers, in that never enough to be celebrated
Poem, entituled, _The Purple Island_, of which to give my Reader a
taste (who perhaps hath never seen the Book) I shall here add two
Stanza's of it.

Thrice happy was the worlds first infancy,
Nor knowing yet, nor curious ill to know:
Joy without grief, love without jealousie:
None felt hard labour, or the sweating Plough:
The willing earth brought tribute to her King:
_Bacchus_ unborn lay hidden in the cling
Of big swollen Grapes; their drink was every silver spring.

And in another place, speaking of the vanity of ambitious Covetousness.

Vain men, too fondly wise, who plough the Seas,
With dangerous pains another earth to find:
Adding new Worlds to th'old, and scorning ease,
The earths vast limits daily more unbind!
The aged World, though now it falling shows,
And hasts to set, yet still in dying grows,
Whole lives are spent to win, what one Deaths hour must lose.

Besides this _Purple Island_, he wrote divers _Piscatorie Eclogues_,
and other _Poetical Miscelanies_, also a Piscatory Comedy called
_Sicelides_, which was acted at _Kings-Colledge_ in _Cambridge_.

* * * * *

Mr. _GEORGE HERBERT_.

This divine Poet and person was a younger brother of the Noble Family
of the _Herberts_ of _Montgomery_, whose florid wit, obliging humour in
conversation, fluent Elocution, and great proficiency in the Arts,
gained him that reputation at _Oxford_, where he spent his more
youthful Age, that he was chosen University Orator, a place which
required one of able parts to Mannage it; at last, taking upon him Holy
Orders, not without special Encouragement from the King, who took
notice of his extraordinary Parts, he was made Parson of _Bemmerton_
near _Salisbury_, where he led a Seraphick life, converting his Studies
altogether to serious and Divine Subjects; which in time produced those
his so generally known and approved Poems entituled, _The Temple_.

Whose Vocal notes tun'd to a heavenly Lyre,
Both learned and unlearned all admire.

I shall only add out of his Book an Anagram, which he made on the name
of the Virgin _Mary_.

M A R Y.
A R M Y.

And well her name an Army doth present,
In whom the Lord of Hosts did pitch his Tent.

* * * * *

Mr. _RICHARD CRASHAW_.

This devout Poet, the Darling of the _Muses_, whose delight was the
fruitful Mount _Sion_, more than the barren Mount _Pernassus_, was
Fellow first of _Pembrook-Hall_, after of St. _Peters-Colledge_ in
_Cambridge_; a religious pourer forth of his divine Raptures and
Meditations, in smooth and pathetick Verse. His Poems consist of three
parts, the first entituled, _Steps to the Temple_, being for the most
part Epigrams upon several passages of the New Testament, charming the
ear with a holy Rapture. The Second part, _The delights of the Muses_,
or Poems upon several occasions, both English and Latin; such rich
pregnant Fancies as shewed his Breast to be filled with _Phoebean_
Fire. The third and last part _Carmen Deo nostro_, being Hymns and
other sacred Poems, dedicated to the Countess of _Denbigh_, all which
bespeak him,

The learned Author of Immortal Strains.

He was much given to a religious Solitude, and love of a recluse Life,
which made him spend much of his time, and even lodge many Nights under
_Tertullian's_ roof of Angels, in St. _Mary's_ Church in _Cambridge_.
But turning _Roman Catholick_, he betook himself to, that so zealously
frequented place, _Our Lady's of Lorretto in Italy_; where for some
years he spent his time in Divine Contemplations, being a Canon of that
Church, where he dyed.

* * * * *

Mr. _WILLIAM CARTWRIGHT_.

Mr. _William Cartwright_ a Student of _Christ Church_ in _Oxford_,
where he lived in Fame and Reputation, for his singular Parts and
Ingenuity; being none of the least of _Apollo's_ Sons; for his
excelling vein in Poetry, which produc'd a Volume of Poems, publisht
not long after his Death, and usher'd into the World by Commendatory
Verses of the choicest Wits at that time; enough to have made a Volume
of it self: So much was he reverenced by the Lovers of the Muses. He
wrote, besides his Poems, _The Ordinary_, a Comedy; the _Royal Slave_,
_Lady Errant_, and _The Seige, Or, Loves Convert_, Tragi-Comedies.

* * * * *

Sir _ASTON COCKAIN_.

Sir _Aston Cockain_ laies Claim to a place in our Book, being remembred
to Posterity by four Plays which he wrote, _viz._ _The Obstinate Lady_,
a Comedy; _Trapolin supposed a Prince_, _Tyrannical Government_,
Tragi-Comedies; and _Thersites_ an Interlude.

* * * * *

_Sir JOHN DAVIS_.

This worthy Knight, to whom Posterity is indebted for his learned
Works, was well beloved of Queen _Elizabeth_, and in great Favour with
King _James_. His younger Years he addicted to the study of Poetry,
which produced two excellent Poems, _Nosce Teipsum_, and _Ochestra_:
Works which speak themselves their own Commendations: He also wrote a
judicious Metaphrase on several of _David's_ Psalms, which first made
him known at Court: afterwards addicting himself to the Study of the
Common-Law of _England_; he was first made the Kings Serjeant, and
after his Attorney-General in _Ireland_.

* * * * *

_THOMAS MAY_.

_Thomas May_ was one in his time highly esteemed, not only for
his Translation of _Virgils Georgicks_ and _Lucans Pharsalia_ into
English, but what he hath written _Propria Minerva_, as his Supplement
to _Lucan_, till the Death of _Julius Caesar_: His History of _Henry_
the Second in Verse; besides what he wrote of Dramatick, as his
Tragedies of _Antigone_, _Agrippina_, and _Cleopatra_; _The Heir_, a
Tragi-Comedy; _The Old Couple_, and _the Old Wives Tale_, Comedies; and
the History of _Orlando Furioso_; of these his Tragi-Comedy of _The
Heir_ is done to the life, both for Plot and _Language_; and good had
it been for his Memory to Posterity, if he had left off Writing here;
but taking disgust at Court for being frustrated in his Expectation of
being the Queens Poet, for which he stood Candidate with Sir _William
Davenant_, who was preferred before him, out of meer Spleen, as it is
thought for his Repulse, he vented his Spite in his History of the late
Civil Wars of _England_; wherein he shews all the Spleen of a
Male-contented Poet, making thereby his Friends his Foes, and rendring
his Fame odious to Posterity; such is the Nature of Malice, that as the
Poet saith,

Impoison'd with the Drugs of cruel Hate,
Draw on themselves an unavoided Fate.

* * * * *

_CHARLES ALEYN_.

_Charles Aleyn_ was one and that no despicable Poet, as may be seen by
his Works, which still live in Fame and Reputation, writing in Heroick
verse the Life of King _Henry_ the Seventh, with the Battle of
_Bosworth_; and also the Battle of _Crescy_ and _Poietiers_, in which
he is very pithy and sententious: I shall only give you two instances,
the first out of his Battle of _Crescy_.

They swell with love who are with valour fill'd,
And _Venus_ Doves may in a Head-piece build.

The other out of his History of King _Henry_ the Seventh.

Man and Money a mutual Falshood show,
Man makes false Mony, Mony makes man so.

* * * * *

_GEORGE WITHERS_.

_George Withers_ was one who loved to Fish in troubled Waters, being
never more quiet then when in Trouble, of a restless Spirit, and
contradicting Disposition; gaining more by Restraint then others could
get by their Freedom, which his ungoverned (not to say worse) Pen often
brought him unto, so that the _Marshalsea_ and _Newgate_ were no
Strangers unto him. He was born in _Hantshire_ (if it be every whit the
more honour to the County for his Birth) a prodigious Pourer forth of
Rhime, which he spued from his Maw, as _Tom Coriat_ formerly used to
spue _Greek_, and that with a great pretence to a Poetical Zeal,
against the Vices of the Times; which he mightily exclaim'd against in
his _Abuses Stript and Whipt_, his _Motto_, _Brittains Remembrancer_,
&c. with other Satyrical Works of the like nature: He turn'd also into
_English_ Verse the Songs of _Moses_, and other Hymns of the Old
Testament; besides these he wrote a Poem called _Philaret_, the
_Shepherds Hunting_, his _Emblems_, _Campo Musae_, _Opo-Balsamum_, the
_Two Pitchers_, and others more then a good many, had not his Muse been
more Loyal than it was; he was living about the Year 1664. when I saw
him, and suppose he lived not long after.

* * * * *

_ROBERT HERRIC_.

_Robert Herric_ one of the Scholars of _Apollo_ of the middle Form, yet
something above _George Withers_, in a pretty Flowry and Pastoral Gale
of Fancy, in a vernal Prospect of some Hill, Cave, Rock, or Fountain;
which but for the Interruption of other trivial Passages, might have
made up none of the worst Poetick Landskips. Take a view of his Poetry
in his Errata to the Reader in these lines.

For these Errata's, Reader thou do'st see,
Blame thou the Printer for them, and not me:
Who gave him forth good Grain, tho he mistook,
And so did sow these Tares throughout my Book.

I account him in Fame much of the same rank, as he was of the same
Standing, with one _Robert Heath_, the Author of a Poem, Entituled,
_Clarastella_, the ascribed Title of that Celebrated Lady, who is
supposed to have been both the Inspirer and chief Subject of them.

* * * * *

_JOHN TAYLOR_ the Water-Poet.

Some perhaps may think this Person unworthy to be ranked amongst those
Sons of _Apollo_ whom we mentioned before; but to them we shall answer,
That had he had Learning according to his natural Parts, he might have
equal'd, if not exceeded, many who claim a great share in the Temple of
the Muses. Indeed, for ought I can understand, he never learned no
further then his _Accidence_, as we may learn from his own Words in one
of his Books.

I must confess I do want Eloquence,
And never Scarce did learn my _Accidence_;
For having got from _Possum_ to _Posset;_
I there was gravel'd, could no further get.

He was born in _Glocester-shire_, where he went to School with one
_Green_; who, as _John Taylor_ saith, loved new Milk so well, that to
be sure to have it new, he went to the Market to buy a Cow; but his
Eyes being Dim, he cheapned a Bull, and asking the price of the Beast,
the Owner and he agreed; and driving it home, would have his Maid to
Milk it, which she attempting to do, could find no Teats: and whilst
the Maid and her Master were arguing the matter, the Bull very fairly
pist into the Pail; whereupon his Scholar _John Taylor_ wrote these
Verses.

Our Master _Green_ was over-seen
In buying of a Bull,
For when the Maid did mean to milk,
He pist the Pail half full.

He was afterwards bound Apprentice to a Waterman of _London_, a
Laborious Trade: and yet though it be said, that _Ease is the Nurse of
Poetry_, yet did he not only follow his Calling, but also plyed his
Writings, which in time produced above fourscore Books, which I have
seen; besides several others unknown to me; some of which were
dedicated to King _James_, and King _Charles_ the First, and by them
well accepted, considering the meanness of his Education to produce
works of Ingenuity. He afterwards kept a Publick House in _Phoenix
Alley_ by _Long-Acre_ continuing very constant in his Loyalty to the
King, upon whose doleful Murther he set up the Sign of the _Mourning
Crown_; but that being counted Malignant in those times of Rebellion,
he pulled down that, and hung up his own Picture, under which were writ
these two lines.

There's many a King's Head hang'd up for a Sign,
And many a Saint's Head too, then why not Mine?

He dyed about the Year 1654. upon whom one bestowed this Epitaph.

Here lies the Water-Poet, honest _John_,
Who rowed on the Streams of _Helicon_;
Where having many Rocks and dangers past,
He at the Haven of Heaven arriv'd at last.

* * * * *

_THOMAS RAWLINS_.

_Thomas Rawlins_ my old Friend, chief Graver of the Mint to King
_Charles_ the First, as also to King _Charles_ the Second till the Year
1670. in which he died. He was an Excellent Artist, perhaps better then
a Poet, yet was he the Author of a Tragedy called _The Rebellion_,
which hath been acted not without good Applause; besides some other
small things which he wrote.

* * * * *

_Mr. THOMAS CAREW_.

This learned Gentleman Mr. _Carew_, one of the Bed-Chamber to King
_Charles_ the First, was in his time reckoned among the chiefest for
delicacy of wit and Poetick Fancy, which gained him a high Reputation
amongst the most ingenious persons of that Age. He was a great
acquaintance of Mr. _Thomas May_, whom none can deny to be an able
Poet, although Discontent made him warp his Genius contrary to his
natural Fancy, in commentation of whose Tradi-Comedy called _The Heir_,
Mr. _Carew_ wrote an excellent paper of Verses. His Books of Poems do
still maintain their fame amongst the Curious of the present age.

* * * * *

Col. _RICHARD LOVELACE_.

I can compare no Man so like this Colonel _Lovelace_ as Sir _Philip
Sidney_, of which latter it is said by one in an Epitaph made of him,

Nor is it fit that more I should acquaint,
Lest Men adore in one
A Scholar, Souldier, Lover, and a Saint.

As for their parallel, they were both of noble Parentage, Sir _Philips_
Father being Lord Deputy of _Ireland_, and President of _Wales_; our
Colonel of a Vicount's name and Family; Scholars none can deny them
both: The one Celebrated his Mistress under the bright name of
_Stella_, the other the Lady Regent of his Affections, under the Banner
of _Lucasta_, both of them endued with transcendent Sparks of Poetick
Fire, and both of them exposing their Lives to the extreamest hazard of
doubtful War; both of them such Soldiers as is expressed by the Poet.

Undaunted Spirits, that encounter those
Sad dangers, we to Fancy scarce propose.

To conclude, Mr. _Lovelace's_ Poems did, do, and still will live in
good Esteem with all knowing true Lovers of Ingenuity.

* * * * *

_ALEXANDER BROOME_.

_Alexander Broome_ our English _Anacreon_, was an Attorney in the Lord
Mayors Court; who besides his practice in Law, addicted himself to a
Jovial strain in the ravishing Delights of Poetry; being the ingenious
Author of most of those Songs, which on the Royalists account came
forth during the time of the _Rump_, and _Oliver's_ Usurpation; and
were sung so often by the Sons of Mirth and _Bacchus_, and plaid to by
the sprightly Violin. Take for a tast a verse of one of his Songs.

Come, come, let us drink,
'Tis in vain to think,
Like fools, on grief or Sadness;
Let our Money fly,
And our Sorrows die,
_All worldly care is Madness_:
But Sack and good Chear,
Will in spight of our fear,
Inspire our Souls with Gladness.

I shall only add his Poem which he made on the great Cryer at
_Westminster-Hall_, by which you may judge of his Abilities in Poetry.

When the Great Cryer in that greater Room,
Calls _Faunt-le-roy_, and _Alexander Broome_,
The people wonder (as those heretofore,
When the Dumb spoke) to hear a Cryer Roar.
The kitling Crue of Cryers that do stand
With _Eunuchs_ voices, squeaking on each hand,
Do signifie no more, compar'd to him,
Then Member _Allen_ did to Patriot _Pim_.
Those make us laugh, while we do him adore;
Their's are but _Pistol_, his Mouths _Cannon-Bore_.
Now those same thirsty Spirits that endeavor,
To have their names enlarg'd, and last for ever,
Must be Attorneys of this Court, and so
His voice shall like Fame's loudest Trumpet blow
Their names about the world, and make them last,
While we can lend an Ear, or he a Blast.

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