not only of the stirring period in which he lived,
but of the peculiar circumstances into which he was thrown
at different epochs of his life. Lovelace had not the melodious
and exquisite taste of Herrick, the wit of Suckling, or the power
of Randolph (so often second only to his master Jonson).
Mr. Singer has praised the exuberant fancy of Lovelace; but,
in my thinking, Lovelace was inferior in fancy, as well as in
grace, both to Carew and the author of HESPERIDES. Yet Lovelace
has left behind him one or two things, which I doubt if any of
those writers could have produced, and which our greatest poets
would not have been ashamed to own. Winstanley was so far right in
instituting a comparison between Lovelace and Sydney, that it is
hard to name any one in the entire circle of early English
literature except Sydney and Wither, who could have attempted, with
any chance of success, the SONG TO ALTHEA FROM PRISON; and how
differently Sydney at least would have handled it! We know what
Herrick would have made of it; it would have furnished the theme
for one more invocation to Julia. From Suckling we should have had
a bantering playfulness, or a fescennine gaiety, equally unsuited
to the subject. Waller had once an opportunity of realizing the
position, which has been described by his contemporary in immortal
stanzas; but Waller, when he was under confinement, was thinking
too much of his neck to write verses with much felicity, and
preferred waiting, till he got back to Beaconsfield (when his
inspiration had evaporated), to pour out his feelings to Lady
Dorothy or Lady Sophia. Wither's song, "Shall I wasting in
Despair," is certainly superior to the SONG TO ALTHEA. Wither was
frequently equal to Lovelace in poetical imagery and sentiment, and
he far excelled him in versification. The versification of
Lovelace is indeed more rugged and unmusical than that of any other
writer of the period, and this blemish is so conspicuous throughout
LUCASTA, and is noticeable in so many cases, where it might have
been avoided with very little trouble, that we are naturally led to
the inference that Lovelace, in writing, accepted from indolence or
haste, the first word which happened to occur to his mind. Daniel,
Drayton, and others were, it is well known, indefatigable revisers
of their poems; they "added and altered many times," mostly
for the better, occasionally for the worse. We can scarcely
picture to ourselves Lovelace bl