278 DRYDEN. 



Waller, who had also made himself conspicuous as a 

 volunteer Antony to the country squire turned Caesar, 



(&quot; With ermine clad and purple, let him hold 

 A royal sceptre made of Spanish gold,&quot;) 



was more servile than Dryden in hailing t 1 .e return of ex 

 officio Majesty. He bewails to Charles, in muffling heroics, 



&quot; Our sorrow and our &amp;lt; , ime 

 To have accepted life so long a time, 

 With out you here.&quot; 



A weak man, put to the test by rough and angry times, 

 as Waller was, may be pitied, but meanness is nothing but 

 contemptible under any circumstances. If it be true that 

 &quot;every conqueror creates a Muse,&quot; Cromwell was un 

 fortunate. Even Milton s sonnet, though dignified, is 

 reserved if not distrustful. Marvell s &quot;Horatian Ode,&quot; the 

 most truly classic in our language, is worthy of its theme. 

 The same poet s Elegy, in parts noble, and everywhere 

 humanly tender, is worth more than all Carlyle s biography 

 as a witness to the gentler qualities of the hero, and of the 

 deep affection that stalwart nature could inspire in hearts 

 of truly masculine temper. As it is little known, a few 

 verses of it may be quoted to show the difference between 

 grief that thinks of its object and grief that thinks of its 

 rhymes : 



&quot; Yalour, religion, friendship, prudence died 

 At once with him, and all that s good beside, 

 And we, death s refuse, nature s dregs, confined 

 To loathsome life, alas ! are left behind. 

 Where we (so once we used) shall now no more, 

 To fetch day, press about his chamber-door, 

 No more shall hear that powerful language charm, 

 Whose force oft spared the labour of his arm, 

 No more shall follow where he spent the days 

 In war or counsel, or in prayer and praise. 



I saw him dead ; a leaden slumber lies, 

 And mortal sleep, over those wakeful eyes ; 



