BE VIEWS — BOTHWELL. 



54,3 



And swore in verse and fulsome rhyme, 

 That never since the birth of time, 



Was sueh an angel seen ? 

 Each morn and eve, her mirror gave 



Their wretched words the lie ; 

 And though she fain would have believed, 



She could not elose her eye. 



John Knox is dealt with in like manner, in a piece that reads not 

 unlike an anti-sabbatariau Westminster Eeview article turned into 

 verse ! W^ith such history we could have pardoned a pretty free use 

 of the poet's license. But to return to the hero of the poem : the 

 wild career of Both well is familiar to the student of Scottish story, 

 and is not without materials for the poet's pen. Its close is nearly 

 coeval with that of Mary's royalty and freedom ; and with a poetic 

 justice rare in actual history, the remaining years of her betrayer's 

 life were passed in a Danish dungeon, where, listeniug to the moaning 

 voices of the lonely sea, and preyed on alike by the tortures of un- 

 gratified ambition and remorse, he at length died a raving maniac. 

 The poet lays his scene in this Danish fortress of Malrnoe, in the lone 

 dungeon of which he presents Bothwell as his own biographer, wail- 

 ing forth in bitter retrospect the strange romance in which he acted 

 so prominent a part. In giving form to this, the author must be 

 acredited with the somewhat rare merit among modern poets, of ac- 

 tually saying what he means, in sober intelligible verse, nor once in- 

 dulging in hidden meanings, such as elude the unreflective reader — 

 still less in the mysticism and metaphysical subtleties of poetics, 

 which not only leave all readers in doubt of what is meant, but 

 a good many in greater doubt whether they ever had a meaning 

 known to writer or reader! The author of " Both well" has, more- 

 over, as in duty bound, kept steadily free from all spasmodic exuber- 

 ance of fancy. Perhaps it may be thought by some that he even 

 verges on the opposite extreme of insipidity and common place. 



The following opening scene, representing the captive writhing in 

 his dungeon, within sound alike of the Christmas revels of his jailors, 

 and the wild swoop of the wind and wave on the northern sea, is well 

 designed for awakening the sympathy of the reader, and may be ac- 

 cepted as one of the most vigorous passages in the whole poem ; 



Cold— cold! The wind howls fierce without: 



It drives the sleet and snow ; 

 With thundering hurl, the angry sea 



Smites on the crags below. 

 Each wave that leaps against the rock 



Makes this old prison reel — 



