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WILLIAM DRUMMOND,

Of Hawthornden, son to Sir John Drummond, was born in

1585; educated at the High School and University, Edinburgh; studied the civil law in France from 1606 to 1610, after which he retired to his romantic and beautiful residence on the banks of the Eske, where he employed him. self in reading the Greek and Roman authors, and composing his “ Cypress Grove” (an eloquent rhapsody, written after a severe fit of sickness) and his “ Flowres of Sion.” Having formed an attachment to a lady of the name of Cunningham, of an ancient family and extreinely beautiful, he had the mortification of losing her by a fever, after the day of marriage had been appointed. To this he alludes in most of his subsequent poems, and to divert his grief he forsook his retirement and studies, and travelled for eight years through Germany, France, and Italy, visiting the Universities, conversing with learned men, and forming a valuable collection of books, ancient and modern, many of which he presented on his return to the College of Edinburgh, as may be seen by the curious catalogue printed in 1627, 4to. Finding Scotland on the cre of a civil war, he again withdrew into retirement, and composed his prose history of the five James's. When he was forty-five years of age, he fell in love with the daughter of Sir Robert Logan, of Restalrig, from her supposed resemblance to his former mistress, and married her, by whom he had several children. For the remainder of his life he continued to reside at Hawthornden, much esteemed by the learned, and in habits of correspondence with Drayton and B. Jonson; the latter of whom walked into

Scotland in 1619 for the purpose of seeing him, and passed some time at his house. The heads of their conversation are recorded by our poet. Being warmly attached to the cause of Charles I. he was much harassed by the pre. vailing party, and employed a part of his leisure in composing political reflections on the distracted state of his country, the true interests of which, as a real patriot, he had always earnestly at heart. He died in 1649. Drummond was a man of many and various accomplishments; he is said to have spoken Italian, French, and Spanish, as well as his mother-tongue; and to have been not unskilled in the amusements of dancing, singing, and playing on the lute: besides which he excelled in the mathematics, mechanics especially, restoring ancient, and discovering original contrivances, of naval, military, and civil utility. For his poetical character, the reader is referred to Mr. Headley and Mr. Pinkerton, the latter of whom considers him, and justly, as the next of all the Scotish poets after Dunbar. His “ Poems" appeared in 4to. Edin. 1616; his “ Flowres of Sion,” 4to. Edin. 163G: and both are contained, though with considerable variations in the text, in the 8vo. edition, London, 1050, which was published by Edward Phillips, the nephew of Milton, under the direction of Drummond's brother-inlaw, Sir John Scot of Scotstarvat. The collection of all his works, printed by Watson, with a good life by bishop Sage, Edinburgh, 1711, folio, is also esteemed ; but a correct and classical edition of this charming poet is much wanted, and, as it is said, may be expected from Dr.

Robert Anderson, In the following extracts the text of ed. 1657 has been fol.

lowed, as giving, in all probability, the last corrections of the author; but for the satisfaction of the curious reader the variations of the original edition are subjoined.

SONG.

Phoebus arise,
And paint the sable skies
With azure, white, and red !
Rouse Memnon's mother from her Tithon's bed,
That she thy career may with roses spread !
The nightingales thy coming each-where sing:
Make an eternal spring:
Give life to this dark world which lieth dead !
Spread forth thy golden hair
In larger locks than thou wast wont before,
And, emperor-like, decore
With diadem of pearl thy temples fair!
Chase hence the ugly night,
Which serves but to make dear thy glorious light,

This is the morn should bring unto this grove
My Love, to hear, and recompense my love!
Fair king, who all preserves,
But shew thy blushing beams;
And thou two sweeter eyes
Shall see, than those which by Penéus' streams
Did once thy heart surprize.

Now Flora deck thyself in fairest guise !

If that ye, Winds, would hear
A voice surpassing far Amphion's lyre,
Your furious' chiding stay!
Let Zephyr only breathe,
And with her tresses play.

The winds all silent are
And Phoebus in his chair,
Ensaffroning sea and air,
Makes vanish every star.
Night, like a drunkard, reels
Beyond the hills, to shun his flaming wheels.
The fields with flowers are deck'd in every hue,
The clouds with orient gold spangle a their blue ;
Here is the pleasant place,
And nothing wanting is, save she, alas! 3

SONNET.

SLEEP, Silence' child, sweet father of soft Rest,

Prince, whose approach peace to all mortals brings.

Indifferent host to shepherds and to kings ; Sole comforter of minds which are 4 opprest! 16.stormy." +"bespangle with bright gold.”

" every thing save her who all should grace." 4" with grief."

Lo! by thy charming rod all breathing things

Lie slumbering, with forgetfulness possest; And yet o’er me to spread thy drowsy wings

Thou spar’st,' alas ! who cannot be thy guest. Since I am thine, oh, come! but with that face

To inward light which thou art wont to show,

With feigned solace ease a true-felt wo! Or if, deaf god, thou do deny that grace,

Come as thou wilt, and what thou wilt bequeath! I long to kiss the image of my death.

SONNET.

[To his lute.]

My lute, be as thou wert, 2 when thou did 3 grow

With thy green mother in some shady grove,

When immelodious winds but made thee move, And birds their ramage did on thee 4 bestow. Sinces that dear voice which did thy sounds approve,

Which wont in such harmonious strains to flow, Is reft from earth to tune those spheres above,

What art thou but a harbinger of wo?
Thy pleasing notes be pleasing notes no more,

But orphan's 7 wailings to the fainting ear, 16 spares." + c wast." 3 « didst." 4" on thee their ramage did."

SC Sith.” 6 « us'd."

7" orphan,"

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