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ANDREW MARVELL.

Born 1620—Died 1678.

Andrew Marvell is little known as a poet, but the poetry which he left, according to Mr. Campbell, is worthy of higher consideration than has been bestowed upon it. He lived in the time of Oliver Cromwell, and was a sincere republican, but he held a seat in the British parliament after the restoration of the Stuarts, and is remarkable for the independence and honesty with which he avowed his sentiments. He had visited foreign countries, had studied and meditated much: thus his conversation was adorned with original thought and various knowledge; and as his manners were simple but polished, he was in his private intercourse singularly agreeable. Charles II. once met with this respectable man, and being struck with him, thought he would be a valuable acquisition to the royalists—To gain Marvell's favour the King sent him a present of money, which was refused, and Mr. Marvell giving a rational and dignified exposition of his sentiments, preferred his poverty with integrity to the favour of princes.

This excellent man loved poetry, and vindicated Milton when his character was aspersed. Like Milton he was in favour of liberty, and he sympathized with those who were compelled to emigrate to foreign lands that they might enjoy freedom of conscience. In 1620, the famous emigration to New-England took place. One year before that time a small company of religious persons, who were not permitted to worship God in England in the manner which seemed to them right, removed to the Bermuda islands. These islands are in a healthful and pleasant climate, but they have never had many inhabitants—still the first English who went thither, anticipated much satisfaction in their retreat. Mr. Marvell wrote a song which may be supposed to express the grateful emotions of these voyagers as they entered their desired haven.

THE EMIGRANTS.

Where the remote Bermudas ride,
In ocean's bosom unespied;
From a small boat, that rowed along,
The list'ning winds received this song.

What should we do but sing his praise,

That led us through the watery maze,

Unto an isle so long unknown,

And yet far kinder than our own?

Where he the huge sea-monsters wracks,
That lift the deep upon their backs.
He lands us on a grassy stage,

Safe from the storms. and prelate's rage.

He gave us this eternal spring,
Which here enamels every thing;
And sends the fowls to us in care,
On daily visits through the air.

He hangs in shades the orange bright,
Like golden lamps in a green night.
And does in the pomegranates close
Jewels more rich than Ormus shows.

He cast (of which we rather boast)
The gospel's pearl upon our coast.
And in these rocks for us did frame
A temple where to sound his name.

Oh! let our voice his praise exalt,

Till it arrive at heaven's vault:

Which, thence (perhaps) rebounding, may.
Echo beyond the Mexique Bay.

Thus sung they, in the English boat,

An holy and a cheerful note;

And all the way, to guide their chime,
With falling oars they kept the time.

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HENRY VAUGHAN.

Henry Vaughan was a Welsh gentleman, born on the banks of the Uske, in Brecknockshire, who was bred to the law, but relinquished it for the profession of physic." The extraordinary beauty of Vaughan's poetry makes it desirable that the few remains of it which follow should become popular.

EARLY RISING AND PRAYER.

When first thy eyes unveil, give thy soul leave
To do the like; our bodies but forerun
The spirit's duty; true hearts spread and heave
Unto their God as flowers do to the sun;

Give him thy first thoughts then, so shalt thou keep
Him company all day, and in him sleep.

Yet never sleep the sun up; prayer should
Dawn with the day; there are set awful hours
'Twixt heaven and us; the manna was not good
After sun rising; for day sullies flowers:
Rise to prevent the sun; sleep doth sins glut,
And heaven's gate opens when the world's is shut.
Walk with thy fellow creatures: note the hush
And whisperings amongst them. Not a spring
Or leaf but hath his morning hymn; each bush
And oak doth know I Am.—Canst thou not sing?
O leave thy cares and follies! go this way,
And thou art sure to prosper all the day.

Serve God before the world! let him not go
Until thou hast a blessing; then resign
The whole unto him, and remember who
Prevailed by wrestling ere the sun did shine;
Pour oil upon the stones, weep for thy sin,
Then journey on, and have an eye to heaven.

Mornings are mysteries: the first, world's youth.
Man's resurrection and the future's bud,

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Shroud in their births; the crown of, life, light, truth,
Is styled their star; the stone and hidden food:
Three blessings wait upon them, one of which
Should move they make us holy, happy, rich.
When the world's up, and every swarm abroad,
Keep well thy temper, mix not with each clay;
Dispatch necessities; life hath a load

Which must be carried on, and safely may;
Yet keep those cares without thee: let the heart
Be God's alone, and choose the better part.

THE TIMBER.

Sure thou didst flourish once, and many springs, Many bright mornings, much dew, many showers, Past o'er thy head; many light hearts and wings, Which now are dead, lodged in thy living towers.

And still a new succession sings and flies,

Fresh groves grow up, and their green branches shoot, Towards the old and still enduring skies,

While the low violet thrives at their root.

*

THE RAINBOW.

Still young and fine, but what is still and in view
We slight as old and soiled, though fresh and new.
How bright wert thou when Shem's admiring eye
Thy burnished flaming arch did first descry;
When Zerah, Nahor, Haran, Abram, Lot,
The youthful world's gray fathers, in one knot
Did with intentive looks watch every hour
For thy new light, and trembled at each shower!
When thou dost shine, darkness looks white and fair;
Forms turn to music, clouds to smiles and air;
Rain gently spends to honey-drops, and pours
Balm on the cleft earth, milk on grass and flowers.
Bright pledge of peace and sunshine, the sure tie
Of thy Lord's hand, the object of his eye!
When I behold thee, though my light be dim,
Distant and low, I can in thine see him,
Who looks upon thee from his glorious throne,
And minds the covenant 'twixt all and One.

How bright wert thou, &c. The reader who is acquainted with Mr. Campbell's verses to the Rainbow, will perceive that he has imitated Vaughan :

"When o'er the green undeluged earth
Heaven's covenant thou didst shine,
How came the world's gray fathers forth
To watch thy sacred sign."

THE WREATH (TO THE REDEEMER.)

Since I in storms most used to be,

And seldom yielded flowers,
How shall I get a wreath for thee
From those rude barren hours?
The softer dressings of the spring,
Or summer's later store,

I will not for thy temples bring,
Which thorns, not roses, wore :
But a twined wreath of grief and praise,
Praise soiled with tears, and tears again
Shining with joy, like dewy days,

This day I bring for all thy pain,
Thy causeless pain; and as sad death,
Which sadness breeds in the most vain,
0 not in vain! now beg thy breath,

Thy quick'ning breath, which gladly bears
Through saddest clouds to that glad place
Where cloudless quires sing without tears,
Sing thy just praise, and see thy face.

JAMES THOMSON.

Born in 1700—Died in 1748.

This admirable poet was born in Scotland, but he removed to London while young, and devoted himself to poetry. The sweetness of Thomson's disposition, and the purity and elegance of his taste procured him patrons, and he spent his life surrounded by discerning friends and generous benefactors.

Thomson's principal, and most popular work, is the Seasons. A descriptive poem like the Seasons, was unknown in ancient literature. It was impossible under the system of paganism that the sentiment of piety could have the tender and pervading influence which sweetens and sanctifies the poetry of Thomson and Cowper. "The religion of the ancients had not taught poetry," says Mr. Campbell, "to contemplate nature as one great image of the Divine benignity, or all created beings as the objects of comprehensive human sympathy. Before popular potry could assume this character, Christianity, Philosophy, and Freedom, must have civilized the human mind."

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