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Mr. Headley, in his Biographical Sketches, p. 39; has very
justly observed, that “ Carew has the ease, without the “ pedantry of Waller, and perhaps less conceit. He re“ minds as of the best manner of lord Lyttelton. Waller “ is too exclusively considered as the first man who brought “ versification to any thing like its present standard. “ Carew's pretensions to the same merit are seldom suffi“ ciently esther considered or allowed.” Lord Clarendon, however, has remarked of his poems, that, “ for the sharp“ ness of the fancy, and for the elegance of the language “ in which that fancy was spread, they were at least equal, “ if not superior, to any of that time. But his glory was “ that, after fifty years of his life spent with less severity « and exactness than they ought to have been, he died with “ the greatest remorse for that licence, and with the greatest “ manifestation of Christianity, that his best friends could
“ desire." Carew is generally supposed to have died young in 1639, and
I have therefore placed his birth about 1600, though, from the preceding passage from Clarendon, it seems probable that his birth ought to be placed earlier, or his death later. The earliest edition of his works which I have seen, was printed in 1642, which, however, is called in the title the second edition.
Sweetly breathing vernal air, That, with kind warmth, dost repair Winter's ruins; from whose breast All the gums and spice of th' east Borrow their perfumes; whose eye Gilds the morn, and clears the sky; Whose dishevel'd tresses shed Pearls upon the violet-bed : On whose brow, with calm smiles drest, The halcyon sits, and builds her nest ; . Beauty, youth, and endless spring, Dwell upon thy rosy wing.
Thou, if stormy Boreas throws
PERSUASIONS TO LOVE..
Think not, 'cause men flattering say, Y'are fresh as April, sweet as May, Bright as is the morning star, That you are so; or though you are, Be not therefore proud, and deem All men unworthy your esteem : For, being so, you lose the pleasure Of being fair, since that rich treasure Of rare beauty and sweet feature, Was bestow'd on you by nature To be enjoy’d, and 'twere a sin There to be scarce, where she hath been So prodigal of her best graces : Thus common beauties, and mean faces, Shall have more pastime, and enjoy . The sport you lose by being coy. Did the thing for which I sue Only concern myself, not you ; Were men so fram'd as they alone Reap'd all the pleasure, women none;. Then had you reason to be scant; But, 'twere a madness not to grant That which affords (if you consent) To you, the giver, more content,
Than me, the beggar. Oh then be