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Thou, my board with messes large,
Dost surcharge;

My bowls full of wine thou pourest,
And before mine enemies'

Envious eyes,

Balm upon mine head thou showerest.

Neither dures thy bounteous grace

For a space,

But it knows nor bound, nor measure: So my days, to my life's end,

Shall I spend

In thy courts with heavenly pleasure.

RICHARD CRASHAW.

DIED 1650.

THE comparative ignorance which prevails respecting the merits of this Author, whose delicate fancy, tenderness, and singular beauty of diction are alike admirable, will, it is hoped, be sufficient excuse for recurring to his productions in the present volume; even though he is now brought before the reader principally in the character of a translator. In simplicity and force, however, the subjoined version from "Marino" is superior to the greater part of Crashaw's original compositions. Limits were set here to the play of his "thick-coming fancies." The two poems which follow the translation have been highly commended by critical authorities, from which it would be presumption to appeal; the verses "On a Prayer Book," having, we are told, been considered by Coleridge as "one of the greatest poems in the language," while the "Epitaph on Mr. Ashton," was highly cominended by Pope.

RICHARD CRASHAW.

HEROD.

The first Book of the "Sospetto d'Herode" of Marino.

MUSE, now the servant of soft loves no more,

Hate is thy theme; and Herod, whose unblest Hand (so what dares not jealous greatness?) tore A thousand sweet babes from their mother's

breast;

The blooms of martyrdom. O be a door

Of language to my infant lips, ye best

Of confessors; whose throats answering his swords, Gave forth your blood for breath, spoke souls for words.

Below the bottom of the great abyss,

There where one centre reconciles all things; The world's profound heart pants; there placed is Mischief's old master; close about him clings A curl'd knot of embracing snakes, that kiss His correspondent cheeks: these loathsome strings

Hold the perverse prince in eternal ties

Fast bound, since first he forfeited the skies.

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