The Romance of Biography (Vol 2 of 2)

t "Waller still lives in Sacharissa:" he lives in her name more than she does in his poetry; he gave that name a charm and a celebrity which has survived the admiration his verses inspired, a

d." Instead of passion and poetry, we have gallantry and flattery; gallantry, which was beneath the dignity of its

, she was about eighteen, beautiful, accomplished, and admired. Waller was handsome, rich, a wit, and five-and-twenty. He had ever an excellent opinion of himself, and a prudent

clea and such

ms written at Penshu

es! tell this

ther ye fed

equalise the

s have kindled

ut when he presumed farther, she crushed all hopes with the m

d and cruel s

rees, and proude

est! why dost t

ney? From whi

could so far

rm a nation wit

hia Murray,) the intimate companion of Sacharissa. He describes

lovely, l

nd, and s

reless of

ourselves

...*..

ilver dov

Cythere

ngs that l

ey her s

ely, sweet

re ennob

icely matc

ore conse

utifully contrasted i

Amoret

se of all

Sachar

ly grieve

...*..

ment more

radiant ey

lendour wa

so benign

urn my da

their mi

...*..

as sweet

st delici

tasted d

ladness to

a's beaut

adness dot

iquor as

ortal, ca

ch sparkled in those of Sacharissa, was not to be "berhymed" into love any more than her fair friend. She applauded, but

Go, lovely Rose," to which I need only allude, and many others,-Waller has failed in convincing us of his sincerity. As Rosalind says, "Cupid might have clapped him on the shoulder, but we could warrant him heart-whole." All along our sympathy is rath

modesty, suc

ove, but with a

d our greedy

t on too subl

ellow-servant," is not to be compared with Tasso's ode to the Co

eason know, wh

ty, or to lo

chosen hour s

love durst neve

oddess; you, he

s may propiti

l, bright stones

es, that longer

...*..

yes, her teeth,

nd in mines or

rt as far exc

al gifts her mi

meanness about the man: he wanted not birth alone, but all the high and generous qualities which must have been required to recommend him to a woman, who, with the blood and the pride of the Sydneys, inherited their large heart and noble spirit. We are not surprised when she

ad professed

e'er ris

rdon that he

o Lady Lucy Sydney, the younger sister of Sacharissa. It will be allowed that it argues more wit and good nature than love or

on the marriage of my L

ur Ladyship,-the loss of a bedfellow being almost equal to that of a mistress; and therefore you ought, at lea

est of mankind, as others have had for her; and may this love, before the year come about, make her taste of the first curse imposed on womankind

ay she live to be very old, and yet seem young-be told so by her glass-and have no aches to inform her of the truth: and when she shall appear to be mortal, may her Lord not mourn for her, but go hand-in-hand with her to that place, where, we are

this loss may, in good time, be happily supplie

nd beg pardon for this trouble from

WAL

e field. In the Sydney papers are some beautiful letters to his wife, written from the camp before Oxford. The last of these, which is in a strain of playful and affectionate gaiety, thus concludes,-"Pray bless Poppet for me![7] and tell her I would have wrote to h

DERL

her for several months. Her father wrote her a letter of condolence, which would serve as a model for all letters on similar occasions. "I know," he says, "that it is to no purpose to advise you not to grieve; that is not my intention: for such a loss as yours, cannot be received indifferently by a nature so tender and sensible as yours," &c. After touching lightly and delicately on the obvious sources of consolation, he reminds her, that her duty to the dea

hattered nerves and a wounded spirit from the busy hand of consolation

er. After the lapse of about thirteen years, her father, Lord Leicester, prevailed on her to choose one from among the numerous suitors who sought her hand: he dreaded, lest on his death, she should be left unprotected, with her infant children, in those evil times; and she married, in obedience to his wish, Sir Robert Smythe, of Sutton, who was her second cousin, and had long been att

ery at Althorpe, there are three pictures of this celebrated woman. One represents her in a hat, and at the age of fifteen or sixteen, gay, girlish, and blooming: the second, far more interesting, was painted about the time of her first marriage: it is exceedingly sweet and lady-like. The features are delicate, with redundant light brown air, and eyes and eyebrows of a darker hue

looking and delicate. One might fancy her contemplating with a sick heart, the portrait of Lord Sunderland, the lover and husband of he

the present Earl Spencer, are the lin

ared in the court she had once adorned, she met Waller at Lady Wharton's, and addressing him with a smiling courtesy, she reminded him of their youthful days:-"When," said she, "will you write such fine verses on me

is no

where it alt

far more than avenged his wounded vanity, might have awakened some tender thoughts, and called forth a gentler reply. When some one expressed surprise to Petrarch, that Laura, no lon

than those written on his royal self. "Please your Majesty, we poets succeed better in fiction than in truth." Nothing could be more admirably apropos, more witty, more courti

TNO

cadia; Sacharissa was the grandniece of that preux chevali

g to Sir Ph

s on her

al name Waller himself gav

n about two years old, after

, Lady Leicester, who was

Memorials, vo

e Poems, vol.