and perished in the flames. The poet himself, impoverished and brokenhearted, reached London, and died three months after, on the sixteenth of January, 1599, in the forty-seventh year of his age. He was buried in Westminster Abbey, near the tomb of Chaucer, and thirty years after his death, a monument was erected over his remains, by the Countess of Dorset. The genius of Spenser was such as to place him in the very first class of English poets. In his great performance, the 'Faery Queen,' his creations are infinite, and in free and sonorous versification, he has rarely been surpassed. His lofty rhyme has a swell and cadence, and a continuous sweetness in it, that we in vain look for in any other poet. In luxuriant description also, and in richness of fancy and invention, he has scarcely ever been equalled. With all these great excellencies, however, Spenser is not without his faults, though these may be said to have arisen out of the very fullness of his riches. His inexhaustible power of circumstantial description, betrayed him into a minuteness which sometimes, in the delineation of his personified passions, becomes repulsive, and in the painting of natural objects, led him to group together trees and plants, and assemble sounds and instruments which were never seen or heard in unison out of Faery Land. His command of musical language also induced him to protract his narrative to so great a length, that the attention becomes exhausted even with its very melody. Had he, therefore, lived to finish his great poem it is doubtful whether he would not have diminished the number of his readers. His own fancy had evidently begun to give away; for the last three books have not the same unity of design, or plenitude of imagination, which fills the earlier cantos with so many interesting, lofty, and ethereal conceptions, and steeps them in such a flood of ideal and poetical beauty. But notwithstanding the lengthened allegory may sometimes fatigue us, yet the general impression remains: we can never think of the 'Faery Queen' without recalling its wondrous scenes of enchantment and beauty, and feeling ourselves lulled, as it were, by the recollected music of the poet's verse, and the endless flow and profusion of his fancy. It remains only for us to select from this poem a few passages illustrative of these remarks, and with this view we present the following: UNA AND THE RED-CROSS KNIGHT. A gentle knight was pricking on the plain, And on his breast a bloody cross he bore, For whose sweet sake that glorious badge he wore, Upon his shield the like was also scored, For sovereign hope, which in his help he had : Upon a great adventure he was bound, (That greatest glorious queen of fairy lond,) A lovely lady rode him fair beside, Upon a lowly ass more white than snow; So pure and innocent, as that same lamb, And by descent from royal lineage came Of ancient kings and queens, that had of yore Their sceptres stretcht from east to western shore, Till that infernal fiend with foul uproar Forewasted all their land, and them expell'd: Whom to avenge, she had this knight from far compell'd. Behind her far away a dwarf did lag, That lazy seem'd in being ever last, Of needments at his back. Thus as they past The day with clouds was sudden overcast, And angry Jove an hideous storm of rain Did pour into his leman's lap so fast, That every wight to shroud it did constrain, And this fair couple eke to shroud themselves were fain. Enforced to seek some covert nigh at hand, A shady grove not far away they spied, Did spread so broad, that heaven's light did hide, Nor pierceable with power of any star: And all within were paths and alleys wide, With footing worn, and leading inward far: Fair harbour, that them seems; so in they entered are. And forth they pass, with pleasure forward led, Much can they praise the trees so straight and high, The Laurel, meed of mighty conquerors The carver Holme, the Maple seldom inward sound; Led with delight, they thus beguile the way, Furthest from end then, when they nearest ween, That which of them to take, in divers doubt they been. ADVENTURE OF UNA WITH THE LION. Yet she, most faithful lady, all this while Far from all people's prease, as in exile, Through that late vision which th' enchanter wrought, One day nigh weary of the irksome way, It fortuned, out of the thicket wood A ramping lion rushed suddenly, With gaping mouth at her ran greedily, To have at once devour'd her tender corse: But to the prey when as he drew more nigh, And with the sight amazed forgat his furious force. Instead thereof he kiss'd her weary feet, And lick'd her lily hands with fawning tongue; O how can beauty master the most strong, 'The lion, lord of every beast in field,' Quoth she, 'his princely puissance doth abate, How does he find in cruel heart to hate Her that him loved, and ever most adored, As the God of my life! why hath he me abhorred ?' Redounding tears did choke th' end of her plaint, At last, in close heart shutting up her pain, To seek her strayed champion if she might attain. The lion would not leave her desolate, But with her went along, as a strong guard Of her chaste person, and a faithful mate Of her sad troubles and misfortunes hard: Still when she slept, he keep both watch and ward; THE BOWER OF BLISS. There the most dainty paradise on ground The painted flowers, the trees upshooting high, One would have thought (so cunningly the rude And in the midst of all a fountain stood Was overwrought, and shapes of naked boys, To fly about, playing their wanton toys, While others did embaye themselves in liquid joys. And over all, of purest gold was spread A trail of ivy in his native hue: For the rich metal was so coloured, That wight, who did not well advis'd it view, Their fleecy flowers they fearfully did steep, Which drops of crystal seem'd for wantonness to weep. Infinite streams continually did well Out of this fountain, sweet and fair to see, The which into an ample laver fell, And shortly grew to be so great quantity, That like a little lake it seem'd to be; Whose depths exceeded not three cubits height, That through the waves one might the bottom see, All pav'd beneath with jasper shining bright, That seem'd the fountain in that sea that did sail upright. And all the margin round about was set Eftsoons they heard a most melodious sound, Birds, voices, instruments, winds, waters, all agree. The joyous birds, shrouded in cheerful shade, |