WILLIAM WALSH. 1663-1708. [WILLIAM WALSH was born at Aberley in Worcestershire, in 1663. He died in 1708. His principal works are A Defence of the Fair Sex, 1680, and Poems, 1691.] RIVALRY IN LOVE. Of all the torments, all the cares, Sure rivals are the worst! By partners of each other kind, In love alone we hate to find Sylvia, for all the pangs you see JOSEPH ADDISON. 1672-1719. [JOSEPH ADDISON was born on the 1st of May, 1672. His first English poem was an address to Dryden on the publication of the latter's Translations of Ovid. This was written in his twentysecond year. In 1694 he published, in one of Dryden's Miscellanies, his Account of the Principal English Poets; in 1695 appeared his Address to King William. Having obtained a pension of £300 to enable him to travel, he visited the continent, and in 1701 wrote his Letter from Italy to Lord Halifax. When Godolphin in 1704 was in search of a poet to celebrate in an adequate manner the victory of Blenheim, Halifax directed him to Addison, who, in answer to the Treasurer's application, produced The Campaign, and obtained as a reward the post of Under-Secretary of State. His opera Rosamond was performed in 1706. In 1709 The Tatler began to appear, and The Spectator in 1711. Addison's tragedy of Cato was brought out in 1713. He also wrote Prologues and Epilogues to various plays; among others the Prologue to The Tender Husband and the Epilogue to Lord Lansdowne's British Enchanters. He died on the 17th of June, 1719.] AN ODE. THE spacious firmament on high, Soon as the evening shades prevail, Whilst all the stars that round her burn, What, though in solemn silence, all HYMN. How are thy servants blest, O Lord! In foreign realms and lands remote, And breathed the tainted air. Thy mercy sweetened every toil, Think, O my soul, devoutly think, Confusion dwelt in every face, When waves on waves, and gulfs on gulfs, O'ercame the pilot's art. Yet then from all my griefs, O Lord, For, though in dreadful whirls we hung, I knew thou wert not slow to hear, The storm was laid, the winds retired The sea, that roared at thy command, In midst of dangers, fears, and death, My life, if thou preserv'st my life, And death, if death must be my doom, Unhurt amidst the war of elements, The wreck of matter, and the crash of worlds. ROSAMOND'S SONG. FROM walk to walk, from shade to shade, From stream to purling stream convey'd, Full of grief and full of love, A thousand thousand ills combine. Fear surrounds me, Guilt confounds me, Was ever passion cross'd like mine? How does my constant grief deface Has lost his scent; The vernal blooms of various hue, Fill'd with the breath of op'ning flow'rs, (Nature's softest, sweetest store) THOMAS PARNELL. 1679-1718. [THOMAS PARNELL was born in Dublin in 1679, and was buried at Chester on the 18th of October, 1718. His Poems were first collected after his death, by Pope.] FROM "A HYMN TO CONTENT MENT." THE silent heart, which grief assails, In trailing purple o'er the ground; Lovely, lasting peace, appear! This world itself, if thou art here, Is once again with Eden blest, And man contains it in his breast. 'Twas thus, as under shade I stood, Bid thy wild passions all be still, The joys which from religion flow: Then every Grace shall prove its guest, And I'll be there to crown the rest." Oh! by yonder mossy seat, In heavenly vision, praise, and prayer; |