GEORGE WITHER was born in 1588, at Bentworth, Hampshire. In 1604, he was sent to Magdalen College, Oxford; but soon afterwards having, it would appear, become intimate with the Muses, his father, a plain country gentleman, apprehensive of their proving dangerous acquaintances, recalled his son with the intention of teaching him" to hold the plough." The boy, however, rebelled against the authority of the parent, made his way to London, and entered at Lincoln's Inn. In 1613, having previously obtained some celebrity, he published a series of Satires, "Abuses stript and whipt" — and though the poems contain no personal allusions-nor a single immoral thought or indecent expression,-the satire being general-he was committed to the Marshalsea for the "offence." During his long incarceration, he composed the most beautiful of his productions-the "Shepheards Hunting." On his release, his unsettled condition caused him to lead a most perturbed life. But though "in prisons oft," he continued to pursue the Muse he had wooed in boyhood, acknowledging her influence in every shape and character to which rhyme could be applied - worshipping her through evil report and good report-sometimes as an unworthy votary, but far more often under the influence of true inspiration; always maintaining a bold and manly bearing and an intrepid and independent port, singing his song, "I'll make my owne feathers reare me Whither others cannot beare me." If he complained, he did it as a man-if he protested against the booksellers as "cruel bee-masters, who burn the poor Athenian bees for their honey," he showed that his words were not mere sounds, by printing the longest of all his writingsBritain's Remembrancer-with his own hands. When the rupture took place between Charles the First and the Commons, Wither sold his paternal estate, and raised a troop of horse for the Parliament. He was taken prisoner and in danger of being hanged; but Denham interceded for his life, on the ground that, while he lived, the author of "Cooper's Hill" could not be accounted the worst Poet in England. Wither, however, was subsequently Cromwell's Major-General for Surrey, and shared in the harvest of sequestration; which he was compelled to relinquish at the Restoration. Evil fortune then again pursued him; his eager and angry protests were deemed libellous, and George Wither was once more doomed to woo his Muse within stone walls. He was first an inmate of Newgate, and afterwards of the Tower. It is uncertain whether he died in prison; but it is known that he perished in indigence and obscurity, somewhere about the year 1667 :a sad example of genius unaccompanied by prudence. It is to the earlier poems of Wither that we are to look for proofs of his power. The playful fancy, pure taste, and rich yet simple thoughts, which so abound in them, were lost when party zeal changed the character of the man. Instead of being admired by those who could love and estimate Nature, he was "cried up by the Puritanical party for his profuse pouring forth of English rhyme, and more, afterwards, by the vulgar sort of people, for his prophetical poetry." His style degenerated; the natural, and artless tone of his Muse grew boisterous; her garb became unseemlyshe laid aside the light and graceful drapery so beautifully in keeping with the woods and fields, and put on the sullied and coarse attire of a town termagant. It is obvious, however, even from the brief specimens we have given, that the spirit of true poetry was active within him. His works abound in parts which amply redeem the barrenness of the plain that surrounds them. Such are evidently the outpourings of his soul-the sudden and unmatured promptings of a fine, energetic, and strongly toned mind. They are, to use his own words, "such as flowed forth without study;" he could not, or would not, "spend time to put his meanings into other words." Our principal extract is from the Shepherds Hunting-a passage which, although well known, it is impossible to omit from any collection of the beauties of English Poetry. The Poem is a dialogue between Roget and Willy-which is held in the Marshalsea Prison. The caged Poet, after a lengthened description of the Pleasures that live with Freedom, describes the only consolation left to him-the companionship of the Muse. Now gentle sleep hath closed up those eyes, by those who commu love and estimate Nature, he was " cried up by the Puritanical party for his profuse pouring forth of English rhyme, and more, afterwards, by the vulgar sort of people, for his prophetical poetry." His style degenerated; the natural, and artless tone of his Muse grew boisterous; her garb became unseemlyshe laid aside the light and graceful drapery so beautifully in keeping with the woods and fields, and put on the sullied and coarse attire of a town termagant. It is obvious, however, even from the brief specimens we have given, that the spirit of true poetry was active within him. His works abound in parts which amply redeem the barrenness of the plain that surrounds them. Such are evidently the outpourings of his soul-the sudden and unmatured promptings of a fine, energetic, and strongly toned mind. They are, to use his own words, "such as flowed forth without study;" he could not, or would not, "spend time to put his meanings into other words." Our principal extract is from the Shepherds Hunting-a passage which, although well known, it is impossible to omit from any collection of the beauties of English Poetry. The Poem is a dialogue between Roget and Willy-which is held in the Marshalsea Prison. The caged Poet, after a lengthened description of the Pleasures that live with Freedom, describes the only consolation left to him-the companionship of the Muse. Now gentle sleep hath closed up those eyes, FROM THE SHEPHEARDS HUNTING. As the sunne doth oft exhale Vapours from each rotten vale; Twixt mens judgements and her light: And though for her sake I'me crost, And knew she would make my trouble With those sweets the spring-tyde yeelds, |