ENGLISH POETRY 1579-1830: SPENSER AND THE TRADITION
, "Garden Inscriptions: In Cowley's Shade" The Poetical Calendar (1763) 8:110-11.
1662 ca.: Katherine Philips
1667: Sir John Denham
1667 ca.: Roger Boyle
1670: Richard Flecknoe
1674: Thomas Rymer
1682: John Sheffield
1683: John Dryden
1687: Philip Ayres
1693: Rev. Samuel Wesley
1694: Joseph Addison
1697: John Dryden
1697: Daniel Baker
1700: Samuel Cobb
1712: Bezaleel Morrice
1712: Leonard Welsted
1720: Giles Jacob
1721: Judith Cowper Madan
1722: T. B.
1726: Aaron Hill
1728: James Ralph
1737: Alexander Pope
1754: Thomas Francklin
1757: Rev. John Free
1757: Bp. Richard Hurd
1763: Rev. William Thompson
1764: David Erskine Baker
1769: Daniel Hayes
1772: Bp. Richard Hurd
1776: James Beattie
1776: John Nichols
1782: William Hayley
1782: Rev. Joseph Warton
1789: William Belsham
1795: Dr. Robert Anderson
1795 ca.: Bp. Richard Hurd
1797: Charles Lamb
1802: George Dyer
1802: Joseph Dennie
1802: B. T.
1803: George Dyer
1806: Dr. John Aikin
1817: John Taylor Esq.
1819: Thomas Campbell
1819: William Hazlitt
1824: Samuel Taylor Coleridge
1824: Bryan Waller Procter
1825 ca.: Henry Mackenzie
1826: Richard Ryan
1834: Sir Samuel Egerton Brydges
1836: Hartley Coleridge
1836: Richard Cattermole
1837: William Howitt
1837: Henry Hallam
1842: C. H. Timperley
1852: Mary Russell Mitford
1860: George Gilfillan
1880: Thomas Humphry Ward
1882: Epes Sargent
Rev. William Thompson:
1746: Alexander Pope
1750 ca.: James Thomson
1763: Joseph Addison
1763: Abraham Cowley
1763: John Philips
1763: James Thomson
Shall poets dignify my walks and bowers,
Cowley forgot? forbid it, rural powers!
Ye rural powers, your choicest treasures shed,
To form a garland for your Cowley's head:
Collect the radiance of the showery bow,
The rose's scarlet, and the lilly's snow,
To emulate his works, confus'dly bright,
Where glories rise on glories, light on light,
The prism of wit! Apollo, once before,
So gilded Donn, but so could gild no more.
Our moderns flow, 'tis true, in easy rhimes;
But will our moderns flow thro' future times?
Warm distant ages with their glorious fire,
Inspir'd themselves, and potent to inspire?
Cowley, this praise is thine! — an age is past,
Yet still you charm the present and the last:
Your thoughts, your verse, their pristine lustre hold,
Like rows of jewels rang'd on cloth of gold:
Aeneas' passport thus, the golden bough,
Solid and bright at once, resembles you;
Like that, you lead us to Elysium too.
No muddy streams of dull pollution run
In your chaste lines; each wanton hint you shun,
Save when a transient Venus blots the sun.
You sung each flower that spreads the vivid hue,
Each healing plant that sips the silver dew,
Each tree that decks the garden, or the grove;
You sung, but never felt, the fires of Love:
For Love too witty, and from passion free,
You had the mistress, but no lover, she:
Goaded with points, Love never wept so sore,
Tho' wounded by a Muse's bee before.
O master of the many-chorded lyre,
Whom all the Nine, with all their gifts, inspire!
Next Spenser's bower, accept this humble shed,
He charm'd you living, and you join him dead.
But far I place thee from coy Daphne's tree;
The tree that hates Apollo, loves not thee:
Yet had Apollo sung so well, the maid
Had yielded, nor been turn'd into a shade.