And then they likewise shall
Their ruin brave;
For, as yourselves, your empires fall,
_And every kingdom hath a grave_.

Thus those celestial fires,
Though seeming mute,
The fallacy of our desires,
And all the pride of life, confute;

For they have watch'd since first
The world had birth,
And found sin in itself accurst,
And nothing permanent on earth.


There is something to us particularly interesting in the history of this
poet. Even as it is pleasant to see the sides of a volcano covered with
verdure, and its mouth filled with flowers, so we like to find the
fierce elements, which were inherited by Habington from his fathers,
softened and subdued in him,--the blood of the conspirator mellowed into
that of the gentle bard, who derived all his inspiration from a pure
love and a mild and thoughtful religion.


EPISTLE ADDRESSED TO THE HONOURABLE W.E.

He who is good is happy. Let the loud
Artillery of heaven break through a cloud,
And dart its thunder at him, he'll remain