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We finally retreated without doing any mischief returned to sleep and "Gondibert." But as for "Gondibert," I would except that passage in the preface about wit being the soul's powder "but most of mankind are strangers to wit, as Indians are to powder."
The author has been very unhappy in the choice of his verse, which is alternate, like the quatrains of the French poet Pibrach, or Sir William Davenant's heroic poem called Gondibert, which kind of verse is certainly unnatural for Tragedy, as it is so much removed from prose, and cannot have that beautiful simplicity, that tender pathos, which is indispensable to the language of tragedy; Mr.
I lived on the edge of the village then, and had just lost myself over Davenant's "Gondibert," that winter that I labored with a lethargy which, by the way, I never knew whether to regard as a family complaint, having an uncle who goes to sleep shaving himself, and is obliged to sprout potatoes in a cellar Sundays, in order to keep awake and keep the Sabbath, or as the consequence of my attempt to read Chalmers' collection of English poetry without skipping.
Not his "Gondibert," notwithstanding it abounds in fine passages, notwithstanding Gay thought it worth continuation and completion, and added several cantos, notwithstanding Lamb eulogized it with enthusiasm, Southey warmly praised, and Campbell and Hazlitt coolly commended it.
It is one our most beautiful songs, and he is remembered by it far more than by his long epic poem called Gondibert which few people now read. But I think you will agree with me that his name is worthy of being remembered for that one song alone. HAVING told you a little about the songs of the cavaliers I must now tell you something about the religious poets who were a feature of the age.
Later D. was employed on various missions by the King and Queen, was again in the Tower from 1650 to 1652, when he pub. his poem Gondibert. He is said to have owed his release to the interposition of Milton.
D. wrote 25 dramatic pieces, among which are Albovine, King of the Lombards , Platonick Lovers , The Wits , Unfortunate Lovers , Love and Honour . None of them are now read; and the same may be said of Gondibert, considered a masterpiece by contemporaries. He coll. his miscellaneous verse under the title of Madagascar.
He altogether surpasses his model, Davenant. If his poem lack the gravity of thought attained by a few stanzas of "Gondibert," it is vastly superior in life, in picturesqueness, in the energy of single lines, and, above all, in imagination. Few men have read "Gondibert," and almost every one speaks of it, as commonly of the dead, with a certain subdued respect.
The Commonwealth also had its prisoners. Sir William Davenant, because of his loyalty, was for some time confined a prisoner in Cowes Castle, where he wrote the greater part of his poem of 'Gondibert': and it is said that his life was saved principally through the generous intercession of Milton. He lived to repay the debt, and to save Milton's life when "Charles enjoyed his own again."
As for Gondibert, those may criticise it who can read it. Imagination was extinct. Taste was depraved. Poetry, driven from palaces, colleges, and theatres, had found an asylum in the obscure dwelling where a Great Man, born out of due season, in disgrace, penury, pain and blindness, still kept uncontaminated a character and a genius worthy of a better age.
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